《Museum Core (Dungeon Core/LitRPG Apocalypse)》


 Chapter 1: Wakey, Wakey

    The world was a sea of light, bright light, in every color under the sun, and more he¡¯d never seen before, swirling around him, reflecting off what might have been glass, metal railings, and other objects he could barely describe.


    Thomas grimaced internally, as for some reason, he was unable to actually move. That was bad.


    What was worse was the oddly solid ¡°thump, thump, thump¡± of someone rapping their knuckles on his head. The figure was weird, largely unidentifiable amidst the shimmering colors and lights.


    It looked roughly male, but given that the only feature on them he could currently identifiable was what might have been a pair of dragonfly wings that looked oddly metallic, Thomas didn¡¯t trust even a single thing he saw.


    ¡°¡­ -key, wakey, little core. I know this is weird, you¡¯re probably missing your real fairy, and I really don¡¯t know what in the name of the Celestials is going on, but the world has kinda lost its mind and if you¡¯re at all interested in continuing to live,  you should start making defenses, ¡®mkay?¡±


    Ok, what?!? There wasn¡¯t a single part of that sentence that made sense. Shit, this was weird. Just. Plain. Weird.


    The whole affair made about as much sense as the mess he could see. That was to say, it didn¡¯t make any sense at all.


    ¡°I should be able to start helping once my damn spear starts working again, but I don¡¯t know when that¡¯ll be or how powerful it¡¯ll be. So, chop, chop, pretty please do literally anything.¡±


    The being seemed to slump, but Thomas still couldn¡¯t see properly. Hell, he couldn¡¯t even move.


    ¡°Ok, so, no response. Let¡¯s take it from the from the top,¡± The being sighed,  ¡°Wakey, wakey, little co- ¡­¡±


    And now that little speech was being repeated.


    Thomas tried to say something, but he couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t speak, couldn¡¯t even feel his body. Locked-in syndrome?


    ¡°Please, just ¡­ I¡¯m in here, alright?¡± Thomas thought, hoping against reason that the message would be heard.


    ¡°Yeah, no shit you¡¯re in there. How long have you been awake?¡± the being asked.


    ¡°Beginning of the last speech ¡­ I think,¡± Thomas cautiously, ¡°thought¡± at his conversation partner, hoping that he hadn¡¯t imagined it working.


    ¡°Damn, that mana wave really knocked us for a loop, didn¡¯t it?¡± the being sighed, doing something that might have been an irritated head shake, but to Thomas, it appeared like a strange shift in its posture that caused the surrounding lights to shift.


    ¡°So, where are we, how long have you been here, and what can you build?¡±


    ¡°I have no idea about anything, I can barely see, and you¡¯re hitting my head!¡± Thomas complained, and this time, the being seemed surprised, jerking backwards and ¡­ falling?


    It seemed to fall for a long time, from a height that should have killed it, yet the being had started flying before it had fallen even halfway towards the ground.


    OK, what?


    Thomas hadn¡¯t been able to move at all, and then, without moving, he¡¯d somehow been able to shift his vision towards the ground to follow the being, yet he hadn¡¯t moved, his field of view had just sort of ¡­ slid around?


    ¡°Just try to adjust your vision to filter out various arcane energies, and then ¡­ wait, did you just say ¡®head¡¯?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Thomas said, somehow even more confused. How was that of all things confusing to the being?


    However, that tip with the ¡°filter¡± had made sense ¡­ somehow. It had been non-specific, non-sensical, not something he should have been able to turn into an actionable, uh, action, but it had worked.


    All he had to do was think it, and the world obeyed, clearing up in an instant. More than merely clearing up, if he was entirely honest with himself. The ¡°being¡± that had been fluttering around him turned out to be a goddamn fairy of all things, looking like a young, Caucasian man with raven black hair, wrapped in what was either a rag or a ragged toga.


    Either way, for a chunk of red cloth that had clearly been roughly torn from a larger piece of fabric, it looked a hell of a lot less silly than one might have expected it to.


    But that was barely even noticeable when compared to the pair of dragonfly wings on his back, glittering bronze as they hummed through the air.


    So yeah, a freaking fairy, hovering in the middle of the room, and Thomas was, weirdly enough, floating, with his vision oddly able to rotate around some kind of central point he couldn¡¯t look at.


    ¡­ Until he figured out that he was able to detach his ¡°eyes¡±. It was an incredibly weird feeling, as though he were somehow pulling his actual eyes from his body, yet somehow having them remain attached to his brain to the point where he could look at himself without the aid of a mirror.


    Yet the weird feeling, the impression of him doing something unnatural, impossible, was fading rapidly as he looked around, moving his point of view around like a drone. A drone he was somehow controlling with his mind, and it felt normal.


    Just like riding a bike, you never unlearned it.


    Or swimming, for that matter. The moment you were back in the water, all the knowledge you need would rush back to you.


    Except he¡¯d never actually learned to do any of this, once he figured out he could do something, the proper ¡°muscle memory¡± came to and stayed with him.


    With the various ¡°arcane energies¡± filtered out, he could actually look around at his surroundings.


    Light blue carpet, a massive, life-sized, plastic model of a blue whale cracked on the ground, glass cases both intact and not, taxidermied animals, a set of strange armor with a crimson cloak alongside a spear, mammalian fossils ¡­ all in all, it did track with his last memories, of wandering through the London Natural History Museum. Except for the armor, that was weird.


    Either way, he¡¯d been in the museum and after that things went more than a little fuzzy.


    Between the ¡­ whatever happening and him waking, a whole lot of things had clearly gone exceedingly wrong. There sure as shit wasn¡¯t supposed to be blood everywhere, but where on Earth had the people/bodies gone?


    Sure, there were plenty of predators that dragged off their kills, or maybe someone had decided to get the people out of here, be they alive or dead, but it was still decidedly strange.


    Eventually, he was unable to avoid looking at himself. He¡¯d tried to not even think about it, aware, on some level, of the fact that something had to be incredibly wrong with his physical form, but he¡¯d tried to avoid even thinking about it.


    He didn¡¯t just not feel his body, he¡¯d been able to turn to look 360¡ã on all axes, and it didn¡¯t take a genius to imagine that if he was able to look left, right, up, and down, while floating in the middle of the air, no less, and the area he was moving around seeming far smaller than even his skull ¡­ something was wrong. He had to look.


    As he¡¯d already expected, what he saw wasn¡¯t his human body, nothing even close to it. A smooth orb of golden stone, around the size of an adult¡¯s fist, hovered at what looked like hip height for a human, with no apparent means of support keeping it there. No wires, no updraft, no nothing. Maybe it had a core made of some kind of magnetic metal, and there were magnets buried somewhere around here?


    ¡°Hello?¡± a voice asked, somehow echoing in his head, clearly audible even though the fairy was all the way next to the core, a good three meters from where Thomas was ¡°looking¡± from, and the question had been asked in a low, albeit annoyed, tone.


    How often had the fairy tried to catch his attention?


    ¡°Sorry, I was looking around,¡± Thomas explained, before finally introducing himself, ¡°My name is Thomas, I have no idea what¡¯s going on, and I¡¯m some kind of rock ¡­ I think?¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°A Dungeon Core,¡± the fairy corrected, ¡°My name is Elias Graystone, though I¡¯m more commonly known as Elias of the Crimson Sea. I¡¯m from Dretalora, that¡¯s a far-off world that¡¯s usually drowning in enemies, be they monsters or void beasts, but since this is clearly not my home, that doesn¡¯t really matter.¡±


    Fluttering over to the empty piece of armor, Elias made a throwaway gesture at it.


    ¡°So, I know this is going to sound weird, but I¡¯m not actually a fairy, the mana wave turned me into one, stuck me in here, bonded to your core. I used to be human, and that used to be my armor. As you can see, I cut up the cape into something I can wear because that¡¯s just for show, but the rest of the armor requires my old rank to be useable, and I¡¯m currently reduced to your E-Rank, so ¡­ that¡¯s not gonna work.


    ¡°And like I told you, the spear can adjust to my rank, and when it does, I¡¯ll be useful, but it¡¯ll take a while for that to happen, so if this is your Dungeon, start recreating your defenses. And if you¡¯re as lost as I am, make new ones. But we¡¯re obviously sitting ducks here and now, and I doubt you¡¯re any keener on dying than I am.¡±


    ¡°¡­ How?¡± Thomas asked. The whole ¡°I used to be human but now I¡¯m a fairy¡± thing was something for later, but s


    The fairy seemed to freeze before meeting Thomas¡¯ eyes.


    Or he tried, the fact that he was staring at the crystal rather than Thomas¡¯ point of view was somewhat ruining the effect.


    ¡°Ok, what do you know about being a Dungeon Core? At all. What can you do? Do you know how to make anything, or do you just not have any patterns?¡±


    ¡°Uh ¡­ I can look around and can send my field of view flying around?¡± Thomas replied, ¡°But when I woke up, I couldn¡¯t even do that, I think I can figure things out if you point me in the right direction.¡±


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s try that, but keep in mind that I¡¯m not an actual Dungeon Fairy, you¡¯re going to have to work with me here. Also, I¡¯m not going to teach you to become a slaughterhouse, I won¡¯t help you with that, but I¡¯ll teach you everything else I know, at the appropriate time.


    ¡°First, go look at your Status, see if you can share it with me or describe it for me. It should be accessible by you wanting it to show up, saying ¡®status¡¯ or just in general calling it up,¡± Elias began, then rattled off another ten or so other options.


    So Thomas tried those. All of those.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s not working. Something always starts to happen, but then, it just sort of ¡­ fizzles out.¡±


    ¡°Weird,¡± Elias commented, stroking his chin before staring at an empty spot of air and finally ¡°slumping¡±, which looked incredibly strange as he was still hovering in midair, wings beating furiously, ¡°I can¡¯t access mine either. That ¡­ that¡¯s not supposed to happen, but it¡¯s not disastrous. The status is just a reflection of your actual body, all your abilities are still there, but we¡¯re going to have to do this by feel, now.¡±


    ¡°Do you think it might be because we both used to be human?¡± Thomas asked. It seemed obvious.


    ¡°Mayb- ¡­ did you just say ¡®both¡¯?¡± Elias raised an eyebrow, ¡°Seriously?¡±


    ¡°That would explain everything, right?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°Assuming I believe you, why are we suddenly different? Also, I¡¯m not entirely sure I believe that. I¡¯m currently E-Rank, I can feel that, but I can also tell I still have my full power locked away somewhere. You¡¯re a true E-Rank, and that mana wave should have wiped you from existence.¡±


    Alright, what on Earth was up with that? Thomas wondered. Why was the fairy being so weird about that?


    ¡°And why on Earth would I pretend to have been human?¡± he asked, prompting Elias to almost fall out of the air in shock. In fact, he barely caught himself a few centimeters above the floor.


    ¡°Because there are a million things a young core shouldn¡¯t be told about because they could accidentally wreak havoc with those ideas and concepts, and pretending to be a fully mature human instead of a Dungeon Core which, quite literally, cannot be emotionally mature prior to C-Rank, might get me to spill the beans, so to speak,¡± Elias shrugged.


    That made sense, weirdly enough. If Elias was knowledgeable about Dungeons and aware of the fact that normal Dungeons, apparently, tended to be emotionally immature. Unfortunately, this now led to the issue where anything Thomas did would be perceived as ¡°being part of the deception¡±.


    And as desperately as Thomas wanted to verbally tear into the fairy about dismissing him like that, he¡¯d just spotted vines creeping across the windows high above, watching them grow in real time. Elias had mentioned that they needed defenses, and issues of humanity aside, he seemed to know what he was talking about.


    With barely suppressed annoyance, he ground out, ¡°Can we just table this whole discussion, and get to building defenses? What are those, how do I build them, what¡¯s the best place to put them?¡±


    This time, Elias decided to get straight to the point.


    ¡°Do you have any patterns remaining? They¡¯re what you create objects or monsters based on, you should be able to feel for them in your core, they should feel like, uh, materials and creatures?¡±


    Feel for them in your core ¡­ it should have been a useless instruction, a general order that didn¡¯t do jack shit to explain how he should do it. But for some reason, merely knowing that something was possible meant he could figure out how to do it. As if Thomas had access to someone else¡¯s muscle memo- ¡­ core memory? Nope, that sounded wrong, so maybe rock memory? Procedural memory?


    Ah, who cared, as long as it made sense. Which it didn¡¯t. But he could still tell that he didn¡¯t have any of those ¡°patterns¡±, information which he immediately relayed to Elias.


    ¡°Ok, so absorb something. This entire room is your domain, you can eat literally anything here and recreate it. Carpet, stone, one of the taxidermied animals. Grab an animal, we really need some defenders.¡±


    Thomas briefly considered, then absorbed the hippopotamus. It was the closest, but also probably the best choice in the room. The only exits from this room were tiny, too small for a rhino or elephant, and while the various mouse deer might be cute, they weren¡¯t exactly going to be useful in a fight.


    On the other hand, hippos, especially the African variant he had here, were nasty as fuck, usually ranking amongst the ten most dangerous animals in the world regardless of which criteria you used.


    Once more, the entire process was entirely instinctive, with energy flowing smoothly from his core, across the intervening space, and sinking into the taxidermied monstrosity and breaking it down into sparkling motes of energy ¡­ along with chunks of the railing that separated the exhibits from the path the visitors would take, some glass shards, bits of carpet, the podium the exhibit stood upon, and chunks of nearby exhibits.


    Not to mention that he¡¯d scooped up everything inside the hippo.


    With Elias instructing him, it should have been simple enough to summon it. Should.


    Reach into your core, grab the pattern,


    Then, he should place a replica in the real world, and fill it with power ¡­ but when he tried, it turned out to be very, very tricky. What had once been an empty void was now utterly stuffed with crap. Every single material he¡¯d ¡°eaten¡± was in there, or so he assumed, considering that there was so much stuff in there getting a proper overview was utterly impossible. He¡¯d also spotted an elephant pattern, for some reason, even though he¡¯d only eaten a small part of it.


    ¡°If you can¡¯t find it immediately, maybe look for a sorting function. Or see if you can move the patterns, push everything you¡¯ve already looked at to the side.¡±


    Yeah, Elias wasn¡¯t much help either. Thomas had already been using standard ¡°search tactics¡± from the beginning. And the whole-ass ¡°system¡±, whatever that was, wasn¡¯t working, which meant that any kind of automated, well, anything, was decidedly unavailable.


    Eventually, after at least five minutes, Thomas had managed to push all the trash to the bottom of his core and keep it there, then held a few useful materials above those, and managed to sort to hippo into an entirely separate portion, where he could simply pull it outside his core, automatically creating a copy.


    ¡­ Which he couldn¡¯t see in the real world.


    ¡°And once it¡¯s outside, just pump some energy into it,¡± Elias instructed, and Thomas obeyed.


    For a long moment, nothing happened, and, then part of the floor ¡°popped¡± in an explosion of gore.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re supposed to summon your creatures while they¡¯re overlapping with other solid objects,¡± Elias said after a long moment.


    ¡°But I can¡¯t see what I¡¯m doing.¡±


    ¡°Thomas, did you ever stop filtering out your ability to see supernatural energies?¡± Elias asked after another long pause.


    Instead of replying, Thomas just did what the fairy had advised, focussing on allowing himself to see what he was doing, and finally placed a wireframe outline of the ¡°monster¡± in question a centimeter above the floor, right-side up, and poured mana from a rapidly dwindling pool into it.


    And then, the big, tubby, block of fat, muscle, and destructive power manifested.


    If there was ever an indicator that Elias was from another planet, other than, you know, him outright saying so, his reaction to the hippopotamus would have been Thomas¡¯ biggest clue.


    ¡°What exactly is that bucket of lard supposed to do?¡± he asked, hovering in front of the beast¡¯s closed maw.


    Oh, big mistake.


    Taking control of the hippo was easy enough, Elias had already mentioned that a core could normally control their summoned monsters, and the process was smooth as silk.


    As the top of the hippopotamus¡¯ head rose to reveal the inside of its gigantic maw, Elias¡¯ jaw dropped.


    ¡°Hippos are practically invulnerable to any creature in their home environment, and only the strongest handheld weaponry can take them down,¡± Thomas explained, ¡°That jaw of theirs can tear through basically any creature they¡¯re likely to encounter, and they¡¯re also a hell of a lot faster than they look. A human wouldn¡¯t be able to outrun one without an insane head start.¡±


    ¡°Standard human,¡± Elias corrected, ¡°Humans can grow to be capable of some insane things, but you¡¯re clearly yet to see that. Or maybe you did and just forgot. Dungeon cores are tough as hell, but there¡¯s a big difference between what people like me start out as, and what they become capable of in due time.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, regardless of that, you¡¯re now a winged little smartass,¡± Thomas muttered.


    ¡°Whoa, where did that come from?¡± Elias held up both hands defensively as he fluttered backwards.


    ¡°You treat the idea that I was once human like a joke,¡± Thomas reminded him.


    ¡°Yeah, cause that¡¯s not possible,¡± Elias retorted, ¡°Dungeon cores come into being at F-Rank with animal cunning and the ability to absorb and recreate matter and living beings. Then, at E-Rank, where you currently are, they can directly control their monsters, and create conditions under which certain orders will automatically be given. At D-Rank, you¡¯ll gain the ability to fuse materials and creatures, until eventually, you¡¯ll hit C-Rank, gain full human-level cognition and fine control over your manifestations.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re capable of coming up with a lie like that, but I also know that you can¡¯t have been human, or be able to think like one!¡±


    Oh, that was it!


    Thomas gathered his mana, preparing to manifest another hippo a hairs-breadth from Elias¡¯ back to scare him, but in the end, that didn¡¯t quite work out well. As in, it didn¡¯t work at all.


    He¡¯d spent a few moments to try and make sure he didn¡¯t accidentally summon the hippo on top of the fairy and kill him, but then, the wireframe had winked out. Not only that, but the energy field pervading the room, his ¡°domain¡±, he assumed, had grown oddly ¡­ solid, as if to tell him that he¡¯d no longer be able to change anything within.


    And then, he saw the towering figure pushing its way into the room.

 Chapter 2: Chomp!

    The being stood around two meters tall, its head brushing the top of the entrance, but it was clearly larger considering it was walking in a constant slump.


    Its head was that of a Komodo Dragon, long and lizardlike, but its build was massive, bulky, reminding him of a massive saltwater crocodile, the kind of beast that acted as the big bad of a horror movie.


    Long arms hung down to its knees, overly muscled to the point where it was practically obscene, tipped with long claws that came out favorably in comparison to steak knives.


    As the beast looked around, a forked yellow tongue flicked in and out of its mouth. Yeesh, that thing looked terrifying.


    Thomas felt a soft ¡°clink¡± as Elias landed on his core, and began to ¡°whisper¡± to him.


    No, not whisper, that involved talking, he was speaking straight into his mind, why hadn¡¯t he done that before? Then again, maybe he¡¯d been doing that the whole time, which explained how Thomas had always been able to hear him.


    Urgh, it was situations like this that Thomas wished he¡¯d still had arms so he could slap himself to snap himself out of it. The situation was freaky as fuck, but also so, so interesting, but if he kept focussing on the magical aspect of this situation, he¡¯d get himself killed in incredibly short order.


    ¡°Basically, you can¡¯t summon new stuff in rooms with enemies inside. Kill the invader, and you¡¯ll be able to summon a lot more monsters and create defenses. But you need to hurry once you¡¯ve killed the invader.


    ¡°That¡¯s a Dire Lizardman, high F-Rank, nasty infectious bite, venom on the claws ¡­ you¡¯d better hope ¡®lard bucket¡¯ over there is as good as you think.¡±


    Thomas filed away the actually useful information for use in combat, ignored the jab, and focussed on giving the hippo orders.


    An infectious bite, envenomated claws ¡­ all very, very nasty, but in the end, neither of those worked rapidly. If the hippo could kill the lizard, it wouldn¡¯t really matter what happened to it afterward. Not really.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Upon seeing the hippo advance, the lizard raised its hands defensively for a moment and took a few steps back, only for a shiver to move through the beast as it seemed to steel itself for combat.


    It crouched down into a strange martial arts pose, arms spreading low and wide, ready for claws to be thrust into the hippo¡¯s throat. It might have made sense as a mid-combat move, crouching down and erupting forward into a strike, but not as an initial pose to strike and shuffle forward in.


    It looked weird, and prententuous, and Elias scoffed at the whole affair, but it might work. Might.


    The hippo charged, picking up speed at a rate that would be alarming for anyone standing before it, which apparently included the lizard person, which went greener than it already was and threw itself to the side.


    So the three-ton Dungeon monster missed and careened into the wall behind the lizard, leaving a sizeable crater. Claws flashed and slashed, carving deep groves into the hippo¡¯s back, the wounds glistening an uncomfortable shade of green.


    Well, crap. Elias had said these things were venomous, but seeing it in action wasn¡¯t sobering.


    However, the hippopotamus wasn¡¯t out of the fight just yet. Badly, potentially fatally, poisoned it might be, most of the cuts had been on its hindquarters and not gotten far through the immensely thick skin.


    It whirled, headbutting the lizardman in the chest with enough force to knock it on its ass, then closed the distance and closed its jaws around the invader¡¯s chest with inexorable force. With a nauseating ¡°crunch¡±, tusks tore through the outer layer of scales and penetrated ever deeper even as the lizard continued its attacks. Eyes, throat, the approximate position of tendons and vital blood vessels ¡­ even without venom, that hippo was not long for this world.


    Even so, it was the lizard who died first, chest crushed into paste, sending a strange kind of energy towards Thomas. He absorbed it without really thinking about it, feeling himself grow to an infinitesimal degree.


    ¡°So, up next we¡¯re going to have to ¡­¡± Elias began, but Thomas cut him off.


    ¡°Here¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do: I¡¯m going to build up some proper defenses for this place, and you¡¯re going to keep your trap shut unless I do something really stupid, and even if you interrupt, you¡¯re just going to explain exactly what the issue is.


    ¡°And then, you¡¯re going to explain how powers work in this crazy world. What the Ranks actually mean, if and how people can grow in power, what I need to prepare for, and everything else I need to know. Only then.¡±


    Elias looked like he was going to argue for a moment, but then paused and smashed his left fist against his chest over where Thomas assumed his heart was. Probably a salute of some kind.

 Chapter 3: Building the Citadel

    ¡°Shortest possible explanation of how Dungeons work: absorb stuff and gain the ability to recreate it.


    ¡°With that stuff, you make structures and reinforce them with mana to the point where they¡¯re functionally indestructible at your rank, make as much as you want as long as you don¡¯t block access to your core. The same goes for traps, they can¡¯t directly block access. For example, poison mist needs to either disperse eventually or be passable by someone of your Rank without crippling or killing them.


    ¡°As long as you have mana and your core is still accessible, go nuts.¡±


    Not being able to physically or metaphysically block his core didn¡¯t make a whole lot of sense to Thomas, especially how it worked with traps, but he was also fully aware of the fact that now wasn¡¯t the time to ask. Especially as he¡¯d just torn a strip off Elias for not explaining the important shit up front.


    As much as Thomas wanted to interrogate the fairy about every aspect ¡­ Dungeon-ing? he had a job to do. Make sure that their next battle wasn¡¯t won by the grace of God, but by a powerful and well-thought-out defense that could win repeatedly and reliably.


    So he kept his trap shut and filed that topic away for later. Because there would be an interrogation, about this and any other topic that came up before then, come hell or high water.


    ¡°Monsters are simple, you can create as many as you can make by spending your entire mana pool in one go, and that¡¯s the maximum you can have puttering around at any one time. But monsters below your current Rank are halved in influence cost for every Rank below your own. They¡¯ll still cost the same after ranking up, but you can have a ton of them.


    ¡°You can also enhance monsters, raising them up to your current Rank after they¡¯ve fought a little, and I¡¯ll tell you how to create boss monsters once you¡¯re able to do so.


    ¡°And you can only start to create sapient creatures once you¡¯re at C-Rank, irrespective of the creature¡¯s Rank.¡±


    So, Thomas had everything around him to build his Dungeon with, from the materials to the exhibits. Though he was also pretty sure there were some awesome things just outside the room, through the door and down a short corridor into the gallery of mammals, which not only held several bears but also a friggin sabertooth tiger.


    But before he got fancy, he needed to put up some rudimentary defenses.


    Unfortunately, without that ¡°System¡± of Elias¡¯, Thomas was going entirely by feel, his magic washing out into his ¡°territory¡±, which currently only consisted of a single room, and beginning to absorb creatures, removing various bloodstains when he struck them. The blood didn¡¯t grant him any new patterns, but he was able to differentiate between the different people who¡¯d bled all over the place.


    There was blood here from a lot of different sources. Dozens of people had been not just hurt but injured badly enough for their crimson lifeblood to splatter about the place. They were most likely dead, eaten by creatures like that lizard.


    And as for the patterns, mostly, he went for the big stuff, an elephant, a rhino, a boar, and a prehistoric creature called an arsinoitherium.


    The last creature had actually been present as a fossil, but he¡¯d taken a chance and it on the off chance that he¡¯d be able to use it.


    It basically looked like a rhino, but one that had two horns shaped like traffic cones, side by side, giving the creature a massive ¡°V¡± on its nose. However, upon absorbing it, an extra bit of information appeared in his mind, informing him of the fact that the creature was actually closely related to his hippo.


    Mostly, it looked like it¡¯d be lighter on its feet than the rhino, being taller and less squat, though it lacked the armor of the modern beast.


    And considering that he¡¯d been able to get a monster from a fossil once, there was a good chance he¡¯d be able to grab some dinosaurs once he reached that particular exhibit.


    However, he also grabbed a tiny, adorable deer thing called a blue duiker. It was the smallest creature he¡¯d seen on his first pass through the room, and in the absence of a System to tell him how much mana he had, he needed a yardstick, something to compare his expenditure to.


    Making the actual comparison was something he¡¯d planned to save until later, but somehow, it was interpreted properly automatically. The hippo cost about as much as nine duikers, the rhino would cost as much as a dozen, an arsinoitherium was worth fifteen, and an elephant twenty.


    But that only worked when he was able to directly compare creatures in the part of his core that held his patterns. His pool of available magic was unavailable for direct comparison.


    The only thing he could tell was that his mana pool was big enough that summoning a single duiker barely caused it to dip.


    On the other hand, when he¡¯d summoned the elephant he wanted to use as a final boss, a large chunk of his available energy vanished, almost a third. However, at the same time, Thomas could also tell that his energy pool was nowhere near full, and he¡¯d already summoned a ton of creatures before he¡¯d thought to try that out.


    Right now, he had a few defenders sitting around, including a five-ton African elephant ready to sit on anything that disturbed him, which stood right in front of his core


    The rhino and arsinoitherium, meanwhile, were on opposite ends of the room, staring at the entrance, ready to charge. He¡¯d gone ahead and removed all ground-level obstacles while they got into position, not just the animals he¡¯d absorbed to turn into monsters. Organizing his core afterwards had been a pain, but he¡¯d managed it.


    Two hippos, a rhino, a ¡°sort of¡± rhino in the arsinoitherium, and an elephant. And the duiker, he supposed, as he hadn¡¯t gotten rid of it after summoning one to see how much of his mana it ate.


    That should be enough to deal with another lizard if it decided to show its ugly face.


    Onto the making of the walls.


    Right now, his main priority was reshaping the room to increase the length of the path between the door and him.


    Right now, the door was maybe fifteen meters away from his core, all one would have to do was walk inside and turn left and that¡¯d be it.


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    So he put up a wall around the door, leaving only one path forward, the stairs to the mezzanine that ran the entire circumference of the room. Then, he extended the mezzanine¡¯s railing upwards to entirely cut it off from the room, forcing those who entered to walk all the way around the second set of stairs, on the opposite side. Cramped confines, with barely any light, perfect for any small creatures that he eventually picked up. Badgers or something, if he could find one.


    For now, though, he just summoned an arsinoitherium up there. It¡¯d charge when it saw something, and there was no dodging up there. One would either have to kill it before it got up to speed or run.


    As for the main room, he cut it in half with a wall that connected both stairwells. The first would hold the rhino and the first arsinoitherium he¡¯d summoned, the other the elephant and his core. He also took the time to slap a layer of concrete over the armor that had supposedly belonged to Elias, lest someone steal it. It wasn¡¯t like they could use it just yet, and based on the energy it emitted, absorbing it would be fatal.


    And the blue duiker stayed with the core as well. It was cute, and that was all the justification he needed.


    At first, he¡¯d considered putting it in the corridor, and have it do puppy dog eyes at potential invaders as they killed it for some psychological warfare, but decided against it. People who fell for something like that would probably not be invading dungeons, and animals would just be glad for the meal.


    ¡°Is now a good time to explain some more stuff? Namely, how you grow and why I¡¯m not as helpful as I could be,¡¯¡± Elias asked.


    ¡°You¡¯re not being helpful? ¡­ You don¡¯t say ¡­¡± Thomas replied sarcastically.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, why don¡¯t you get it all out of your system,¡± Elias sighed.


    ¡°Nope, that was it. Go ahead,¡± Thomas grumbled.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Elias flitted closer to Thomas¡¯ core and began to explain. ¡°Dungeons are powerful entities that warp reality around them, the living incarnation of the concept of ¡®challenge¡¯.


    ¡°They¡¯re capable of creating structures and manifesting powerful defenders from the beasts that fall within and grow in power when invaders die inside.


    ¡°However, any invaders that succeed in delving into one¡¯s depths will come out the stronger for it, however, their powers may function. Cultivation bases are strengthened, mana channels are empowered, XP is granted, monsters absorb whatever evolutionary energy they require, and so on.


    ¡°It is a Dungeon¡¯s purpose to be enticing to potential delvers to grow while becoming neither a deathtrap nor pushover.


    ¡°As a part of their nature as incarnations of challenge, Dungeons cannot create no-win scenarios for those at their own rank. Some beings may simply be too big to enter, have a severe aversion to materials used in their construction, but the dominant local sapient species must be able to reach the core in theory.


    ¡°That means no impassable tunnels on the way to the core, whether they¡¯re blocked by traps guaranteed to lead to death or a simple wall. In addition, they cannot alter their layout to directly affect invaders, for example, by dropping rocks on them, nor can they easily do anything in the vicinity of living beings that are not a part of the Dungeon.¡±


    ¡°Build defenses, wait for invaders to show up, send them packing, grow in power. And don¡¯t create a deathtrap or no-win scenario in the process. Sounds simple enough,¡± Thomas summarized.


    ¡°It really isn¡¯t,¡± Elias grumbled. ¡°The issue is that most Dungeons tend to go a bit ¡­ overboard in the lower Ranks and drown their worlds in blood as they grow. I¡¯m not saying you have to be a utopian resort full of rainbows and puppies, but I¡¯d like you to not become one of the really bad ones.


    ¡°In addition, Dungeons¡¯ world-warping abilities can cause serious issues if they try to affect certain things without the control gained at the higher Ranks. I¡¯m not telling you what they are, I¡¯m not even going to mention the concepts, until you can use them safely.¡±


    ¡°What if I came up with the ideas on my own?¡± Thomas asked. It made sense that the ¡°simple¡± Dungeon Elias believed him to be would not be that smart, but he could imagine what ideas could end in tragedy if he messed with them. Antimatter, unnaturally dense materials, etc.


    Control over his manifestations was sadly something he lacked. He could directly recreate materials he absorbed in the exact shape he¡¯d absorbed, and create large, simple, shapes like squares or circles, but something more complicated, writing for example, was functionally impossible at the moment.


    He¡¯d figured out he could absorb or create several small chunks of material to eventually create larger constructions, but that took an insane amount of both mana and time.


    As things stood, he wielded his power roughly, often tearing out large chunks around the thing he wanted to absorb, and then later filling in the gaps. For some reason, just slapping more material into existing holes wasn¡¯t particularly complicated.


    ¡°I¡¯ll know if you come up with something like that,¡± Elias replied. ¡°If.¡±


    Oh, screw you, Tinkerbell. Thomas sighed internally. Don¡¯t kill the fairy, Thomas, don¡¯t kill the fucking fairy ¡­


    He somewhat understood the issue, the source of his advisor¡¯s caution, but that didn¡¯t make it any less grating.


    On to digging some pit traps with spikes at the bottom for some distraction!


    They weren¡¯t particularly complicated, he just absorbed the ground underneath the carpet, spent some more time cautiously wearing down the bottom of the carpet to make it thinner and weaker, ready to tear the instant someone stepped on it.


    And finally, he placed a series of sharp railing chunks at the bottom. One of the bits he¡¯d accidentally ¡°eaten¡± had turned out to have one relatively blunt and one incredibly sharp end. The blunt ends went into the ground and the sharp ones pointed skywards.


    ¡°You know, I was thinking,¡± Thomas said off-handedly while putting in some of the finishing touches. ¡°Of all the worlds you¡¯ve ever been to or heard of, you¡¯ve never heard of a hippo, right? But you know about Dire Lizard- ¡­ is the species name Lizardmen or Lizardpeople? Whatever. You know about them, right?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Lizard people, but I¡¯m not sure I know what you¡¯re getting at,¡± Elias stated from his perch atop the duiker. He¡¯d decided that the top of the adorable creature¡¯s head was now his seat and settled down there. Thomas¡¯ only response had been telling the duiker to leave the fairy be, and not throw him off.


    ¡°My point is that you¡¯re right, a hippopotamus looks like a tub of lard at first glance, and they apparently don¡¯t naturally occur on the same worlds as Lizard people. But that thing was scared of my hippo.


    ¡°So, either that thing was smart as hell and recognized the hippo as a threat before the fight ¡­ or it actually knew what a hippo was.¡±


    ¡°And I¡¯m guessing you have an idea about what that reason is?¡± Elias responded. He was currently sprawled atop the adorable deer¡¯s head, and looking quite bored.


    ¡°Yeah. If you got turned into a Dungeon Fairy, and I got turned into a Dungeon Core, what¡¯s to say that someone else didn¡¯t get turned into a Dire Lizardperson? What if there is a whole bunch of people out there who got transformed?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not human, you¡¯re a rock trying to pull a sca- ¡­ HEY!¡± Elias yelped as his ¡°seat¡± suddenly bucked him off. Shooting Thomas¡¯ core a filthy look, he added, ¡°The rest makes a weird sort of sense. People with the powers of monsters ¡­ that is never good.


    ¡°Human cunning and monstrous strength is a potent combination and generally, those kinds of drastic permanent transformations tend to wear on their victims¡¯ minds even if no new urges or compulsions accompany the shift. This is going to get ugly. Almost as ugly as they¡¯re going to get if you don¡¯t knock off that scam of yours!¡±


    Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake ¡­ if Elias kept his up, shit would really hit the fan, one of these days.


    Thomas considered trying to have one of the creatures drool on the Fairy but figured that might be easy to misunderstand as a death threat. While his stubbornness was irritating to the extreme, Elias was useful. And who knew, maybe Thomas might be able to win that argument one of these days.


    Thankfully, before he could escalate things, the target of his ire decided to flit out of the room.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to scout, see you in a bit.¡±


    ¡°Leaving to cool off, would if I could ¡­ jackass,¡± Thomas muttered once the fairy was out of sight.


    But without the little, bronze-winged, chatterbox around, he began to fall deep into thought. What the actual fuck had happened?


    He¡¯d turned into a rock, and that rock had magical powers, while everyone else who¡¯d been in the museum at the time had been slaughtered.


    Had the museum changed places, or had a massive jungle suddenly been dumped onto central London?

 Chapter 38: The Other Zones (Book 2 Start)

    Cameron Jones normally wasn¡¯t one for computers. They were fragile, finicky, and you practically needed to be a rocket scientist to use even their simplest functions.


    But this ¡°System¡± malarkey, even if it looked exactly like those computer games his grandchildren kept wanting him to play, that he could get behind.


    It did what it was supposed to, it did what it actually said on the tin, no ¡°press Start to shut off¡± nonsense, you could give it verbal commands and it didn¡¯t have a million tiny little clicky things that looked the exact darn same and you had to hit them just right to get anywhere ¡­ no, it worked.


    He¡¯d told it to stop using that weird Japanese letter-grading System and now displayed numbers, it explained his powers in ways he could understand. And it even acted as his doctor, tracking his health, while also curing many of the aches and pains that plagued him in his old age. Hell, it even told him when he needed water. He¡¯d stopped really feeling thirsty, oh, five years ago and had to force himself to just drink water in set intervals to avoid getting dehydrated after winding up in the hospital once.


    He¡¯d customized it as much as he wanted, and it even had features like letting him adjust where his reinforcing power went, whenever he wanted. Well, there was one small limitation of him not being allowed to mess with that when he was actively fighting something.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Name: Cameron Jones


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Race: Rank 2 Human (Path of the Elements; Monarch of Motion)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Enhancement Distribution (Mind/Body/Magic)


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    35-20-45


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Physical Status: Healthy, Tired


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Progress to next Rank: 37%


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Abilities


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Kinetic Empowerment


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Kinetic Redistribution


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    The first time he¡¯d shot a monster, that screen had popped up in his face, declaring that he had enough mastery of moving stuff to get related superpowers.


    And then it had actually asked him if he wanted them. Of course he had.


    His powers were pretty simple. He could make his projectiles go faster, hit harder, and once he¡¯d advanced to the second rank, he¡¯d been able to slow stuff down if he sped other stuff up, or redirect projectiles by removing motion in direction and adding it to the side of the bullet.


    Life this last week had been insane, and weirdly fun.


    His farm might have been iced over in a way he¡¯d never seen, but there were a lot of rich idiots willing to spend money on monster corpses once his grandson outside the snow zone had gotten the word out and it wasn¡¯t like he used any of the fancy doodads that had stopped working when the world had changed.


    The generator worked, the lights worked, the water heater worked, and he had the world¡¯s biggest ice box sitting right outside his window. What else did he need?


    Oh, right, he was out of meat. Time to go hunting.


    Cameron had his hunting rifle slung over one shoulder, a revolver securely tucked into its holster, a hunting knife on his belt, and enough supplies to let him wait out a blizzard in his pack. He was well prepared for an expedition out into the magical world of ice and snow.


    Of course, he was well aware of the fact that none of this was safe, but he was accustomed to danger like this. It was manageable.


    And now that he was at Rank 2, there was once again a human on the top of the local food chain!


    He moved through the strange patchwork fusion of cornfields and frozen trees, but for once, there weren¡¯t any critters to be found. Just ice and snow ¡­ and a strange tinkling sound.


    What was that? Were two of those icicle foxes messing around, or were random chunks of ice being banged together randomly?


    The figure could be felt before it could be seen, but when he saw it, his blood ran cold. Literally.


    It was as tall as a telephone pole, made from ice so clear it might as well be the purest crystal, and had an impassionate face that looked like something out of one of those alien invasion movies his son liked so much.


    Cameron didn¡¯t even hesitate, his hunting rifle snapped up and he pulled the trigger, hurling lead at the monster.


    As it flew, he continued to pile on more speed. The longer the range, the faster his bullets flew.


    A simple hunting rifle could crack an engine block in half at twenty meters, and probably destroy two at a hundred and fifty meters. At almost three hundred meters?


    That monster¡¯s chest should have exploded like a rotten pumpkin he¡¯d run over with his tractor.


    But it didn¡¯t. In fact, it barely even seemed to notice. Its head didn¡¯t turn to face him, it didn¡¯t draw any weapons, nothing.


    And then he heard it.


    A sigh, interspersed with the sound of tinkling crystal. And along with that sound came a wave of deathly cold, hitting Cameron like a physical thing.


    He ran.


    Leave that monster to the army, he¡¯d stick to the outermost reaches, or even resort to spam if he had to.


    And even with his immediate response, he barely managed to return to his home and plop down in front of the oven, and stayed there for almost three hours, until the tip of his nose gained first-degree burns from sheer proximity.


    Never again.


    ***


    Colonel James Hunter, USMC, once again visited the beached Amphibious Assault Ship that had gotten stuck in the suddenly appearing mangrove forest while it and the rest of the 11<sup>th</sup> Marine Expeditionary Unit had been traveling through the southern Pacific.


    Thankfully, the change had been gradual enough that the ship had merely been bogged down and eventually come to a stop instead of running aground on land that had simply not been there a split-second previous, but the situation was still plenty bad.


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    The collection of vessels under his command had been traveling along during their regular circuit, ready to put boots on the ground within at most seventy-two hours should an incident take place within their area of responsibility.


    And then the exact sort of thing they were supposed to be to before anyone else had found them first.


    Only a single ship had managed to avoid getting bogged down and was currently mooring right off the ¡°coast¡± of the new land while the marines under his command were busy digging the ships out, using explosives when possible, shovels, and axes when not. At this rate, it would take another week or so for the first vessel to get free.


    Of course, James worked out of the not-stuck ship since it was the only one that still had working long-range communications.


    At first, they¡¯d assumed the magical forest had fried all electronics, but that had rapidly proven false. It was just the fancy pieces of gear that failed, radios, computers, and the like, flashlights, and other simple stuff had kept working. They¡¯d eventually managed to narrow it down further to the fact that anything with microchips had gotten fried. Somehow.


    That was a lot of stuff that¡¯d have to be fixed once the ships had been dug out.


    And until then, everyone would be tired, muddy, sore from freeing the ships and the best thing he could do was stay out of the way of the people on the ground.


    It was boring work and it was monotonous, but at least it kept them busy.


    After all, any given Marine was an elite soldier, and any given group of Marines with a mission was an elite group that would finish said mission come hell or high water, but put more than one Marine in a room without anything to do and they would come up with the dumbest shit you¡¯d ever seen.


    James gave a short snort as he recalled some of his own shenanigans. They hadn¡¯t been bad enough to make it into his file, thankfully, but they¡¯d happened.


    Of course, unlike most people who got up to nonsense armed with assault rifles and within reach of high explosives, Marines survived said nonsense, but it was still not good if it happened a lot.


    And it was only a matter of time until someone decided that tear gas made a good replacement for bug spray.


    At least the locals were friendly. Unlike some of his previous deployments, when it had been a fifty-fifty chance whether a given piece of advice was life-saving sage wisdom about surviving the desert or part of a nasty trap that would eventually get you killed.


    Like, for example, when they told one of his men that a totally not dangerous scorpion would make for a perfect pet, when, in fact, the creature in question did not only possess a sting capable of killing a man but also had a nasty temper that would see them either chase or track you down if you were less than two miles from them.


    Luckily, they¡¯d figured that out before anyone got hurt and dumped the critter out in the desert well outside the radius where it might come back for revenge. Arabian Fat-Tailed Mankillers were no joke.


    No, the locals were perfectly nice, polite, and decidedly not human.


    They were manatees, for all practical intents and purposes, though they could speak. At first, the assumption had been that they were literally telepathic, but eventually, a decibel meter one of the combat engineers had squirreled away somewhere had proven that they were simply creating soundwaves from nothing.


    It might as well be magic, and considering where they were, that was even an actual possibility to be considered.


    So yeah, the locals were cool and all, but the baby manatees were so cute. Positively adorable, really, but that was a problem. After all, they looked like cuddly animals despite being so intelligent. Also, they were a curious lot that loved to come up to the Marines, right within petting range, and that made them hard to resist.


    However, petting the cute baby manatees when the opportunity presented itself was no different than walking through a random city and patting random kids on the head. Best case scenario, people would think you were a creep, but more likely, you¡¯d find yourself on the business end of a shotgun in short order.


    Down below, he watched as a marine leaped out of the water like a porpoise, mud splattering everywhere as he hacked his axe into a thick tree trunk to avoid having to later dig it out of the bog.


    And, oh yeah, the manatees had a way of granting superpowers, as part of a certain ¡°system¡±. To start with, it gave perfect water adaptation, including the ability to breathe underwater, ludicrous swimming speed, immunity to the pressure of the depths, and so on. And later, it would bestow the same sound manipulation ability the locals used to communicate, though it could supposedly pull triple duty by also serving as a magical, built-in sonar and even a weapon, once its wielder got powerful enough.


    However, any bestowals outside the initial group of volunteers would require a proper treaty. Apparently, the manatee people, who had declined to give any proper name for themselves and were more than willing to let themselves be referred to as variations on the phrase ¡°intelligent manatees¡±, were more than aware of how messy the world situation was. And they wanted assurances. Smart, that.


    But the weirdest part of it all was the fact that there were other Systems out there. Apparently, the British police had gotten their hands on something similar, and the winter wonderland in the Midwest had apparently used to hand out elemental superpowers to anyone who showed they could use said element until that particular system had apparently realized that just because someone had a lighter didn¡¯t mean they were a master of fire or some nonsense like that.


    And then you had four more magical areas, maybe five.


    The 24<sup>th</sup> Marine Expeditionary Unit was currently watching over a crumbling patch desert that had been dumped in the Southern Atlantic, with sand collapsing into the ocean and causing huge algae blooms that were already causing trouble with the water purifiers. No ¡°system¡± as far as anyone could tell, just a whole lot of sand, magical desert critters and someone had supposedly even seen a few creatures of living sand, wind, and even, once, fire.


    The Brits had their own mess, of course, with their capital having mostly turned into a jungle, and Siberia had turned into even more of an inhospitable mess than it had already been when it had gotten transformed into a crystalline landscape full of what basically amounted to golems.


    And the perfectly circular area of land that had appeared in the Indian Ocean appeared to have come straight out of hell itself, a fire-blasted landscape inhabited by literal demons, or at least that was what it looked like.


    Which just left the two patches of discolored ocean.


    One in the northern Atlantic which people were claiming contained Atlantis but had thus far produced precisely nothing, and the other was a few hundred kilometers off the coast of Japan, a giant hole filled with all sorts of creepy crawlies currently being guarded by the Chinese navy.


    ***


    Captain Tao Wen glared at the depth charges cluttering up the deck of his destroyer. And ¡°clutter¡± was decidedly the correct term for this mess.


    They were largely obsolete by modern standards, replaced by various torpedo- and rocket-systems that were far more capable of sinking submarines than big bombs randomly thrown over the side, but that had been before the current crisis.


    Many monsters were hard to see with radar and even harder to track down with sufficient precision to target them with modern smart weaponry.


    If they had enough of the old-style munitions and sufficient forewarning, taking down individual beasts was perfectly doable.


    But the weapons were also very much in the way of normal operations, precariously perched wherever there was space available. And even with all that effort having gone into it, his ship¡¯s arsenal was nowhere near enough to kill anything even remotely near the apex of the strange, alien, foodchain down below.


    The area that had simply appeared in international waters in the northern Pacific was like nothing he¡¯d ever seen.


    It was like the ocean had no bottom here, just an endless black void of black water as cold as the Arctic. And it wasn¡¯t like he was unfamiliar with deep waters, the Mariana Trench might be the deepest part of the sea but there were plenty of other deep areas.


    But this one ¡­ this one was special in ways that went beyond the insanity of its bestial inhabitants.


    Once you got twenty meters deep, the water pressure just ¡­ stayed steady. Constant. Oxygen consumption for divers didn¡¯t increase, the risk of decompression sickness didn¡¯t change, and one could treat a dive that had gone five hundred meters deep as though the diver had never gone deeper than twenty.


    At least that was the assumption, no human had ever managed to get deeper than three hundred meters. Submarines attracted the biggest beasts in the strange void ocean and while scuba divers drew less attention, eventually even they drew ire if they got deep enough.


    But unmanned vehicles had confirmed that even two kilometers down below, water pressure was still impossibly low.


    Eight parts of the world had been transformed, but there was only one being watched over by the People¡¯s Liberation Army Navy.


    It currently didn¡¯t have a name, though the current most likely candidate was ¡°void ocean¡±. That being said, ¡°Devil¡¯s Aquarium¡± wouldn¡¯t have been an inaccurate name either.


    And one of his more religious subordinates claimed to have seen not just the biblical Leviathan, but two, swimming side by side. Not only that but he¡¯d also quoted an old piece of writing that claimed that if the leviathan had ever been able to breed, the world as a whole would be consumed.

 Chapter 39: System Chaos

    ¡°Elias, System¡¯s glitched again!¡± Thomas called out, but by the time the fairy showed up, he was laughing hysterically.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± Elias frowned.


    ¡°Oh, you wouldn¡¯t understand, it¡¯s ¡­ it¡¯s an Earth thing,¡± Thomas told him.


    It was ridiculous, but the current situation reminded him of a memory from his previous life.


    Of sitting down at a desk with a computer while a friend fiddled with the router, trying to set up the internet, shouting ¡°It¡¯s still not working¡± for the millionth time.


    And now, he was basically doing the exact same thing, but with regard to a supernatural force that granted superpowers.


    New world, old problems.


    The powers weren¡¯t gone, thankfully, but having everything quantified made things quite a bit easier. Knowing how much a given substance cost, what kind of small structures could be found inside of his countless matter patterns that he could use and abuse.


    For example, if he absorbed a chunk of coal, it was theoretically possible that some tiny part of it held carbon formed into an absolutely perfect lattice known as diamond, which he could then replicate into a fist-sized hunk of extremely expensive materials.


    Of course, the museum had an entire room full of interesting minerals on the second floor, at whose end was a vault full of actual precious stones, diamonds included, but there were likely a lot of other interesting things that Thomas could find.


    His current pride and joy, though, that he¡¯d managed to gain enough information on even though looking into it had crashed the System half a dozen times already.


    The potion he¡¯d stolen from that asshat cultivator was a B-Rank epic healing potion.


    According to Elias, gear and items were ranked from common to legendary within their respective Rank, with common referring to objects that were as mundane as they could possibly be within that rank, uncommon objects having been worked on in some way, and everything beyond that holding some manner of advanced magic.


    For example, watering down a single drop of the healing potion with almost an entire liter dropped the quality down to common. Though considering how most of the people he dealt with were still F-Rank, it was still immensely useful.


    There was also the even rarer ¡°mythical¡± classification, which referred to powerful magical items that scaled with the user¡¯s power in some way.


    The main point was that he¡¯d gotten his hands on a healing item so powerful that it might as well be a panacea to anyone he met. It was so expensive to make that he could barely afford to make it, mana wise, he even needed to fill the vial it came in in stages because his mana pool was too small, so using it as a regular loot drop was right out, but he could use it as a lure.


    Make a vial or two, post about their existence at the door, and watch people do all sorts of stupid things to get them. He¡¯d have to implement some kind of ¡°minimum power for entry¡± to make sure desperate people didn¡¯t get themselves killed en masse, but simply as a way to get soldiers of fortune and the like in the doors.


    Honestly, Thomas wasn¡¯t even entirely sure he¡¯d feel about it when the first human died in the Dungeon. Fully human, that meant, after all, he¡¯d killed at least one human-turned-monster before, probably two, maybe even more than that. And he¡¯d made his peace with that.


    In the end, he decided the best place to put the vial was the geology section. Putting the loot that drew in people right in front of his core was just asking for someone who¡¯d just lost a teammate to smash him. The main path to his core was also a delveable Dungeon, but you could quit it at any time. The new section was all about getting to the end, getting the prize, or being forced to retreat with basically nothing.


    But the geology section had a beautiful setup.


    A tall, three-story hall with two layers of balconies running around the outside of the room, and an escalator that led to the second story from the dead center, straight through a spherical sculpture. He could decorate that, turn the non-functional escalator into real stairs, and make people work their way back down through the exhibit. Go clockwise along the balcony, fight your way through whatever he put up there, reach the ground floor ¡­ and then walk back the same way they¡¯d gotten in.


    Yeah, that part¡¯d be annoying for the delvers, but Thomas was fine with that.


    And he¡¯d also make the top floor a water level, just to make diving through very difficult. Also, hopefully, in the delvers¡¯ memories, the ¡°stupid water level¡± would stick out more than the danger. The human brain could be funny like that, lending weight to certain things not based on their actual importance, but rather the emotions involved.


    So hopefully, they¡¯d blame the water for any failures, rather than the monsters, causing feelings of frustration rather than fear. Frustration could turn into stubbornness far more easily than fear, and he wanted to keep people coming back.


    That part of the Dungeon was meant to be a trap for the greedy, not something to farm XP.


    And locking the only vial of healing potion he¡¯d produced so far behind strong defenses didn¡¯t prevent him from gifting or trading any vials he made at a later date.


    He also had a bunch of cheap, diluted crap that involved manifesting a single drop of potion above a bucket of water which would, according to the System, do at least some work. The effect would be minimal but it should still be valuable.


    Heck, just sealing wounds that would heal on their own in a matter of days in an instant would be something that people with income to spare would be willing to pay for. Healing abilities existed, as evidenced by the orc who¡¯d gone dungeon-delving with that cop, but they seemed to be rare. At least he hadn¡¯t seen any in the monsters, though that might be more down to the source of his sample group than anything else.


    After all, monster powers seemed to be shared across species, so there wasn¡¯t an option for a herd to have a designated healer.


    Anyway, point was, magical healing would be one hell of a draw, now he just needed to defend it ¡­ once he implemented something that had just occurred to him.


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    Something so heinous that some might argue killing people for power was the lesser evil by comparison. Lootboxes ¡­ sort of.


    What was a lootbox, at the end of the day?


    Someone did something to get a random piece of loot from a set list, with odds that were now required to be publicly available in many parts of the EU.


    Now, Thomas might not have decided to create actual lootboxes, but he¡¯d had a different idea.


    Simply put, he¡¯d post the loot tables for his monsters at the front gate. Most people would only see the common bits of loot, like scales and pelts, which might be useful in crafting and potentially valuable for other reasons, but nothing particularly earth-shaking.


    However, he¡¯d made quite a few nice bits of other stuff that was more expensive to manifest, mana-wise, so he didn¡¯t drop them often. Familiar tokens, mostly, but also a large volume of magically-charged body parts or even diluted healing potions for the bosses.


    The issue was that the cost didn¡¯t hit Thomas when he set the loot table, but when the item was randomly summoned from the available list, so giving out the cool stuff overly much could result in a frustratingly high resource drain.


    But also, while Thomas might not have been a psychology expert or the like, he knew people. Dangle a reward in front of them, one that could be claimed just by grinding, people would go for it. Some, at least.


    By making it known what could be gained, he¡¯d get at least some returning customers ¡­ if people actually came along.


    The last week had been boring beyond belief. He was literally 99% of the way to D-Rank, having only gained 2% in the last seven days. Inspector Abrams had shown up briefly to tell him the cultivator had been arrested, and fought the entrance hall dinosaur, but then left again. Apparently, she¡¯d gotten caught up in the bureaucracy of the formation of a new agency to deal with the supernatural mess which had engulfed the world.


    And as for monsters, they were all in hiding. Which was weird.


    Initially, he¡¯d put it down to him having wiped out large chunks of the local population when they¡¯d invaded en masse, but Elias said that that couldn¡¯t possibly be the case.


    Not to mention that any monsters Thomas sent to explore beyond the bounds of his Dungeon almost immediately felt uncomfortable, as though they were being pressured by some powerful presence.


    Was there a big, bad, nasty creature out there after all? Why hadn¡¯t it shown up?


    Anyway, Thomas wasn¡¯t bored because he had so many patterns to play with, but he was antsy as fuck. All it¡¯d take was one minor invasion, and he¡¯d grow to D-Rank and maybe even unlock something cool.


    He might have been busy writing down the loot tables right now, but that didn¡¯t stop him from seething with frustration at the current state of affairs.


    But eventually, he was finished writing everything down and Elias flew away with them to post them to the front door, while Thomas decided to get himself some cute animal therapy.


    One of the three pet velociraptors he had surrounding his core jumped onto the table he usually wrote on and let itself be petted by his avatar.


    His most commonly used velocirator pattern was E-Rank, holding two powers. The first was Dungeon Avatar, which let him speak through them, while the second was shared by the jaguars he used for visitor crowd control.


    During the brief instances where the System hadn¡¯t been a glitchy mess, he¡¯d seen this power was called ¡°Inoffensive Existence¡±, and he wasn¡¯t particularly unhappy with that definition.


    Basically, it turned its bearers into living plush toys, adorable and almost unable to cause serious damage.


    In other words, these velociraptors were cute as heck, barely larger than a chicken, with huge eyes, covered in colorful feathers that were soft like velvet, with any that didn¡¯t stick up or otherwise drew the eye being basically goosedown.


    They were perfect for communicating with delvers when a diplomatic approach was needed, and the associated familiar tokens were going to be extremely coveted when their existence got out.


    After all, who didn¡¯t want an adorable dinosaur as a pet?


    But that was enough of the cute animal snuggles, Thomas had a Dungeon to build ¡­ once he¡¯d listened to why Elias was acting as though someone had tried to flush him down the toilet.


    ¡°There¡¯s a fucking dragon incoming!¡± the fairy mentally screamed, shooting through the museum¡¯s corridors like a bottle rocket.


    Ah, that¡¯d explain it.


    Normally, Thomas might have been annoyed at the interruption, but he¡¯d been waiting for a new invader for so damn long.


    He threw his mind upwards, into the body of one of his wyverns, which he immediately abused by using it like a CCTV camera. Magical creature, king of the skies, reduced to nothing more than a means to see invaders from afar.


    And Elias had been right. It was a bloody dragon.


    Granted, its shoulders only stood as high as a pony¡¯s, and if you ignored the tail, it was only a meter at most longer than one, but it was still a dragon, wings and all.


    The creature mostly was forest green, with the thin membranes of its wings a bright, pale, color while its scales were the darker color of pine needles. However, the beast¡¯s twin, backward-facing horns, large weapons that jutted from its skull, were dark brown, almost black, as were its claws and the line of spikes that ran alongside its back.


    But the most striking thing about it was its eyes. They burned with a venomous green light, promising pain and death, with pupils that were, for lack of a better word, darker than black, seemingly sucking in the light around it.


    Venomous green, that was a funny term, wasn¡¯t it? Everybody could picture the color, knew what it was, and yet, there was no real basis for it, no famous green liquid with toxic properties or anything of the like. Hell, there wasn¡¯t even a proper green poisonous dart frog, since they preferred colors that made them stand out. The green ones were an incredibly pale, unnatural, shade of the color, and it only covered a small part of their body, the rest of it was patterned black. So why ¡­ focus, Thomas, you can muse on that nonsense later.


    So, incoming dragon. The bugger could fly, and its wings were small enough that it should be able to get off the ground indoors.


    What to make to counter it?


    More giant sloths who could reach it with their long arms, another camarasaurus with its whip-tail, more jaguars in high places, sabertooth tigers to inject razor-sharp teeth ¡­ how about all of it?


    Thomas¡¯ supply of truly high-end creatures aside from his champions was somewhat small, but a swarm of slightly-less-than-high-end might do the trick.


    Normally, he didn¡¯t have the time to come up with a proper list of cool critters to summon, and then actually summon them, which was why he usually went straight for a whole bunch of powerful creatures that vaguely fit the bill.


    But somehow, this time, he was able to keep calling creatures into existence until he slammed headlong into his command limit, and the dragon was still nowhere near the entrance.


    Was it actually coming in, or just posturing?


    The dragon kept padding forward, projecting a level of cocksure confidence only found in hilariously overpowered anime characters, or smug villains one loved to see get punched in the face. It seemed to think that there was nothing that could hurt it, nothing at all.


    Admittedly, as it closed, Thomas¡¯ senses told him that it was D-Rank, but only barely. Sure, it had an extra power, but the real gain from hitting a new Rank was that power, physical enhancements came as one progressed within a Rank. Hell, this thing would probably be easier to kill than that fucking cultivator, since it was highly unlikely that it¡¯d have a massive number of magical healing cheat codes on its person.


    And then, a mere meter before the door, before it would have entered his domain, the dragon stopped, spreading its wings wide, and with a single flap, pulled itself up onto its hindlegs.


    Holy fuck, that was impressive. Or rather, Thomas felt it had been impressive, until it blew emerald green flame into his domain, a mere graze setting fire to one of the big wooden doors.


    Somehow, after that, merely standing on its hind legs didn¡¯t seem particularly impressive.


    ¡°Greetings, Dungeon. Do I have your attention? You may not have reached the Rank required for true thought, but if you do not understand the concept of power, you are not long for this world.¡±


    The dragon¡¯s voice was smooth, aristocratic, and somehow, without an accent and simultaneously holding every accent even remotely related to leadership or royalty. That thing could talk?


    ¡°I represent her imperial majesty, Empress Alaxia Mystscale, true ruler of the Jungle of the Verdant Hells, returned from her slumber. And you will submit to her rule, or face destruction. What is your choice?¡±


    Well, that didn¡¯t sound good.


    And what the actual hell did that mean?

 Chapter 40: Draconic Ultimatum

    ¡°Either that thing is lying, or ¡­ or one of the nastiest beings in existence just returned from the dead,¡± Elias said slowly. There had been no need for Thomas to relay the dragon¡¯s pronouncement, that was how loud it had been.


    ¡°No long time for long explanations, give me something I can use!¡± Thomas snapped.


    The dragon interrupted as Elias was opening his mouth to answer.


    ¡°You may take as much time as you need to make your choice, but remember, her imperial majesty has countless legions at her beck and call. You will not be able to proclaim your loyalty if one of her thousand dragons has already destroyed you to clear a path for her. I am but the least of her servants, they may not even realize you were in their way.¡±


    ¡°That can¡¯t be right, can it?¡± Thomas asked. Countless legions, thousands of dragons, most stronger than that thing, in this new London? They¡¯d have seen them, right? Not to mention that if this empress had that much power at her disposal, why bother to send a message to him personally? If he was so insignificant, why not just annex him alongside the land?


    ¡°Someone would have noticed if there were that many dragons around, and their magic would have started warping the jungle,¡± Elias echoed his thoughts. ¡°I¡¯ll buy a few dragons, but legions? Not possible.¡±


    So the dragon was bluffing. Probably. But by how much? That thing might still have had enough power backing it to utterly obliterate the Dungeon. And that was only if Thomas managed to beat this thing.


    He began to pull back most of his creatures while sending out a single Capuchin monkey to negotiate. Somehow, miraculously, the dragon waited for the Dungeon Avatar to arrive.


    So he had the monkey settle in front of the dragon, barely inside the Dungeon, sitting down and staring up into the lizard-like face of the far stronger creature.


    ¡°Hello.¡±


    It was a blunt, basic, statement. A delivery far more emotionless than Thomas would have normally used. But as annoying as Elias¡¯ initial attitude had been, it had taught him something. Dungeon Cores at his Rank were not meant to be all that smart. So why not pretend to be a real E-Rank Dungeon Core and act the fool?


    ¡°Hello, Core,¡± the dragon rumbled. ¡°Have you come to offer your allegiance, or must I destroy you?¡±


    ¡°Hello, I¡¯m Core.¡± Thomas answered and had the monkey give a little wave, hoping to get some more answers. ¡°Where are your legions? Is that your name?¡±


    The dragon¡¯s eyes narrowed, glaring down at the little avatar.


    ¡°I am Verdant Herald, and I need no legions.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a weird name,¡± Thomas commented only to Elias. ¡°His empress had a ¡®normal¡¯ name.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, a job title as a name ¡­ he¡¯s low in the hierarchy.¡±


    Thomas made the monkey scratch its back absent-mindedly to cover the pause while he was talking to his fairy.


    ¡°Do you think the empress would mind if I killed him?¡± Thomas asked, not really expecting a positive answer. If dragon society was even remotely like any of the societies he knew, then attacking a messenger or ambassador was going to result in brutal retribution.


    But that dragon was a problem. A powerhouse right on his front door, glaring at him, looking as though it might snap at any moment and go on a rampage. It certainly had gone very quickly from ¡°take your time¡± to ¡°answer or die¡±.


    And if he killed it, he¡¯d not only get rid of it, but he¡¯d also get at least an idea of what dragons were capable of. Not to mention that while it knew he was here, its superiors might not.


    ¡°If you attacked first, she probably would. But if she¡¯s who I think she is, if that thing outside our door starts something and gets killed, she¡¯d probably blame it, not you,¡± Elias explained.


    ¡°Well, your answer?¡± the dragon growled.


    ¡°Who is she, what do you know about her?¡± Thomas asked his fairy, hoping for an answer that would clarify things.


    ¡°She¡¯s supposed to be dead, for starters. Gone, vaporized by her own subjects for, uh ¡­ general tyrannical shittiness?¡±


    That didn¡¯t sound good. But he couldn¡¯t leave the dragon outside without an answer.


    ¡°What does your empress need from me, if she has thousands of dragons?¡± he had the monkey ask while asking Elias yet another question.


    ¡°You don¡¯t sound sure, do you know what actually happened?¡±


    The fairy shrugged helplessly. ¡°It happened like a week before I got turned into a fairy, in another universe. All I know is rumors. She¡¯s a terrible ruler, and she was kicked from her throne, everything else is specu- ¡­¡±


    As it turned out, holding two separate conversations was difficult and partially ignoring an impatient dragon was not conducive to long-term survival.


    A blast of flame wiped out the monkey avatar before the dragon raised its head to the sky, rising onto two feet, and roared in fury before dropping back down to all fours, marching into the dungeon, growling.


    ¡°You have not bent the knee willingly, so you will bend it under threat of death.¡±


    Well, wasn¡¯t that a statement?


    If Thomas hadn¡¯t already decided he didn¡¯t want to join ranks with that dragon and its ruler, that would have cinched it.


    His defenses were ready, his tactics laid out, his champions chomping at the bit.


    The dragon¡¯s wings snapped out the moment it was in the entrance hall, flinging itself skywards before coming to hover a couple of meters above the ground, glaring around, waiting.


    ¡°Well, dungeon?¡± it said in a mocking tone. ¡°Why don¡¯t you show me your fighting spirit? Or has my mere presence already broken you?¡±


    While Thomas had countless creatures, he only sent out a few critters at first. His sacrificial lambs, or rather, lions. Well, they were tigers in this case, but the point was that he was sacrificing reasonably strong defenders.


    The first creature launched itself at the dragon¡¯s face only to be reduced to ash in a single blast of emerald flame while a wingbeat carried it beyond the reach of a big feline that had launched itself at its tail.


    Spinning in midair, the invader raked a gout of flame across the wall, leaving a glowing, cherry-red trail on the marble and obliterating several of Thomas¡¯ creatures. Then, it let itself fall to the floor, landing heavily.


    There was a tiger down there, the one the dragon had dodged in mid-air, but it didn¡¯t live long, eviscerated by a single swipe of draconic claws.


    Fire breath, that was one power. Something that allowed it to function and, more importantly, fly, with very little concern for the laws of physics. That was a second. But being D-Rank, it should have a third.


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    What was it? It certainly wasn¡¯t obvious.


    The dragon lowered its head to the tiger¡¯s body, about to take a bite, when it saw a hippo run down the stars behind it. It turned back to the tiger and began to eat.


    And that was when the dragon found out just why one didn¡¯t discount creatures just due to appearances. Hippos looked like butterballs, granted, but they were butterballs that could bite.


    When the first hippo chomped down on the dragon¡¯s tail. The reaction was ¡­ it was the reaction of a cat whose tail someone had stepped on. An indignant screech accompanied by a startled leap of seemingly supernatural power, launching the dragon onto the mezzanine while yanking on the hippo¡¯s jaws with enough force to break its neck.


    Whoa.


    But the dragon wasn¡¯t done yet. Yanking on the tail when it was stuck in the hippo¡¯s mouth didn¡¯t just cut into its lips, but also resulted in the dungeon creature¡¯s teeth cutting into the tail. So when hippo blood, transformed into the lethal toxin of the Tatzelwyrm by Thomas, poured into the dragon¡¯s tail through those small scratches ¡­ it wasn¡¯t pretty.


    The invader roared so furiously Thomas was half-convinced the roof was about to come down, and started to run in circles, obliterating the few Dungeon creatures that entered its field of view almost casually.


    Until eventually, it came to a stop in the middle of the trashed entrance hall, growling furiously.


    ¡°Tricks are worthless in the face of absolute power.¡±


    It turned, practically twisting itself into a pretzel to bring its flame breath to bear on its tail, but it managed it, burning off the damaged part.


    ¡°And now, you will submit!¡±


    ¡°At least it still wants to dominate instead of kill?¡± Elias suggested.


    Thomas didn¡¯t answer, he was too focused on guiding his creatures. This would have to be timed perfectly.


    The dragon rounded a corner to the corridor, but before it could react, the camarasauruses he¡¯d crammed in there cracked their whip-tails forward, wrapping the infinitely flexible limbs around it and reeling it in.


    Sure, the dragon was physically powerful, but the dinosaurs were heavy.


    Even before the dragon had been fully reeled in, it had charbroiled one of the dinosaurs, but at that point, the survivors literally dogpiled on it. A multi-ton sauropod simply tipping itself onto its side, toppling over, made for one hell of an impact.


    Of course, the dragon was durable as hell, to the point where the weight of the dinosaurs did more damage to them than their target, but it was enough to shatter wings and, more importantly, pin the creature.


    A t-rex was the first of the creatures who attacked next, its jaws closing around the dragon¡¯s neck while it pushed its head down, trapping the dragon¡¯s deadliest weapon against the ground.


    Snakes shot across the ground, going for what had to be the weak spots in the dragon¡¯s scales. Joints, mostly, as the dragon didn¡¯t seem to have any external genitalia, though it didn¡¯t really seem to enjoy having a boomslang bite down on the inside of one of its nostrils. And a second snake managed to crunch down on its tongue, though that particular avenue of attack also put it in the path of another flame blast.


    Scratching and clawing like a feral cat while using swearwords that Thomas could barely even make sense of, the dragon struggled to free itself. Any normal creature in the same position would already have been long-dead. An F- or even E-Rank creature would also have died unless it had specialized powers. And shouldn¡¯t its stats be barely better than peak E-Rank?


    But no, that dragon was continuing to keep moving, keep fighting, until it finally managed to ever so briefly line up its jaws with one of the t-rex¡¯s legs. Flame raked the dinosaur¡¯s limb, feathers igniting, a pained growl escaping the dungeon creature¡¯s throat. And in that brief moment, its jaws loosened.


    The second blast of flame lasted for almost ten seconds, and by the time it let up, everything forward of the dino¡¯s forearms was gone, reduced to ash.


    Struggling even harder, crushing countless snakes almost by accident, the dragon began to free itself in truth ¡­ but in the end, it wasn¡¯t its own efforts that truly got it out from under the dinosaurs.


    But rather, a massive fist that caught it under the chin like a wrecking ball, lifting it up and hurling it almost ten meters backwards, right into the net the boomslangs had woven across the corridor entrance.


    The design was ingenious, really, with most of the vines being woven around the center while only the bare minimum of plant matter anchored the foliage to the archway. So when Dexter¡¯s punch had thrown the dragon into the trap, those anchor points had broken, causing everything to wrap around that damn foul-mouthed critter.


    Of course, practically mundane plant matter wasn¡¯t enough to hold a D-Rank, but there were now a ton of vines entangling the creature, and a whole bunch of snakes were along for the ride, having patiently waited in the plant net.


    So now, using the existing net as a base, they could keep entangling the dragon more and more, while using the vines as a cushion against the dragon throwing itself against walls and Dexter¡¯s punches.


    Between a giant sloth with unnaturally heavy fists pummeling it and all the snakes crawling over it, biting and envenomating anything and everything that looked even remotely vulnerable, the dragon was getting pummeled around like a football. And a few little critters that had been in the area were attacking too, wolverines nipping at exposed flesh, and a couple of sabertooth tigers managed to land solid bites.


    The long teeth punched through solid scales and snapped off, just as he¡¯d designed them to, dissolving into countless razor-sharp fragments that would travel through the dragon¡¯s bloodstream, carving up anything and everything they came into contact with.


    But even so, Dexter wasn¡¯t managing to do much damage, prioritizing landing constant punches to keep the dragon from lining up a solid fire breath over causing injury. And that dragon was one tough fucker.


    Eventually, the dragon decided to stop waiting for a good shot at its attacker and just started blasting. Was there a limit as to how much fire it could breathe? There had to be, right, otherwise, it would have just been spitting flames the entire time ¡­ right?


    At first, it was just a matter of a few sparks landing, igniting Dexter¡¯s fur, but sparks were often the prelude to flames, as was the case here.


    The unnatural toughness of a Dungeon champion shone through as the giant sloth continued to land punches even while fully engulfed in fire, flames licking at the vine net and setting that ablaze as well.


    It was at that point that Thomas decided to stop sending in more creatures and just let things play out. There was just too much fire all around the place, any reinforcements would catch fire in moments. Not worth it.


    Eventually, the last of his defenders dropped dead and the emerald fire burned it out, revealing a still alive and very pissed dragon. Very little remained of its wings, only twisted nubs of bones poking out behind its shoulders, and only a handful of scales were still visible, but it was still alive.


    ¡°You think this will stop me?¡± the dragon growled and continued its march deeper into the dungeon.


    The dragon was utterly crippled, had been scorched to hell, envenomated, and beaten within an inch of its life. And yet, it was advancing. Did it have a death wish? Also ¡­ how come the dragon had been damaged that badly by its own fire?


    What the hell was wrong with this thing?


    Growling furiously, the dragon advanced, cursing at any creature it came across, eviscerating or incinerating anything it came across, all the way to the mammal hall mezzanine.


    ¡°Once you have bent the knee, you will have to make more space in your halls,¡± it growled as it shimmied its way inside, a blast of fire every few meters ensuring that nothing remained.


    It would have been a good strategy ¡­ but Thomas had hidden several creatures behind fake walls, including an arsinoitherium.


    So when the dragon passed by the hiding spot, a multi-ton monster of a prehistoric beast hammered into its side, and this time, Thomas could clearly hear the crunch of breaking bone.


    Of course, the dragon was able to tear off the dungeon monster¡¯s head, but the damage was done.


    Now limping on top of everything else, the dragon eventually reached the massive boss room Thomas had turned mammal hall into.


    ¡°Wet floors? Pathetic!¡± it spat, a gout of flame evaporating the water turning the ground into a slipping hazard. ¡°How much more nonsense will you have me wade through?¡±


    Oh, just a few more things.


    Thomas grinned internally. The dragon might have been able to tear its way through everything else he had, but the next time, he¡¯d be better prepared, and this thing was about to come up against Cheshire. Even without the advantage of the slippery floor, a crippled dragon against the apex of what a sabertooth tiger could be? No contest.


    Cheshire blurred in, magically empowered claws slashing into the dragon¡¯s hindquarters, right where major blood vessels, muscles, and sinews were.


    With a furious roar, the dragon spun, but Cheshire once again activated the ability she¡¯d gained at E-Rank, all but teleporting to the other side of the room.


    It began to turn back around, already breathing fire, but Cheshire flashed into a different corner. She had maybe ten more bursts of supernatural speed in her, so she couldn¡¯t keep that up indefinitely, but that dragon was beat to hell, and she was about to push it ever closer to death.


    Judging that her target wouldn¡¯t be able to turn around in time to catch her, Cheshire charged in at her standard, but nevertheless fast, speed, once again clawed at its hindquarters, and leaped away again.


    This process repeated two more times until the dragon¡¯s back legs finally buckled, spilling it onto the ground. And before it could raise its head again, Cheshire was on top of it, sinking her teeth into its neck.


    That was the true purpose of the massive fangs of the sabertooth tiger. Thomas had repurposed them as single-use weapons that shredded an opponent¡¯s insides, then immediately regrew, in his regular critters, but Cheshire had the size and durability to employ her massive chompers against even a dragon.


    Ivory blades punched clean through every major blood vessel in the dragon¡¯s neck, as well as the windpipe, neatly severing every vital connection save the spinal cord. One second passed, then two, until the dragon¡¯s body finally let itself be dissolved by Thomas¡¯ influence. Finally, victory.

 Chapter 41: Strange Gains

    Well, that just happened. But at least he had a new dragon pattern.


    Thomas spent a few minutes reinforcing his dungeon just in case there was immediate retaliation, then summoned the creature.


    Tried to, at least.


    ¡°Where is that damn pattern?¡± he muttered, barely even aware of the fact that he was broadcasting the thought.


    ¡°With the rest?¡± Elias replied immediately. He was already fluttering towards the roof, whether that was to act as a sentry or just to sun himself, Thomas didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°Yeah, I checked there,¡± Thomas growled, this time, focusing on communicating with the fairy.


    ¡°Well, check again.¡±


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°And?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. I can¡¯t find anything related to dragons at a- ¡­¡± Thomas trailed off.


    ¡°Let me guess, it was buried under a bunch of other patterns?¡± Elias asked dryly.


    ¡°No ¡­ I just found its powers ¡­¡±


    Thomas almost never looked at the collection of powers he¡¯d amassed, both by creating them, or finding new ones in the bodies of slain foes.


    Passive enhancements, as well as most active powers, he just made himself by exaggerating an existing biological power or physiological function, rather than digging through his collected powers.


    And as for active powers taken from his enemies, if they were strong, they tended to also be memorable.


    But when his desperately looking for his dragon pattern activated a search function he hadn¡¯t even known existed, it showed him three powers, along with their names.


    Floral Mimicry, Draconic Physiology, and Verdant Spiritflame.


    That first one in particular was weird. It had clearly belonged to the dragon, but why would it want to mimic plants? And when had it even used that power?


    But looking into the power itself revealed that it wasn¡¯t about mimicking plants, it was about plants mimicking something else. Like a dragon.


    A power that let a bunch of plant matter function as an animal, while retaining some of the durability and redundancy of its floral components.


    Then, Draconic Physiology kicked in. Normally, magical creatures had an F-Rank power that would allow them to function normally even when their physiology flew in the face of all laws of physics and biology. But layered atop the previous ability, it turned a few random plants into an actual dragon.


    And Verdant Spiritflame added some proper offensive power to everything else.


    Wait a second ¡­ there was the body. In the ¡°material patterns¡± section. Basically, it was a bush cut into the shape of a dragon like some fancy decorative planter. Nice to look at, but not something he could use. Even when he summoned it, it manifested as a planter, without even giving him the option of adding the powers that would have allowed it to function.


    ¡°What the fuck? Come on!¡± Thomas yelled, startling Elias, who¡¯d just taken his position on the roof, atop a little recliner he¡¯d fashioned himself from napkins and popsicle sticks last week. The contraption crumpled beneath him as the fairy took to the sky with a panicked leap.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do that!¡± he growled, dropping back onto the roof, then, in a far more normal voice, asked, ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°That dragon wasn¡¯t a dragon, it was just ¡­ walking compost with powers that let it pretend to be a dragon!¡± Thomas told him, anger and frustration boiling out of him.


    But Elias didn¡¯t seem to share those feelings. Thomas wasn¡¯t the best at reading expressions, he¡¯d be the first to admit that, however, he was pretty sure the fairy was currently torn between elation, worry, and confusion.


    ¡°That ¡­ that¡¯s not good. Do you know how dragons, real dragons, work?¡±


    ¡°How the hell would I?¡± Thomas snapped. ¡°You¡¯re the magical expert here!¡±


    He immediately regretted his tone. Admittedly, there were a lot of good reasons to be mad at Elias, his initial behavior first among them, but this right now was not something that should be taken out on the fairy.


    ¡°Remember when I told you that you can¡¯t cut off your core from the world because as a Dungeon, your magic is all about challenge, so you can¡¯t build defenses that are impossible to overcome? Most highly magical species are like that. Phoenixes are all about the concept of recreation, with their energy constantly seeking to recreate them if they¡¯re hurt, annihilating the environment in the process. A phoenix coming back to life is ¡­ more violent than you¡¯d think.


    ¡°Or take Jotuns, for example. Their magic is linked to the concept of winter, and freezes everything. Similar thing for the Sons of Muspel, but their magic is the essence of destruction and they destroy everything around them without them even being able reign it in.


    ¡°And a dragon¡¯s magical energy is aligned with domination, and holds some kind of elemental bend. It bleeds out into the world and starts to warp it to suit the dragon itself, befitting their element and personality.


    ¡°Dragons related to fire will create volcanoes and subconciously guide the flow of lava, water dragons turn the ground into a swamp that will eventually become a lake or even an ocean, and so on.¡±


    ¡°That dragon puppet was made from wood and still used fire, though. Does Alaxia have two elements?¡± Thomas pointed out.


    Elias just shook his head with a soft chuckle. ¡°Creatures this magical are weird. General fire breath is partially a part of their physiology, and part of their starter power, they need their Draconic Physiology power to survive having the physiological component. If they weren¡¯t born at E-Rank, with both powers fully active, they¡¯d literally explode the moment they hatched.


    ¡°And since they¡¯re E-Rank, they¡¯re also born with their environmental power, which grants them their specific element, but the power can be changed by their personality. If they want an extra breath attack later on, or change their original one, they can pick a power later on.¡±


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    Thomas was starting to see the writing on the wall now.


    ¡°Let me guess, Empress Alaxia is a forest dragon of the opinion that no one else can do the job right, so she creates extensions of herself?¡± he suggested.


    ¡°Exactly. But the fact that she sent an extension to negotiate means ¡­¡± Elias began to say, but Thomas interrupted him.


    ¡°Shut up for a second, I had an idea!¡±


    ¡°But ¡­¡±


    ¡°Is it going to kill me if I take five minutes to try something?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°No, but I¡¯m interrupting you in five minutes, even if you aren¡¯t done,¡± Elias promised, using one of the velociraptors Thomas had scattered around his core room as his new lawnchair.


    The thing that had caused Thomas to suddenly get sidetracked was simple. Draconic Physiology was one of those powers that could tell the laws of physics to take a hike when it came to certain features that really shouldn¡¯t work in the real world. Like a dragon being able to fly despite being a solid slab of muscle, far denser than birds and other flying critters. And it came with partial fire-breathing capability.


    He might not have gotten an actual dragon pattern, but maybe, just maybe, he¡¯d gotten something almost as powerful, the ability to transform some of his creatures into draconic hybrids.


    His first ¡°victim¡± was the standard velociraptor pattern. He¡¯d upgraded it into the cute, cuddly, avatar version and then immediately gone ahead and brought the original pattern to the cusp of F-Rank, waiting for him to come up with something suitably cool.


    It felt like it should have been a grand moment, something to be announced by trumpets, with a herald loudly spreading the news of this supreme achievement, but it didn¡¯t.


    Thomas had the pattern in his mind¡¯s eye, added the power of the dragon, and immediately spawned it in.


    Oh, and it was glorious. No bigger than a regular raptor, but it looked far more impressive. It still had feathers, including the large, sweeping, winglike displays on both arms, but there were far fewer. Its snout was covered in heavy, dark emerald scales that could probably turn aside a blade, with fangs of gleaming ivory glinting between them. A row of spikes sat upon the spine, with heavy armor lining either side of it, tapering along the tail until the very end, which was tipped with a wicked onyx spike ¡­ no, it was black, but onyx wasn¡¯t the correct term. More like ¡­ ebony.


    Yeah, deep, dark, ebony wood. Claws on both fingertips and toes had shifted to be made up of the same color, with the near-legendary ¡°sickle-claws¡± having become even darker, jet-black voids in existence that seemed to epitomize the term ¡°deadly¡±.


    A simple twitch of muscles pulled it down, causing the claw to click against the ground, bouncing with a sharp report, leaving a large gouge in the heavily reinforced rock of the Dungeon.


    With a startled squawk, the raptor leaped away, somehow landing a full three meters away.


    Wait a second ¡­ Thomas had it jump again, arms spread wide. Yep, that was a decidedly unnatural arc, the creature was gliding through the air in a way that its feathered arms should have been nowhere near big enough to allow. And yet, that was what was happening.


    Elias had said that these powers made physical features work where the laws of physics dictated they really shouldn¡¯t, so perhaps a ¡°flying squirrel velociraptor¡± wasn¡¯t too out there?


    Either way, it was cool.


    And as for the other feature ¡­ yeah, he had fire-breathing velociraptors!


    Granted, the gout of flame that spewed from the raptor¡¯s mouth when he gave the order was less ¡°flamethrower¡± and more ¡°hairspray and lighter¡±, but it was still fire breath. Not to mention that it had come part and parcel with hefty physical reinforcement as well as pseudo-flight power.


    And he could always tac on the dragon¡¯s Verdant Spiritflame at a later rank, or create something even more suitable, but for now, this would be awesome!


    Thomas spawned in a couple more raptors and had them run around the core room, playing with their gliding and fire breath, while experimenting with their other physical changes. Mainly, fangs and claws had gained quite a lot of durability and sharpness, capable of scratching up even the ludicrously durable Dungeon floor, though the new, oversized, scales were nothing to sneeze at either.


    Presumably, they¡¯d not be entirely bulletproof, but still tough enough that instead of instantly penetrating, the bullet would encounter sufficient resistance that it would throw back the raptor.


    And while most delvers would not run around wearing particularly flammable apparel, they wouldn¡¯t be wearing firefighter gear either. So even if the fire breath was nowhere close to what the dragon had shown, it should suffice to ignite clothing.


    In other words, these ¡°Physiology¡± powers were almost on par with the physical enhancements Thomas gave his champions. However, using them didn¡¯t grant him the same flexibility as the champion power, he couldn¡¯t customize them, he¡¯d have to use what he got. And using powers instead of the champion upgrade would, of course, cost him a power slot, unlike the upgrade. Overall, Thomas preferred the upgrade over the power, but this power could be used far more often.


    And using it as a base for further upgrading, he should be able to create incredible creatures. What about some variant of the spitting cobra using flammable liquid instead of venom to douse targets, then igniting them with the dragon-raptors? Or perhaps a fire-related power to supercharge the flame breath, which could possibly pull double-duty to allow for its wielder to detonate itself? The raptors were small, fast, and could all but fly. Throw in a power that turned them into bombs and they¡¯d be lethal beyond measure.


    Or perhaps ¡­


    His train of thought was interrupted by Elias rapping his knuckles on Thomas¡¯ core.


    ¡°You had your five minutes, now you¡¯re listening to me,¡± the fairy demanded.


    ¡°Fine, a promise is a promise,¡± Thomas sighed, still partially daydreaming. Draconic hybrids were so cool ¡­


    ¡°Alaxia Mystscale might be a tyrant, but she¡¯s not stupid. She knows better than to send a projection to negotiate.¡±


    Elias paused after that, making it very obvious he expected some form of reply.


    After a few seconds of waiting, Thomas finally decided to ask.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°You saw how that thing acted, right? It went from ¡¯take your time¡¯ to ¡®submit or die¡¯ in minutes. Those things are the opposite of diplomatic at the best of times, and that thing wasn¡¯t even strong enough to pull the old ¡®might makes right¡¯ card. She was at the early S-Rank before her ¡®death¡¯, her minions should have been mid A-Rank at the very least. But this one wasn¡¯t. Alaxia Mystscale, empress of all Wyrmroost and self-proclaimed ruler of all dragons, ¡®died¡¯ and showed up on a random world via a stupidly weak proxy. Do you know what that means?¡±


    ¡°Well, no, but if you don¡¯t cut out the arrogant shithead act, I¡¯m not responsible for what unspeakable substances you get drenched in,¡± Thomas told him in his most ¡°innocent¡± tone. He probably deserved a little snark for interrupting Elias earlier, but this much? Nah, a few friendly threats were appropriate here, he felt.


    ¡°There are artifacts that can give you a second life, she used one, and now, she¡¯s stuck here without any support except whatever she can create with her mana manipulation mastery,¡± Elias explained.


    ¡°Like ¡­ like a teleporter that snatches you away as you¡¯re dying?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°No, that would be too obvious. Devices like that exist, but they¡¯re kinda ¡­ limited. They can be blocked or traced, stuff like that. I¡¯m talking about something that would literally grab your soul before it reached the afterlife and created a new body. It¡¯ll take you years to reach your previous power after using it, but considering that you¡¯d have literally dodged death it should be worth it, right?¡± Elias corrected.


    ¡°But how long would it take for her to regain enough power that no one on Earth can beat her anymore?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°Few months, maybe?¡± Elias shrugged. ¡°We should warn our visitors the next time they show up. Actually, can you send an emergency signal with that fire of yours?¡±


    Thomas sighed. ¡°I¡¯m already sending the most urgent signal in existence.¡±


    ¡°Then send a proper message? Shouldn¡¯t something like ¡®God-like dragon around, send help¡¯ get us a response?¡± Elias suggested.


    ¡°I only know the one signal, sorry,¡± Thomas told him. ¡°But the moment any human shows up, I¡¯ll bribe them with a mountain of precious gems to carry the message if I have to.¡±


    ¡°What a bloody mess,¡± Elias sighed. ¡°But you did hit D-Rank, right? What did you get?¡±


    Oh, right, he¡¯d almost completely forgotten about that! Thomas rubbed his metaphorical hands while diving straight into the deepest recesses of his core, where the gains should be the most obvious.

 Chapter 42: Rankup

    The deepest part of a being¡¯s magical core was normally meant to be filled with a swirling mess of orbs of power, one for each rank, with the more simple components of one¡¯s power flowing through the space in between.


    ¡°Stats¡± for humans using a System, the various ways to allocate their power displayed as swirls of energy, a cultivator¡¯s sea of energy, a mage¡¯s mana reserves, and the like.


    But like Elias had already said, innately supernatural species were more than a little weird. Dragons started at E-Rank with powers that warped the world around them, with abilities that would literally tear them apart from the inside if their innate power didn¡¯t allow them to tell the laws of physics where to shove it.


    And Dungeons started with all of their powers frontloaded, the matter deletion and creation, the gift of life, the ability to guide the evolution of species and the creation of new ones wholesale. All they got was enhancements on their starting powers.


    Increased fidelity when shaping.


    More champions.


    A higher minion rank and number cap.


    And so on.


    A Dungeon¡¯s innermost core was simply an ever-growing sphere of power, akin to a Russian nesting doll, with each rank adding another layer to the surroundings. A mere expansion of what he already had.


    At D-Rank, that meant the ability to somewhat hybridize materials and creatures, allowing him to add simple and purely biological extra powers. But only ones that were already found in other creatures.


    Venom glands. Thick skin. More damaging fangs. Anything his inner Dr. Frankenstein felt appropriate ¡­ except that any of that experimentation would not have any of the automatic adjustments that champion creation would bring with it.He could easily create abominations he¡¯d have to mercy kill immediately afterward.


    And he¡¯d get some more control over his matter creation, enough to write as long as the font was large enough.


    However, what Thomas saw in his innermost being was more than just that.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


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    System initializing, displaying status


    Applying appropriate subtype, Museum


    ¡­ error, Dungeon Subtype: Museum not found.


    Restarting ¡­ Assimilating alternate Data source ¡­


    External System Data integrated ¡­


    Dungeon Subtype: Museum not found.


    Restarting ¡­ Museum Definition found.


    Creation Dungeon Subtype: Museum ¡­


    Checking historical data ¡­ Dungeon Classification as per Dretolara System: Slaughterhouse


    Slaughterhouse Definition incompatible with word definition ¡°Museum¡±


    Dungeon Classification as per Wyrmroost System: Wildlife Management


    Wyrmroost System Definition incompatible with word definition ¡°Museum¡±


    ¡­


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    It continued on like that for a while, as the System kept trying to define him via his past actions using other Systems ¡­ or were they even separate entities anymore, or a singular System comprised of many other versions?


    And was the fact that one of the Systems belonged to Elias¡¯ homeworld a coincidence, due to the fact that he was here, or did it mean that one of the magical areas that had supposedly been transplanted onto Earth?


    Also, why was the home of Alaxia Mystscale second in line?


    Coincidence? Shmaybe. Something possibly worth looking into, but low on the priority list. After all, the order the System put something didn¡¯t necessarily have that deep of a meaning behind it.


    Either way, at the very bottom of that list, he finally saw something that made sense.


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    System cycles without Resolution/Advancement ¡­ excessive.


    Resetting process.


    Ex-nihilo creation of Dungeon Subtype: Museum commencing.


    Museum: Place of Learning


    Dungeon: Place of Advancement through combat.


    Proposed Subtype Purpose: Education Integration into standard Dungeon Practices ¡­ accepted.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Museum Subtype Dungeon singular existence.


    Value of Education ¡­ incalculable.


    Implementing Solution: Subcore Creation


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    So, that seemed nice. Though Thomas was very glad to see that it was also providing him with an explanation.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


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    <td valign="top">


    Dungeon Core (Museum Subtype), you have gained new abilities beyond the normal capabilities of a standard Dungeon Core. Therefore, you will receive an explanation.


    Your Arcane Signature has gained the additional type of ¡°Education¡±. As such, you will gain a small measure of advancement by educating delvers.


    (Note: ¡°Education¡± is a less potent magic type than ¡°Challenge¡±, and will therefore give lesser rewards)


    You have gained the power of ¡°Subcore Creation¡±. This is a unique ability granted to the only Museum Dungeon in existence to grant access to ¡°Education¡± to as many people as possible. It may only be placed within a Museum.


    Once placed, a Subcore will gain the ability to generate minions from the exhibits, should they not already be suitable for minion creation (i.e. stuffed animals). Each Subcore will have a Command Authority and Mana Pool equal to half that of Main Core.


    The Main Core will gain the Subcore¡¯s patterns, but Subcores will not have access to Main Core patterns.


    Each Subcore must be emplaced via a Champion. Once a Subcore has been placed in a given location, it cannot be moved, and should it be destroyed, cannot be recreated.


    You currently have 1 Subcore to place.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Well, wasn¡¯t that something?


    Sure, the new ability to gain energy was worse than his existing paths of growth, weaker, but it should be far more constant.


    And Subcore Creation ¡­ awesome. Beyond awesome. And he had just the place to target. Once he figured out how to get a creature that far from his core while keeping control over it.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


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    Dungeon Core (Museum Subtype), you have reached D-Rank and gained increased fidelity with your matter and minion creation, which includes the ability to fuse patterns.


    View detailed explanation?


    Y/N


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Thomas did look at that explanation, but it was literally the stuff that Elias had already told him about.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    System has registered you as Dungeon Core (Museum Subtype), created appropriate abilities, and stabilized with regards to you. You may now view your Status Screen whenever you wish.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Hell to the yes. Finally!


    He pulled up the screen immediately.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


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    <td valign="top">


    Name: Thomas Stettin


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Species: Dungeon Core (Museum Subtype)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    D-Rank (0% progression to C-Rank, see ability list?)


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Mana: 330/500 -> 1,000


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Creature Patterns: 27 (1,162 unused, see list?)


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Command Limit: 489/500 -> 750


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Material Patterns: 1,742 - 100,000, depending on definition (see list?)


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Champions: 2/3 (Cheshire, Dexter)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Subcores: 0/1


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Educational Exhibit Requirement: Barely Met


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    So, the Education part wasn¡¯t optional. That was his first takeaway, and he wasn¡¯t exactly happy about that, but thankfully, he was in a building that had been a Museum before, and he hadn¡¯t messed with the exhibits where it hadn¡¯t been necessary. He could just add a few extras, plus some fancy decorative stuff when he felt inspired.


    Fusing two living organisms would be tricky, but combining the concept of a taxidermied animal with a monster pattern to create a stuffed whatever-the-hell he-wanted should be a piece of cake.


    And with increased control over the particulars of manifestation, those stuffed monsters would become part of elaborate scenes, encased in heavy transparent material to prevent looting or collateral damage. Diamond should be viable. Make the walls out of those exhibits and presto, they¡¯d gain the durability boost that all walls got.


    However, that would be a vanity project for later.


    Right now, he needed to prepare for a conflict with an effectively infinite number of dragons.


    That meant reconfiguring his Dungeon and adding some more nasty surprises.


    And he should probably contact the authorities to warn them about the empress and ask them for help finding her. Defeating her may or may not be within his capabilities, but for him to do anything, she¡¯d have to attack him directly. Dungeons, though powerful, were not particularly suited to fighting wars of aggression.


    Projecting power beyond the bounds of these walls was also a requirement for being able to do anything with his subcores. Well, subcore, singular, for now, but he¡¯d have to figure this out at some point.


    Sending creatures just outside the museum worked just fine, he just wouldn¡¯t get any rewards when they killed something, and he wouldn¡¯t necessarily be able to stop them from doing something contrary to his interests. For example, if a human decided to piss off a monster, he might not be able to prevent said human from being shredded.


    And the further they went, the worse his control got, until it eventually failed entirely, a few hundred meters out.


    Eventually, he decided to just ask.


    ¡°Hey, Elias, how do I send creatures out of the Dungeon while keeping proper control over them?¡±


    ¡°Give your champions the Dungeon Relay power. It¡¯s an enhanced version of the regular Avatar power, but can only be added to champions,¡± the fairy mentioned off-handedly.


    It was that simple, now was it?


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me that?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°I thought I did.¡±


    ¡°Just make sure you think really hard about every piece of information that I might be able to use, and consider whether or not you already told me, ok?¡± Thomas sighed.


    Unfortunately, it seemed he wasn¡¯t a good enough actor to pretend to have forgiven the fairy and have it be accepted. By the time the capuchin with the cup of ice water was within striking distance, Elias had already fled to the roof.


    All that being said, though, Thomas wasn¡¯t sure he would have given that Dungeon Relay power to one of his existing champions even if he had known it was a possibility. Or at least, he shouldn¡¯t have.


    Cheshire, the Apex Sabertooth would not have been anywhere near as deadly without both her abilities, her claws and speed might have been good separate, but were absurd when combined.


    And Dexter, the Juggernaut Sloth likewise drew his power from a combination of powers. Rubber physiology for reach, and personal mass manipulation for enhanced impacts.


    Would he even still be here without them as they were?


    No, his ¡°ambassador¡± would be his new champion, the one he¡¯d unlocked upon hitting D-Rank.


    ¡­ Which he¡¯d choose once he¡¯d basically rebuilt his defenses from the ground up.

 Chapter 43: Watery Hell

    The anti-dragon redesign of his defenses wound up coming out rather simplistic.


    Vines became a more common design element, covering a lot of ceilings, designed to be easy to break free via the boomslangs¡¯ vine control ability.


    Dragons might be too tough for almost any nets he could create, but the goal of the vine-nets wasn¡¯t to entangle them, not at first. They were simply meant to fall on them and wrap around a part of their body, any part. Horn, leg, wing, whatever. Not enough to really trouble the invader, just enough to stay stuck.


    And from there, the snakes along for the ride would expand the vines from there, first completely surrounding the dragon and finally expanding the vines from there to start restricting it, biting the creature all the while. Until eventually, the dragon would either be wrapped up in a massive ball of foliage, barely able to move, or it would be forced to burn off the net.


    Except that the invading dragons would be plant matter masquerading as dragon flesh, therefore being more vulnerable to fire than they otherwise might have been. Once enough plant matter got on them, they¡¯d be checkmated.


    There was also simply a massive number of extra creatures at his disposal.


    His Command Limit no longer equaled ¡°as many creatures at your Rank as you can summon at once with your mana pool¡±, but there was a different gain. Creatures below his rank had half the impact on his command limit, so while the raw points at his disposal had only increased by fifty percent, the number of E-Rank creatures he could use had tripled.


    So, more defenders was the obvious addition.


    And finally, his T-rex pattern was also upgraded to E-Rank with Draconic Physiology. Fire power to use against plant creatures, fire resistance to be somewhat protected from breath attacks, and one more fringe benefit. Arms.


    The short limbs of the Tyrannosaurus were the subject of much controversy, tiny arms often meemed about. Thomas was only vaguely aware of some theories that these limbs served a small function to help pin prey when the dinosaur was looming over a target.


    Either way, that issue was removed.


    Massive, three-clawed arms hung from the new T-rex¡¯s torso, long enough to reach the tip of its nose and muscular to the point where they could probably punch through solid rock even without E-Rank stats.


    In the wild, they likely hadn¡¯t developed these limbs since they already had massive food requirements due to their size and worked perfectly well as they were.


    But in the Dungeon, where Thomas needed fighting machines?


    His new draconic tyrants were exactly what he needed.


    So, a few more of those in his Dungeon.


    Furthermore, he decided to burrow his core room deeper, enough to create two more rooms between the hall of three giant sloths under Mammal Hall and his core room, putting him into what would have been called ¡°basement level four¡± in a regular building.


    Possibly even enough to survive a nuclear strike, as long as it wasn¡¯t dropped right on top of him.


    Hell, even then, he might survive. The museum would definitely come down on top of him, but shockwaves went the path of least resistance, which would mean sweeping away everything to the side of the blast, rather than focusing on traveling deeper into the ground.


    Was there such a thing as a bunker-buster nuke? A missile meant to punch deep into the ground before detonating ¡­ yeah, Thomas burrowed just a little deeper, until he was at level negative 8.


    This had the dual benefits of insulating him from any messes that occurred upstairs and ensuring that he had rooms far enough from invaders that he could populate them even while he was being invaded.


    He¡¯d properly fill them later, for now, a whole bunch of seriously dangerous creatures should be enough.


    In the meanwhile, he had other fish to fry.


    The geology section.


    Finally.


    To start with, he started messing with the stairs that lead to the second floor, through the hollow, spherical, sculpture.


    He wound up removing the stairs entirely, and creating new ones, that wound through the room, even transitioning into a flat walkway in places, until it finally threaded through the sculpture and proceeded to the second floor.


    A pointless delaying tactic ¡­ until he added a whole bunch of vines. And then, filled them with snakes.


    With that done, he moved on to designing the second floor.


    That was when things got mean.


    His idea?


    A narrow maze of pathways led over a pool with a hippo in it. Already dangerous, but not exceedingly so, since it couldn¡¯t launch itself out the way, say, a crocodile could. You needed to end up in the water to be in any danger. And even if you did somehow wind up inside, you¡¯d still have a chance to get out.


    Unless you hurt the hippo. If that happened you. Were. Screwed.


    After all, these things bled the blood of a Tatzelwyrm, a dragon so toxic that even radioactive waste looked harmless by comparison.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Essentially, the first time you wound up in the water, you¡¯d be fine if you managed to get away from the hippo. But if you wounded it during your escape, the water would start to turn toxic.


    The same went for killing the hippo from outside the water. Assuming you even managed it, considering how thoroughly water fouled the trajectory of bullets fired into it while also slowing them down immensely.


    There were ways around the mess, like luring the hippo over into one corner while someone crossed, and once someone was on the other side, they could do the luring, to make sure that the hippo was elsewhere if someone fell down.


    At the end of the day, though, this was just a few beams the width of a human hand leading across the water. A normal human could walk across those just fine, let alone a supernaturally empowered superhuman. Right now, the only complicating factor was nerves, which the delvers may or may not be suffering from.


    What about something to knock them off, projectiles, maybe?


    Not to mention that there were a few other tricks he could pull off with that. Namely, he had an idea for what he wanted his next champion to be, one he could send out and use as an ambassador with the humans as well.


    And when creating a champion, he didn¡¯t just want a good, solid, suitable species, but also a particularly outstanding variant of that species.


    So, spider monkeys with a solid supply of rocks?


    Nah, that seemed too simple.


    A narrow path across the water just screamed to be filled with something that could leap out to snap at unwary delvers.


    What about ¡­ oh, yes, dwarf crocodiles. They were only around one and a half meters long and he had the pattern.


    How about making this a game, then?


    His new concept scraped most of the original idea, but he was far happier with it.


    A murky water pit, with a couple of hippos and a bunch of crocodiles inside.


    The only way across, two metal gantries, each only twenty centimeters across. And water from the pit would also slosh quite a ways on either end of the gantries. There¡¯d be a grate to keep the crocodiles in, however, because the main point would be to expose people to the water no matter what.


    Delvers would have to make their way across, defending themselves from the crocodiles, yet if they hurt a hippo, not only would falling in be dangerous as hell, but should the injured creature bleed enough, even stepping into the water would be dangerous.


    And to make it more ¡°fun¡±, Thomas made two entire corridors just like that, half the second floor, with five consecutive pools inside, each with varying ratios of hippos to crocs.


    There was just one small issue. If the hippo poisoned the water, it¡¯d kill the crocs as well.


    A toxin immunity would be easy enough to create. But it was too simple.


    Another option would be to give the hippo power to the crocodiles, but that would cost him the little ¡°game¡± of only killing the crocodiles.


    He wound up searching through his collected powers and finding something. The ability to absorb toxins and convert them to a temporary power boost.


    Thomas sighed. He really should have searched that thing before. His earlier attitude of ¡°if it¡¯s useful, I would have seen it used and know about it¡± clearly had some issues.


    But he still had an extra problem. He¡¯d never used the crocodile pattern, and it would need to be F-Rank for him to give it a power.


    Thomas sighed, and doubled the number of crocodiles in the pools. For now, they¡¯d only serve to knock people into the water.


    Finally, he made sure to carve a channel from the water pools to the seventh sub-level. It would normally be sealed, but he could open them at will.


    He¡¯d once seen a car be crushed by four tons of water getting dumped out of an excavator¡¯s shovel, four meters up.


    This would be over a thousand tons, starting its journey almost a hundred meters above its destination. And even if an invader was tough enough to tank that kind of blow, would they be able to stop themselves from being pushed around, straight into a wall of spikes?


    In other words, this would be the ultimate sucker punch to obliterate unsuspecting invaders.


    And as for the monkeys he hadn¡¯t wound up emplacing, he found a new place for them. Replacing the snakes in the main hall, while also adding a whole bunch of trees with nuts to be used as projectiles. Attacks from all directions, a near-infinite supply of projectiles, would make that place annoying, but not quite deadly enou- ¡­ oh, that was a good idea.


    Thomas just removed the railings on all stairs. Even before the monkeys reached F-Rank and gained powers, constant bombardment was liable to make invaders less aware of where they were putting their feet and falling off.


    And to make that actually dangerous, he added another pool to the ground and filled it with hippos.


    From there, he returned his attention to the second floor, beyond the pools and walkways.


    Honestly, he decided to just be lazy and turn that section into what the main hall used to be, vegetation and snakes. Doable if you were cautious, but carelessness would easily get you killed.


    From there, you kept going until you returned to the start, only separated from the stairs by a wall. There, delvers would head down to the first floor, but not by way of stairs or even a ladder. No, one would have to jump, into a pool ¡­ infested with sharks.


    Pajama catsharks, to be precise.


    They were not only adorable, named for their blue-striped hide, but tough as nails. They were only as long as an adult¡¯s arm, but had skin almost two millimeters thick and tough as all get out. Defenses of that degree were necessary, as they lived in coral reefs and often went through narrow passages which would rip an ordinary shark to shreds.


    In fact, trying to get through that skin with a scalpel would literally require one to repeatedly scrape away at a specific section, essentially sawing one¡¯s way through. And that was when operating on a shark, having it mostly out of the water.


    Trying to hurt one while swimming? That would be tough.


    There was also a very interesting fact about pajama catsharks, their defensive move of ¡°donuting¡±. When attacked by a larger predator, they¡¯d roll into a ball, biting their own tail, essentially turning into a donut, too large to swallow whole and due to their tough skin, almost impossible to devour piecemeal.


    Not to mention that once a delver got out of the initial landing zone, one would be swimming through a coral reef. Plenty of hiding places, sharp edges, and even a few whip corals. The latter weren¡¯t exactly dangerous, but stung like hell if they hit bare skin.


    Of course, the sharks would just be regular sharks for now, so Thomas added a pool to the roof too, for the wyvern to drop creatures into for the sharks to kill and level up with.


    This second water level would cover most of the first floor, until the final section, where Thomas lowered the ceiling for the last ten meters. That way, one would have to dive continuously, without being able to surface to breathe, finally emerging into a section he¡¯d modeled after an ancient temple, Indiana Jones style. Crumbling ancient stone and vines, with draconic raptors and a single dragon rex greeting any that arrived.


    He didn¡¯t want to waste any champions on that area, he needed them to be between him and invaders, but a mass of powerful monsters ready to greet delvers with a wave of fire as they emerged from holding their breath for quite a while ¡­ that should be enough.


    In the temple, they¡¯d also finally find the ladder needed to get back onto the second floor and leave, so once one dropped down, one needed to finish the section or else be trapped.


    Although ¡­ if someone were to surrender, he might be able to bargain with them.


    You know, ¡°I¡¯ll give you the ladder, you¡¯ll give me stuff¡±. Perhaps if he could get his hands on some magical contracts?


    He added a small island to the center of the first floor, and painted a sign on the wall that explained that the ladder would be provided at the end, but a bargain with Daedalus the Dungeon Architect would bring it earlier.


    Oh, this section would be nasty.


    Now if only there were people to go through it. Where was everyone? Hiding from Alaxia, just like most of the monsters out there?

 Chapter 44: Car vs Face

    There was nothing like letting oneself get hit by a car to make you question your life choices.


    But honestly, it was a little too late to worry about that right now.


    So Jaclyn held up her arms as though she were trying to block a punch instead of a one-ton block of metal hurtling at her, and threw herself back in a split second before impact.


    A pale-blue force field shimmered into existence above her skin, looking like it was covered in short, bristly, hairs. And then, the car slammed into her, shattering the energy field before hitting her, throwing her back until she landed on the side of the street, a dull ache throbbing in her forearms even as she rolled back onto her feet in a flash.


    She grinned, her smile showing teeth.


    It hadn¡¯t exactly been pleasant, but she¡¯d just walked off getting hit by a car moving at fifty miles an hour.


    So she waved at Granger to bring the car back around for another try.


    This was crazy, and decidedly not what the London Police Department¡¯s vehicular training circuit was meant to be used for, but it was a place that had access to a whole bunch of cars, mechanics for said cars, and open road where they wouldn¡¯t be disturbed.


    And she did have a new power to train.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Spirit Projection


    Your body may remain human, but your spirit is infused with the physical power of the Honey Badger and can now be projected outwards.


    You have unlocked the following projection types:


    Badger Fist (partially open fist -> badger claws projected from knuckles)


    Fur Shield (arm intercepts attack -> skin and fur approx. 6 inches above skin)


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Badger Fist essentially gave her spectral brass knuckles that let her tear through anything that wasn¡¯t outright armor with relative ease. But that one had been easy to figure out.


    Fur Shield, meanwhile, had only appeared after she¡¯d fallen down the stairs and caught herself with her forearm.


    The cool thing about Spirit Projection was how responsive it was.


    For example, she could either catch the full force of a blow on her forearms and only have force transferred to her body until the shield broke and the attack impacted her directly, or she could treat it like a part of her body, being affected by the force of a strike as though the projection were real, physical, armor.


    Or she could modulate her ¡°Badger Fist¡± to position the claws to be of better use for slashing or punching.


    And damage dealt to the projections would not affect her in the slightest, not unless she got hit with something that broke straight through and continued on to hit her directly. Like a freaking car.


    But she needed to learn to use this power properly, she knew she could easily handle a car crash, and repeatedly letting Granger run her over was a better training tool than jumping down the stairs again.


    And ¡­ she hadn¡¯t been able to get her hands on a wrecking ball, no matter who she¡¯d asked.


    So yeah, here she was, ¡°fist-fighting¡± a car.


    After a little experimentation, they even strapped a sandbag to the front of the car so she could practice counterattacking even while airborne.


    Things went well ¡­ until she somehow wound up underneath the car. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure which part snagged on her nose or what it did, but it must have been important, considering that when it tore free, the car started leaking oil and only managed to drive another thirty feet or so before dying. Yeah, that car was done for. But at least it had survived until ten minutes before they¡¯d had to leave anyway.


    Muttering swear words, Jaclyn frantically wiped at her eyes to get the disgusting liquid from her eyes.


    Bollocks!


    At least her resistance to toxins had reached the point of near-immunity when it came to the non-magical stuff, which meant that she wouldn¡¯t suffer any ill effects from this. But it was still the exact opposite of fun to have it in his eyes and some had even gotten up her nose.


    However, the worst part was that it took her almost two minutes to remember that she had magic that was more than applicable to the current situation.


    Upon increasing in Rank, one got the equivalent of a full Level-up¡¯s worth of points to each Stat, including magic. Jaclyn had decided to make full use of that.


    And she¡¯d settled on Utility Magic. It would not only be useful in life in general once she mastered it, but was also fantastic for surviving in the jungle, ranging from compass spells, to cleaning wounds and extracting clean water.


    But the main reason she¡¯d gone for it had been her accidental discovery of a synergy between Gula¡¯s access to potent contact poison and Jaclyn¡¯s near-immunity to said poison. If she had the ability to completely erase the toxin once she was done using it, she could use it to its fullest potential.


    And she practiced that magic religiously. Sure, it took her ten times as much to use magic to clean her coffee cup as it took her to wash it by hand, but it used to take her fifty times as long.


    Slowly, bit by bit, her sense of smell returned as the oil was scrubbed from her sinuses and her eyesight went from non-existent to blurry to clear.


    ¡°Mind if I write in the accident report that I ran over my boss?¡± Granger asked her, gesturing to the no longer running car.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do that,¡± Jaclyn sighed. She¡¯d have loved to be able to write a report like that when she¡¯d been his age and not get into trouble for it, but now, she was the boss in question.


    Sure, they¡¯d tell they guys at the motor pool what had happened, but eventually, that report would cross the desk of someone who didn¡¯t know the full story and then, there¡¯d be hell to pay because ¡°someone tried to kill their superior officer¡±. Cue the shitstorm.


    They wound up returning the car to the motor pool by Granger sitting at the wheel while Jaclyn pushed and checked her Status Sheet. And once the car was returned and she¡¯d dipped into the changing room to put on fresh clothing, they headed out to the street.


    She contemplated switching to her non-combat Skill set for a moment, then decided to stick with things as they were to keep Bullshit Radar active.


    Upon gaining E-Rank, she¡¯d gained the ability to switch equipped Skills every twelve hours, letting her have one set of six attached to her combat power, to be used when on shift, while a second set was for when she was off shift, where she¡¯d use them as much as she could.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Name: Jaclyn Abrams


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Race: Human


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Class: Anima Monk


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    E-Rank, Level 1 -> 3/20


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Class Abilities


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit Bond: Honey Badger (F-Rank)


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit Projection (E-Rank)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Statistics (0 points available)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Body: 70


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Magic: 5


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Mind: 55 -> 65


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit: 54 -> 64


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Skills


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Pugilism 21


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Fist of Indomitable Badger 25 -> 26


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Athletics 19 -> 22


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Situational Awareness 22


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Bullshit Radar 13 -> 17


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Martial Arts 23 -> 26


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Alternate Skill Set (currently inactive, switch available)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Mana Control 0 -> 5


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Utility Magic 0 -> 3


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Ballance 10 -> 12


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Breathing 5 -> 6


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Inspect 0 -> 1


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Movement 13-> 14


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    ***


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Inspect was the worst of her new Skills, and grew slowly, but eventually, she¡¯d likely be able to name people at a glance or even see the powers of both man and beast.


    Breathing was a simple Skill that everyone had in theory, though eventually, she¡¯d likely be able to gain all the oxygen she needed by inhaling normally even when running at her top speed. It should do wonders for her stamina.


    Movement was the same thing. Everyone had the Skill, and it would be useful, but neither was likely to be impactful enough to displace any of her ¡°main¡± six Skills.


    And Ballance was the exact same thing. Nice to have, and once she brought it into the realm of the supernatural, it would likely be insane, but not something she desperately needed. Especially when Martial Arts and Fist of the Indomitable Badger also had a minor balance component.


    Mana Control and Utility Magic were obvious, as they, together, was what let her use magic. And she¡¯d settled on full Utility Magic, as opposed to sticking with just a cleaning spell, as the Skill upgraded everything related to it.


    She could distractedly zap away dirt while doing paperwork, and she¡¯d simultaneously grow better at all spells in the category, including mending spells. And she¡¯d once seen Gula make a trashed car run through magic and sheer force of will. It wasn¡¯t the flashiest power, but it was one she felt far more likely to save her life than being able to cast a single fireball before her magic ran out.


    ¡°How are your studies going?¡± Jaclyn asked Granger.


    ¡°It¡¯s tough, but awesome,¡± he grinned at her. ¡°But I can¡¯t wait to get my Class and have six Skill slots to play with.¡±


    He was already a part of the same System she and the Orcs used, but only had two slots to fill with Skills that would grow at a vastly accelerated rate, which were currently occupied by Magic Knowledge and Mana Control, the latter of which he was training with an orcish children¡¯s toy that was useable without any points in Magic.


    The goal currently was to bring those two Skills to the point where they¡¯d influence Class creation.


    Most people had a ton of Skills between five and ten, which referred to things that they could do, but weren¡¯t quite good enough at to use as a means to make a living.


    Skills linked to a long-term profession or a hobby one had been doing for a while tended to be between ten and fifteen, and between fifteen and twenty, you¡¯d start to enter into the realm of world-class experts.


    Anything you got above would grow far slower but delve into the realm of the supernatural, actively bending reality in admittedly minor ways.


    And once you got Skills into the tens, they¡¯d start to influence Class creation, unless there were Skills that were far stronger.


    The only reason why Granger was expected to be able to create a Class in a reasonable amount of time was the fact that his highest Skills were related to learning and multitasking, with regular stuff like housework, cooking, or job related proficiencies being low enough to not mess with things.


    He produced a small stone with runes engraved on it.


    ¡°All someone has to do is pour magic inside and it¡¯ll heat up. I know it¡¯s just a magical handwarmer, but ¡­¡± he trailed off.


    ¡°But you made it, so its automatically the most awesome artifact in existence as far as you¡¯re concerned?¡± Jaclyn asked and he nodded.


    ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Do you know what kind of spells the Worldstrider Tribe can teach you?¡± Jaclyn asked. The orcs mostly used physical classes, just learning the occasional spell to not let the automatically gained magic go to waste.


    ¡°Fireball, Chain Lightning, Magic Missile, all the utility spells you¡¯re learning, and basic telekinesis.¡±


    Jaclyn thoughtfully tapped her chin. ¡°How hard is telekinesis to learn?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the hardest one,¡± he admitted.


    And there went any chance of her learning it anytime soon. She¡¯d been told that cleaning was one of the easiest spells, and she could barely cast it, let alone anything more complicated. She didn¡¯t have enough mana to use magic properly in combat, so the impact learning spells had on her capabilities was minimal compared to her gains.


    Granger glanced over at her with an expression that made it clear he had something he wanted to ask, but swiftly looked away with an almost guilty look on his face. As if he was afraid of her reaction. And it wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d thrown her that look since they¡¯d started talking about magic.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked. It might be private, in which case she¡¯d back off, but if he had concerns about the current situation, it would probably be for the best to air the dirty laundry.


    And if he was about to confess his eternal love to her, she¡¯d obviously regret pressing him like that, but she doubted that was it. He knew better than to say something like that. And if he were into her, she¡¯d have noticed, after all, she was a trained investigator.


    ¡°Can you make sure that I don¡¯t get turned into everyone¡¯s bitch once I learn magic?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to need some serious context here,¡± Jaclyn responded immediately. That could have meant a lot of things, and while she was pretty sure the most obvious meaning wasn¡¯t what he¡¯d meant, that didn¡¯t help much when it came to figuring out what he was talking about.


    ¡°I¡¯d be the only magic used in the department, the only one who can enchant stuff, who can fix enchantments, everything. And while the orcs could do most of that, most people are going to be more comfortable with another human ¡­¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re concerned about the hours, you¡¯re in the wrong line of work,¡± Jaclyn pointed out. ¡°As a police officer, the hours are terrible, and your job doesn¡¯t end when you clock out, all it takes is for someone to decide to do something stupid where you can see, make themselves a threat to others, and you¡¯d wind up having to do something.¡±


    She got what he meant, she really did, but depending on how attached he was to his free time, she¡¯d have to temper her expectations for him going forward.


    But Granger decided to regale her with a story.


    ¡°I went to school in one of those ¡®tech inclusive¡¯ schools that tried to use plenty of smart machinery, integrating it into lessons and ensuring that students learned to use all the stuff we needed for the information age,¡± Granger began in a tone that made her think he was partially quoting an infomercial. ¡°But the teachers sucked with technology. Think of your grandmother trying to get a brand new laptop to work, every teacher except the one who taught IT was basically that bad.


    ¡°Speaker systems for assemblies, cloud storage, maintenance for the school website, hell, even getting Power Point presentations to work in class was usually a major production. Anytime a teacher tried to use technology, that meant at least five minutes of not having to listen to them yammer on.¡±


    He laughed bitterly.


    ¡°There was exactly one teacher who could use technology, she taught IT, and had a whole afternoon program for tech aficionados, taught some kids how to make everything work, and then when it came time for assemblies, the kids would handle the tech side of things while the teachers sat around with their thumbs up their asses.


    ¡°Eventually, though, that teacher left the school, I don¡¯t know why, and her replacement stopped holding the afternoon program. One by one, the kids stopped helping with the tech or got transferred. Until there was just one guy handling all the IT problems, to the point where he just wouldn¡¯t come to class the day before a school event that used tech, and teachers would literally pull him out of class when they needed help. Why bother to learn to do stuff when they had someone to do it for them, why hire someone when it was being done for free, why change anything when the status quo worked? For them, I mean?


    ¡°And sure, the school eventually implemented a ¡®person of the year¡¯ award and gave it to him every year, but that was just recognition, it didn¡¯t do anything to help his situation. Until eventually, he burned out before he even graduated. I don¡¯t know what happened to him, but I know that I don¡¯t want to end up like that.¡±


    Now that, that was an understandable worry. Being a cop was hard work, with crap hours, and like she¡¯d told him, you could easily wind up being required to do something even if you were no longer on shift, but this was something entirely different. Being burdened to such a degree, that was something she¡¯d do her best to shield him from.


    ¡°Before it ever gets to the point where getting an hour of uninterrupted sleep is enough to make you cry with relief, I¡¯ll put my foot down. Or up someone¡¯s ass. Whatever¡¯s necessary,¡± Jaclyn finally promised after taking a few seconds to think of a good way to phrase her pledge.


    The corners of Granger¡¯s mouth twitched upwards at her statement.


    ¡°Thank you¡±.


    And a minute after that, they¡¯d reached the street and drove off towards the place of the meeting they¡¯d soon be attending.


    ***


    The British Government had been gutted by the jungle, and the remaining officials had been forced to relocate.


    Bristol had been selected as the new, and hopefully temporary, capital, due to its size and proximity to major military bases, as well as strong access to the world wide web, which allowed for a rapid flow of information.


    However, Bristol was quite aways away, and while relocating individual politicians and ministers could be done swiftly, moving an entire government was a tough and involved process.


    Therefore, the people and documents who weren¡¯t yet there had all but taken over Cambridge, which was also near several military bases and likewise had great internet.


    That was where she and Granger were going, to see the part of the government that remained nearby because someone had had a great idea. Or a terrible one.


    No, the idea itself was a good one, but there were oh so many ways to fuck it up.

 Chapter 45: The Most Efficient Government?

    Cambridge Campus was far different than Jaclyn had imagined. Sure, the architecture was there, buildings that had become the backdrop for much of the Harry Potter movies, the wide open fields of grass that any modern campus would doubtlessly have dismissed as a waste of space.


    But it was empty and felt desolate in a way that seriously put her hackles up. Her mental image of what a place like this was supposed to look like might have been heavily based on film and television, but even then, was this really what it was supposed to look like? Empty, with there being more security than students?


    So far, there had been no sign that the jungle or any of its weirdness was spreading, but that hadn¡¯t stopped that from being a concern. People were moving where they could, trying to gain distance from the zone where nothing made sense anymore. That alone was going to be a mess already, though admittedly, fewer people in London would probably make things easier for her and the others.


    Overall, the anomalous zone hadn¡¯t really directly affected anything outside itself, but indirectly? It had made quite a mess. One did not need a degree in economics to see a depression coming in with all the force and inevitability of a falling meteor.


    Hopefully, this meeting was in some way about addressing some of the other knock-on effects of the jungle¡¯s appearance, ones she was actually qualified to deal with.


    She¡¯d left Granger with the car, where he was currently fiddling with random pieces of metal to try and learn more magic. Ever so slowly, he was working his way up to real magic. According to both him and Gula, it was very safe to play around with magic sigils outside the transformed zone since there was no ambient magic that could power them. And apparently, doing any of this in the jungle could easily result in an explosion.


    Her assistant was mostly safe at the moment, unless he somehow managed to break the fundamental rules of magic.


    While she was going to a mysterious meeting. It was about ¡°the future of law enforcement¡±, but that didn¡¯t really say much.


    Who was even still around to hold the meeting? Most of the government had been lost in the initial change, and the same went for most of the police higher-ups. There was a reason Owens was running the entire city¡¯s law enforcement apparatus and left her dealing with the precinct¡¯s day-to-day when she wasn¡¯t out in the jungle.


    As for the government, the ministers for defense and agriculture were the highest officials still in play, but both of them were in Bristol, to the best of her knowledge. Certainly, she doubted any of the people responsible for their security would be particularly happy about their charges going anywhere near the jungle that had wiped out the rest of the government.


    But until an entirely new center of government had been set up, most people would be stuck at the university, taking advantage of the countless available conference rooms, nearby hotels, and solid internet connection to keep some semblance of government going.


    She left behind the old, traditional, parts of the university and entered one of the modern buildings. That was somewhat of a relief. While having a meeting in one of the fancier rooms would probably have been ¡°cool¡± to a certain extent, it wouldn¡¯t have seemed particularly professional to her. As though someone had chosen the room to impress her, rather than for its function. Ugly as utilitarian decor was, it also demonstrated a certain no-nonsense attitude.


    Now she just had to find the room ¡­


    ***


    Jaclyn found the conference room in question after half an hour of searching, asking several passersby, and silently vowing to murder whichever architect was responsible for creating a building this confusing.


    In the end, it was the heavier security presence that let her know where to go.


    ¡°Can I see some identification?¡± a mountain of a man wearing the stereotypical black suit of a government ¡°unobtrusive¡± guard asked her. He was currently standing in front of a door whose sign had been covered up by a simple printed page that simply said ¡°Rowan Frye¡±. At least now, she had a name.


    ¡°Inspector Jaclyn Abrams,¡± she introduced herself, slowly reaching into her pocket to withdraw her warrant card. Sure, they weren¡¯t quite as fancy as the badges that American cops used, being closer to a passport, but they were also more informative due to containing a picture and all necessary information to immediately establish one¡¯s credentials. Though she had to admit that, in private, she wouldn¡¯t have minded having a badge of solid metal to wave around.


    Most people, especially ones she met out on the street, barely glanced at a card, taking it at face value. But this guy looked it over carefully, likely comparing not only her name but also its specific spelling with a list on his phone, also making sure her picture matched and that she was supposed to be here in the first place.


    While he did that, Jaclyn returned the favor and scanned him. Her Inspect Skill was literally at Level 1, and she was half convinced that the System had given her that out of pity, but she did have it. And it could do some small, infinitesimal amount of work. Which it did, showing her that the man in front of her had no power, no stat boosts.


    She could, however, smell the gun oil on him, indicating that he was armed. Having an enhanced sense of smell could be annoying, even with how quickly she grew scent-blind to things she didn¡¯t want to smell, but it could also come in handy quite often. She¡¯d even dropped by one of the police dog training centers, gotten her hands on a list of what drugs and explosives could be detected by scent, and used the samples there to do her best to memorize them.


    Of course, she had no intention of competing with Fido for a job, but deploying a police dog took a frustrating amount of time. And she enjoyed getting creative with her powers.


    ¡°Thank you, Inspector,¡± the guard said and handed her back her warrant card.


    Then, he knocked on the door.


    ¡°Sir, Inspector Abrams is here. Do you have time?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Come in,¡± a voice called from inside, the guard opened the door and she entered.


    The first thing that struck her about the scene inside was how much it reminded her of Owens¡¯ office around thirty-six hours after the jungle had appeared, during peak-chaos. Initially, it had been a mess with calls flooding in and a desperate struggle to keep on top of things, but as things stabilized, he¡¯d actually gotten more work piled on as he became established as ¡°interim boss¡±.


    Only when everything had somewhat settled had he been in a position to start properly delegating.


    This office, however, was in the middle of peak ¡°tons of work, zero help¡±. Three phones, four computer screens, two additional desks covered in folders and loose papers. And two corkboards sat at one wall while a series of marker-covered whiteboards practically blocked out all light coming in from the windows.


    The man behind the main desk was probably around her age, possibly a handful of years younger, or maybe slightly older, though he had a lot more gray hair than she did. Her scalp might have had the occasional light streak, but almost a third of his head was gray. Genetics, or stress?


    He got up as she entered until he was standing in front of her, and introduced himself.


    ¡°Thank you for coming to meet me, Inspector Abrams. I¡¯m Rowan Frye, current head of an agency meant to deal with the supernatural.¡±


    ¡°Inspector Jaclyn Abrams,¡± she said, shaking the proffered hand. He already knew that, but an introduction was usually the correct response to someone else introducing themselves.


    ¡°Can I ask what this meeting is about?¡± she asked, glancing around at her surroundings. One board had what seemed like name ideas for the agency, though most of them had been crossed out with enough force to deform the head of the marker.


    Frye gestured towards one of the boards.


    ¡°Take a look. What do you think you bring to the table?¡±


    That statement could have many different meanings depending on tone, and Frye had made it obvious that he wasn¡¯t being dismissive, or lamenting her lack of understanding.


    A test, then.


    The board in question showed designs for, well, people desperately trying to punch above their weight class. A sketch of a person in riot gear, various pouches with labels like ¡°pepper spray¡± or ¡°large caliber handgun, armor-piercing bullets, make and model?¡± covering it.


    Next to it, there was what looked like a design for a custom handgun built to fire heavy slugs meant to hit like an elephant gun, without breaking the user¡¯s wrist. It was clearly unfinished.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Another design was for a vest meant to resist not bullets, but blades and blunt impacts, while also being resistant to heat, cold, corrosion, and repelling all manner of liquids. How that was meant to work wasn¡¯t entirely clear, there were more question marks than concrete statements, but the purpose of everything was obvious. Protecting the wearer from as many kinds of magic as possible.


    Finally, there was a mess of dots and arrows that looked like attempts at planning tactics, that had run straight into the issue of how many kinds of magic there were. Too hard to create concrete plans when there were literally hundreds of potential enemies that the plan would have to take into account.


    ¡°You need someone to play the red team while testing out gear and tactics,¡± Jaclyn suggested. ¡°I can do that, but I hope you understand I won¡¯t play the part of ¡®target¡¯ for those guns of yours.¡±


    Frye let out a surprised chuckle.


    ¡°That¡¯s actually a great idea, and I¡¯ll be taking you up on that offer, but I was mostly hoping to pick your brain about magic. And maybe poach you from the Metropolitan Police Service.¡±


    ¡°Poach me for the ¡­¡± Jaclyn trailed off, waiting for him to respond.


    Frye gestured at the list of names. ¡°We don¡¯t know yet. Any name needs to be approved, obviously, but we haven¡¯t really gotten anywhere. My favorite is ¡®Bureau for Supernatural Affairs¡¯, but I¡¯m quite not in a position to make that choice outright. I have to present some options.¡±


    Her eyes roamed across the list, zeroing in on a few of the crossed-out options.


    ¡°Association of the Awakened? I think someone¡¯s been reading too many Manhwas,¡± she observed.


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Frye asked.


    ¡°Comics from Korea, basically,¡± she said. ¡°People gaining powers and being governed by some kind of Association is pretty common in those stories.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re a fan?¡±


    By this point, Frye had his eyebrows raised to the point where they looked to be a few millimeters from outright crawling off his head.


    Jaclyn laughed and shook her head.


    ¡°I had someone look into stories about this kind of thing to see if we could head off any bad ideas someone might get from them,¡± she explained. ¡°If we were dealing with cosmic radiation granting powers, we¡¯d know exactly how people would react, but this is a bit more ¡­ niche.¡±


    ¡°Bold of you to assume that the world turning into a video game is gonna stop people from wanting to play superheroes,¡± Frye commented dryly before turning around and grabbing a few sheaths of paper from a desk.


    She looked them over when he handed them to her and to her surprise, they were, well, superhero costume designs. Flames, ice, and snow, electricity, a few jungle-themed ones, plants, a couple designed after animals ¡­ none were revealing or impractical the way many of the suits she saw on the covers of comic books were, but these were still superhero suits more suited to the silver screen than real life.


    ¡°We¡¯re not going to go with those, of course, but one of the design teams felt like it was a good idea.¡±


    ¡°Well, it¡¯d make for some good press,¡± Jaclyn pointed out, jerking her head in the direction of the completely practical design. ¡°You don¡¯t want to go with that outfit. People already don¡¯t like the police, but they only really see riot gear on the news when it¡¯s being used to beat down protestors.¡±


    Frye sucked in a breath between clenched teeth.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a perspective I could have used a week ago. By the way, do you think I could get that report of yours?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Jaclyn nodded, taking a mental note to ask for his email address later.


    Finally, Frye returned to his desk and gestured for her to sit on the chair there.


    ¡°Fundamentally, there are a few different ¡®Systems¡¯ currently affecting humanity. The one you¡¯re borrowing from the Worldstrider Tribe, there is a colony of intelligent manatees that can grant a set of powers meant for underwater exploration and combat, and rumor has it the American midwest can grant elemental powers if you can demonstrate that you¡¯ve ¡®mastered¡¯ that element in some way.


    ¡°We need a way to make sure the world does not go to pot as a result. You¡¯ve already seen the result of what happens when someone with magic decides they¡¯re above the law. An agency to handle the supernatural.¡±


    And Jaclyn had the scars to prove it. Two of them. One on her stomach, and the other on her back, with a direct line between them. The results of getting run through with a sword. The rest of the shallow cuts she¡¯d gotten during that fight had been healed away almost completely by magic, but that big injury had been too great to completely erase with the limited magic available.


    ¡°Define ¡®handle¡¯,¡± she asked. ¡°That can mean either actually enforcing the laws, or making sure that the public image of the supernatural stays intact while strong-arming people into government service behind the scenes.¡±


    ¡°The first one, definitely,¡± Frye immediately told her. ¡°At least once we have laws in place.¡±


    Oh yeah, that would take a while. Right now, they were just running off of ¡°morality¡±, making gut decisions for what and wasn¡¯t illegal, and using whatever existing laws even remotely fit the bill, but how long would it be until they encountered something that was beyond mundane legality?


    Ideally, the Venn Diagram of law and morality and law was a circle, but unfortunately, things didn¡¯t quite work like that.


    The difference between morality and law was that while most people had a decent picture of what they considered moral or not in their minds, the definition they gave for it could change from one moment to the next.


    For example, the statement ¡°hurting other people is wrong¡± could be countered by bringing up self-defense, the fact that surgery was literally assault with a deadly weapon, or someone would mention that BDSM was very much consensual. Which example someone gave also told you quite a bit about who they were as a person.


    And eventually, a group of people trying to achieve consensus on violence would settle on some variation of ¡°hurting people is usually wrong, but there are certain exceptions¡±. All over the course of a single conversation.


    But when something was written into law, that was the law until it was changed. And changes always took forever. A law that prohibited hurting others without the necessary exeptions would shut down ERs all over the country, land people in jail for defending themselves, and, well, render certain sexual practices illegal, though that last one wasn¡¯t exactly an issue. The first two, though, those would cause utter havoc.


    Sure, a reasonable person would want to implement exceptions like self-defense no matter what, but people in the legal system, judges in particular, couldn¡¯t just ignore laws, especially ones as straightforward and impossible to misinterpret as ¡°no hurting people¡±.


    Therefore, laws needed to be crafted with exceeding care, and creating a proper legal framework for anything surrounding powers would take forever.


    ¡°For example, I heard you managed to lock down that cultivator of yours and the lawyers kicked up a titanic stink. What exactly happened there?¡±


    ¡°Basically, Mr. Fields was told that he could either sign a magical contract that would make him extremely itchy if he attempted to use Qi or escape, disrupting his concentration, or he would be kept in a medically induced coma until a prison capable of holding him can be constructed.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing that went down like a house on fire?¡± Frye asked.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t there, but apparently, enough charges and exemptions for national security were thrown at the matter until the lawyer backed down.¡±


    Frye winced.


    ¡°We¡¯re working at a breakneck pace, but it¡¯ll take months before we¡¯ve got a basic framework done.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you got this much done already,¡± Jaclyn commented.


    ¡°One of the few benefits of most of the government having been wiped out,¡± Frye shrugged. ¡°As long as you know one or two reasonable people in charge, you can get a hell of a lot done with minimal red tape ¡­ until things get authoritarian, at least.¡±


    Now, it was Jaclyn¡¯s turn to wince. Sure, a small government could get a hell of a lot done in a crisis, but it also lacked many of the checks and balances that the regular government did.


    ¡°But it is what it is, and I¡¯m trying to get this agency set up before anything really bad happens.¡±


    They continued to bounce ideas back and forth, largely concerning legal ideas and operational strategies, until eventually, she asked an important question.


    ¡°If I were to join your agency, what would my role be?¡±


    ¡°Strike team leader,¡± Frye said.


    ¡°Strike team? That sounds aggressive,¡± Jaclyn noted.


    ¡°How many high-powered supernaturals are there going to be?¡± Frye asked. ¡°We¡¯re not going to be in a position to patrol the streets like regular police, we¡¯ll likely deploy when there¡¯s trouble from one of a handful of bases in the country. You¡¯d be responsible for training the people on these teams, and leading them into combat. We¡¯ll figure out something to make sure you¡¯re not stuck doing paperwork all day.¡±


    That was ¡­ that was a lot. She¡¯d known she¡¯d be in a position to get promoted in a few years, and she¡¯d been working as Owens¡¯ second in command for years, but this seemed like a massive step up. However, she immediately saw a big issue with the whole affair.


    ¡°Would I be the only one with powers on this team?¡±


    ¡°Ideally, no. We¡¯re trying to get a proper deal with the Worldstrider Tribe set up, and if all else fails, draw on the Systems the Americans can access. But for now, you¡¯re it.¡±


    Jaclyn tapped her chin. ¡°Would this agency have a research division? Because I know someone who¡¯d be perfect for a role like that.¡±


    ¡°If you have someone qualified, by all means,¡± Frye grinned at her. ¡°But if they¡¯re a researcher, it might be for the best to not put them in charge of it, so they don¡¯t get stuck with all the paperwork.¡±


    The conversation wandered once again until eventually, the guard outside opened the door to remind Frye that he had another meeting coming up.


    ¡°One last question,¡± he asked. ¡°What do you think of the security setup? If you had to fight your way in, for some reason?¡±


    Oh, that was a hard one. Was it a trick question, or just someone concerned for their personal safety taking precautions?


    Jaclyn decided to go for full honesty.


    ¡°Lacking. Very lacking. I¡¯m vulnerable to bullets the same way an African Elephant is. They hurt me, but unless they¡¯re incredibly powerful or I get shot a lot, I¡¯ll walk them off. You¡¯ve got a lot of security around the building, but I only got asked for identification right outside the door. At that point, there¡¯d be nothing stopping me from breaking in here and doing whatever I want until the guards at the ends of the corridor arrive.¡±


    Frye winced. Again.


    ¡°I¡¯ll ¡­ take that under advisement. And when it comes to building and designing this agency¡¯s headquarters, I¡¯ll definitely borrow you to try and break in. If you¡¯re not already working at the agency.¡±


    Jaclyn bade Frye goodbye and left, mind awhirl. She¡¯d spent most of her adult life as a cop and enjoyed the work. In fact, part of her had been dreading the possibility of a promotion and getting stuck in a purely paperwork-based job.


    This was a great opportunity in many ways. But in others, it represented an even greater change than even gaining her powers had been. She¡¯d really have to think about this.


    Eventually, she reached the car, and saw its insides utterly stuffed with loose papers, covered in weird scribbles.


    Yeah, Granger was probably a good choice for a researcher in the new agency, but she¡¯d have to make sure that his office was reinforced to the point of withstanding anything short of a nuclear blast. She could practically picture the scene already, him standing over a soot mark, nervously dry-washing his hands, looking like a kid caught doing something naughty.


    But as long as he could avoid blowing up himself or his lab, he could probably do great things.


    And until then, they¡¯d have to dip into the jungle occasionally to see how well his runes worked.


    Jungle operations had slowed down after that idiot intelligence agent had vanished, presumed to have been killed by some critter. But now, the military presence was enough that the powers that be felt comfortable pushing into the magic zone again.

 Chapter 46: A True General

    How did the saying go ¡­ if you pay in peanuts, you get monkeys?


    And Thomas wasn¡¯t paying his critters anything, so how could he be surprised that his new area was turning into a literal monkey house?


    These damn monkeys were a mess. Most of Thomas¡¯s creatures had some kind of aggressive instinct, being big animals ill-suited for retreating, who had to confront predators head-on. Hippos, giant sloths, sauropods, even the scolosaurus had some degree of built-in combat instinct.


    Spider monkeys ¡­ not so much.


    They were the kind of small and populous critters that died to predators en-masse, surviving not by being the fastest or strongest, but being faster than at least one other guy.


    He could force them to fight, but the sheer amount of effort required was tricky. The only other realistic way to get them to engage was to have them backed into a corner.


    Well, that wasn¡¯t quite accurate, they did fight, but they were very, very, bad at it.


    Should he switch to his other small monkey pattern? Capuchins were more aggressive as a general rule.


    However, the thing about Dungeon monsters was that even if they all came from the same pattern, they could have slight variations in personality. Perhaps he could find a specific monkey with a good personality and use him as a new baseline, ensuring that the variations were all based on a suitable being?


    But that would take time, and he had no idea how much. Or maybe they¡¯d become more aggressive naturally as they gained the power to defend themselves, but he wasn¡¯t holding his breath on that front.


    Which left Thomas with an annoying choice to make.


    Should he continue the search for a suitable Spider Monkey, or use what he already had?


    He already had Capuchins leveled to F-Rank, and the Dungeon Avatar power they possessed already should be upgraded to Dungeon Relay when he created a Capuchin champion, but they, as a species lacked something that practically defined Spider Monkeys as a species.


    Their tails, specifically, their prehensile function, which made them practically a fifth limb. They even had a hairless patch on the underside for an optimal grip.


    Capuchins were also smaller, making them less ideal even if they were better suited in terms of personality.


    But either way, he wanted a small monkey as his Champion Ambassador-slash-Subcore-Courier. For several reasons.


    First, a small critter originating from a jungle would be perfect for traversing the environment outside, and it wouldn¡¯t attract attention the same way a larger creature would.


    Second, since this creature would be his main connection to the outside, it needed to fit anywhere and everywhere he might need it. And unless a meeting was being held in an air duct or a similarly cramped space, a small primate would be able to fit.


    And the third reason was psychological. They were cute. And while Thomas was a big fan of cute critters, this time, that wasn¡¯t why ¡°cute¡± was important. But rather, the subconscious biases that afflicted humanity.


    An adorable creature would serve to lower people¡¯s guard, even when they were doing their hardest to keep their guard up. People thought that cute things were harmless, and would go to extreme lengths to pet them. All one needed to prove that was to look up some statistics on animal attacks.


    In addition, a monkey would be easy to lock away or ¡°contain¡±. A cat crate would do. Sure, a regular plastic box would require some hefty reinforcing, but either way, it would be easy for someone to lock down the monkey until they decided whether or not to accept it as an ambassador. Even better if they only thought that the monkey was contained.


    And on top of everything else, he could see if he could find some cute outfits for his monkey ambassador.


    But he was getting ahead of himself. First, he needed to get his monkeys to a reasonable level of power and do so soon.


    He gave it two days, and if he didn¡¯t get any visitors by then, he¡¯d make an ambassador and send it out, come hell or high water. How long he had before that dragon empress became too powerful to confront was up in the air, but he needed to reach out to and warn the authorities ASAP. Even if they weren¡¯t in a position to do the fighting for him, they should at least be able to help him lure her into his Dungeon.


    Thomas just had to keep waiting, keep the smoke signals up with increased power in the hope that it would convey the urgency of the situation, keep watching for what happened. Looking out across the jungle to look for incoming humans while having his wyverns carry any critters they found onto the roof of the museum for his monkeys to take down.


    And in the meanwhile, he kept himself busy, decorating his Dungeon, adding more foliage nets and pitfall traps.


    Until eventually, finally, the Spider Monkey pattern hit F-Rank and was immediately upgraded.


    Thomas had long since selected what power they would get. It was a simple one, with an equally simple name.


    Snatch.


    It allowed its bearer to teleport an object they could see, that they could easily lift with one hand, which was not restrained by another being, to their hands, essentially granting them infinite munitions as long as there was anything around. And this power would be perfect for stealing healing potions and the like. Teleporting things out of someone¡¯s hand was unlikely to work, but off their belt?


    Perfectly viable and potentially deadly, if he had them steal the right thing.


    And that just left one more question open. Would his creatures act the same now that they had a proper power?


    The original owner of this power had been another monkey, a small one, built for scavenging. In fact, that had been the original purpose of the power, stealing food guarded by others, snatching parts of bigger predators¡¯ kills, and so on.


    So would the combination of newly acquired strength and their creator¡¯s will turn them into worthwhile combatants, or would they remain as they had been, prey?


    Finding the answer to that question turned out to be a little trickier than expected due to the fact that there were barely any creatures worth hunting left.


    Alaxia¡¯s scout or even, potentially, scouts, had probably terrified most critters into submission, throw in the hunting his wyverns had been doing, there was just wasn¡¯t anything big and strong left. That he knew of.


    Thomas sighed, parcelled off a group of ten monkeys, and sent them out to go look for something to hunt. They wouldn¡¯t grow for kills outside, but they might at least be able to encounter something that the wyverns had missed, that they could cut their proverbial teeth on.


    And if they all died, well, the monkeys were cheap and he didn¡¯t seem to have any imminent incoming threats that he needed to keep defenders in place to deal with.


    Thomas continued to ride along one of the monkey¡¯s minds, watching what was happening from up close. Though unlike when he was doing this inside his Dungeon, he only had minimal control. He was merely along for the ride, as if he were in the world¡¯s most advanced 4D cinema, feeling every motion of the primate¡¯s body as the verdant foliage flew past.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He was no stranger to seeing the jungle, but that was from afar. Through the eyes of an avatar stationed at the door, the camarasaurus barely seeing the green through the door, or one of the rooftop sentries.


    Not from the ground amidst the trees. The canopy was glorious, beautiful, but the view from down there was downright terrifying. The way the sunlight was blocked out, darkening the entirety of this new world, the countless unknown sounds, the cries of unseen creatures, all of it would have been strange enough had this been his first foray into a regular jungle. But this was a supernatural hellhole, filled with creatures of unfathomable power and nightmarish temperaments. Even though he wasn¡¯t there in the flesh, it was still scary.


    Or maybe that was just the monkey his mind was riding along with. These were creatures of the canopies, using their four standard limbs and their tail to leap from branch to branch in ways that trapeze artists could only dream of. Being on the ground like that was utterly terrifying to them.


    But were there really no monsters around? Nothing that he could send the monkeys to face? Come on, there had to be something!


    The distance he could send his creatures beyond his domain had increased after hitting D-Rank, but not by so much that he could reach completely new areas.


    So he just kept sending out the group of critters in his best approximation of a search grid, hoping to run into something eventually.


    However, when it was finally time, he didn¡¯t see the monster. His first warning came when one of his monkeys just vanished, removed from his senses completely. The rearmost one.


    Thomas immediately sent this information to his monkeys, warning them, ordering them to prepare for combat, and releasing them from his direct control.


    The previously orderly formation exploded into chaos the instant his mental iron grasp let up, primates shooting every which way.


    Utter chaos, with none of them taking full advantage of their new powers. None of them except one.


    That particular monkey was nothing special, being a direct physical clone of the rest, but it seemed smarter.


    It wound up growling at the jungle cat, which was sitting down below with a spider monkey hanging from its jaws, then calling out to its fellow dungeon creatures with a weird hooting noise.


    So even while what Thomas could only describe as a hyper-jaguar began running up the side of the tree the monkey was perched on, all of his critters began to attack. Nuts, stones, the occasional small twig, all bounced off the big cat¡¯s face.


    Damn. They might have a power, but they didn¡¯t yet have the strength to land powerful impacts with their projectiles. Nor could they do much damage by straight-up dropping stuff.


    The issue with the latter in particular was terminal velocity, the technical term for the speed a falling object achieved when air resistance equaled the pull of gravity and acceleration ceased.


    It was a common myth that it was possible to kill someone by dropping a coin from the top of the Empire State Building. And well, that didn¡¯t work. The terminal velocity of a coin was reached after falling for fifteen meters or so, so it didn¡¯t make much of a difference whether you chucked a penny out of a sixth-floor window or, well, off the Empire friggin State Building.


    And getting around this limitation required a few tricks.


    For example, you could throw something with such speed that the projectile not only flew far faster than its terminal velocity, but was also sufficiently quick that by the time it reached its target, air resistance would not have robbed it of its lethal power.


    But you could also create a more aerodynamic projectile, whose lower air resistance meant that they could reach higher speeds. As Thomas was now planning to do in his Dungeon.


    Or ¡­ or you could use something heavier, whose mass increased the downward force exerted by gravity, thereby increasing terminal velocity.


    That last option was what the newly established ¡°leader¡± did. Without any prompting. In a way that Thomas hadn¡¯t even known the ¡°Snatch¡± power could be used in.


    By using both hands to snatch something, one raised the mass limit to ¡°anything you could grasp with both hands¡±.


    And where small, walnut-sized projectiles had fallen short, an alien coconut-equivalent thunking against the hyper-jaguar¡¯s head did the trick.


    The big cat was suddenly detached from the tree, falling back down towards the Earth ¡­ until it suddenly came swinging back towards the tree and started pulling itself back up. Reeling, maybe? The motion was strange as all get out. What on Earth was going on he- ¡­ oh, now that was cool. The beast¡¯s claws were attached to its paws by some kind of thread that it was currently spooling back up to return to its previous position.


    Thomas wanted that power. He wanted it bad.


    For its utility, of course, but the fact that it was cool as hell didn¡¯t hurt either ¡­


    But that was just one monkey with a good idea, and monkeys didn¡¯t have any highly evolved language on par with what humans had. They could communicate, however, conveying a concept like what the lead monkey had done with words alone was beyond them. They learned by seeing and mimicking, the reason behind the saying ¡°monkey see, monkey do¡±.


    The jaguar burst through the upper branches, tearing one of the spider monkeys apart with its claws while the others scattered, hurling whatever they could get their hands on.


    One small problem, though. The monkeys weren¡¯t strong enough to throw the coconuts very far, dropping them worked much better, but with all creatures at the very top of the tree, that wasn¡¯t an option.


    What followed was a high-intensity game of ¡°Ring Around the Rosie¡±. Two more monkeys died in the cat¡¯s jaws in the process, but the lead monkey was rapidly figuring out new tricks. Leaping to the thinnest branches on the nearby trees made it far harder for the jaguar to follow, which had to find something a little sturdier to hop onto.


    Apparently, while its claws were sharp as hell and could be used like grappling hooks when embedded somewhere, slinging them into a tree from afar didn¡¯t work out nearly as well.


    So it was falling back, step by step.


    Until a flick of the predator¡¯s paw sent the claws through the air like deadly rope darts, a lethal blade attached to strings that could guide them from afar.


    One more monkey fell from its perch, trailing blood.


    But the second time the cat tried that, it didn¡¯t go so well when the wire got tangled up in branches.


    Thomas started chuckling when he saw that. There didn¡¯t seem to be a quick way to retrieve it, otherwise, leaping over and hacking apart the offending branches seemed like a very ineffective way of dealing with the issue.


    So the jaguar didn¡¯t try that again, instead trying to catch the monkeys the old-fashioned way, unaware that they were leading it towards the museum. Soon enough, it¡¯d be dead, and Thomas would have both his creature, and his monkey champion.


    Hopefully.


    As long as the monstrous predator didn¡¯t catch up.


    But it was slowly closing the distance, and the monkey leader was slowly falling behind as it ever so often turned around to chuck something at its pursuer.


    And it was gradually getting lower, closer towards the ground.


    What was it doing? And would his interventions just distract it at a crucial time?


    The answer to the second question was probably no, sadly.


    Eventually, it was starting to look as though Thomas was about to lose his new favorite monkey, until the jaguar finally leaped, flinging itself straight at the monkey, which had just started jumping higher again. And was currently in midair, unable to dodge. Or so it seemed.


    But another coconut thing manifested in its hands at the last possible second and slammed into the jaguar¡¯s nose with an ugly crunch. That whole ¡°no evading¡± thing went both ways, obviously.


    And the cat was now completely off-balance, thrown off its original trajectory, and was currently plummeting towards the ground in a fall that would be crippling even if it wasn¡¯t fatal.


    But this was no ordinary cat and its rope-dart-claws laid open the monkey¡¯s back even as it plummeted earthwards. Fuck!


    The monkey landed heavily on a branch, its lifeblood running down onto the wood from ragged gashes in its fur, skin, and the muscle below.


    There was but one bit of good news. The jaguar had just hit the ground like a meteor and was currently lying there like a broken doll. Still alive, but in bad shape. Thomas dispatched a T-rex to fetch it and get it into his dungeon, while directing his remaining monkeys to carry their ¡°leader¡± to safety.


    There, he¡¯d already prepared a healing potion for it. Normally, he wouldn¡¯t spend such resources on a single basic monster, but this thing was not basic. At all.


    Once it was safe, he¡¯d use his monkey army to power-level the spider monkey pattern to E-Rank while preserving the ¡°leader¡± deep in the Dungeon, and then turning him into a Champion.


    And he¡¯d already picked out a name.


    Jan. After Jan Zizka, one of the brightest military leaders in history, despite his relative obscurity.


    The Bohemian General had lost an eye in his youth, and later his second one due to illness, yet even completely blind, he¡¯d never lost a battle.


    However, unlike many other legendary figures of military history, he¡¯d almost always fought at a numerical disadvantage, with ¡°inferior¡± troops made up of farmers and laborers, rather than professional soldiers.


    But his enemies, they¡¯d had those professionals working for them. The Teutonic Knightly Order, the army of the Holy Roman Empire, he¡¯d beaten them like rented mules. Jan Zizka had faced three crusades in total.


    He. Hadn¡¯t. Lost. A. Single. Battle.


    He¡¯d also revolutionized warfare through the invention of war wagons on the European battlefields and begun taking advantage of the existence of gunpowder weapons.


    And when he¡¯d lain on his deathbed, brought low by illness, he¡¯d made a final request that, in Thomas¡¯ mind, made him one of the most impressive figures, ever.


    He¡¯d had his corpse¡¯s skin removed and turned into a drum, so he could continue to lead his people even in death.


    Rest, little monkey, I¡¯ll take care of everything else until I can make your spirit immortal, Thomas mentally promised.

 Chapter 47: Accidents and Revelations

    It was great that Owens was delegating, it really was, but unfortunately, that meant that Jaclyn had even more paperwork to do than normal.


    Not to mention that even if she did not join Frye¡¯s as-of-yet unnamed agency, she was going to be working with it enough that there was already a boatload of paperwork related to that on her desk as well.


    Granted, very little of that had come from Frye, he was in a position to keep his bureaucracy lean for now, but it was still a mess.


    And on the ride back, she¡¯d realized that ¡°Bureau for Supernatural Affairs¡± was a terrible idea. In fact, any name whose initials included a ¡°B¡± with an ¡°S¡± directly after it was a terrible idea. Of course, that was an easy thing to miss, considering how busy the man had to be, but it was still not good that it had happened in the first place.


    She¡¯d wound up pointing that out in an email to Frye, to which she¡¯d attached Granger¡¯s report on novels related to the current mess. From the sounds of it, they were now going to go with ¡°Bureau for Preternatural Affairs¡±.


    Either way, no more ¡°BS¡±.


    Jaclyn snagged the apple she¡¯d bought earlier and forgotten about with her left hand while she continued to fill in paperwork with her right.


    She was so engrossed in making the mountain of bureaucracy go away that she wound up missing the fruit entirely when she tried to take a bite out of it. Her pearly whites missed, at least.


    The pale blue spectral fangs sitting in the jaws of an ethereal badger¡¯s maw, however, were perfectly on target, crunching down on the apple and crushing it in a single almighty chomp, leaving her holding a thin layer of peel and fruit flesh that hadn¡¯t quite been in range of the ¡°attack¡±.


    Her eyes flashed open as she focussed on the sudden magical phenomenon ¡­ and then it went away. Freeing the pulpy mess of fruit flesh and seeds to fall down to Earth. Or rather, straight onto her paperwork.


    ¡°Bollocks!¡± she swore, jumping to her feet while she ripped the form off the table and held it over her trashcan while she scraped the mess off.


    And the System wasn¡¯t exactly helping matters. In fact, seemed almost ¡­ gleeful at her misfortune.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Manifestation Type ¡°Badger Chomp¡± has been registered.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Yes, that wasn¡¯t exactly a bad power to have, but why on Earth did it have to show itself in that way? In hindsight, trying to bite something slightly out of range was exactly how she should have expected to learn a power like that but ¡­ Come. On. She had to hand in the form like that now.


    Or did she?


    She did have magic, after all. Sure, she¡¯d learned it for cleaning up toxic sludge and general wilderness survival, but what was the point in having it if it couldn¡¯t save her from unfortunate accidents?


    Sighing, Jaclyn began to picture the spellform for the cleaning spell in her mind, carefully pouring mana into it, until a dirt-annihilating energy field began to emanate from her fingertips. It got the paper clean quite quickly, but sadly couldn¡¯t do anything for the damage the moisture in the pulp had done.


    Eh, good enough. This particular bit of paper was only ever going to be seen by Owens, and he¡¯d probably be ok with that small amount of damage, considering the circumstances. And it was a simple page that would get rubber-stamped and likely never seen again. Not something she needed to get another copy over.


    Jaclyn sighed, and filled out the final couple of forms before returning her attention to her new ability. Mainly, figuring out how to make it work.


    Randomly snapping her teeth at the empty air produced nothing, so she wouldn¡¯t have to worry about accidentally summoning a pair of vicious rending jaws in the middle of, say, conversation.


    But that also meant that outright summoning it had a different set of requirements.


    Sure, she could look it up on her status sheet, but figuring out how to make it work on her own would probably be better. More intuitive than simply trying to match her actions to a short written instruction.


    So, what had Jaclyn been doing when her power had turned her apple into puree?


    She¡¯d tried to bite something that wasn¡¯t actually in her mouth yet. Retrieving her sandwich from the fridge and a plate from the cupboard would hopefully let her test it without making another mess.


    Holding the bread outside what had been the spectral jaws¡¯ previous range produced no results. And biting down on it normally let her eat, well, normally.


    But then, with great apprehension, she moved the sandwich away from her face before slowly closing her mouth again. And with glacial slowness, the ephemeral maw of a Honey Badger manifested and began to clamp down on the hapless chunk of bread like a vice, pulverizing it. And then it vanished, spilling the crushed food onto her plate.


    What if she tried it while focussing her mind on not wanting to eat the bread even though it was in range?


    Once again, no spectral chompers.


    Then came the dangerous part. Manifesting the jaws while one of her fingers was in the way. The tip of her pinkie finger, at any rate. Was there any risk of accidentally biting herself if she wasn¡¯t paying attention?


    Thankfully, when she did try, there was a small ¡°hitch¡± in the power, as though it were reluctant to engage. All it took to override that was a thought, and as the manifested fangs slowly closed, she realized that if she were stupid enough to ignore the warnings, she could hurt herself. But there were safeties in place.


    From that point onwards, she started trying out other tricks.


    Manifesting the jaws while eating her sandwich normally.


    Using the spectral maw to take a bite out of the sandwich and keeping it in place long enough to tilt her head back so it dropped into her mouth when she did dissolve the projection.


    And so on. It was mostly party tricks, amusing those who happened to glance her way while she was messing around, but it also gave her a solid grasp on what headspace and physical action would trigger her latest power application.


    Now that she had that feeling down pat, she looked at what the power description had to say about it.


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    Badger Chomp (make chomping motion towards target in range -> spectral jaws chomp down on target)


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Essentially, exactly what she¡¯d already worked out, but only in simple, abstract terms. With not a single word said about how far one could expand that concept of ¡°spectral jaws chomp down¡±.


    But now, she had to go get the broom as she¡¯d scattered crumbs all over the break room.


    ¡°And people claim that Felix is a messy eater,¡± Owens commented dryly, having only arrived until after she¡¯d already started cleaning up. ¡°Did he try to steal your food again?¡±


    ¡°Badgers are apparently just as messy as cats are,¡± Jaclyn shrugged, briefly putting down the broom so she could pick up the cat and put him somewhere she¡¯d already swept up the mess. He¡¯d shown up barely a minute after she¡¯d started her experiments and started begging. No one ever fed the precinct¡¯s ¡°Chief Rodent Exterminator¡±, but that had so far failed to stop him.


    ¡°New power?¡± Owens asked, before hanging his head. ¡°Never thought I¡¯d be asking a question like that. This world gets crazier every day, doesn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Every. Single. Day,¡± Jaclyn agreed, glancing out through the window.


    The crack in the sky that had appeared with the jungle had slowly grown more indistinct as time passed, but it was still there, eternally marring the heavens.


    But after a second, her eyes were drawn to a different area. One closer to terra firma.


    Jaclyn might not have had some supernatural ¡°good memory for faces¡± that let her remember every person she¡¯d ever met like some detectives on TV had, but she¡¯d been a cop long enough that she¡¯d acquired the ability to easily and swiftly recognize people when she saw them again. Individuals whom she kept crossing paths with investigating a specific case, matching sketches of suspects with real people, etc.


    And when one of Frye¡¯s bodyguards, some of whom she¡¯d been referring to as ¡°shaved gorillas¡± in her head, had shown up downstairs, trying to talk his way into the orcish encampment, she instantly noticed. And alarm bells began to ring in her mind.


    She briefly considered jumping out of the window to reach the zone of imminent disaster faster, but didn¡¯t. Only because that particular window didn¡¯t open.


    With a brief ¡°gotta go¡±, she jetted out the door and ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time, but when she reached the ground, she nearly collided with the mountain of a man she¡¯d thought was about to piss off the orcs.


    ¡°Inspector Abrams,¡± he raised an eyebrow. ¡°I was just looking for you.¡±


    So he had just been asking for directions?


    ¡°You aren¡¯t here for the Worldstrider Tribe?¡± Jaclyn asked.


    ¡°I am, but I wanted to talk to you first,¡± the man said, ¡°Name¡¯s Samuel Harper, Director Frye sent me to get the lay of the land vis a vis available Classes, and maybe get one myself.¡±


    ¡°The last spook who came around didn¡¯t exactly do our relationship with the Worldstriders and favors,¡± Jaclyn pointed out. ¡°Do you have a plan going in?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± Harper told her. ¡°And I wasn¡¯t going to try anything without running it past you first.


    ¡°Orcish culture is all about honesty, right? So I¡¯m going in, putting all cards on the table, and asking if they¡¯d grant me a Class.¡±


    ¡°And what cards would those be?¡± Jaclyn asked.


    ¡°We have magic to deal with, and any proper agreement is going to take forever to hammer out, so part of the deal is that I¡¯m not going to act against them directly, or knowingly indirectly. Ever.¡±


    She raised an eyebrow. That was a lot to offer.


    ¡°We don¡¯t need superpowered troops against them, and we need magic more than we need precautions against our allies. All cards on the table, minimal downside, it should work, right?¡±


    Jaclyn sighed and shook her head. ¡°What¡¯s their benefit?¡±


    ¡°Guaranteed 10 square kilometers of land, once our political overlords figure out where they can come up with it. And a show of good faith is going to accelerate a proper treaty.¡±


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    ¡°Politics make glaciers look like race cars by comparison,¡± Jaclyn suggested. ¡°How much faster could things get?¡±


    ¡°I mean, it¡¯ll take at least a month to write something that takes everything into account, but I think it¡¯ll be a little faster? The current bosses aren¡¯t idiots, and the idiot brigade who usually slows things down is nowhere to be seen,¡± Harper shrugged. ¡°So, what do you think? Are they going to go for it?¡±


    Jaclyn¡¯s ¡°Bullshit Radar¡± might not have been at a level where normal ranking determined it to be supernatural, but that didn¡¯t mean she wasn¡¯t pretty good at seeing through, well, BS. And she had the feeling that Harper was being honest.


    ¡°Try, but don¡¯t press things if it doesn¡¯t work,¡± Jaclyn suggested. ¡°Do you want me to come?¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll try on my own,¡± Harper said. ¡°If I don¡¯t know how to keep going, I¡¯ll just be polite.¡±


    ¡°That sounds like a good idea.¡±


    ***


    Even though Harper hadn¡¯t lied or even fibbed as far as Jaclyn could tell, she still wound up nervously pacing outside the camp¡¯s field of view. She figured hovering like a worried mother hen might cause trouble, but that didn¡¯t change the fact that this whole situation made her rather nervous.


    Frye and Harper weren¡¯t Jones, the MI5 agent who¡¯d fucked around earlier, and she didn¡¯t even know for certain they¡¯d been in intelligence before they¡¯d wound up as the founders of an entirely new agency, but they had this vibe. She was pretty sure they¡¯d been national law enforcement, in the intelligence service, or something in between she did not know.


    And in the past, dealing with other agencies usually involved being told, with various degrees of politeness, to ¡°go sit in the corner and stop mucking things up¡±. Condescending berks, one and all.


    But before she could wear a hole in the floor, Harper came striding back out with Gula beside him, deep in conversation, and a scroll in hand.


    Harper came to a stop near the exit of the camp, while Gula continued towards Jaclyn.


    ¡°Please tell me he behaved himself,¡± Jaclyn sighed.


    ¡°Do you think your ¡­¡± Gula paused before making the next statement with clear unfamiliarity ¡°¡­ ¡®political overlords¡¯ would be happy with him explaining what kinds of concessions your people are willing to make?¡±


    ¡°His boss okayed it, I think,¡± Jaclyn said. ¡°Why, what exactly did he say?¡±


    ¡°He said that your people need magical power now, before a thorough agreement can be created, therefore, significant concessions were needed.¡±


    The plan she¡¯d already known about, basically.


    ¡°But you¡¯re going to go for a thorough agreement, land in exchange for access to your village nexus, right?¡± Jaclyn asked.


    ¡°Of course,¡± Gula nodded. ¡°Emergencies are temporary, so are allowances made for them.¡±


    That was good to know. Sure, on paper, Jaclyn should have been ¡°supportive¡± of her nation, but patriotism was an ephemeral notion. Gula was a friend, and England had a long history of taking advantage of less developed nations.


    Not that the Worldstrider Tribe was primitive, they¡¯d merely developed using magic rather than technology, but the power difference was still there.


    Established government vs nomads stuck in a strange land due to a shift on a multiversal scale. If the Worldstrider Tribe gave up their big advantage by granting too many people access to the System, they might even be screwed.


    ¡°If he wishes to come to the Dungeon tomorrow, he can,¡± Gula added after a brief pause. ¡°However, you should give him some advice.¡±


    And Jaclyn would do just that.


    After bidding the orc goodbye, she walked over to where Harper was pawing at the empty air.


    ¡°You can mentally control your System with a little practice,¡± Jaclyn told him.


    ¡°Tried that, didn¡¯t work,¡± Harper grunted.


    ¡°Put down your hands for a sec, take a deep breath, and try to do something simple without moving your hands. Opening or closing your status, for example.¡±


    With apparent difficulty, Harper kept his hands by his side while his eyes flickered from side to side, reading something she couldn¡¯t.


    ¡°Walk with me,¡± she invited while starting to move towards the nearest park. ¡°What Class did you get?¡±


    ¡°Healer of Nature,¡± Harper admitted, causing Jaclyn to raise an eyebrow.


    He just shrugged. ¡°Let¡¯s just say that I had a few different careers, but wouldn¡¯t have minded becoming a doctor if I¡¯d had half a chance. And we need magical healing if we¡¯re going to avoid having our officers laid up for weeks after every fight.¡±


    ¡°Anyone could have become a healer,¡± Jaclyn pointed out, causing Harper to shrug again.


    ¡°Probably. But magical healing is one hell of a bribe, so we needed a Healer now, not later.¡±


    That rankled a bit, as it absolutely smacked of giving even more privileges to the rich and influential, but it made sense. She didn¡¯t know what that Class would look like when used, no one did, but it made sense that magical recovery would be able to do things that modern medicine couldn¡¯t. Even if it was just accelerated healing.


    ¡°Do you have any tips on getting the most out of the System?¡± Harper asked.


    ¡°To paraphrase the words of a young man I know, ¡®everyone has the same power in a video game, but synergy makes you a god¡¯. Figure out what you want to be able to do, then figure out what Skills help you achieve that goal. The more high-Level Skills fed into an action, the better, and literally anything is a Skill, even breathing. Get creative. And start thinking about what kinds of Skills you can level just by living your life so you know what to put into your off-duty rotation.¡±


    ¡°Off-duty rotation?¡± Harper asked.


    Jaclyn then proceeded to explain how one would be able to switch out Skills more often the higher your Rank was, and what the advantages of that were, before proceeding to expound on other aspects of the System before things went in a different direction.


    ¡°I was wondering why there isn¡¯t a cop class. I thought you could just turn your Skills into a new Class?¡± Harper wondered.


    Jaclyn thought about how to explain that before she decided that an example would work best.


    ¡°The System creates a Class out of all your Skills above Level 10, unless you¡¯ve got a bunch of Skills even higher. And it tries to mash everything together under a single umbrella.


    ¡°I¡¯m a single mother who¡¯s also a police officer and a martial artist. What do you think a single Class with all those aspects looks like?¡±


    ¡°Police brutality, helicopter parenting, and ¡®tough¡¯ love, one power each?¡± Harper asked.


    Jaclyn snapped her fingers before turning the movement into pointing at him.


    ¡°Exactly. We¡¯re looking for someone, though. Some old veteran who lived for the job, has insanely high cop Skills and no hobbies that get mixed in. It¡¯s taking a while, though.¡±


    ¡°Figured that¡¯d be easy,¡± Harper suggested.


    ¡°A veteran cop who without hobbies? Nothing to decompress with?¡± Jaclyn raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°I guess that¡¯s silly,¡± Harper shrugged again.


    They¡¯d reached the park by now and the conversation shifted again.


    ¡°You know, I don¡¯t think we¡¯re going to be able to control all supernatural crime if magic becomes widespread,¡± Jaclyn finally said. ¡°Most people are going to be stuck at F-Rank, so we should probably start strong with a mission statement like ¡®going after all crime from E-Rank¡¯.¡±


    ¡°¡­ But are available upon request?¡± Harper suggested.


    ¡°Obviously,¡± Jaclyn nodded.


    ¡°And you don¡¯t think that F-Rankers need magic to beat?¡± Harper asked, sounding skeptical.


    ¡°At peak F-Rank, you¡¯ll have had 100 stat points to distribute. You throw all those into Body, you¡¯ll be a tank, tough and strong, but too fast to control yourself, or even move normally at all. Go all in on Spirit and you¡¯ll have a strong power, but be physically slow and vulnerable. A pure Magic user could be destructive, but should be handleable. Pepper spray or taser, done. And someone who¡¯s all mind is going to be an annoying mastermind, but really, what good is that going to do if someone is already being arrested?


    ¡°A few new pieces of gear, some adjustments to training and protocols, things should be fine. And like you said, our new agency would be available on request.¡±


    ¡°I mean, we¡¯ve got two magic cops and one magic criminal, and he¡¯s in jail,¡± Harper pointed out. ¡°We can handle everything ourselves for now.¡±


    ¡°But I know that there are two other Systems out there, plus cultivation, and magic is possible too,¡± Jaclyn said. ¡°This is the beginning of global change, and we need to be planning for how things will be in the future, not how they are now.¡±


    Harper grimaced, but she was already continuing.


    ¡°So, Gula told me you¡¯re coming with us to the Dungeon tomorrow. Tell me, have you ever gotten into a fistfight with a tyrannosaurus?¡± Jaclyn asked innocently. First, she¡¯d tell him about all the dangers already present, and then, she¡¯d start laying out the plans for dealing with them. And hope that he was experienced enough to not lose his head. He should be, after all, Frye had sent him.


    ***


    Two hours until go time. Until Jaclyn was finally allowed to head back to the Dungeon properly.


    Time she¡¯d expected to spend jittery as hell, watching the clock continue ever ticking forward, until it felt as though every passing second had been lengthened to match a geological era.


    And she turned out to be mostly right about it. Until Granger showed up, looking so excited as though he might vibrate fast enough to light fires if he stood on something flammable.


    She¡¯d compared him to an excitable puppy in her mind before, but it had never been this extreme before. Like ¡­ like a chihuahua but one that had its eternal rage against the world replaced by sheer excitability.


    ¡°You¡¯re ready to get your Class, right?¡± she asked, though the question was purely perfunctory. It was pretty obvious.


    ¡°Yep,¡± he nodded. ¡°Wanna come?¡±


    Of course she did. Creating a Class was something that was entirely new for her, something she desperately wanted to see. They might not have found a cop for that particular Class yet, but this was something they could do.


    They headed down into the orcish camp together, where Gula was already waiting, dressed in a different outfit than her usual ¡°functionality is king¡± clothing. It had an air of ritual about it, being made entirely of natural materials and meticulously crafted into an intricate robe that looked like it had been made yesterday while also having a certain ¡°ancient¡± quality that made Jaclyn think that it was far older than that.


    And the rest of the tribe was gathering around them, making her think this whole thing was a much bigger deal than it had been indicated to her.


    ¡°Wyatt Granger, today, you make a grand contribution to the Village Nexus of the Worldstrider Tribe. You have worked hard to improve yourself, to create a Class that will remain recorded in the Nexus for so long as this Tribe survives.


    ¡°Do you feel that you, Wyatt Granger, are ready to make the attempt?¡±


    ¡°I, student of magic and the limits of the human mind, am ready,¡± Granger announced. That had clearly been rehearsed, and he¡¯d been coached.


    Huh, Jaclyn hadn¡¯t about any of this. Had she really not noticed anything? Despite her experience and literal superhuman hearing? Or had they been deliberately keeping this in the shadows until things were ready?


    ¡°Then approach, and lay your hand upon the pillar of civilization,¡± Gula invited him, stepping to the side to reveal the low podium of crystal she¡¯d been standing before.


    Taking slow, measured, steps Granger approached, with Jaclyn clearly able to tell how much restraint it was taking to not go charging forward and slapping his hands onto the Nexus.


    She was also painfully reminded of the fact that the whole ¡°creating a cop Class¡± was yet to be discussed with the tribe. And it needed to be, because apparently, creating a Class was a big deal, complete with witnesses and ritual. She felt severely underdressed.


    Granger reached the Nexus and laid a palm atop it.


    ¡°Today, we witness the creation of a new Class, one born of magic and a sharpened mind,¡± Gula announced, with the rest of the tribe echoing it with a loud ¡°We witness!¡±.


    Jaclyn grimaced internally. This really felt as though she was intruding, even though she had been invited.


    And then, the crystal under Granger¡¯s hand flashed blue, quickly followed by a System window appearing above his hand visible to all.


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    You have chosen to create a personal Class on the Path of Infinite Skills. This is the purest expression of your Skills and who you are as a person.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    The window hung there for a couple of seconds before vanishing, replaced by a description of the Class in question.


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    Personal Class: Logos Mage


    This is a Class based on the idea that knowledge is power, and applying this power to the real world using the keen mind of the Magus, granting powers related to enhancing the mind, empowering the memory, and transforming knowledge from abstract information to useable spellwork.


    ¡°It takes a lot of magic to create an avalanche, but hitting the correct rock on a mountain can start one for but a drop of mana.¡±


    Starting Power: Fractal Mind (Split your mind to cast multiple spells simultaneously)


    Would you like to accept this Class?


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    ¡°Logos¡±. What on Earth did that mean?


    Jaclyn decided to keep that question to herself as to not disrupt the majesty of the moment, but she¡¯d definitely ask later.


    ¡°I accept,¡± Granger announced, sounding almost enraptured, revealing yet another screen.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


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    Fractal Mind


    Your mind is an infinite maze of memories and thoughts, endlessly splitting and subdividing, granting you the ability to do as many things as you wish, at the same time.


    You gain the ability to create a new stream of thought for every ten points in the Spirit Statistic, with the power of the new stream depending on your Mind Statistic.


    Your mana pool will be evenly split between every stream of thought, with no single stream being able to use more than that amount. Furthermore, when using multiple streams on the same spell, that spell¡¯s maximum mana is limited to the mana allocated to a single stream unless the spell in question is a ritual. In that case, one stream¡¯s mana may be used for each participant slot the ritual has.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    That power sounded strong. All the spells Granger knew, or rather, the handful he could learn from the Worldstriders¡¯ archives, were rather low cost, she knew that, and he¡¯d likely be able to cast them by the dozens once his Level was high enough. A living artillery battalion, eventually.


    Sure, that power currently only existed in her imagination, but once upon a time, her current level of strength had also lived in her mind. And today, she was capable of fistfighting a car. Literally.


    Now all that remained was seeing how things worked out in the Dungeon. Once all the congratulations were done, of course. Some orcs were at the Nexus, likely calling up windows visible just for them to find out more, others were talking to their children about the new possibility, and others still were deep in animated discussion with Granger or each other.


    It made sense that they hadn¡¯t created a magic class so far, after all, they only knew a few spells and everyone learned those eventually once they naturally gained points in the Magic stat. Why go all in on magic if you¡¯d get it anyway?


    But Granger¡¯s Class was more than just ¡°am able to cast spells¡±. And it seemed like there was a lot to discuss about it.


    This ¡­ it seemed like things would take a while.

 Chapter 48: Monkey!

    Power leveling a specific creature pattern was difficult when Thomas wasn¡¯t getting any visitors, but there were ways to get around the issue. Throwing money at the proverbial wall. Well, in this case, the money was also proverbial, but the principle was the same.


    He made sure to fill ninety percent of his command limit with proper defenders, using only the smallest fraction of his available subordinates to power-level his monkeys using whatever options he had available, however much it cost. The Dungeon was already so stuffed with defenders that it was ready for any reasonable enemy, and that it didn¡¯t matter whether his mana pool was completely full or utterly empty when trouble found him.


    So Thomas spent his power like water to keep the trickle of experience going.


    Small critters, from birds to monkeys had been his attempt at luring in visitors. He sent them out of his domain, as far as humanly possible, to the point where his senses barely told him that they were still alive, let alone specifics about their status, and then recalled them.


    When they were still alive. Which was far from a given.


    So many times he simply lost the connection, having it vanish without warning or apparent reason as something tore them apart.


    Some didn¡¯t even return, seemingly having decided to try their luck in the wild.


    But he was spending mana so quickly that he was losing it more quickly than it was regenerating. Eventually, some of his ¡°scouts¡± encountered other creatures, and a fraction of those even managed to return to the dungeon pursued by another creature that the spider monkeys then literally stoned to death.


    Initially, the process was an inefficient mess.


    Countless creatures died without him getting anything out of it, often not even receiving information on what was out there. But eventually, he started to narrow down where his creatures were dying, assuming that was where predators could be found. And if creatures died in the areas around those, chances were these were that the predators in question were of the pursuit variety, as opposed to using ambushes, since the former was more likely to chase his creatures.


    So those creatures were what he tried luring, refining his process all the same. Splashing monkeys with blood before they left to attract hostiles, instructing them to ¡°act injured¡± if their destinations were close enough to the museum that he could control them some, and so on.


    Unfortunately, the threats in some areas seemed to have been satiated by what they¡¯d already caught before he got his act together, but others fell right into his trap, fat and happy. One by one.


    When that stopped really working, Thomas started experimenting with other avenues. Namely, carcasses.


    He had quite a few scavenger patterns, so he summoned some, and used them to figure out what combination of smells attracted them the most, then summoned a massive pile of offal, perfectly formulated to attract as many creatures as possible, and pushed it out of the door to let the smell spread as wide as possible, not have its dispersion constrained by the narrowness of the door. Also, scavengers would be more likely to approach something out in the open, as opposed to entering an enclosed space.


    For half an hour, Thomas forced himself to stay put, waiting to see if anything actually showed up, not wanting to accidentally scare away anything that did come to check this stuff out.


    And while he waited, he plotted. Drawing up a plan that took a page out of nature¡¯s playbook.


    Large predators herding prey into tight groups, then tearing straight through those swarms with a mouth full of food.


    In this case, it would be less of a matter of concentrating food and more getting the ¡°victims¡± into a position where they could be hunted in the first place. But it was still based on how dolphins tore through migrating sardines off the coast of South Africa, and Thomas was pretty sure that certain birds also used these tactics against flying insects.


    He sent out a group of t-rexes into the jungle and had them fan out before returning to scare the creatures now between them and the jungle, driving them towards the Natural History Museum.


    It ¡­ it did not work out the way he¡¯d hoped it would. This was a jungle, and most creatures here could climb, which the dinosaurs couldn¡¯t.


    And anything that couldn¡¯t climb was likely big enough not to need to. Forest elephants, for example.


    How could he counter that? What other ways did he have to drive every living creature in the jungle before him ¡­ except maybe a forest fire? His t-rexes were part dragon, weren¡¯t they?


    Thankfully, the first thing he tried to ignite was a massive, living, tree and when he asked Elias about how to improve his fire-starting potential, the fairy had vetoed the whole thing. With very good reasons behind it. The potential for the fire to spread to stuff Thomas didn¡¯t want destroyed to pissing off creatures who hadn¡¯t deigned to act at all until now.


    And what if the smoke or flames hurt people in the city beyond?


    No, the wildfire plan wasn¡¯t going to fly. Or rather, it would have achieved the desired goals, while also causing a whole lot of other stuff to happen that was less, well, desirable.


    Which left Thomas with his old tricks.


    Dead bait, dangling live prey in front of where he assumed predators were, and chasing creatures into his reach. Once close enough, Thomas could just use a wyvern or another monster to grab them, toss them inside, and have the monkeys kill them.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Daylight faded as dusk came, and the red sky of evening faded into night.


    Thomas had expected the already slow experience gains to come to a grinding halt at that point, and the only reason he kept going was that as a Dungeon Core without the need to sleep, he didn¡¯t have the siren song of rest to distract him. Therefore, he just kept on doing what he was doing. But if he¡¯d still been human, he¡¯d have jumped into his bed in a heartbeat.


    But the thing was, jungles never really slept. There were some diurnal critters, and a handful of crepuscular animals that he saw during dusk, but there was also a ton of nocturnal activity.


    Before, Thomas had always assumed scenes in movies about jungles at night had had a ton of extra sound added in post-production, with some director going ¡°it¡¯s too quiet, slap on some random jungle sound file¡± and the editors complying.


    But now that he¡¯d spent time in a jungle, he found out that they were actually that noisy. And since most of those sounds were caused by animals, he knew that had to mean there were creatures responsible for this. Creatures he could hunt.


    Lots of them. Scavengers, mostly, which hadn¡¯t quite put together the chaos of the day with the sudden appearance of reeking meat carrion. Or at least, the chaos didn¡¯t put any of them off.


    It made sense that there were so many scavengers out at night. It was marginally safer to then, and when scavenging, one could take one¡¯s time locating food as it didn¡¯t move or run away the way prey would.


    Of course, after the first few creatures had been snatched up and dumped into the Dungeon, the scavengers became more cautious. Likely, something about the fresh blood or disturbed earth was tipping them off.


    And his monkeys were still only within spitting distance of E-Rank.


    Step by bloody step, they edged closer, but even so ¡­ it was painful, truly painful to watch this going on.


    Blood and carnage you weren¡¯t directly suffering from, like a video game or movie, could be entertaining. And having ¡°invaders¡± that weren¡¯t a threat to him was nice-ish.


    But at some point during the night, things had gotten boring, the process winding up on the same level of ¡°interestingness¡± as watching paint dry. Even when something was happening, it was still just mechanical responses to a stimulus that he¡¯d seen a hundred times before.


    This would be the last time Thomas could do something like this for months, possibly even years. All the easily accessible prey had already fallen to him. All he could do was hope that what was left would be enough to create his new champion.


    The first rays of dawn were visible to his creatures on the roof by the time he did manage to make things happen.


    Some kind of eight-limbed tree cat monster-thing dropped dead, head caved in by a dropped stone, and the spider monkey pattern was finally able to be upgraded.


    But instead of upgrading the entire pattern, he focused the power into a single creature. His now fully recovered favorite monkey of all time.


    That particular creature had been sequestered off into the closest thing to paradise that Thomas had been able to create, waiting. He wasn¡¯t able to give a specific designation to a specific creature unless it was a champion, but he¡¯d been calling this particular paragon of monkeykind ¡°Jan¡± for most of the day.


    He mentally reached out and pulled him into his core, keeping him there, and pouring all the accumulated power meant to uplift an entire species into a single individual.


    The E-Rank power was obvious, and had been selected almost from the start. Dungeon Relay, which was essentially a ranged version of the Dungeon Avatar ability, making Jan his ambassador to the outside world. And it would even allow this specific monkey to grow outside Thomas¡¯ Dungeon. If he was able to take something down by himself.


    And for D-Rank, Thomas would hand out the same power that he¡¯d already decided to give his regular Spider Monkeys when they hit E-Rank again. It was a variation on telekinesis he¡¯d found in a local predatory bird that might only work at point-blank range, but was powerful. The original holder of this power used it for defense, pushing projectiles one way while dodging in the other, but Thomas planned to use it in another way as well. Offense.


    His monkeys could also ¡°summon¡± projectiles for throwing as long as anything that fit the bill was within their line of sight. And that would put the projectile close enough to their holder to add telekinetic force to their attacks¡¯ momentum.


    He wasn¡¯t entirely sure where to go from there, but he was pretty sure he¡¯d be able to come up with something suitable by the time that question needed to be answered.


    However, a mere ¡°power¡± was only the start of what it meant to upgrade something to champion.


    This was a chance for him to upgrade Jan on a fundamental level, with him just needing to think about what he wanted to change and if it was at all possible, that change would automatically be done.


    So that was what he did.


    First, the fur was enhanced to have the same properties as spider silk, and added more hairs, so that cutting attacks would wind up gathering hair before themselves and wind up having to push through a layer of spider silk hairs before they hit the skin.


    Secondly came the internal enhancements. Toughened bones, denser muscles, adjustments made to increase survivability. And some hefty defenses meant to prevent whiplash to ensure Jan survived when someone or something punted him away. Despite his power, he was rather small.


    Thirdly, he upgraded something he hadn¡¯t touched on his other champions. Jan¡¯s pool of available energy to fuel his powers. That limited his ability to make further adjustments, but Jan was tiny. The physical alterations had been cheap.


    And finally, Thomas made some cosmetic alterations.


    Jan got a pair of shockingly blue eyes, almost human-looking, at a larger than normal size to make him look just that little bit cuter. And then he got a large white patch on his chest, reminiscent of what a tuxedo cat had.


    That combination would ensure that even amateurs would be able to identify him at a glance. It also looked great.


    Overall, Jan had become an absolute beast.


    Thomas observed the monkey rocketing through the mass of vines in the geology section like a pinball, hurling nuts, rocks, and everything else he could repurpose as a projectile at every target the Dungeon set up.


    Of course, his lethality would heavily depend on the quality of the available projectiles, but overall, he wasn¡¯t just dangerous, but he was extreme killing power condensed into a tiny package.


    Thomas watched the antics for a while until he finally returned his attention to the outside world.


    Now that Jan was at E-Rank and a true blue champion, Thomas could stop exterminating every creature he could possibly reach. Sure, he might be able to get a tiny bit little further, but was that worth the cost of permanently destroying the ecosystem around him, and potentially cutting himself off from animal delvers for years or decades to come? He felt that the answer to that question was a decided no.


    So he sent a few giant sloths out there to shovel the mess back into his Dungeon where he could absorb it and later flood the outside with water to clean the stairs.


    Of course, that was when the military truck burst out of the treeline, causing Thomas to reflexively freeze up, having his creatures likewise stop moving. Like the proverbial deer in headlights, though right now, he was feeling more like when he¡¯d gotten caught sneaking booze as a teenager.


    ¡°Okay, what on Earth happened here?¡± Inspector Abrams asked as she got out of the car, looking at the mess with a mixture of fascination, confusion, and disgust.


    Yeah, what on Earth had happened here? What would he explain it as?

 Chapter 49: Proper Party

    The whole affair had shifted from a ritual to a celebration in an instant. Or at least that was what it felt like.


    Jaclyn had been to plenty of formal events in the past, both as an attendee and as security, and she was more than familiar with how those normally went. Even once the scripted, ¡°ritualistic¡± portion was over and done with, things remained stiff and rigid for a long time, only slowly coming to life. And even then, most of what happened was just shmoozing and glad-handing, the old boys¡¯ network in action.


    This, though, went from having an air of mysticism and gravitas akin to that of Victoria Cross being awarded to a college party in an instant. Mostly. The people involved weren¡¯t immature idiots with no concept of ¡°know your limit¡±, but the energy was there. That energized atmosphere, the cheering, and the boasting.


    ¡°You¡¯re the new Anima Monk, right?¡± a male orc rumbled behind her, his voice so deep she thought he was deliberately making him sound so rough. She swiftly remembered that orcs in general had extremely deep voices, Gula also sounded as though she were speaking from the bottom of a well, but she¡¯d only ever talked to the tribe¡¯s leader so far. Everything else had just been her overhearing conversations.


    She turned around to face the man who¡¯d addressed her and nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯m Harjaz,¡± he he introduced himself. ¡°What did you pick? I heard that it was some kind of indestructible cat that scares off everything that tries to get at it?¡±


    What on Earth had Granger been telling everyone?


    ¡°Something like that,¡± Jaclyn said. ¡°Honey Badgers aren¡¯t quite that strong, but they never back down from a fight and do whatever they have to to win, so nothing wants to fight them.¡±


    ¡°Apparently, even cultivators can learn that lesson,¡± Harjaz commented dryly. ¡°And they¡¯re usually stupid as bricks when it comes to everything except their advancement."


    That certainly described the one cultivator she¡¯s met so far. Minimal people skills, minimal strategic planning, even minimal martial skill beyond the techniques themselves.


    ¡°What¡¯s your bond?¡± Jaclyn asked.


    ¡°Steelborne,¡± he said, holding out his forearm, back of his hand facing her, as dark grey armored hide briefly covered it.


    He¡¯d chosen transformation for his E-Rank ability, between that and the name of his bond, she assumed he was borrowing power from some kind of heavy armored beast. Something like a rhino, or an elephant, maybe.


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s cool,¡± Jaclyn said, holding out her right hand in a mirror of his stance and manifested Honey Badger claws above her knuckles.


    The orc cocked his hand to the side. ¡°Don¡¯t you have ¡®Demonstration¡¯ yet?¡±


    Jaclyn raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°All Spirit Projection users are able to show their full projection potential just by thinking about it. It will not let you do anything on its own, but appear impressive,¡± he said.


    Oh, that was cool. Not something she¡¯d learned of before. But it seemed worth trying out.


    And it was exactly as simple as Harjaz had indicated. A flimsy, ethereal, shell manifested a few centimeters above her skin, but when she moved her left hand towards a nearby hit, the shell phased straight through. Purely demonstrative, no real effect outside maybe intimidation, but it looked damn cool.


    ¡°A fierce beast,¡± Harjaz commented. ¡°If you are ever free, your fellow Anima Monks will be available for train- ¡­¡±


    It was a nice offer, but it was cut short as a small explosion sounded out from behind him, causing him to flinch, whirl around, and bring up his arms in their transformed state.


    At the same time, Jaclyn had ducked behind the nearest hut while manifesting solid projections around the arms she raised into a guard position in front of her face.


    Then, laughter started to echo out from right where the explosion had come from,and Harjaz joined in soon. He dropped his hands back to his side and glanced back at her over his shoulder with a massive grin on his face.


    ¡°You are taking that little mage into a Dungeon later, yes? How good are you at ducking?¡±


    ***


    They were late. Very late. They¡¯d wanted to be on the road over three hours ago.


    But it had been very important for Granger to gain some measure of control over his magic and he had basically no magic, currently. He¡¯d thrown all the Stat points he¡¯d gotten with his Class into magic, but that only gave him as much magic as she had, which was barely enough for two fireballs and would take an hour to fully regenerate. So training had been ¡­ tedious. Long. Lots of waiting around for a few seconds of excitement.


    However, the simple fact that he was able to use two streams of consciousness to form a simple offensive spell instead of just the usual one meant that he was able to cast Fireball far more quickly than a normal person. Add the multitasking and knowledge acquisition Skills he¡¯d trained up to absurd levels before getting the System and he¡¯d managed to get to a passable level in less than a day.


    That didn¡¯t stop her from nervously glancing his way every so often, though.


    In fact, their current Dungeon group was 50% Level 1 newbies. They¡¯d taken Harper along, Frye had been very open to lending him out so he could grow.


    The specifics of his Healer of Nature Class were simultaneously simple, and endlessly complex. He could use his mana to enhance and guide the effects of ¡°natural¡± medicine, and would work better the more involved he was in the process of its creation, such as harvesting, drying, grinding, etc.


    In essence, it made him a bargain-bin alchemist.


    At the same time, though, the Class was incapable of properly working with modern medicines.


    And yet, somehow, he¡¯d managed to munchkin his singular power into something that could, theoretically, let him cure cancer.


    Munchkin. That was a funny word. Though sometimes, when speaking to younger people, Jaclyn felt like they were talking different languages.


    But the point was that Harper and Granger had gotten together at some point and found something theoretically viable, though, in practice, no one had allowed him to experiment just yet.


    The trick was simple. There was this plant called an ¡°Autumn Crocus¡± that contained a dangerous toxin called colchicine that worked similarly to some chemo drugs, though this particular compound had been deemed too dangerous to be used. However, that was under normal circumstances.


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    Harper could, in theory, pluck the plant, flood it with mana, then keep preparing and refining it, all the while pouring more mana into it until he finally fed it to the patient, at which point he could use even more mana to make sure the colchicine was almost exclusively affecting the cancer cells.


    ¡°What does ¡®logos¡¯ mean?¡± she finally asked Granger.


    ¡°It¡¯s Ancient Greek, it means something like ¡®logic¡¯, and its a part of a lot of sciences. Psychology is the ¡®logos¡¯ of the psyche, bios means life, so biology is the ¡®logos¡¯ of life, that sort of thing,¡± he explained.


    ¡°And you¡¯re a mage who studies the fundamentals of magic,¡± Jaclyn nodded.


    ¡°Yep,¡± he nodded before staring off into the distance, clearly digging through his status again. And another moment after that, he pulled out a small notebook and began messing around with it.


    That really was a very interesting Class he had, but despite its name and power description, Jaclyn was pretty sure it was mostly about his mind, not magic. He might have gotten his magic Skills high enough with the System¡¯s help that they¡¯d affected his Class creation, but they couldn¡¯t possibly have gotten high enough to reach the same Level as everything else he did.


    He¡¯d told her his main hobbies were reading, watching TV, and video games, often two at once. Hence, the high-Level multitasking. ¡°Reading¡± would also be folded into his learning-related Skills, watching TV didn¡¯t grant Skills, and individual video games likely only had specific, low-level Skills attached. One each.


    And general, catch-all Skills were likely something like ¡°reflexes¡± and ¡°planning¡±.


    A combination of luck and a marathon magic study session driven by the System had allowed him to create a workable Class. But if he¡¯d gone deeper into a hobby with an individual Skill holding it, or he hadn¡¯t brought up some of his mental Skills to almost the human limit, he wouldn¡¯t have been able to make something like this.


    The more she thought about it, the more she realized how impressive creating a Class that anyone could draw on was. How impactful.


    It was something to be damn proud of even if all one was doing was crystallizing one¡¯s life experience into the singular concept known as a Class.


    But that train of thought directed her onto something else.


    Just how much effort had to have gone into her own Class? The one she¡¯d just grabbed from the Village Nexus?


    Even just creating something that gave the wielder the power to fight like a Honey Badger had to be complicated in the extreme.


    One would have to start by creating an appropriate martial art, something like her Fist of the Indomitable Badger, but they wouldn¡¯t have the advantage of supernatural stats and a whole bunch of martial arts experience to transform into the new Skill-slash-combat-style.


    But would that really be enough? Would that just produce something like ¡°badger imitator¡±?


    Or would the creator have had to also learn martial arts, pugilism, and a truckload of other supporting skills too, just to provide a broad basis for everything?


    And no matter what the exact requirements were, the creator would have barely been able to have any hobbies, as anything that got gained high a level would interfere. Even with a couple of the desired skills at a time being leveled at an accelerated pace and hobbies only growing at the normal learning speed, that would be tricky.


    Not to mention cooking, cleaning, and all the other Skills acquired just by living one¡¯s life ¡­ and there was far more to Anima Monk than just the ability to fight like a specific animal. No, it was the ability to pick any animal and use its abilities to beat powerful enemies.


    How would she create something like that? Learn the five traditional animal styles of Chinese martial arts, which, depending on who you asked, were either leopard,tiger, crane, snake, and dragon, or mantis, tiger, crane, monkey, and snake. Maybe all seven of these styles?


    Or every animal style ever created? Because there were quite a few more.


    And yet, wouldn¡¯t that just produce something like ¡°Kung Fu Master¡±, rather than something solely about animal fighting?


    Had the original creator of her Class created their own animal-style martial arts and combined the Skills of the martial arts themselves with the Skills they¡¯d gotten for creating martial styles based on animals?


    What kind of freakish dedication had they had?


    These kinds of questions kept Jaclyn¡¯s mind busy until she was rudely shocked out of her deep contemplation when they reached the museum and were greeted with a pile of bloody meat big enough that giant sloths were literally shoveling into the building for processing. Well, they were using their hands instead of tools, but still ¡­ she was interested in hearing the story behind this mess.


    And then, a small black monkey with a white patch on its chest peeked out from the head of one of the giant sloths.


    ***


    ¡°So, there was this dragon ¡­¡± Thomas began, only to be met with a flat stare from Inspector Abrams. An ¡°I¡¯ve literally caught you with your hand in the cookie jar, there are crumbs on your shirt and there¡¯s chocolate smeared all over your face, how on earth could you possibly explain this¡± kind of stare. But she didn¡¯t respond. She didn¡¯t have to.


    Thomas had Jan turn his head back towards the entrance and teleport a plain manilla file folder into his hand, then leap off his ¡°ride¡± to land in front of the Inspector.


    ¡°So, there was a dragon and I really needed to make my third champion with a power that let me send him to talk to you guys.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re talking right now,¡± a young man standing behind the Inspector said.


    ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t have been able to do that an hour ago because we¡¯re not inside my Dungeon. I can¡¯t really control my critters out here, and I can¡¯t talk through them no matter what. But now I can talk through Jan here.¡±


    Then, he had Jan point at the folder Abrams was currently leafing through.


    ¡°Like I said, there was a dragon, and there¡¯s an even bigger dragon out there we need to stop because she¡¯s a tyrant from another world who¡¯s recovering her strength with every passing day. I¡¯d love to help with that, by the way, if you can get her in here somehow. Or find her for me, so I can do the luring myself.¡±


    Thomas then gestured towards the convoy.


    ¡°And I have to insist, you can¡¯t all come in here. Even if the worst happens, someone needs to be there to tell everyone else about the threat.¡±


    Inspector Abrams raised an eyebrow at that.


    ¡°Look, this is a Dungeon. It¡¯s dangerous. Even if you¡¯re careful, stuff happens.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Do you know anything else about this dragon?¡±


    ¡°Nope, it¡¯s all there in that file,¡± Thomas announced, using Jan to pull another folder from the ¡°visitor information desk¡± he¡¯d set up just inside the door.


    ¡°That¡¯s the same as the Dungeon information packet on the door, but you can read it without having to wait for me to clean up the mess.¡±


    Thomas was really hopeful that they would go into the Dungeon, but his main priority was making sure he gained allies for the fight against Alaxia Mystscale.


    ***


    ¡°Hey, is the reward for informing the authorities still available?¡± Granger asked the talking monkey after looking up from his dungeon booklet.


    ¡°We already know about the Dragon,¡± Jaclyn reminded him.


    ¡°Can I borrow that file?¡± he asked and snatched the file out of her hands, then handed it right back. Then, he looked at the monkey Daedalus was inhabiting. ¡°So, I just gave a high-ranking member of the police force the file on the enemy. Does that count?¡±


    She glared at him, but the monkey just started laughing. Literally rolling around, to the point where she wasn¡¯t sure if it was still amused, or just plain dying.


    ¡°The balls on you, kid,¡± the little critter wheezed out before straightening in an attempt to regain its dignity. ¡°So, what do you want? A backpack¡¯s worth of monster materials, any animal in my menagerie as a pet, or a magical monster? Monster¡¯s gonna have to be within reason. Pet tokens give you pets that¡¯ll listen to you and won¡¯t hurt you on purpose, but you¡¯re still going to have to feed them and make sure they don¡¯t accidentally burn down your apartment.¡±


    ¡°Burn down?¡± Granger asked in an eager way that made Jaclyn cringe.


    ¡°Velociraptor with a dragon template. They look badass and spit fire. Look at the door,¡± Daedalus explained, yerking a thumb up towards the museum¡¯s entrance.


    Jaclyn glanced up as well, seeing a surprisingly tiny creature standing there, barely larger than a chicken, with heavy, dark green, armored plates covering any part of its body that didn¡¯t have any feathers.


    ¡°Ok, that thing would be awesome, but I was just trying to see what you¡¯d do if I asked,¡± Granger shook his head. ¡°I really don¡¯t have the space for a pet. But if I ever move, how could I get one later?¡±


    ¡°Check the loot tables,¡± Daedalus announced via the monkey, pointing at the young man¡¯s folder.


    Granger did so, but then suddenly slapped it closed and stared at the monkey.


    ¡°Do you really have a panacea?¡±


    ¡°For your Ranks, yes,¡± Daedalus nodded, then gestured behind him. ¡°So, the mess is almost gone. Do you know where you want to go? Do you want the old Dungeon? I expanded it, but there is an end with a warning sign on it because at that point, you¡¯d be entering my personal space. Or do you want the new wing, with the prize that can fix literally anything?¡±


    Oh, that was a difficult choice.


    Sure, the panacea was attractive, but that place was going to be hard as all get out, wouldn¡¯t it?

 Chapter 50: New Section

    Everyone was looking at her. Even Gula. Though the orc seemed to be less expectant, more curious.


    ¡°We¡¯re going for the panacea,¡± she finally decided. ¡°If things get too dangerous, we can always retreat.¡±


    Jaclyn didn¡¯t currently have any relatives in dire need of healing, and judging by the fact that no one had even tried to push toward the potion, no one else currently needed it either.


    And that meant that it was available as a bri- ... as an incentive. Like Harper had already had, the availability of magical healing was something that could easily be used to convince the people in power to funnel even more resources and manpower toward the burgeoning supernatural agency.


    Besides, the booklet had marked that part as ¡°unfinished, may be harder the next time¡±, and then clarified that the unranked creatures would likely have their powers soon. That should make it much easier. If it was true. But Gula dismissed the likelihood of that happening as being infinitesimally small.


    ***


    ¡°Whatever this Dungeon core¡¯s origin may be, it is a creature with knowledge about the multiverse. Even where the compact does not hold sway, Dungeons who lie are destroyed. They may lay traps, they may mislead with their architecture, but these beings shall not make false statements. When something is clarified, it must remain true,¡± The orc explained.


    That had basically been Thomas¡¯ thinking. There were plenty of sayings, in all manner of languages, empathizing how someone who lied was unlikely to be believed even when they were telling the truth. And a Dungeon who got a reputation for playing games, especially when those games killed people, would be perceived as a massive threat and destroyed.


    Of course, that required the Dungeon to get caught, people could die inside even when fully informed, so a full party wipe with plausible deniability was doable.


    But even if Thomas thought he could get away with it, he wouldn¡¯t try anything like that unless his targets were deliberately aiming to kill him. For example, the creatures in the ¡°off limits¡± section of the Dungeon, the last few underground floors beneath the mammal hall, were listed on the loot tables, but with wildly misleading names and listed loot. An apparent oversight, but one he had very deliberately made.


    All that being said, though, even if he were inclined to try, he wouldn¡¯t get away with any shenanigans. Elias wouldn¡¯t let him. They got along just fine nowadays, having decided that while luring anything into the Dungeon to be killed was normally a huge honking red flag, Thomas knew where the line was, the difference between dumb animals and actual sapient beings.


    The group outside made a few plans, during the course of which he learned all their names. The kid was Granger, and apparently, now a mage of some stripe, while the completely new guy, Harper, was a healer despite looking like the walking wall of muscle and cheap suits that served as the disposable bodyguard in many a movie.


    Oh, this would be cool. Thomas had remembered how quickly the Inspector had grown during her first Dungeon run. Gaining superhuman power by leaps and bounds. It was incredible to witness, though he wished he could feel it himself. As incredible as his new existence as a Dungeon was, it didn¡¯t let him pull off anything like it.


    ***


    The plan was simple. Go in, deal with the creatures she knew to be in the entrance hall, a setup that hadn¡¯t changed, as far as she knew. And then, scout out the new section. Simple. Clean. No need to overcomplicate it.


    Jaclyn was the first through the door as always, fearlessly stepping out from beneath the mezzanine into the room proper, carefully making sure to step out right underneath the tiger she could hear creeping around up there.


    The big cat leaped down at her, as she knew it would, but it was no longer anything near as threatening as it had been before. Not when she could literally snap its spine like a twig with one hand and was so tough it could barely injure her. A straight bite to the back of the neck with all the force it could bring to bear would still be a threat, but she had no intention of letting it get anywhere close to her vitals.


    Jaclyn spun and backhanded the beast, throwing it to the side where it lay, stunned. A backhand was a very dismissive strike, one that barely did any damage, but damage hadn¡¯t been the goal. Redirecting it had been.


    Gula already had her Halcyon projection out in case it was needed, however, this had been for Granger¡¯s benefit. He desperately needed to level so that he could increase his mana pool and actually contribute more than two fireballs in the entire Dungeon run. And that meant that when he used his magic, he needed to get kills.


    An apple-sized orb of flame flew through the air, Granger¡¯s underhand toss surprisingly accurate as it landed right on the big cat¡¯s stomach where it detonated with a soft ¡°whoomph¡±. The shockwave was nothing to write home about, even a normal human would have likely survived a hit like that, but the flames that were spread by the impact ¡­ burning to the death was an ugly, ugly, way to die.


    However, she had different priorities, namely, the dinosaur standing at the far end of the hall. A camarasaurus with an elastic tail that it liked cracking like a whip, with complete freedom with regards to its length. Her target.


    Thunder cracked behind Jaclyn as Gula¡¯s Halcyon fried the second tiger while the dinosaur came rushing towards her, ground quaking beneath its feat without any magic at all necessary to cause the effect. It was just that heavy.


    The dino¡¯s tail cracked through the air, further elongating as it passed the point where it was closest to the columns, going straight for Jaclyn¡¯s neck. Just like last time. But the end result would be very different. No getting thrown all over the place, no winding up dumped in front of a hippo, and she wouldn¡¯t lose her replacement gun either.


    She blocked it with her forearm, causing the ludicrously elastic tail to wrap around it, while she manifested the badger head over her own to protect herself from the very tip of the appendage before it bounced off her cheek.


    Jaclyn used her right hand to grasp the tail, ensuring that even if the dinosaur somehow managed to unwind the limb, it wouldn¡¯t be able to save it.


    A shimmering badger paw manifested over her left hand as she punched out at the tail right above where she¡¯d grabbed it, claws punching clean through. So she punched it again, and her third strike was purely perfunctory, ripping through ragged strands of flesh that would likely have snapped anyway when the dinosaur retracted its tail. Which it did at that point, dotting the wall red with droplets of blood.


    Jaclyn charged, leaping over the follow-up strike that had been aimed at her legs, only to get smacked by the camarasaurus¡¯ head. She used that as her chance to grab its neck, wrapping her arms around it until she could clamp her legs around its throat. That was when she let go with her arms and just started punching, claws manifesting and tearing into whatever part she deemed most vulnerable.


    The first couple of strikes were bad, biting primarily into muscle, but from there, she managed to refine her attacks, ripping open the windpipe and several major blood vessels that likely served as the equivalent of the jugular and carotid on dinosaur regardless of what they were named.


    Somehow, the dinosaur collapsed in a matter of seconds, faster than she¡¯d expected, trapping her underneath its neck for a brief second until she could push herself back out.


    ¡°I hope you have a change of clothes,¡± Harper commented dryly as the others approached, with Granger nodding along.


    Jaclyn sighed. The blood would disintegrate along with the body, but this Dungeon wasn¡¯t clean enough that she could roll around on the floor and not pick up some dirt. And it would only get worse with every fight.


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    ¡°Cleaning magic,¡± she responded, fully aware of the fact that she didn¡¯t have the mana to keep casting it during the dive, she¡¯d have to put up with it until the end.


    Then, she glanced over at Granger. ¡°Did you get a Level?¡±


    ¡°Yep, all points into magic,¡± he replied.


    The newly acquired space in an enlarged mana pool was filled when the points were applied, so he¡¯d not only just doubled the number of his available spells when it was full, but he¡¯d also gained two fireballs¡¯ worth of mana in the moment.


    In addition, mana regenerated as a percentage of the pool, with around 95% percent being returned over the course of an hour, so he¡¯d also doubled his regeneration. Granted, there were certain grand, powerful, spells that would reduce the regeneration, with the exact amount and duration of the reduction depending on the spell in question, but that was a moot point since the Worldstrider Tribe hadn¡¯t had any spells like that to teach him.


    So he did the same thing she had on her first Dungeon run, when she¡¯d gotten her first few Levels. Generally, some degree of balance was required when growing, spreading the available points out across various Stats.


    For example, one could not get the full benefits of a high Body without sufficient Mind, which enhanced reflexes and granted the level of control needed to move at the maximum potential speed a newly superhuman physique allowed for.


    A high investment into Magic was also less useful with just a baseline human brain, since being able to think faster and multitask better directly translated into a higher volume of spell output.


    And while a low Spirit might not directly impact one¡¯s abilities, but it did severely limit the strength of one¡¯s powers. Sure, overwhelming physical power might be a strength all its own, but powers made a huge difference.


    For example, Jaclyn might have had nearly as many points in Spirit as she did in Body, but since for her, Spirit strengthened the projected claws she used to attack, so she actually did more damage with this distribution.


    However, those were considerations for the far future. When you started out, it was important to improve in a way that let you reasonably contribute, balance would come later. For her, that had meant gaining the strength to injure dinosaurs and hippos with her bare hands. And for Granger, this meant boosting his magic to the point where he was only useful every thirty minutes or so.


    Jaclyn turned around when a rustling sound reached her ears, being faced with several bales of what looked like dinosaur leather. It probably wouldn¡¯t be that impressive overall, being no bulletproof wonder substance or the like, but it would make for a nice tangible benefit from diving the Dungeon. Who knew how long it would take before the novelty of dinosaur-made products wore off?


    It¡¯d make for nice ¡°gifts¡±, she didn¡¯t mind giving up the leather as she could always get more.


    She pointed down the left-hand corridor, which currently held a giant sloth and a wooly rhino.


    ¡°Harper, watch out for those things. The rhino¡¯s aggressive, but unranked. But the sloth can stretch its arms when it punches. It could probably reach the cafe entrance from where it¡¯s standing.¡±


    ¡°Why isn¡¯t it attacking?¡± he wondered.


    ¡°This Dungeon has chosen to set rules for itself,¡± Gula explained. ¡°No creatures shall confront delvers not inside their rooms.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡±


    Then, he pointed at her right arm. ¡°Can I heal that?¡±


    Jaclyn glanced down at the slight redness on her bare arm, where she had been unable to manifest a shield as she¡¯d needed to properly grasp the tail.


    ¡°This is nothing,¡± she said. Literally nothing. This wasn¡¯t even the kind of damage a rubber band might do when snapped against a normal human¡¯s skin.


    ¡°Yeah, but I need to level,¡± Harper pointed out.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you just go to a hospital?¡± Granger suggested.


    ¡°Yeah, he can go to a hospital with a bag full of medieval herbal medicines, unproven, unlicensed, claiming they¡¯re magical. We¡¯d wind up having to get him out of the loony bin,¡± Jaclyn pointed out as she approached the healer and held out her arm. ¡°Is this going to take long?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Harper said, reaching into one of the many pockets on his utility belt and producing a salve that smelled like someone combined half a spice rack with a pine-scented candle and Everclear. He dipped a finger in and gently smeared a small dollop across the non-injury and it vanished in a matter of seconds.


    Granted, injuries requiring actual medical intervention would likely take longer than that to heal, but it was still impressive enough to see.


    ¡°Let¡¯s head into the new area. Carefully,¡± Jaclyn ordered and once again took the lead.


    The corridor there was much the same as it had been before, a hallway with marine fossils lining the walls. It was pretty, but also highlighted the big difference between this place, and the hall she¡¯d left literal seconds ago. The transition from slaughter to peaceful academia left her feeling a little weird.


    However, the sight at the end of this particular corridor made that disappear like morning dew under a hot sun. Her strongest memory of the geology section was how terrified Eve had been of the Earthquake simulator. But even so, she was damn sure it hadn¡¯t looked like that before. Like a jungle.


    Or, perhaps, a mangrove forest of some kind, considering that she could see that water had replaced the ground.


    ¡°I¡¯m stepping in first, if something steps out, Gula, use lighting on it,¡± she ordered. Harper had a gun and Granger had his fireballs, but she figured the projected mini thunderbird was the most likely to be able to strike past her without hitting her.


    She stepped right up to the entrance, taking a look around before stepping inside. There were more hippos in the water, along with spikes, but it didn¡¯t look like there was any way for the big lugs to get onto the walkway. They would only be a threat if someone fell in. But chances were that this room had some way to make staying on the rather wide walkway more difficult than it really should be. She couldn¡¯t quite tell where the issues lay, but the black shapes flitting through the vines gave her some hints.


    And based on the fact that the Dungeon¡¯s newest monster was a super spider monkey, she assumed that these were spider monkeys too. Would they jump on them and start clawing at their faces, or just throw shit? As in, literally?


    Jaclyn grimaced as she remembered some of the various things she knew about monkeys and their methods of self-defense.


    She took a deep breath, and stepped out onto the walkway ¡­ and a coconut smacked against the back of her skull with a loud thunk before hitting the ground behind her and fully cracking open.


    ¡°Ow!¡± she yelped, sheer shock and surprise shattering her usual self-control as she whirled, looking up in time to see another coconut teleporting into a monkey¡¯s hands and getting chucked straight at her. That little wanker might not have been human, but she swore he was laughing at her.


    Her fist smashed it to pieces before it could hit her, the projected claws protecting her knuckles, though she still had to dodge the follow-up spray of coconut water. That had been an utter waste, she should have just gotten the hell out of the way.


    And then, something else flew at her from behind. She whirled and ducked, watching some kind of extremely pointy nut fly past her head. But it was only the first of many.


    A whole lot of monkeys, all throwing stuff at her from every direction. Admittedly, the sheer amount of foliage around meant that they couldn¡¯t target her from halfway across the room, but it was still a lot. Enough to injure and eventually kill a normal human, and potentially enough to make her fall off, into the water below.


    She hurried back out again.


    ¡°Granger, throw a fireball at a monkey, see how flammable those vines are,¡± she ordered. He might be a good weapon against the monkeys, but if those vines burned easily, he could easily wind up suffocating them all purely by accident.


    A single fireball flashed through the air and a monkey screeched as it died, while the vines just smoldered. Well, that settled it.


    ***


    Thomas watched as the four delvers carefully entered the first room of the geology section, cursing whenever they were hit by a nut.


    Inspector Abrams and Gula the orc were too tough to be hurt by the pointy alien nut he¡¯d found in the jungle but the coconuts were painful.


    However, the others were in much more damage. The healer¡¯s assault rifle roared in brief bursts, annihilating monkeys that were close enough to throw stuff at him, while the mage was careful to incinerate any monkey that tried to get above them. After all, coconuts were too heavy to throw properly, but they could be dropped.


    Everyone was bleeding to a certain degree, but fine. No one was badly injured, and no one fell off, even though it was close in a couple of places, with feet coming within mere centimeters of the edge. Even so, this was just the start. And watching humans run from a band of tiny widdle monkeys throwing nuts had a certain comedic element.


    ***


    They took shelter in the hollow sphere that had been in this room before for a moment, taking a breather, only to run the last two exposed meters from the main hall into the upper floor, leaving the room of nutty hail.


    ¡°Like taking candy from a baby,¡± Harper grinned as he spread ointment on his various scratches. ¡°We¡¯ll have to grab some riot shields next time, but ¡­¡±


    He trailed off when he saw everyone else staring at him.


    ¡°First, this place is alive. Jinxes in here is the Dungeon reacting to insults,¡± Jaclyn pointed out. ¡°And second, have you ever actually tried taking a little kid¡¯s candy? It ain¡¯t easy.¡±


    ¡°I thought only Disney villains did that,¡± Granger threw her a mock-horrified look.


    ¡°When Eve was really young, she couldn¡¯t have chocolate or things would get ¡­ ugly,¡± Jaclyn began. ¡°But older relatives either forget or ignore it when they¡¯re told not to give chocolate to the baby. So guess who got to be the bad guy and had to take the sweets away?


    ¡°Babies are crazy strong, you really wouldn¡¯t expect them to have a grip like that. And when you do get the candy, that¡¯s when the waterworks start. Seriously, people talk about torture being inhumane, but that look is psychological warfare that should be against the Geneva Convention!¡±


    ***


    The humans laughed at that, but from above, a Dungeon Core watched, considering. Thinking about how to weaponize this new idea of his. Psychological warfare, huh ¡­

 Chapter 51: Mean Tricks

    ¡°That¡¯s a creepy sign,¡± Jaclyn commented as she stepped up to the start of the muddy pool with a narrow metal walkway in its middle and two mesh fences on either end that acted as the next challenge.


    ¡°BEWARE THE TATZELWYRM¡¯S LEGACY!¡±


    It was like something straight out of a movie, or maybe one of those stupid lawn ornaments people with average incomes but a complete lack of taste put in their garden as a joke. Wooden planks, black paint that had run after being applied, holes in the wood as though someone had shot it with a gun, and something had taken a bite out of the corner.


    And what did it mean? When had the Dungeon gotten its hands on one of those creatures? They weren¡¯t jungle dwellers, based on what Gula had said, they were supposed to live in the mountains. So whe- ¡­ the blood. Gula¡¯s projections might not have been physical creations, but the blood of the Tatzelwyrm was its main weapon, so that had been real. And when she¡¯d used it in the Dungeon, it had grabbed a hold of the pattern.


    Jaclyn really didn¡¯t want to think about one of those things being in the water. If it died in a way that shed blood in any way at all, then the water would be filled with a virulent toxin that would cripple or kill anyone who got wet. And cleaning an entire tank of water, especially one with so much other filth that would get caught up in the spell and cleaned as well, massively driving up the mana cost.


    Not to mention that she didn¡¯t even know what was in there. Clumps of moss, algae, and wood drifted along the surface, giving everything an even swampier appearance.


    But trying to clean the water so that she could see was beyond even their combined mana pools, even if Harper and Granger had learned the cleansing spell. They doubtlessly would, later, and on the off-chance they decided they didn¡¯t need it, she¡¯d set them straight.


    Nothing left to do but either retreat, or try something else. Jaclyn chose the latter option, cautiously dipping the tip of her toes into the water, realizing that was extremely shallow there. She proceeded onwards with the same caution, carefully testing her footing before putting any weight down, until she¡¯d reached the beginning of the walkway, where mesh fencing ensured that one could only proceed onwards via the walkway, while also ensuring that anything inside the water underneath stayed put.


    Clearly, the area before only served as a way to ensure everyone got their feet wet.


    And that, in turn, convinced her that her initial assumption had been correct. The challenge wasn¡¯t just getting past a pool full of God only knew what, it was doing so without spilling their toxic blood. Blood which, she assumed, wouldn¡¯t go away when the body dissolved back into magic. However, she should be immune, and the others weren¡¯t in the pool yet, so she was willing to risk it.


    Jaclyn stuck out her arm first, holding it through the gap in the fence, and waved it above the walkway, but nothing happened.


    So she held it above the water itself, garnering an immediate and vicious response as a crocodile a little shorter than she was tall leaped out of the water and snapped at her fingers. Or rather, where her fingers had been. She¡¯d yanked her arm back the instant the monster had breached the surface, and was now making a grab for the creature.


    Her fingers closed around its torso, allowing her to get a solid grip on it, but this left her in an awkward position, holding onto a wildly flailing and snapping beast whose jaws she could not hold closed with her free hand without getting bitten. But she had the strength to just hold it far enough away from herself that it couldn¡¯t actually reach her, which made the situation bearable if strange.


    She pulled it back through the gap in the fence, turned around, and held her captive out to Gula.


    ¡°Can you analyze this thing?¡± she asked. Instant identification required an insanely high Inspect Skill, which even Gula didn¡¯t have, but with a captive, it should be doable.


    ¡°Unranked Dwarf Crocodile,¡± Gula said. ¡°I believe it is a fully grown specimen.¡±


    Was the sign premature, then? Was the toxic blood only going to be added later? Was there something else in the water? Or were there both unranked crocodiles and F-Rank Tatzelwyrm crocs in there?


    ¡°I¡¯ll go over first,¡± Jaclyn said. ¡°If I fall in, use the Tatzelwyrm projection to poison the water. Stay out of the water after I¡¯ve killed all the crocodiles until we know it isn¡¯t toxic.¡±


    Poisoning the water would bar their advancement deeper into this section, but also kill all the little crocs in there. And accidentally killing something with toxic blood would do the same. But it seemed they¡¯d be fine if all the crocs were the same.


    Jaclyn let go of the crocodile with one hand and manifested the badger claws on it, then put them clean through her captive¡¯s skull. It disappeared after a heartbeat, leaving her clutching a bale of crocodile leather.


    Oh, maybe she could have something nice made for herself out of that? Her share, at least?


    She tossed the loot back onto dry land, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.


    Then, she opened her eyes, manifested a spectral badger paw on each hand, and stepped out onto the walkway.


    In an instant, the water began to boil, half a dozen critters becoming visible in an instant. Some merely differentiated themselves from the driftwood by moving, others launched themselves up from underwater, jaws already open and ready to clamp onto her.


    She stepped backwards, causing the first attackers to miss, while lashing out with her claws. These were the claws of a Honey Badger, specialized for digging rather than combat and not really optimal for cutting enemies flying by to ribbons, but with her power, it didn¡¯t make much of a difference. At this point, the only problem was how hard it was going to be to get all that leather out of the water.


    Most people would not have been able to fight like that without losing their balance, but she was both a trained martial artist and even had Ballance as a Skil in her alternate loadout, where it had already hit Level 13. Meaning she was sufficiently good at it that she could do it professionally. Become a trapeze artist or something.


    Jaclyn even wound up catching the last two crocs and carried them out to the others and let Granger blow them up with a fireball for the sake of Levels.


    Ok, that had been ¡°easy¡±, but she was yet to figure out what the sign had been about. Pure psychological warfare?


    But the way was clear, so they all walked across the walkway while Gula¡¯s bird projections picked up the leather packets floating in the water.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    That¡¯s when Jaclyn saw the giant grey head lazily rise above the surface, beady little eyes staring at her. A hippopotamus. Likely the creature with the Tatzelwyrm¡¯s blood.


    So that was the game. Kill or escape the crocodiles without so much as scratching that thing. Beating the small critters was easy when she was at E-Rank and they were just normal animals. But like the brochure had already said, this place was incomplete. Once these things gained a little power, the difficulty would skyrocket.


    Granger came up to her holding a pet token he¡¯d found somewhere. For a crocodile, based on the design.


    ¡°You missed this,¡± he said, offering it to her.


    ¡°You don¡¯t want this?¡± she raised an eyebrow. Normally, he practically squeed with excitement every time he found one of these things.


    ¡°No space, no money for food,¡± Granger repeated his earlier statement. ¡°A temporary summon would be cool, though. For fighting, or just to have a tiger to cuddle with on the couch for an hour or two. Something without a lifetime commitment.¡±


    ***


    Oh, that was a cool idea, Thomas had to admit. But could he actually do that?


    ¡°You don¡¯t want them to summon a bunch of meatshields in a Dungeon,¡± Elias advised as though he¡¯d read Thomas¡¯ mind. ¡°But you can add a condition to them that makes them not work in here, and that prevents summons from coming in.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me that befo- ¡­¡± Thomas began before cutting himself off. They¡¯d had this argument already, and Elias had won it. Resoundingly.


    The fairy had simply rattled off every piece of trivia he knew in an hours-long speech of which Thomas had retained very little. He just had to hope that Elias showed initiative and provided the necessary information. Or, if he felt that there was information he hadn¡¯t been provided, he could just ask.


    Creating a new token was easy, he just created a duplicate of each existing token pattern and one by one, manipulated the copy as needed. Temporary summoning, with the summoner being able to cut it short at will. If they didn¡¯t, the monsters would vanish after three hours.


    He also figured out how to adjust the creatures based on the mentality of the summoner, as much as the token could sense at any rate. Someone who wanted a meatshield would get a merciless fighting machine, while someone who just wanted to have a cute big cat to cuddle for a bit would get a creature actually receptive to the snuggles.


    And then, just for the hell of it, he created a few of what he called ¡°swarm tokens¡± in his head. They would only work for a few minutes at most, being very much a weapon of last resort or something to be whipped out right at the beginning of combat, but they would be powerful, especially when he got some high-Level rats. Until now, whoever got their hands on these tokens would be able to throw out half a dozen rock hyraxes, a trio of wolverines, or even a fivesome of Fer-de-lances.


    ¡°Should I create summoner creatures?¡± Thomas wondered. It seemed like a great way to somewhat sidestep his command limit.


    Elias vigorously shook his head. ¡°Won¡¯t do you any good. Your creature¡¯s creatures also count against your limit in here.¡±


    He laughed. ¡°You¡¯re a Dungeon, for celestials¡¯ sake. The embodiment of challenge! You can¡¯t just infinitely chain together summons until the only limit on your creatures is space.¡±


    Yeah, that actually made sense. Lots of it. But Elias wasn¡¯t done.


    ¡°But that only applies to the inside of your Dungeon. Jan could use tokens, but he¡¯ll still have the usual limit on bonded creatures, even if they¡¯re just temporary. So two full creatures, or one swarm.¡±


    After that, Elias explained that you could get your first bonded creature at F-Rank, the second at D-Rank, the third at A-Rank and the last at S-Rank, while summoner Classes or people who just had the relevant powers would obviously have a higher limit.


    And, Elias being Elias, that then turned into a long story about just what summoners were capable of. Thomas made sure to memorize the important or useful stuff and just ignored the rest.


    That, and messing with the tokens was a nice distraction from watching the delvers breeze through the new section. He really wished he¡¯d been able to upgrade the crocodiles, but creating Jan had taken priority for a very good reason.


    Just how would they handle the next area, though? The Boomslangs matched Inspector Abrams¡¯ E-Rank, and the Fer-de-lance pattern had finally hit F-Rank and gotten the same armorbreaking bite the other snake had already gotten.


    ***


    Another forest of vines, but one without monkeys. Jaclyn had a really bad feeling about this one.


    Gula threw a lightning bolt into the foliage before they did anything else, though, checking if they could use fire and lightning without causing a huge wildfire. At least that was what she thought, until she saw something dissolve at the point of impact, leaving behind a small vial.


    ¡°Snake,¡± the orc deadpanned as Jaclyn carefully approached and grabbed the loot.


    It was, well, a sturdy glass vial vaguely reminiscent of one of those things that doctors drew drugs from to inject someone with. Pulling on the label let her unwrap a long-ish paper roll covered in Daedalus¡¯ awful handwriting. It was slightly better than last time, possibly due to the larger spider monkeys being better able to use human-sized writing utensils, but it was still plenty ugly.


    The note was long, reading like one of those instruction leaflets found in medicine packages, informing her of the fact that this was, in fact, an antidote to the snake¡¯s bite, but not guaranteed to work. It had never been tested on a human, Daedalus didn¡¯t know if the concentration was sufficient or potentially even high enough to cause issues, however, he¡¯d be very grateful to someone who took this vial to be checked out and returned with the results. Whoever was the first to take up this offer for a specific antidote would receive ten vials adjusted based on the information for optimal efficacy.


    Cool. And when she shared that information, Harper explained that he even had a few needles he could use to inject someone in an emergency, if Gula¡¯s Caladrius projection was on cooldown.


    But did they have enough to deal with the Dungeon?


    ***


    Thomas grinned as he watched the delvers struggle through the snake section, alternatively cursing a blue streak or jumping in fright at every small noise.


    He really was proud of this place. It was nasty and had great loot.


    Making the antidote had been easy, he¡¯d just had one of each snake bite a zebra, the closest thing to a horse he had, and inject a tiny amount of venom, which then caused the production of antivenin. Then, he used another creature to spill the zebras¡¯ blood, which he then absorbed and only summoned the needed component to provide the vials he¡¯d distributed.


    Though most snakes only dropped leather or vials of their venom, the latter of which was very obviously marked to avoid any fuckups. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure what someone would do with that liquid, but he¡¯d once heard that various venoms were extremely expensive and even if no one would buy that stuff, some researchers would doubtlessly be very happy if they got to play with it.


    The Boomslangs vine growth power was messing with everyone¡¯s footing while the flesh-rotting bite of the Fer-de-lances always required immediate treatment, until the Caladrius was on the verge of disappearing, likely only a single use away from becoming unavailable.


    And that¡¯s when Granger decided to just yell at everyone else to stay back, summoned a fireball in each hand, and hurled them into the jungle ahead, annihilating quite a lot of snakes. It was a cool move, but how much mana could he have left after that?


    ***


    Jaclyn couldn¡¯t really blame Granger for trying to burn a path through the jungle, though the smoke was annoying. The blaze had died down quickly due to this place being almost completely fresh growth and utterly lacking leaf litter, but it was still irritating. The smog was only at a ¡°kitchen disaster¡± level, thankfully, but not exactly great.


    Her stomach grumbled as she caught a whiff of roast snake, earning herself a few curious glances. She just shrugged, figuring that trying to explain the issue would only wind up making her look even more ridiculous.


    She might not have been some were-beast completely divorced from her humanity, devouring her fellow man to satiate a primal hunger, but her power was subtly affecting her. Specifically, her appetites. However, the whole ¡°snakes are good eating¡± advice was the worst of it.


    Sure, there were certain tea snobs who¡¯d call her using half a glass of honey for every pot of tea heresy and demand punishments normally reserved for high treason or regicide, but generally, having a sweet tooth wasn¡¯t a problem.


    That being said, if any of her colleagues ever saw her do that, they¡¯d tease her as a matter of course.


    Then, Jaclyn chortled at the mental image that now invaded her thoughts, of someone walking in on her while she had half a snake dangling from her mouth.


    She caught herself after a short while, sighed, and began to advance again. The venom might not do any damage to her, but she¡¯d already been bitten nearly a dozen times and it wasn¡¯t fun.

 Chapter 52: Ocean of Horror

    Finally. They were out of that damn jungle. Between having a vanguard immune to toxins and access to a method of healing that specialized against toxins, Jaclyn¡¯s group had been an effective counter against this place and yet it had utterly kicked their ass.


    In fact, other than the fact that they¡¯d all come out the other side alive, the only good thing about the whole situation was that, in all likelihood, that section wasn¡¯t going to be upgraded anytime soon. Bringing bog-standard beasts into the realm where they could gain powers should be far easier than upgrading creatures that already had powers. In other words, this thing should stay largely the same. Unlike whatever horrors the previous areas were likely to turn into.


    ¡°So, should we try it?¡± Granger asked as he carefully approached the edge of the next section. And it was, in fact, an edge, a sheer three-meter drop into deep and crystal-clear water that showed that there was nothing dangerous down there. Judging by the smell, it was regular water, which might sting a bit in her various scratches, but not particularly dangerous.


    The jump itself wasn¡¯t going to be too dangerous. But as for everything after that ¡­ they had no bloody clue save for the giant sign painted on the opposite wall.


    ¡°ONE WAY TRIP, LADDER IN TREASURE CHAMBER¡±


    The point of no return. A point, at any rate.


    ¡°Does anyone have any rope?¡± Granger asked. As it turned out, both Gula and Harper had brought some.


    ¡°We need somewhere to tie it down,¡± Jaclyn reminded him. And unfortunately, there was nothing around here like that. There were a couple of holes in the opposite wall that she assumed the promised ladder was meant to hook into, but that wouldn¡¯t work with a rope. And the jungle behind them didn¡¯t have any big sticks or tree trunks to tie the rope around, just vines that didn¡¯t look like they¡¯d hold.


    ¡°Two people can stay up here,¡± Granger suggested. That wasn¡¯t a bad suggestion, actually, not if the next section was a water level in its entirety. Harper didn¡¯t have any offensive abilities, he just had that assault rifle. And Gula¡¯s projections wouldn¡¯t work either. Lighting would hit everyone in the water, and while Jaclyn could survive the Tatzelwyrm, the orc couldn¡¯t.


    ¡°What if everyone stays up here, and I look?¡± Jaclyn suggested. Two people pulling a third up with a rope would normally be perfectly doable. But here, with absolutely nowhere to anchor oneself, and smooth marble floors, it¡¯d be tricky. Thankfully, the floor wasn¡¯t wet, but that was only the dimmest of silver linings.


    ¡°And if anything goes wrong, throw down the Tatzelwyrm.¡±


    She¡¯d look, and if something went wrong, the proposed emergency measure would clear the area around her, even if it would prevent everyone else from following and wasn¡¯t viable unless she was the only one down there.


    Once they knew what the situation was like down there, they could make a more educated guess.


    So they tied a rope around her waist in preparation for the jump, which they could just pull on if she called for it. Normally, being yanked around by a slim rope could cause damage, but she was well beyond the point where that was a concern. And Gula summoned the Tatzelwyrm projection and set it around her neck, where it stayed put like some kind of extremely ugly feather boa.


    Jaclyn also kicked off her shoes and socks, as well as rolled down her sleeves again. Her clothes would provide some degree of protection, and she had the strength to overcome the weight of the sodden cloth, but swimming with shoes on would be a little problematic and the salt water probably ruin her leather footwear. And her sleeves would probably loosen in the water, float about the place, and become an issue.


    When the hell did I become this gung ho? Jaclyn wondered as she got ready to take the plunge, so to speak.


    When the world went insane, I got superpowers for taking risks, and the mundane police and army aren¡¯t enough to keep me and Eve safe anymore. Not from what¡¯s out there now.


    She answered her own question moments later. She felt she¡¯d analyzed the threats of the current situation to her personal satisfaction, made an educated situation, and yet ¡­ every single facet of her training told her to wait for backup.


    Police officers did not engage in one-on-one honorable duels with suspects, they brought in sufficient force to ensure that, if everything went well, the situation never reached the point of combat. And if the affair did go pear-shaped, the present force should be enough to finish things with a minimal amount of violence. Jumping in alone outside of an absolute emergency was just plain wrong. And even so, that was what she was about to do.


    Jaclyn took a deep breath, and jumped, spine straight, legs together, arms by her side, punching clean through the surface of the water with a minimal impact and plunging deep.


    The impact was a lot less jarring than she¡¯d been building it up as in her mind, and while she blinked rapidly against the sudden intrusion of liquid pressing against her eyeballs, it was almost a simple transition. Her vision was almost as good as it was above the water, granting her a crystal-clear view of the critter charging at her.


    A shark barely longer than her arm had exploded from the coral reef before Jaclyn, a flattened creature with blue skin and darker stripes that she recognized as some kind of reef-dwelling subspecies from one of the nature shows Eve liked to watch.


    Shimmering claws manifested around her hands as she met the creature¡¯s charge with her fist. The water slowed her punch to a crawl relative to her usual speed, but she should still be able to ¡­ as her fist slammed into the critter, it was pushed away, the motion accompanied by the shockingly loud sound of something squishing, but strangely enough, she didn¡¯t hear any bones crack. Or saw skin breaking. It was more like punching a pillow with her bare hand than ripping into a living being with deadly claws.


    A small puff of blood came from behind the creature¡¯s head, where the gills lay, as it wiggled in the water in an attempt to get right side up again. Yeah, nope, not gonna happen.


    Jaclyn grabbed it with her left hand, making sure to turn it further so that its head stayed pointed downwards, while tugging on the rope three times with her right. And the others immediately started pulling.


    Being yanked through a medium as thick as water left her feeling as though she were about to be torn apart, and she had to relocate her right hand to hold onto the Tatzelwyrm, but at least the shark wasn¡¯t struggling anymore. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure what evolutionary pressure had caused sharks to evolve in a way that led them to be knocked out the moment they went upside down, but she was glad she¡¯d remembered that little tidbit.


    Barely five seconds after going into the water, she was pulled back down again, briefly jerking uncomfortably when the rope slipped off her waist and painfully caught under her arms. Ow.


    Then she had to make sure to avoid being pulled straight into the lip of the ceiling, which she had to push herself off of, but then she was back up there, shark clutched in one hand, dragon projection in the other.


    ¡°Scan it before it dies,¡± she ordered the moment she had eyes on the others, silently wishing that she¡¯d been able to boost her own Inspect to a useable level.


    But she knew that was years and years off in the future. Even ascertaining that something was definitely unranked required the Skill to be Level 10, and beyond that, things only grew more difficult. From there, one needed to get to the point where full ranks could be sensed, then one would be able to view an enemy¡¯s F-Rank powers and so on, up to the point where an enemy could be read like an open book, powers, Stats, and everything else.


    ¡°Unranked Pajama Shark,¡± Gula reported.


    So, a whole bunch of unranked critters without powers in an environment she was wholly unsuited to fight in. Did she want to try? As she took a moment to think about that, the creature in her hands dissolved, leaving her with just the hide.


    Jaclyn glanced down and saw that the roll of sharkskin was made up of particularly thick material. Almost three millimeters. No wonder her claws hadn¡¯t gotten through.


    ¡°Ok, new plan,¡± she announced. ¡°I¡¯m going back down again, with the Tatzelwyrm, and if I run into trouble, I¡¯ll pop it. And if I have to leave the water, I¡¯m coming straight back.


    The toxic blood would spread everywhere in the water, killing everything around her, clearing the area if she was ever in danger. But that trick wouldn¡¯t work out of the water, so if she transitioned to a new area, she¡¯d stop. She wouldn¡¯t try to tackle something that far from her team.


    She didn¡¯t want to try this ocean section alone either, but Gula was a spellcaster without applicable projections and physical Stats barely above the human baseline, and the other two were barely stronger than normal people either. They¡¯d get torn apart by the sharks in seconds.


    But she also wanted to take the shot at the panacea before its guardians were upgraded.


    And the others seemed to agree, because other than Gula using her halcyon to blast the water below with all the lightning it could muster to clear the way, they didn¡¯t do much, clearly willing to let her take the risk if she was okay with it.


    This time, though, she wasn¡¯t directly bound with rope, they didn¡¯t have one long enough for the whole section.


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    Once more, she plunged into the water and began swimming after making sure the Tatzelwyrm was still clinging to her back.


    Initially, she was just greeted by floating bits of sharkskin, but around twenty meters in, she started seeing disoriented critters, which she promptly killed, experimenting a little.


    The water that slowed her down also made it harder for her to directly strike the sharks, the ¡°shockwave¡± of the punch would start pushing the critters away before she ever made contact. In addition, that ludicrously tough skin meant that her claws were almost entirely useless.


    So she switched out her usual leopard fist for a spear hand instead, which basically amounted to keeping her hand as one would normally have it, fingers straight and together.


    It had less water resistance, making it perfect for the current situation, though she didn¡¯t use it much normally. After all, it shared the same purpose of being used to target weak points like pressure points or someone¡¯s throat, but she was less practiced with it and the spear hand was more likely to result in injury than the leopard fist.


    Annoying as they might be, these things were still unranked little knobs that even a glancing blow would leave dead or dying. Once they were upgraded with a deadlier bite, an electric eel¡¯s shock ability or, God forbid, hydrokinesis, they¡¯d be a nightmare to fight. But until then, it was she who held the advanta- ¡­


    Jaclyn felt a tugging on her trousers and spun around to see one of the little shits shoot away with a decently sized chunk of fabric in its maw. Clearly, all it had managed to get before she¡¯d noticed.


    A kick that could have shattered an oak desk and likely shifted a car plowed through the water, but all it did was unleash a massive blast of turbulence, the liquid pushed away by her leg sending the shark spinning like an insect caught in a wind canal, but the little shit was largely fine afterwards, disappearing between the coral.


    Jaclyn made a mad grab for it, but only managed to shatter several of the structures around the hole. Oh, those things were sharp! Not sharp enough to harm her, but a serious threat to the others. She internally growled with frustration but decided not to chase that particular creature.


    Instead, she advanced and things went well, all in all. Except for one particular shark whom she accidentally punched in the mouth, literally, with her fingers sliding into its open maw and when she yanked her hand back, the backward-facing fangs catching on her skin and causing her to inadvertently pull the creature along.


    But even that wasn¡¯t a real issue. She could feel those teeth were sharp and pointy, yet not to the point where they could harm her. After all, Jaclyn was borrowing her power from a creature who was regularly used as a chew toy by lions, so what was a dinky little shark going to do?


    As Jaclyn advanced, she noticed the environment change. The more classical coral reefs, all razor-sharp edges, and small hidey holes rapidly faded away into open ocean. Nowhere to put her feet when she wanted to stop actively swimming, but also nowhere for the sharks to hide. Instead, long and spindly things waved up from the bottom of the room, reminding her strangely of garden hoses.


    And when she brushed against it, she could feel her body react to it. A brief flash of heat at the point of contact, a strange ¡°warning¡± sensation, and that was it. Jaclyn wasn¡¯t hurt, but she could clearly tell that thing was toxic to some degree. Touch it and ... something happened. She didn¡¯t know what, and she really didn¡¯t want to.


    Either way, this place was a hellhole of legendary proportions. You couldn¡¯t touch anything without being hurt, there were creatures that could come from every direction, most spells she knew the Worldstrider Tribe to have access to wouldn¡¯t work down here, and honestly, she really wished her little Dungeon diving group had a second melee fighter.


    The only silver lining was that in its unfinished form, she was in a position to clear this section herself. And she was going to do her damndest to make sure she did that.


    As she continued to swim forward, she was already making plans for how to properly clear it later. Swimming goggleds for everyone involved were a must, obviously, some of those underwater propulsion unit things could be useful too, and what else? Maybe grenades to clear the area just underneath the drop? The police department didn¡¯t have any grenades other than flash bangs normally, but Frye could probably source them and even would, if she asked with a reasonable explanation for why she needed them.


    Maybe she could even get her hands on some harpoon guns? Like what she¡¯d seen in one of the old James Bond movies, but perhaps there was a more modern version that could fire more rapidly?


    Really, some proper gear, a few better-suited spells, and perhaps an Anima Monk bonded to a Killer Whale to boot? Hell, those sharks might be a good option too.


    Absurdly tough for their size, an infinitely regenerating maw full of teeth, skin like sandpaper, and proper aquatic mobility ¡­ it might work. The full package for operating in the water, and ridiculous toughness for general operations.


    The further Jaclyn got, the more adept she became at hitting the sharks and not letting herself get startled when one futility nipped at her trousers or, on one memorable occasion, her big toe. That last one, though, had been something of an idiot because with its chosen target, she could kick it without having to worry about just pushing it away. Her foot ripped through the top of its head with a mere twitch of her leg and that was the end of that particular paragon of stupidity.


    Soon afterwards, she turned the final corner and was faced with an area that was actually looking scary. The ceiling was low as hell, to the point where it dipped into the water and it would not allow her to surface to breathe.


    Jaclyn sighed. That section would be dangerous, but as long as she was careful and baited as many creatures as possible out from under the dangerous area, it should be doable.


    But when she dove down, making sure to keep her grasp on that poor projection she¡¯d dragged all over the place, there was nothing there. Just her, a path forward, and a little phantom dragon that wasn¡¯t doing much of anything now that it was too far from Gula for her to control it.


    And then she surfaced on the other side, coming face to face with a titanic muzzle ¡­ which promptly opened to give her a fantastic view at the gullet behind it, from where flames suddenly started pouring forth from.


    Oh, for the love of ¡­


    Jaclyn sucked in a huge gulp of breath before diving back under the waves, cursing.


    So close. So bloody close. She¡¯d seen the damn vial. But would she be able to handle that monster alone?


    The answer was a definite no.


    Yet she also doubted that the others would be of much use after swimming all the way here. And she¡¯d promised not to go into a new section alone.


    She wanted that bloody vial, damnit, and she¡¯d come so far. However, it wasn¡¯t worth her life, she knew that. But if she didn¡¯t try, what had all this been for?


    One try, she decided. One Hail Mary with very little risk to herself, and then she¡¯d retreat.


    So she dove down once more, making sure to emerge in a different spot than before, and hurled the Tatzelwymr with all the strength she could muster.


    Job done, she dove right back down and retreated, waiting on the other end of the low ceiling until she felt the dragon tyrannosaurus rex should be dead.


    As she returned, she could feel the burn of the drops of toxin that had made it into the water on her skin. It was an irritating prickling, but one she could ignore.


    She stuck her head out of the water, saw the corpse of the dino lying there, and flopped onto dry land like a piece of driftwood. Finally.


    Jaclyn tried to take this as a chance to rest up for a few seconds, but a loud screech told her she wasn¡¯t alone either. She shot to her feet and fell into a combat stance, fists raised, only to see a stupid little critter with flames flickering in its teeth.


    A dragon velociraptor?


    Either way, it all but exploded into gore and bone fragments when she kicked it. Low ranked, thankfully.


    Looking around, she could see half a dozen other similar creatures lying there, dead, killed by the blood of the Tatzelwyrm.


    Jaclyn sagged in relief and staggered over towards the plinth that held the fist-sized vial of potion, grabbed it, and slowly swam back outside ¡­ only to turn around briefly to look for the ladder. She¡¯d take the rope back up, of course, she really didn¡¯t feel like lugging something other than her prize back out, but she wanted to know if it was there.


    As it turned out, there was.


    But with that knowledge, she dragged herself back out, swam back through the ocean while fending off the handful of sharks she¡¯d missed on her first path through, and let herself get pulled up on the rope at the exit. Oh, finally. Fucking finally.


    Feeling dead on her feet, she ambled out with the others, barely willing to engage in conversation.


    ***


    Thomas watched the humans leave, following them with Jan.


    That last part had been really painful. The delvers¡¯ approach had been smart, of course, but just having their party¡¯s bruiser bull her way through everything had been way too simple.


    He sighed. Once again, there was a reason he¡¯d prioritized his spider monkeys, but that had been an absolute bloodbath in more than one way.


    And yet, he¡¯d been happy that Inspector Abrams and Granger had survived. He liked them, they were interesting and had cool ideas.


    The others, though, the ones who¡¯d almost died to the snakes several times ¡­ he felt nothing about them.


    Thomas knew it should bother him. But it simply ¡­ didn¡¯t. That was more than a little scary.


    When he thought of humans he disliked, like that cultivator, he wanted to hurt or even kill them. Human emotions, maybe a little on the bloody side, but still normal human feelings.


    And people he liked, he wanted to survive, build up a friendly relationship, etc. He didn¡¯t want to kill them, but he wouldn¡¯t be overly generous to them either, in the interest of appearing fair and impartial.


    Everyone else, though, he didn¡¯t really care. Live, die, waste away in a boring, soul-crushing profession, the only thing that really mattered was how they impacted him. Namely, if they could and would enter the Dungeon and explore, maybe even die for his empowerment, do something that benefited him, he¡¯d like that. But not them. Never them. They might as well be paper caricatures to him, or video game NPCs come to life.


    He could engage with them, he could deal with them, he could even be strategic within his dealings and empathize with them to understand their motives and act on that information, but anything beyond that ¡­ no.


    And while neutral indifference to strangers was a fairly normal thing, he¡¯d almost killed these strangers, and was feeling precisely nothing. And that was the most terrifying thing of all.


    Each of these realizations came like a wave, crashing down on him on the heels of the next as his mind just kept chugging on, revealing more and more dark truths even if he wished he could just shut it down.


    Just what had his transformation done to him?


    That ¡­ that was something that he¡¯d have to figure out, and soon.


    ***


    ¡°Oh, I almost forgot,¡± Granger said, turning around just before he opened the jeep¡¯s door and returned to the monkey. ¡°The actual uniforms you asked for aren¡¯t ready yet, but I figured you might like this.¡±


    With that, he reached into one of his coat pockets and produced a badly squished but still intact tiny fedora, which he then held out to the monkey Daedalus was communicating through.


    It accepted it and struck a few poses before fixing its gaze on Granger.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll have something very special for you next time,¡± the monkey said, sounding oddly distracted. Was everything alright with Daedalus?


    Then, it turned in Jaclyn¡¯s direction.


    ¡°And maybe, we¡¯ll be able to negotiate properly. Your people come to me, I come to your people, you stick me in whatever room you need to feel safe and give me a laptop that can run a video conference ¡­ if it works, I¡¯m down for it. Just make sure to hurry, I don¡¯t know how much time we have left until the dragon becomes a real problem.¡±


    And with that, the little critter scampered back into the Dungeon.


    Jaclyn watched it leave with mixed feelings. That thing was helpful, but it was also extremely dangerous, and even when it didn¡¯t require death to grow, it still needed to put people in danger of dying. A Dungeon would make for a wonderful ally, but it was plenty terrifying even if it wasn¡¯t an enemy.

 Chapter 53: Rebuilding

    The world was a weird place. It had always been odd, with unexplained phenomena up to wazoo, but with most of those, people with the necessary knowledge just hadn¡¯t bothered to investigate. There was an explanation, it just hadn¡¯t been found. Unexplained, not unexplainable.


    Unfortunately, Thomas was pretty sure he¡¯d figured out what was wrong with him, though.


    It was a beautiful theory, one that squared with everything he¡¯d learned from Elias and what he¡¯d overheard from everyone else.


    He just didn¡¯t like it. He didn¡¯t like it at all.


    His transformation had cost him more than just his ability to walk around on two legs. Obviously, this be helpful to funtion as a Dungeon that fed on the deaths of humans, which was a good thing if viewed from an entirely neutral, rational, and objective viewpoint, but since when was a human, any human, anywhere close to that?


    No, he didn¡¯t like this at all, and that was the understatement of the century. At this point, he felt like he was crawling out of his now-metaphorical skin, after all, he didn¡¯t have skin anymore. The loss of his body he¡¯d at least begun to compensate for by creating interesting creatures to inhabit, and amazing Avatars to play around with. Jan had freaking superpowers, for fuck¡¯s sake!


    And eventually, he¡¯d be able to create a human avatar. In theory. In practice, Thomas was planning on creating something well beyond that, a form whose Rank matched that of his car, holding several complementary powers that would allow it to match even the likes of the Inspector, should she reach that Rank as well.


    But his mind ¡­ that was something he could not abide being messed with, something he could neither fix nor compensate for. And how would he know if he¡¯d found the full extent of the changes?


    If things had been changed while also warping the framework of his mind to the point where the changes had been normalized? If his memories had been changed?


    Imagine, say, a ruler were shrunken. Not by enough to outright see the change with the change with the naked eye, but still to the point where any measurement made with it would no longer be correct. And you did not have another ruler, yardstick, or other tool for measuring around, nor anything whose size you knew off the top of your head to compare the ruler to. How would you be able to tell that the ruler was the wrong size?


    And that was exactly the issue he had now. Any conclusions he reached based on information that was suspect was therefore also suspect. Only that tiny part of his being related to empathy for people he didn¡¯t really have a relation to was obviously affected, yet a particularly paranoid part of his mind insisted that everything about him could have been changed.


    All around him, the Dungeon became more and more chaotic as though the various creatures within could sense his irritation. Then again, animals could supposedly predict natural disasters, and what was a pissed-off Dugeon but a natural disaster of epic proportions?


    ¡­ this was the dozenth time he¡¯d gone through this chain of ideas, every single time winding up in the exact same place.


    Part of my mind was changed.


    Everything else might have been changed.


    And I hate everything about that.


    On to trying to decipher the truth for the thirteenth time ¡­


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Elias finally took notice. It had both taken him a long time and no time at all to realize that there was an issue. He¡¯d slept like a log through much of Thomas¡¯ turmoil, but once he¡¯d woken up, he¡¯d picked up on the fact that there was a problem in moments.


    Thomas told him everything in a flood of conversation that he sincerely hoped Elias would still be able to understand.


    ¡°And?¡± Elias asked, sounding puzzled.


    ¡°AND!¡± Thomas snapped back, not quite understanding how dense the fairy was being.


    ¡°And what do you expect me to do about it?¡± Elias said. ¡°Your body was transformed, and your mind was affected too. Just a little. Did you really care about people you didn¡¯t know all that much before? Or are you trying to tell me that you cared about every single person you ever even laid eyes on?¡±


    Elias¡¯ ¡°pillow¡± threw him off in an instant as Thomas made his displeasure at the statement known.


    ¡°Look, I¡¯m serious. How much really changed for you? You used to care about strangers in the abstract, and now you don¡¯t care at all.¡±


    Thomas didn¡¯t respond verbally, and just mentally communicated the feeling of ¡°intensely furious glare¡± towards the fairy.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Elias sighed. ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Oh, do you now?¡± Thomas scoffed.


    ¡°You¡¯re angry at the intrusion,¡± Elias sighed. ¡°You don¡¯t feel secure in your own mind anymore.¡±


    Thomas just stayed silent.


    ¡°You know, you¡¯re a Dungeon. You¡¯re so different than any other being out there that controlling you is going to be literally impossible. That¡¯ll never happen again.¡±


    Thomas believed that Elias believed he was telling the truth. And yet ¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me that if the universe decides to break again, that I¡¯ll be safe?¡± Thomas asked sarcastically, unsure whether or not he managed to convey every ounce of disdain and disbelief he felt.


    Elias sighed and finally took to the air properly until he was hovering right in front of Thomas¡¯ crystal, the closest thing to a face-to-face conversation he could achieve.


    ¡°That was a once in the history of existence catastrophe. Something happened. Something bad. But if it ever reoccurs, it¡¯ll be in literally billions of years. This is the result of things happening beyond what even S-Rankers can influence. You might as well worry about if Dretolara will fall at some point and if the Creatures of the Void could even get here from that breach. The only thing that can change you is something you can¡¯t possibly affect, so why would you worry?¡±


    ¡°Creatures of the Void?¡± Thomas asked, choosing to focus on that over Elias¡¯ dismissive attitude.


    ¡°Weird monster things that we fought back home. Dangerous, but good for advancement. They can¡¯t really get far from where they enter reality, so we¡¯ll never see him here,¡± the fairy scratched his chin. ¡°What are some of the things you used to know were apocalyptically dangerous, but didn¡¯t worry about because you couldn¡¯t change it?¡±


    ¡°Nuclear armageddon caused by a computer glitch, ancient viruses from permafrost, pulsars, true vacuum, underground supervolcanoes, AI takeover ¡­ and I think half of those are just theories,¡± Thomas rattled off, before he caught himself and sent another ¡°glare¡± at the fairy.


    ¡°Are you seriously telling me I should just stop worrying?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d have put it differently, but yeah,¡± the fairy shrugged.


    ¡°And how, pray tell, would you have put it?¡± Thomas asked in a dangerously low voice.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Do something else, anything else, stop spinning out and distract yourself. It won¡¯t make the problem go away, but you really can¡¯t do anything to change the stuff you¡¯re worrying about. Take your mind off things, come to grips with the things that refuse to be forgotten, and then shove them to the back of your core.¡±


    Another ¡°glare¡±.


    ¡°You literally can¡¯t do anything except drive yourself crazy,¡± Elias reminded him.


    Ah yes, absolute rationality. Won-der-ful.


    Elias was right, but quite frankly, supremely unhelpful.


    Thomas might have decided against using the skunk he¡¯d found in the archives out of general human decency, but right now, he felt like simply telling Elias to get out and leave him alone for a while was too mild a method ¡­


    ***


    Thomas was still in a foul mood several hours later, but decided to try and follow Elias¡¯ advice. In theory, it might not be the best idea to build a Dungeon while feeling murderous, at least not for the delvers, but in practice, he did need to take his mind off things.


    Up first was, of course, the issue of his unranked critters. He needed to bring them up to F-Rank at the very least but he¡¯d utterly annihilated the local beast populations to create Jan. And using delvers would result in at least two or even three more ¡°easy¡± wins for them, as leveling creatures just by having them fight humans without managing to kill any wasn¡¯t particularly profitable.


    And asking people to power them up but not go after the vial of supremely valuable potion just felt ¡­ unworkable. Utterly unworkable. He¡¯d have to force them, somehow. In a way that did not involve kidnapping, or anything else that would bring down the wrath of the government and humanity in general on his head.


    Thomas took control of a nearby spider monkey just so he could have a physical body to facepalm with.


    Decision made, he began to reshuffle the entire Dungeon concept, starting with the entrance hall. The floor sunk down and water began to flood the room, only leaving a narrow winding path for the delvers to take.


    This would be his Evolution Chamber. An easy room that people would have to fight through, no matter what, one he could fill with whatever the hell he wanted, or rather, the specific critters he needed to get to a usable rank.


    Right now, that meant it was filled with dwarf crocodiles, pajama catsharks, and velociraptors. The last creature type wasn¡¯t necessary, strictly speaking, but he wanted to upgrade them.


    He already had two upgraded versions, the draconic F-Rank version and one that was E-Rank but entirely useless for combat since its two powers were Dungeon Avatar and Inoffensive Existence, the latter of which made them look cute and fluffy while also weakening their offensive potential.


    The ¡°fluffy raptors¡± were there because he thought they were cute and because they were going to be used as in-Dungeon avatars when Jan was out.


    And the Dragon-raptors were just plain awesome.


    But Thomas wanted some raptors that actually looked like raptors, so he¡¯d create yet another version of that pattern.


    So, that was the entrance hall done.


    On a whim, he also decided to alter the room to the right of the entrance, which currently still held the museum¡¯s biggest store. He removed all the knick-knacks, added some soil and grass, and filled it with simple, basic, unranked critters for people to cut their teeth on. A few wolverines, some Oryx antelopes, and a regular hippo as a mini-boss.


    Slap on a sign above the door that read ¡°THE CRADLE (no loot, just XP)¡±.


    Five minutes of work created a slapdash mess, but it was only for the noobiest of noobs. Something to attract people just starting out, ensuring that most of the supernaturals in England would become familiar with his Dungeon if they had any kind of combat Class.


    The rest of the ¡°main¡± Dungeon got quite a bit more care. In fact, it was completely restructured.


    First, the entirety of the dinosaur section and the Mammal Gallery were merged into a new massive room, with several pillars placed inside to limit the range of both gun-users and the two camarasauruses he had in there. He also added two of the draconic rexes, with one big dino in each corner of the room, from where they¡¯d emerge if people got too close.


    Then, Thomas filled out the rest of the remade dino section with scolosauruses and dragon raptors. His small dinosaurs, in other words, with him preparing to add more as he got them.


    Decorating the room was really fun. Giant ferns, towering horsetails, crystal clear ponds, oh, it was something straight out of Walking with Dinosaurs.


    And to add the finishing touches, he decorated the short corridor that led from the entrance hall to the dinosaur room with pre-dinosaur fossils and a few informative plaques about the Earth¡¯s early history.


    Secondly, Thomas remodeled Mammal Hall into Cheshire¡¯s boss room. It was much of the same, with perfectly smooth floors and sacks of sand that would only be provided to those who weren¡¯t a threat to him.


    He did make one big change. Covering smooth marble with water made it slippery as fuck hell, sure, but what would make it even slicker, didn¡¯t evaporate nearly as quickly, and could be found in the kitchen¡¯s deep fryer?


    Admittedly, that particular batch of frying oil did smell a little like old french fries, so he used one of the unopened bottles from the storage room, but all in all ¡­ Thomas laughed an evil laugh as he imagined the face of the first person who tried to keep their balance on that shit.


    And, of course, he added another set of information plaques and interesting pictures in the connecting corridor.


    From there, Thomas turned the first underground room into a chamber of prehistoric mammals, namely, giant sloths and sabertooth tigers, with the staircase holding even more information.


    The next chamber held his modern critters, starting out mountainous with wolverines and small hyraxes around every corner. Then, it transformed into a jungle with tigers on the ground and jaguars in the canopy, until it eventually transitioned into a swampy area that held hippos. He¡¯d eventually probably add crocodiles too.


    And then, finally, he added Dexter¡¯s boss room, giving the giant sloth all the space he could possibly need. Though his current plan was to, ever so often, swap him and Cheshire so that both could grow.


    At the next staircase after that, he put a ¡°do not enter¡± sign, as that was where his personal area began, anyone who tried would be confronted by a ¡°private, no mercy beyond this point¡± sign, and if they ignored that as well, the gloves would absolutely come off.


    Not only was there a connection to the water in the panacea section that he could open at will, unleashing a crushing force of water whenever he needed to, but he also had a bunch more progressively nastier tricks. False ceilings full of snakes that he could dump on an unsuspecting enemy, quicksand, actual tatzelwyrms in a room full of sharp edges, and a ton of his strongest creatures.


    He was still limited by his rules as a Dungeon, namely, not being able to create ¡°absolute¡± barriers, but everything else was fair game, until he was satisfied.


    That then left his final area, his problem child. The ¡°Panacea Run¡±.


    The snake area was fine, and the ocean was going to soon gain appropriately-ranked critters.


    As for the boss room, the Inspector clearing it with a single attack had stung, but honestly, Thomas was willing to let her have that. If someone got that far without ¡°wasting¡± their ultimate attack, he¡¯d let them use it.


    But that left the swamp section. He still kinda liked the concept, but the execution ¡­ whoof. Not good.


    First, he made connections between every pool. Aboveground connections that would not allow water to be exchanged, but let crocodiles travel to reinforce the other pools.


    And then he added more hippos, along with deciding to develop yet another crocodile variant which also held the tatzelwyrm¡¯s legacy, though he¡¯d make sure that it was clearly identifiable for the delvers.


    That particular area wouldn¡¯t be too tough for a while yet, but it would be improving.


    Besides, he¡¯d pained a sign above the entrance to the Panacea Run that read ¡°Currently unavailable, loot generation in process¡±. That should buy him enough time to upgrade his creatures.


    Then there was the rope that had negated his nastiest preparation, the one-way drop. The counter to it was obvious. All he had to do was create a few ¡°blades¡± against the floor people would jump off of. Any rope that would be used to pull someone up would rest against that rock, and be pressed against the blade once someone¡¯s weight rested on it. Simple.


    And yet, the more he thought about it, the less mad he was about what had happened, and would likely continue to happen.


    Yes, they¡¯d beaten him, but they¡¯d done so fair and square. He¡¯d been so enamored with the tricky design that he¡¯d forgotten about the eternal joke about how a rope was the most important piece of gear one could ever bring onto an adventure.


    Not to mention that the rope wasn¡¯t so much a hard counter as it was a bargain. Entirely by accident, he¡¯d set things up so that there was nowhere up there to anchor a rope to. The only way to tie it up required someone to stay up there and anchor the rope with their body weight and maybe by digging their heels in within the dirt in the jungle section.


    One person, no matter how strong, would never be enough. They¡¯d simply be too light to pull someone up. The dirt wasn¡¯t particularly tough and therefore wouldn¡¯t hold up particularly well, and as for the bare stone section, it wasn¡¯t as bad as Cheshire¡¯s boss room, but it was still smooth marble. Not much traction to be had unless you were a gecko or something.


    And if there was someone with a gecko power, they would be able to walk up the wall anyway. At that point, Thomas would be willing to chalk it up to bad luck on his part and let it go unless it was abused.


    Ultimately, if there was a group willing to split up to make sure that they didn¡¯t have to make it to the end to be able to escape, that was their choice to make, their chance to take.


    So he left things as it was, trusting that his soon-to-be-upgraded creatures would be enough. And now that he¡¯d done that, he finally felt ready to send out Jan to search for a good spot to put his first sub-core.

 Chapter 54: New Ground

    Honestly, Elias had been right. And Thomas would never, ever, tell him that.


    He couldn¡¯t, not after how he¡¯d reacted to the advice he¡¯d gotten. Sure, it had been an absolutely assholish piece of advice, but ¡°stop worrying your pretty little head about it¡± had been the only thing he could do.


    Even if using denial as a coping strategy was just about the worst strategy for dealing with one¡¯s emotions, and the advice had been given in an epically blunt way.


    But while he¡¯d been messing around with his Dungeon, he hadn¡¯t really been thinking about any of the things previously weighing him down. Of course, those feelings had come straight back the moment he¡¯d thought about how much better his mental state was.


    And this would probably rinse and repeat every time he¡¯d completed a task.


    Speaking of distractions, he was currently riding along with Jan, directly steering the monkey, who was currently wearing a child-sized fanny pack Thomas had found, through the ruins of the Science Museum.


    It, and the Natural History Museum were technically in the same building, with the Science Museum filling up an area made up of entirely modern construction, but the latter had not survived the merge particularly well. As in, not at all. A ton of trees had grown right underneath it, obliterating not only that particular museum but every building within a hundred meters of Thomas¡¯ current home¡¯s backside.


    He¡¯d tried looking a few times, of course, however, he hadn¡¯t had monsters that he could fully control outside his realm, so the searches had been somewhat cursory. So he¡¯d been left with the hope that he just hadn¡¯t looked hard enough,


    But maybe Jan could create a subcore and as per the System¡¯s description of how subcores worked, he¡¯d get appropriate defenders. In a museum that contained many of the greatest technological achievements of humanity, would that create sci-fi combat androids or just steampunk mad-science monsters?


    So Thomas tried, even sending the monkey into a small hole he¡¯d located after an hour of searching, however, all that he found was the rotten remains of the cafeteria. And even those had just been one half-crushed hamburger and a toppled-over soft drink fridge.


    Neither of those was enough to let him designate the ruins as a ¡°museum¡± and create a subcore.


    When his hope died, so did his ability to be distracted, and the anger returned, a simmering ball of resentment and worry burning in his gut.


    From that point onwards, it was almost as though he became obsessed with staying busy and distracted. As though his mind went ¡°am I distracted¡± every time he wasn¡¯t one hundred percent focused on something else, and from the realization that there was something to be distracted from, it was only a short step to remembering that particular issue.


    Over and over again.


    But he kept at it, kept working, constantly diving into the various patterns he had at his fingertips. Specifically, the various brochures and subway plans he¡¯d found scattered all over.


    The brochures were meant for tourists such as himself, meaning they treated the reader as though they didn¡¯t know anything about the city, providing exact information about which subway station was closest to a given attraction, and exactly how to reach the attraction from the station.


    He also had several up-to-date maps of the city¡¯s subway. He knew that the closest station to his current location was South Kensington, on the Piccadilly Line, South-East of the main entrance


    And from there, he could just send Jan along the tracks in the direction of Cockfosters until he came to Russell Square Station, and then go searching in the South-Western direction until he found either the museum, or its ruins. Or at least something that could hold the sub-core.


    In theory, Thomas could have used one of the massive, old-fashioned maps of the city and a compass to navigate his way over aboveground, but the jungle was dangerous enough for little critters like Jan even when they weren¡¯t distracted by navigation implements.


    But the subway, or tube, as it was known in London, was a straight shot to where he needed to go, and hopefully, the jungle transposed onto the city had a shortage of underground critters. Hell, he just hoped that the ground under the city hadn¡¯t been merged with the ground of the jungle and that the tunnels were still there.


    There was a lot of hoping involved in this planning, but very little actual risk. It didn¡¯t matter if Jan died, where he died, or even if he just got stuck. Thomas could always just resummon him, though that would destroy the current iteration out there, with ¡°iteration¡± referring purely to the body, not the mind.


    Literally, the worst thing that could happen was that the whole thing was a waste of time, and Thomas had nothing but time. He was a Dungeon Core, barely able to take actions beyond his walls, so he had to wait for problems and allies to come to him. Therefore, he was pretty free to do what he wanted as long as the things he needed to do were done.


    And he had finished everything. He¡¯d created a place for his unranked creatures to evolve, he¡¯d created two different difficulty areas as well as the hellish run on the panacea, and after considering things for a long moment, he¡¯d even added changing rooms and showers to the entrance hall, just to the left of the main door. A few creature comforts should make his relationship with his delvers just that tiny bit less terrible.


    But enough about his past ¡°achievements¡±, he was on an adventure!


    Finding South Kensington station was pretty easy, especially when Elias mentioned that he¡¯d found a place with a whole lot of snacks down there. Snacks that Thomas remembered as having been available when he¡¯d left the subway station. The fairy had led Jan to his now-empty snack bar, and from there, digging out the staircase was as simple as sending out a giant sloth to rip up a few trees, revealing a dark but largely intact staircase.


    Sure, there was the occasional crack in the wall, and a single solitary chunk of concrete lay on the ground, but all in all, it wasn¡¯t a complete disaster zone.


    And then, the creepy part began.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Humans were no longer used to complete darkness, outside of being in the middle of nowhere in the desert somewhere, or perhaps out in the ocean, far from shore, there were always sources of light somewhere, even in the darkest parts of the night. Streetlamps, usually, but also cars¡¯ headlamps and so on.


    Hell, in his old apartment, Thomas had outright not bothered to switch on his light when going to the toilet at night, the light falling in through the windows had been more than enough.


    But down there lay absolute blackness, the kind of oppressive lack of illumination normally only found in deep caves or abandoned mine shafts, where the only possible source of light was the explorers themselves, and if they weren¡¯t casting their flashlight or lantern on something in particular, it might as well not exist.


    And he could see that at the bottom of the escalator shaft, that kind of blackness began.


    Even though he wasn¡¯t even there in person, nor in any kind of danger, the thought of going down there was terrifying.


    Thomas had figured out a while ago that basic flashlights still worked, so he¡¯d packed several of those, as well as a few temporary summoning tokens for draconic velociraptors. But even that seemed like a fragile shield against what he was about to enter.


    The first thing he used was one of the tokens, though. A tiny velociraptor appeared, then it opened its jaws, as directed by Thomas via Jan, and began to bring forth a flame. It didn¡¯t breathe fire, though, just held the flame in the back of its throat, casting a low glow in front of it.


    Both of his creatures had a little difficulty navigating the stairs, which were obviously not sized for them, so the whole ordeal turned into something truly worthy of a slapstick comedy shtick, hopping down every stair while trying to sufficiently keep their balance to not topple forwards, but they didn¡¯t always manage it.


    Of course, the critters were more than capable of absorbing the damage of tumbling down the stairs, so he felt secure in being able to laugh without feeling like an awful person.


    And then they finally reached the bottom. Finding directions proved rather difficult without the usual glowing red signs explaining which direction contained what direction, but between the flashlight and firelight, he eventually found the relevant track. The one leading to the end station of Cockfosters. It was juvenile as fuck, but that name made Thomas laugh every time.


    From there, Jan led the way to the track ¡­ leaving Thomas with a bit of a problem. Which way did the subway run? Left to right, or right to left, looking at the track from the platform?


    He was pretty sure there was a correct answer, something that was true for the entire network outside of a few exceptions, but he didn¡¯t know it. So, left, or right?


    Or rather, should he just pick one and keep going until he reached the next station, at which point he¡¯d know whether or not he¡¯d gone the right way? It was an option, and probably wouldn¡¯t even be that big of a waste of time, but it just felt wrong. He wanted to figure this out.


    He was sure he¡¯d realized which direction the trains came from at some point, but promptly filed that piece of information away as useless and forgotten it.


    The trains he was used to came from the right side, but that didn¡¯t necessarily mean that the trains here did the same. Then again, back home, people also drove on the right side of the road. The British drove on the left side of the road, however, could he make a claim about this ¡°transferring¡± onto the subway, somehow?


    Honestly, he might have kept going for quite a while on this weird train of thought until he noticed the flashlight glinting of something in the distance. Upon closer observation, that turned out to be a signal akin to a traffic light which let the train driver know whether the tracks were clear for them.


    So, obviously, that was the way the train usually drove, from left to right.


    He directed both critters to hop down onto the track and advance.


    Thomas briefly thought about it, and then had Jan try and ride the raptor. He was very big compared to his ride, admittedly, but still, the raptor was quite a bit stronger than it would be in non-magical nature.


    So it worked. The large monkey was teetering on the raptor that weighed barely as much as it did, but it worked. And off they went, not even needing a flashlight.


    ¡­ at least until the raptor mount began to sag, looking more than a little exhausted, so Jan summoned a second raptor to play gas lamp and replacement ride, and when that wasn¡¯t enough, he walked for a bit with a flashlight.


    The darkness grew even stronger down here as even the most distant bit of sunlight had long since faded away, prompting Thomas to have a proverbial heart attack when he saw something in the distance. Jan moving only a single step closer revealed that it was a stalled train car.


    He sighed in relief ¡­ until he remembered that there should have been people inside when the change had hit.


    Carefully, Thomas had Jan clamber up to the window and stare inside, revealing an empty car. Well, they were probably dead, in that case. They couldn¡¯t have made their way out alive. And yet, could they have survived down here, in the dark, for so long?


    It wasn¡¯t something he could do anything about, though. So he sent his creatures onwards, carefully clambering past and almost managed to put the mess out of his mind ¡­ that¡¯s when he found the body. It was half-eaten by rats or the like, as far as he could tell, but Thomas could still tell what had happened. The woman had tripped or been pushed, then hit her head, and that had been the end, especially in this situation.


    Fuck.


    Once again, though, nothing he could do. Perhaps he could come back later, retrieve the ID card or another form of identification, and burn the corpse? He sure as hell couldn¡¯t do that now, though, smoke in an enclosed space was a bad idea.


    Continuing onwards, the stench of rot grew stronger and stronger, showing more bodies. There was no big cluster of dead, but the further people had gotten, the more exhausted they¡¯d been, and the more mistakes had been made. A broken leg or even just a twisted ankle was a death sentence down here, and things were far too dark to let people even help each other properly.


    Shortly after finding the tenth body, his creatures reached Knightsbridge station, letting him know that he was definitely on the correct path. But for obvious reasons, he didn¡¯t feel much like celebrating that fact, not with the current situation.


    This scene repeated itself twice more before he reached Russell Square, with empty train cars having died on the track, people trying to escape in the dark, and some having failed.


    Even putting the gruesome images of rot and rat feedings aside, it was quite fucked up.


    But eventually, he did reach his target, and sent his critters to the surface. From there, it was a simple matter of Jan whipping out a compass and beginning his short march to the target.


    Here, trees were also towering overhead, and buildings had been cracked or broken where greenery had sprouted straight through them. More jungle, and one with quite a few more critters than around his home base.


    Then, Thomas had Jan facepalm and then sent the monkey back up into the foliage. After all, he was a monkey, built for swinging around the jungle in ways that Tarzan could only dream of.


    That made Jan move quite a bit faster until he spotted a building with a green roof and a dome in the middle of said roof. That had to be it, right? Thomas had never seen the British museum from above, but that had to be it, right, since he knew there were mostly residential buildings around it.


    It was stupidly simple to get inside, all Jan had to do was drop onto the roof, then scamper to the center of the roof and drop down there. After all, Thomas remembered a large circular window around the dome from when he¡¯d been in the museum and those windows had been busted at some point during the merge.


    And then, he sent Jan right towards the central reading room, under the dome, which he knew to be perfect as a core room.


    From there, things were as simple as mentally flicking a switch. A ball of energy appeared between Jan¡¯s hands, growing brighter and brighter until it was blinding to look at, so the monkey closed his eyes, but even that wasn¡¯t enough soon, so he had to turn away.


    For a few seconds, Thomas even missed the end of the process, it was completely sudden, and yet, the state afterwards felt completely normal and natural. Jan was holding a crystal sphere, and Thomas¡¯ available domain had just doubled. Mission accomplished.


    But what creatures had he gotten for the new Museum?

 Chapter 55: Crypt Guardian

    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    You have used your ability to create a Subcore in [British Museum].


    Number of uses at current rank remaining: 0


    Subcore Type has been determined as [History¡¯s Guardians]


    A domain has been automatically established and now covers the entirety of the building, and the archives below it. A Subcore¡¯s domain will only increase when the Main Core increases in Rank.


    Would you like to see the full list of creatures created by this Subcore?


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    There was only one answer to that and that answer was hell to yes!


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    You have received the following patterns as part of your new Subcore and Sub-Dungeon:


    Crypt Guardian


    Feline Guardian


    Guardian Bull


    Marble Hoplite


    Shattering Poltergeist


    Spiritus Machina


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Huh. That was ¡­ less informative than he¡¯d expected. And he wasn¡¯t entirely sure what many of those were. Or where exactly they were referring to.


    So he started to look at the patterns, and at least the identity first half of the creatures on the list became clear.


    Mummies.


    But they weren¡¯t the mummies of 20<sup>th</sup>-century horror movies, or the real dead of Ancient Egypt, which had been unburied by Europeans millennia later, and subsequently either ground up for medicine or unwrapped during high-class parties as entertainment.


    No, these were ¡­ if Thomas had to really describe these things, he¡¯d have described them as how someone would have drawn a mummy, if they¡¯d only had a rough description of what mummies and mummification were and been told they were undead warriors, instead of merely people buried in a specific way.


    Actually, perhaps that was exactly what they were. After all, they weren¡¯t listed as ¡°human mummy¡±, ¡°cat mummy¡±, and ¡°bull mummy¡±, but variations on ¡°guardians¡±.


    The same way that the marble hoplite seemed to be some kind of animated statue, but it wasn¡¯t one he¡¯d ever seen. There were plenty of Greek marble statues in the British Museum, but not the one he had there.


    And the Shattering Poltergeist seemed to be a reference to the collection of Asian pottery.


    These creature patterns had been directly provided by the System, had he just been given stuff that seemed similar to what could already be found in the Museum?


    However, as much fun as it would be to keep rolling this idea around in his head for a few hours more, continuously running in circles until something broke him out of the loop, Thomas suspected there was a way to find answers.


    ¡°Hey Elias, what do you know about Crypt Guardians?¡± he asked innocently. As far as he knew, the fairy hadn¡¯t left his home planet much, but he¡¯d still amassed quite a wealth of knowledge. If these things were common, Elias would at least know something.


    ¡°Uh ¡­ run!¡±


    Yes, that had been an answer, but not one that really helped all that much.


    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Thomas asked, more puzzled than anything else.


    ¡°That means, you get Jan out of there before I explain anything else because if you don¡¯t, you¡¯ll have to send him all the way out there again,¡± Elias explained.


    Thomas sighed. ¡°That¡¯s not why I¡¯m asking.¡±


    ¡°¡­ Right,¡± Elias said slowly. ¡°Crypt Guardians are undead defenders of crypts. The bodies of soldiers or bodyguards get transformed and revived and then they fight against intruders. First, they¡¯re treated to not rot, and then they get wrapped with magical cloth, but there are a ton of magical talismans stuck in between the linens.


    ¡°And depending on how much effort you put into the guardian, they can get really nasty. There are versions that have a dozen different magical effects attached to amulets that they can hurl around, others have all their organs removed, placed in jars, and then, when the Guardian is destroyed, a jar breaks instead.¡±


    Elias continued to explain more, compounding on animal-based guardians, various enchantment tricks, the advantages of being able to instantly recover from damage, and more besides. Interesting, but there was one point that Thomas felt compelled to ask for clarification on.


    ¡°Are the guards ¡­ alive when that happens?¡± he asked, carefully.


    Elias shook his head. ¡°If there aren¡¯t enough people who died honorably in the line of duty, there are always individuals willing to sacrifice themselves. ¡®Vo-lun-teers¡¯.¡±


    The fairy put as much sarcasm into the last word as Thomas would have.


    The culture behind that practice sounded quite pleasant. Much like how the Ancient Egyptians sometimes buried slaves alive when a Pharao died.


    And it seemed that by now, the penny had dropped for the fairy.


    ¡°You got one, didn¡¯t you?¡± he asked. Those are damn strong, but Dungeons only get the baseline model, with only the animating charms, you¡¯ll need to pay extra to add any charms you have. And the extra lives from external organs double the cost for a guardian, and they count double against your control limit.¡±


    On and on went Elias. Again.


    The whole thing basically boiled down to Thomas needing to get his hands on more Crypt Guardian-specific amulets, and that there were arguments to be made both for a large number of creepy Guardians or a handful of undying ones.


    Namely, a larger army would be able to do more damage, but undying Guardians were devastating as hell. Specifically, killing them would give delvers precisely zero breathing room as they¡¯d just reform right where they¡¯d died. However, too few Guardians, and they¡¯d just be focussed down by the delvers, hammered by spells and arrows to the point where they were obliterated the moment they reformed.


    In other words, it was a delicate balance to strike.


    While Elias blathered on, Thomas decided to look at the status sheets themselves. He normally didn¡¯t, since he knew what powers he¡¯d given to his critters by heart, but he hadn¡¯t designed these.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Species: Crypt Guardian


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    D-Rank


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Powers


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Crypt Guardian¡¯s Undead Constitution


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Arcane Bandages


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Curse Touch


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    empty


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    This thing was D-Rank? It made sense when approached from the angle that he¡¯d gotten it at D-Rank, so logically, it¡¯d match his Rank, and this was one of those creatures that didn¡¯t exist in an unranked form, since it needed a power to funtion in the first place.


    It also had a full set of abilities, which put somewhat of a damper on things. The first one, the constitution, was a must-have, obviously, and the ability to whip out bandages and use them to bind an enemy, as he interpreted the E-Rank power, was powerful as well.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    However, the last one was kinda ¡­ garbage, compared to what Thomas would have added. Curse Touch was a debuffing power that would afflict the victim with a magical plague upon being touched by the Mummy- er, Crypt Guardian¡¯s, hand. Average power, highly delayed lethality, limited range ¡­ it was strong and fit the theme, but a Tatzelwyrm¡¯s power would have been so much better.


    Even if his creation had been limited to only applying the effect on contact with the hands, one of the supernatural effects of Tatzelwyrm blood was that it soaked through stuff nigh-instantaneously. It would travel along the shaft of a wooden lance in under a second, and just like that, it could be projected along the full length of a cloth wrapping faster than an enemy could struggle free of their bindings.


    Normally, this would be the part where Thomas just went ahead and grabbed the monster¡¯s pattern of a previous rank, leveleed it up again, and granted it the power he wanted it to have. But he didn¡¯t have those patterns. He¡¯d gotten the Crypt Guardian at D-Rank, so that was his weakest pattern.


    ¡­ no, that wasn¡¯t fair, he¡¯d just gotten several D-Ranked patterns handed to him, creatures that even his Champions, which were still at E-Rank, might struggle with. Even if they weren¡¯t optimized how he¡¯d have liked them to be, they were still cool as hell. He loved them already, and he¡¯d only looked at one pattern.


    But before he got distracted and left the museum undefended, he filled it with as many Crypt Guardians as he could, a stopgap measure until he could prepare an informed defense.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Species: Feline Crypt Guardian


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    D-Rank


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Powers


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Guardian¡¯s Undead Constitution


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Environmental Bandaging


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Ruinous Bite


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    empty


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    The second pattern belonged to the cat mummy. It had the same constitution as the Crypt Guardian, but its bandage control was focussed on stringing bandages up in the environment, both providing walkways for the undead cat and impediments for hostiles. And Ruinous Bite was good, causing necrosis in anything it bit while applying the same curse the Crypt Guardian¡¯s touch would.


    Admittedly, Thomas would have gone for a power based on the horrifically nasty venom of the Fer de Lance, but that would barely have made a difference.


    Either way, that thing was neat, and he still had a third ¡°mummy¡± to look at.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Species: Guardian Bull


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    D-Rank


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Powers


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Guardian¡¯s Undead Constitution


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Self-Repair


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Annihilating Charge


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    empty


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    The Guardian Bull was the tank of the Guardian trio. A constitution power, a regeneration power, and a charge attack that would toss away enemies upon contact while, once again, cursing them.


    Once again, that wasn¡¯t quite how Thomas would have done it, the same mass-increasing power that boosted Dexter¡¯s fists would have been his preference. But he wasn¡¯t nearly as annoyed as he had been about the Crypt Guardian itself.


    Oh, the fun he¡¯d have with these critters ¡­ and the others, of course.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Species: Marble Hoplite


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    D-Rank


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Powers


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Marble Constitution


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Phalanx March


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Stoneformed Bulwark


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    empty


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    The Marble Hoplite was awesome. A constitution power that allowed the statue to live and move, a second power that would protect the Hoplite from attacks based on how many other Hoplites were around it, and finally, an ability that allowed them to manifest stone pillars from the ground.


    The process was slow, but they were durable as hell and the power seemed to be designed for creating chokepoints. And even if it wasn¡¯t, that was how Thomas would use it.


    He¡¯d have to design their room around these powers, though.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Species: Shattering Poltergeist


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    D-Rank


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Powers


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Spectral Constitution


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Bonded Telekinesis


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Splinter Bomb


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    empty


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    And then there was this thing. Yet another constitution, which seemingly every creature in this group had, though this one was a little different. A sentient mass of energy immune to direct physical attacks, though vulnerable to mana- and power-based attacks. In theory.


    In practice, it turned out that this thing needed to bond to a whole bunch of ceramics, one of which it would find itself inside, though it could switch homes at the drop of a hat. And it had telekinetic control over these ceramics, able to hurl them about the place, once they broke, they¡¯d reappear in a few seconds, but if the one it was in was destroyed, so was the Poltergeist. Thomas strongly suspected that the minimum Rank for this creature was E, where they¡¯d have both their constitution and ¡°home¡±.


    Splinter Bomb, meanwhile, was exactly what it sounded like. Whatever the Poltergeist threw exploded. Violently.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Species: Spiritus Machina


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    D-Rank


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Powers


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Spectral Constitution


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Inorganic Possession


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Possessive Restoration


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    empty


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    And finally, this was something else. On its own, the Spiritus Machina was utterly useless on its own. But it could animate objects on its own, both mechanical machines, and anything designed to be moved by others. Such as swords, uniforms, and the like.


    This was another creature that likely had to exist at E-Rank, minimum, with the combination of its Constitution and its ability to possess objects being what made it what it was.


    Depending on the exact ¡°shell¡±, the Spiritus would have certain abilities, but also weaknesses. Specifically, they would die if their shell was destroyed, or if an exposed part of their body was struck by a supernatural attack, and the attack wouldn¡¯t even have to be that powerful.


    For example, a sword being used as a shell would create a spectral figure wielding the sword, except the figure was vulnerable as all get out. One hit to any part of that body and that¡¯d be it. But they¡¯d be fast. Very fast.


    Armor or clothing, on the other hand, might prevent direct destruction via the exploitation of that weakness, but the shell itself could be destroyed directly using even perfectly mundane or supernatural but underpowered tricks.


    And something really solid, like plate armor, might not be as easy to completely destroy, but it could be separated. All someone would have to do was rip off the helmet and move it far enough away from the main body to tear the Spiritus in half, thereby killing it.


    These things could also be combined if their shells belonged together, like an armor-possessing Spiritus wielding a sword-Spiritus, doubling the attack power of the combination.


    All that being said, though, their real value would come from being able to possess machines, like the various stuff Thomas knew he¡¯d find at the Imperial War Museum when he finally got around to installing a subcore there. And until then, these creatures would make for utterly invaluable tokens for delvers looking to get the subway cars moving again. Or save on gas for their regular cars, for that matter.


    And who was to say that with enough of these, he couldn¡¯t get the Belfast moving again? The light cruiser moored on the Thames certainly cut a striking figure, though it might be a step too far. That thing had guns with a range of fourteen miles, making it a threat to even the things beyond the jungle. The government might get a teensy bit mad if he reactivated it.


    But other than that and the distance from his Dungeons, there wasn¡¯t an issue. ¡°Possessive Regeneration¡± was a supremely weird name, and he was damn near certain it was meant to be the other way around, but ultimately, that wasn¡¯t what this was about. The important thing was what it did, and that the power worked.


    This particular ability would allow the Spiritus to regenerate its shell, restoring consumables, ammunition, and the like, while also fixing damage. Even if that damage was a warship being retrofitted to serve as a museum.


    Oh, the things he could get up to with these new creatures ¡­ but first, he had to settle something. Namely, how could he protect all these priceless treasures?


    The obvious solution was to just absorb them, get the patterns, and then create as many as he needed.


    And yet ¡­ that felt wrong. Like he was destroying the original, and just creating a copy. An exact copy, down to the last molecule, but a copy nonetheless. Which felt, well, wrong.


    Would he have to move all of these things by hand now, just because he was feeling a little neurotic?


    Thomas sighed, had every spider monkey in his Dungeon simultaneously facepalm, and tried to come up with something good. What about using Spiritus Machinae to animate the subway trains, and using those to move stuff?


    That was a possibility, but it¡¯d take forever. And he¡¯d have to pack everything up first.


    Then, he had a lightbulb moment. What if he could temporarily ¡°store¡± the pattern the way he did with his champions during the creation, pulling them into his core and spitting it back out in his main Dungeon?


    He considered it for a moment, and then went ahead and tried it, using a random vase that didn¡¯t look too important or unique. He used the Sub-Core to pull it inside himself, then spat it back out in his main core room. It shattered ¡­ because he¡¯d manifested it next to his core, several centimeters above the floor, like an idiot.


    After another orgy of facepalms, Thomas absorbed the shards, merged the patterns to create an intact vase, and placed that on the floor. Admittedly, he¡¯d just gained the permanent pattern, making that one of a potentially infinite number of copies, but at least it wasn¡¯t gone forever.


    Even so, proof of concept achieved, he could now start zapping everything over. Sure, he had to spend quite a bit of time digging out the space and making sure it was adequate for museum pieces, but felt it was worth it.


    And actually, it turned out to actually be more than just ¡°fine¡±. He gained information every time a piece passed through him, including the order of the Benin Bronzes, bronze plaques that had apparently been taken from the area of modern-day Nigeria. They were a historical record of the ancient kingdom, but they weren¡¯t numbered or the like, so their order wasn¡¯t known, making them nigh-impossible to read.


    But now, for the first time in literal centuries, someone knew how to properly display them. That was cool. So cool, in fact, that he had to recall Jan just so the monkey could walk up and down in front of the wall of plaques, pretending to be a researcher or something, studying the historical sight.


    Thomas tore himself away soon enough, though, and began to create a proper defense of his new museum.

 Chapter 56: The Grand Design

    This was going to be an absolute masterpiece when Thomas was done with it. Or so he hoped.


    The first step was simple. All he had to do was maximize the distance between the entrance and the core, a process that obviously involved ensuring that it wasn¡¯t going to be as easy to access the museum as taking advantage of the broken skylight. So Thomas replaced it with meters-thick diamond, taking full advantage of the durability of dungeon construction to hold up the immense weight. The crystal was tough, far stronger than the handful of forms of armored glass he had access to, and the cost was hardly an issue for him.


    To quote one of his favorite TV shows, they were merely ¡°carbon molecules lined up in the most boring way¡±. Perfectly mundane materials in a simple pattern, with the only cost stemming from the mass of the material, rather than any innate magic or complexity.


    And from there, things were just a matter of throwing up a few walls, preventing people from advancing into the courtyard directly, or turning left to the south stairs, instead sending them to the right. There, they¡¯d have to complete an entire circuit around the courtyard until they truly reached the South Stairs, where they¡¯d have to do yet another circuit, walking the same path they had before, just one story up.


    The labyrinthian exhibits on the Western side, though, he left those as they were, funneling people through them for ¡°Education¡± experience, as opposed to one gained by ¡°Challenge¡±.


    Except this time around, the circuit would not be complete, it¡¯d only be a half circuit until they reached the middle of the northern second-floor corridor, where there were the staircases that wrapped around the central library, with a path running down either of the circular core room. Leaving the delvers in the former courtyard, which had been converted into an indoor area at some point, and would now become the boss room. He also raised diamond walls around the stairs to make sure that people on them couldn¡¯t destroy his boss with ranged attacks.


    And then, finally, if the delvers survived, they¡¯d reach the access door to the library on the south side of the circular room.


    Of course, Thomas also wound up shuffling that area around as well a little, ensuring that people wouldn¡¯t have a clear shot at the core from the door.


    That was when he proceeded to the second step. Populating his domain.


    He decided to use an ¡°inside out¡± approach to populating it, ensuring he¡¯d have the available defenders needed to protect the core. If he hit his command limit before he reached the door, oh well, that was just more space he could freely decorate with no care for leaving the space viable as battlefields.


    The real issue was that he didn¡¯t have a spare champion, though. They didn¡¯t count against his command limit and were more powerful than other creatures of their rank.


    So he had to use a standard creature as a boss. Or rather, a combination of creatures, or so was the plan.


    Thomas summoned a Guardian Bull, the massive undead bovine gaining multiple extra lives as he took advantage of the unique abilities of this kind of creature. It counted triple against his limit, and cost three times as much as normal, but it would also have to be taken down three times.


    But merely having a tough creature was nowhere near enough.


    So he added a Spiritus Machina on its back. Spiriti Machinae, actually.


    Two sets of Mongolian armor, both possessed, with one breastplate inside the other while the arm and leg pieces were wielded independently. And a long as possible cavalry saber was wielded by yet another Spiritus in each hand.


    Six Spiriti and a three-lived undead bull. Expensive, but it should be pretty badass.


    Thomas also added multiple cat mummies to the area, just to start nipping at people¡¯s ankles, or driving their fangs into unprotected necks when someone granted them an opening.


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    So, that was almost twenty percent of his available command points spent just on his core room, but that was fine.


    He continued his work in the room that led to the stairs, which was the one that had originally contained the mummies, and was now largely bare. Thomas sighed, and dove into the archives, finding a few exhibits with minimal historical importance he felt he could absorb and copy.


    Sure, this room would no longer contain King Tut and other exhibits that were almost as grand, but at least it no longer looked horrifically bare.


    Thomas had moved many of the ¡°glass¡± cases from the center of the room towards the wall, though he put a very wide wall in front of the door so that people could see in, but not actually do anything other than scout.


    By literally any standard other than ¡°I¡¯m a Dungeon, raw material is cheap¡±, fully encasing exhibits in solid diamond would be extravagant beyond belief, but Thomas was a Dungeon, and the idea of having that much valuable material lying around without anyone really knowing tickled him pink.


    He also filled the area with several Crypt Guardians waiting in display cases with one open side, with the opening facing away from the door, greatly limiting the areas from where one could attack them from.


    And the ceiling looked like someone had gone to a whole lot of trouble to toilet-paper it, being utterly covered in ¡°bandages¡± that were actually made from some fireproof blankets that Thomas had found in the janitor¡¯s closet. Why someone would use those over a fire extinguisher was beyond him, but he was just glad that he had access to them.


    These would serve as the base for half a dozen cat mummies and not be quite as flammable as the rest of the room was.


    Actually ¡­ Thomas sighed and returned his attention to the core room and added yet another Spiritus to the bull to animate the collection of sown-together fire blankets he¡¯d draped over it. Now, the cloth would automatically intercept any fireballs or flamethrower streams that threatened to ignite the bandages.


    From there, Thomas continued on to the east hallway on the first floor, which had once held a collection of Chinese Jade, as well as several extra exhibits from that same country. He didn¡¯t have much that would fit in particularly well, so other than decorating it and adding in a couple of animated Chinese dresses, he left it alone.


    The next room was the one above the museum¡¯s main entrance, in which he just added a Guardian Bull. Not particularly powerful, but it should be one hell of a nasty surprise whenever someone reached the top of the stairs for the first time.


    And on he went to play with the massive Egyptian, Greek, and Roman section, utterly stuffed with statues and reliefs made from marble and other stone, all of which Thomas had removed and was now putting back. But not by destroying and copying them, oh no, he¡¯d come up with a trick while working on his new Dungeon.


    He couldn¡¯t, or rather, wouldn¡¯t, absorb the sculptures themselves, but he could absorb a few material samples the size of grains of sand to get the materials down pat, and then get the pattern for the air around them. He limited himself to a thin layer of air, of course, to avoid a low-pressure zone that explosively refilled a split-second after he was done, but the process still worked.


    And as a D-Ranked Dungeon, he could merge patterns now. The process wasn¡¯t simple or easy when using it on creature patterns, unlike the automatic addition of new structures when creating champions, he had to individually adjust everything, even having to take into account stuff like actual, physical, rejection. But merging rock with the air structure, filling the empty portion with the specific stone needed, that was about as simple as this got.


    Thomas even decided to create a very impressive replica of the Rosetta Stone from pink marble, with gold inlaid into the hieroglyphs. Utterly gorgeous, and very clearly not the original. Clear proof that he¡¯d retrieved the original and that caution was not required when fighting around it.


    Overall, he had a lot of fun with the Egyptian section, making obelisks made from obsidian so dark it seemed to suck in the light, a horus statue formed entirely from sapphire, just for the hell of it, and so on, though Thomas made sure to thoroughly anchor anything that looked valuable enough to steal.


    Then, he took one look at it and added a whole bunch of extra decorations from the Greek section, just to fit in with the Marble Hoplites he added to this section.


    Using strategically positioned display cases and statues, Thomas created a series of funnels and chokepoints, which would force the delvers to take several head-to-head confrontations against the deadly golem-like creatures.


    Then, he turned the next area into an actual exhibit, describing some of the coolest objects he¡¯d found in the museum.


    Which already brought him to the final area, an immense library that ran almost the entire length of the museum¡¯s eastern wall, also containing numerous stuffed animals, an empty alcove that used to hold a mummy, and a medieval set of plate armor. It was the last part that Thomas chose to replicate several times over while also adding vases and plates wherever they halfway fit, animating these defenses with Shattering Poltergeists and Spiriti Machinae.


    Now he just needed someone to try and walk inside ¡­ oh, this would be fun.

 Chapter 57: Ruminations

    For what felt like the millionth time since leaving the Museum, Jaclyn reached under her jacket and felt for the vial of healing potion, making sure it was still there.


    She hadn¡¯t been able to identify it, of course, but Gula had also struck out by quite a lot. She could tell it was a regular healing potion, but one made for someone at such a high rank that for normal people, a few drops could regrow limbs, eradicate cancer, and basically do anything short of bringing back the dead.


    As one rose through the rank, the body became tougher and more ... ¡°secure¡± in itself, for lack of a better word, resistant to attacks and so on, even if one didn¡¯t focus on physical improvement, also gaining additional abilities eventually. Far in the future. Well beyond where she currently lay in the power ranking.


    For example, B-Rankers could fly through pure energy manipulation and S-Rankers could even step between worlds, albeit at great cost.


    At the same time, that also meant that rebuilding a body containing that much power also cost a ton of energy. In other words, that little vial was meant to undo an amount of damage that would reduce her entire delving group to ash a hundred times over.


    However, she¡¯d gotten more than just that out of the Dungeon.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Name: Jaclyn Abrams


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Race: Human


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Class: Anima Monk


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    E-Rank, Level 3 -> 6/20


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Class Abilities


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit Bond: Honey Badger (F-Rank)


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit Projection (E-Rank)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Statistics (0 points available)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Body: 70 -> 80


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Magic: 5


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Mind: 65 -> 75


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit: 64 -> 74


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Skills


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Pugilism 21 -> 23


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Fist of Indomitable Badger 26 -> 28


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Athletics 22 -> 24


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Situational Awareness 22 -> 25


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Bullshit Radar 17


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Martial Arts 26 -> 27


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Alternate Skill Set (currently inactive, switch unavailable)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Mana Control 5


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Utility Magic 3 -> 4


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Ballance 12 -> 13


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Breathing 6 -> 7


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Inspect 1 -> 3


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Movement 14 -> 15


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    ***


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Back in F-Rank, that struggle would have probably been enough to give her a full twenty Levels, taking her straight to E-Rank, but the power difference between her and her enemies was likely the primary reason for only getting three this time around. Throw in the slower progression at E-Rank and she¡¯d been left a little lower than she¡¯d hoped.


    However, if she¡¯d tried any of that as she¡¯d been barely two weeks ago, she¡¯d have died literally one meter in, when that damn monkey had dropped the coconut on her head.


    And thirty Stat points were nothing to sneeze at either, she¡¯d spread them equally between the three Stats directly useful to her. Physical strength, speed, and durability, enhanced cognition and reflexes, the latter which was the more important component of the ¡°Mind¡± enhancement to her, and generally stronger powers.


    And her Skill had also jumped nicely since she¡¯d last looked, though once again, it was very telling just how valuable Dungeons were. Her main ¡°loadout¡± had only been improved during the delve, while the ¡°utility loadout¡± had been strengthened over the last several days and actually gained fewer Levels despite all Skills in it being well below Level 20, when things really started to slow down.


    Still, while her main Skills were slowly growing to the point where they were gradually having truly supernatural effects, the utility Skills were almost more noticeable.


    Magic was cool, but the gains to her simple ability to be balanced, and a little boost to her ability to not just breathe but breathe properly, that impacted every part of her life. It was fascinating, but also a little scary how impactful the System could be.


    Jaclyn finally closed the window after staring at it for almost a full minute and looked around the car.


    Gula was currently scribbling something in a book of hers, Harper was staring out of the window in a way that made her unsure whether she should compare him to a child or a dog, and Granger was diligently concentrating on the bag of laundry in his lap.


    Everyone had changed once they were out of the Museum, and all the clothing with various amounts of dirt on them was currently in a bag the young mage was in charge of cleansing.


    She could have tried too, but she¡¯d have gotten very little out of it since she¡¯d only switched to her combat loadout this morning and the System wouldn¡¯t have been helping with her learning.


    Granger, on the other hand, had a general magic Skill that theoretically encompassed literally every single spell but grew very slowly in response. All he had to do was cast a spell a few times and it¡¯d grow along with the others he knew, and would help advance the Skill.


    Cleanse was one of those spells that was far more useful than it sounded. Sure, it could magically erase spills, but it could also cleanse wounds in unsanitary conditions, provide drinking water in most situations, and, most importantly, clean things that could, for one reason or another, not be cleansed using normal methods.


    And she¡¯d promised him that if anyone tried to use him to clean something that really didn¡¯t need a magical touch, he could send them her way, and she¡¯d set them straight.


    Harper would also learn, as it could help him treat injuries by easily cleaning them, but he¡¯d take longer to do so since he lacked Granger¡¯s power and theoretical grounding.


    Jaclyn sighed in relief as she sagged in her car seat, luxuriating in the sensation of having gotten out of her wet, salt-encrusted clothing. Seriously, why did the Dungeon have to use salt water? If it hadn¡¯t been for her own cleaning magic barely able to scrub herself clean, she¡¯d have been itching like crazy by the time she got anywhere with a shower.


    Finally, she was out of that accursed place, and if anyone wanted to get another vial, they¡¯d damn well pay her. And she wasn¡¯t just talking about her regular salary, but something well beyond that, or standard hazard pay for that matter. Or they¡¯d have to give her a damn good reason for why it was needed right at that moment.


    ***


    London beyond the jungle that now occupied its center was like some kind of irradiated zone slowly being evacuated.


    First, most of the people who lived right on the edge of the new area had made the very sensible decision to run.


    Second, people who lived within easy walking distance began to move, taking advantage of the buildings between them and the threat to actually pack some stuff.


    And thirdly, everyone else was retreating. Arranging to stay with relatives or in long-term rentals, trying to pack up all their belongings, and the like.


    And on one particularly memorable occasion, trying to threaten their insurance agency into not writing the whole mess off by taking advantage of their contract¡¯s force majeure clause. Jaclyn hadn¡¯t been involved in that in even the remotest of ways, but cops could be a gossipy bunch when it came to interesting incidents.


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    ¡­ Or when a fellow officer had made an embarrassing mistake.


    She wouldn¡¯t be leaving, even leaving aside her sense of duty and the fact that even if she¡¯d been inclined to rabbit, there¡¯d likely have been hell to pay.


    It really was a very simple equation in her mind. If she was here, at the source of the supernatural catastrophe, she could do something about any further issues. And with her not-inconsiderable power, ¡°something¡± covered quite a lot of ground.


    Had she, on the other hand, retreated, she¡¯d only be able to do something after things had already gone very wrong, potentially having escalated well past the point where anything she did could change the outcome.


    But Eve¡¯s place wasn¡¯t here, not really. Jaclyn loved having her daughter with her, but it just wasn¡¯t safe, not really. Especially with a bloody dragon around. Not to mention that wreaking holy havoc with the neighborhood kids and her fellow officers¡¯ kids was not exactly a good way to spend time.


    It was better Eve stayed with her father for now, at a safe distance from London and at a proper school


    Now if only Robert had actually shown up in the beginning of this whole mess. He¡¯d been too much of a coward to pick up his daughter.


    No, that wasn¡¯t entirely fair, Jaclyn had to admit. He was a cautious person, in the ¡°measure twice, cut once¡± kind of way that more people should adopt as would lead to fewer stupid mistakes.


    He was just categorically incapable of standing up to his mother, which was the reason they¡¯d broken up in the first place. After all, that vile woman had shown up on their third date, tried to convince Jaclyn to become a stay-at-home-mother to their as of then entirely hypothetical children, and not taken no for an answer, becoming increasingly rude and belligerent every time she was rebuffed. While Robert did nothing.


    And if that absolute bitch weren¡¯t currently in jail, and the fact that Robert wasn¡¯t allowed to take Eve to ¡°see grandma¡± as per their custody agreement, not even a literal apocalypse would have been enough to convince Jaclyn to let her daughter see her father.


    No, the reason for why Robert had taken so long was an entirely different one, Jaclyn was certain of that. He¡¯d massively overprepared. He¡¯d taken one look at a news article talking about the ¡°apocalypse¡± and gone full prepper mode, stocking up on shelf-stable foods, grabbing every legal and technically not illegal weapon and tool he could get his hands on, possibly even added illegal stuff on top of that, added bars to every window ¡­ something like that. Jaclyn didn¡¯t know what exactly he¡¯d spent his time on, but she knew that he¡¯d done something along those lines.


    And she¡¯d decided to let it go, and accept that even though she¡¯d called him and asked him if he could pick up Eve after she¡¯d fought that damn cultivator, he hadn¡¯t shown up.


    It was theoretically a good idea to be prepared, but in practice, if preparing took so long that you never got to do anything, it could become an issue.


    Of course, she¡¯d assumed that things would be mostly peaceful for the foreseeable future, Gula had predicted that the big monsters that had likely been carried along by the magical areas would only start taking big actions years from now.


    The presence of a dragon rapidly regaining her power changed things. She wanted Eve out of here, yesterday.


    She knew the reason he hadn¡¯t so much as offered to take their daughter for a while was that he was preparing to receive her properly. However, she didn¡¯t feel this could wait, not anymore.


    So Jaclyn decided she¡¯d wait until they were back at the precinct, retrieve her phone, and call him while she worked to deliver the panacea.


    And if Robert wasn¡¯t there by tomorrow evening at the very latest, she¡¯d drive up to Manchester herself and make sure he learned that there were worse things in this world than being less than 100% ready for something.


    She¡¯d finished ruminating well before they reached the precinct, so she went back to looking out of the window, ruminating. They¡¯d long since switched to Armored Personal Carriers for excursions into the jungle, with all electronics liable to be broken removed, of course. And now, they were riding this thing straight through the city¡¯s empty streets, with a manned machine gun on the roof, people barely glancing their way as though they were already used to the sight.


    This city had only been ¡°hit¡± once, and yet, Jaclyn was already painfully reminded of various World War 2 documentaries. Sure, there wasn¡¯t much rubble lying around, none, to be precise, but there was this feeling in the air ¡­


    Eventually, though, they reached the precinct, Gula hauled off a quarter of the panacea in a glass vial she¡¯d produced from her spatial bag, and the other three took Jaclyn¡¯s car back to Cambridge, where she¡¯d finally hand it over to Director Frye, or whatever his title would eventually be. The only thing he knew was that Harper had called ahead to tell him they¡¯d be by, not mentioning anything about what they actually carried.


    Jaclyn sat in the back, this time, so she could work on things. Thinking about what to do, how to proceed, and how the exactly three humans with powers could fight a magic dragon.


    And then, finally, she pulled out her phone and called her ex.


    The phone rang a few times, and then the contact attempt was declined. Jaclyn sighed, and redialed, already mentally composing a scathing text if he hung up again.


    But apparently, this time, he had the good sense to assume there was a reason she was calling.


    ¡°Hey, Jackie, what are you doing?¡± Robert asked, sounding exhausted, with the noise of construction of some variety in the background.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Jaclyn shot back. ¡°Let me guess, you¡¯re putting bars on the windows, installing a panic room, or are you building a gun safe full of firearms you can¡¯t tell me about because I¡¯d have to arrest you?¡±


    Honestly, knowing Robert, he might have considered that the risk of being caught with illegal firearms was smaller than being caught flat-footed and helpless when monsters attacked. The widespread availability of guns in America was one of the reasons she was glad to live in England, but it was undeniable that when a catastrophe that could be fought directly struck, people having the means to fight was invaluable.


    ¡°Uh ¡­ that¡¯s the greenhouse,¡± he replied after a long moment. Jaclyn believed him, though.


    ¡°Yeah, but you¡¯re going to need to stop supervising that for a few hours while you come get Eve,¡± she told him.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Robert asked, clearly assuming there was a reason for the sudden urgency. Clearly and correctly assuming, not that she could confirm that without the information rapidly spreading and causing a panic.


    ¡°I¡¯m fed up with you taking so long, that¡¯s what¡¯s wrong,¡± she told him with a sickeningly sweet tone that made Harper visibly tense. He¡¯d probably been on the receiving end of it a few times before.


    ¡°So, how about you make sure that our daughter doesn¡¯t spend her life running around like a hyperactive cat all day for the foreseeable future?¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t she go to school?¡± Robert asked.


    ¡°Which school?¡± Jaclyn continued in her previous tone. ¡°The one that just got turned into a monster-infested jungle, or the nearest public school which is already at capacity, with so many kids crammed in each room that half the calls at the precinct are about fights that the teachers don¡¯t feel up to breaking up. Or one of the schools on the other end of the city, that I¡¯d have to drive two hours each way to reach because I can¡¯t take the direct route?¡±


    That part about the fights was an exaggeration, but only a small one.


    ¡°Er ¡­ it¡¯s a little late for me to come over, isn¡¯t it?¡± Robert asked, making his first good point.


    ¡°Then come by tomorrow,¡± Jaclyn offered, dropping back to her normal tone.


    ¡°Can that wait a week or so?¡± Robert asked.


    ¡°Giving her a proper home is more important than your perfectionism fetish,¡± Jaclyn snidely told him. ¡°We¡¯re living out of a hotel room right now. So get your ass over here before I drag you to London by your ear.¡±


    ¡°I ¡­¡± Robert interjected before clearly realizing he had nothing to say.


    ¡°Tomorrow,¡± Jaclyn insisted. She knew him. If he didn¡¯t have a deadline, he¡¯d endlessly ¡°refine¡± whatever he was working on until it was way too late.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Robert sighed. ¡°Where are you staying?¡±


    Jaclyn gave him the hotel¡¯s address and their room number, then hung up.


    ¡°Your ex?¡± Harper asked.


    Jaclyn nodded.


    ¡°You know, if you ever need someone to go ¡®talk¡¯ to him ¡­¡± Harper trailed off darkly


    ¡°Don¡¯t even joke about that,¡± Jaclyn sighed. The idea of ¡°power corrupts¡± was not a new idea, but one that was very true. And power abused was power that corrupted even more quickly. Joking about abusing power wasn¡¯t quite as horrible in her book, but still plenty bad.


    It was the same thing with violence.


    People talked about how violence was never a solution, or at least that was how the saying went. They were wrong. Violence was always a solution. And that was the problem. You could just ¡­ use it. Usually, this solution was one that would drop a new problem into your lap the very instant you were finished punching your current one into oblivion.


    But it was oh. So. Tempting. When ¡°the right way¡± failed due to corruption, loopholes, a biased jackass with power over you ¡­ it was always there as a possible choice to make, a path to take.


    And the more well-trodden a path it became, the easier it became to take it again.


    Though she felt that joking about violence could be reasonably ok, as long as you took a moment to think before you opened your mouth. Jokes like that were so prevalent in modern society that basically no one took them seriously unless circumstances made them come across as being genuine.


    Jokes about abuse of power, though, those were much rarer, and scarier when aimed at you.


    Because they hadn¡¯t lost their threatening nature by being overused, and because they were so much harder to disbelieve. The idea that someone would fly off the handle over a minor thing was relatively minor. But someone with power over you was threatening to use that power ¡­ it made you feel so very small, so very helpless, and it really wasn¡¯t fun.


    Jaclyn just sighed and rested her head against the car window. Admittedly, Harper probably hadn¡¯t meant anything by it, and her mind had gone off spinning into the void all on its own.


    As far as she could tell, he hadn¡¯t been a regular police officer, or a member of any other kind of public-facing law enforcement agency. He didn¡¯t deal with the people on the streets, he knew how regular citizens had to deal with cops only in the abstract. He felt comfortable making those jokes. She ¡­ she had unfortunately seen where those jokes led when they became reality.


    The real world was complicated. And not the ¡°fun¡± kind of complicated one found in a good puzzle. No, this was a frustrating Gordian Knot of various issues vying for priority, painted in a billion different shades of grey.


    Despite herself, she felt herself longing for the Dungeon. It might have been dangerous and all, filled with fiendish traps and annoying tricks, but it was also simple.


    The monsters inside literally existed to be fought by her, they would survive beyond their death, being resurrected just as soon as Daedalus deigned to spend the magical energy to do so. And when they did temporarily ¡°die¡±, they went away entirely, not even leaving a single speck of dirt on her knuckles.


    And the puzzles inside were there to be solved, not be an annoying anchor to weigh down her psyche. Solving murders was satisfying, yes, but that satisfaction came at the heels of tragedy and intrigue. Not something one could really do for ¡°fun¡±.


    Not that she considered fighting for her life to be enjoyable, exactly, and yet ¡­ she found herself wishing back for that simplicity, because it never got any simpler than the inside of a Dungeon.


    Even the most justified of fights outside still left you hurting another person with their own thoughts, feelings, dreams, and others who cared about them. That wouldn¡¯t stop Jaclyn, of course, if someone did something that warranted them to be arrested, she¡¯d arrest them, and if they shot at her, she¡¯d shoot back, assuming she had her gun on her.


    But even that tiny fragment of complexity wasn¡¯t present in a Dungeon. It was just ¡­ a fight, a justified fight where no matter what, you wouldn¡¯t hurt the other guy, and eventually, she¡¯d even gain something out of the exchange.


    Jaclyn knew she couldn¡¯t spend her life hiding away in the Natural History Museum, chasing power and an adrenaline high, but right now, it was far more tempting than it really should have been.


    At least Frye was unlikely to dump another steaming pile of ambiguity into her lap.

 Chapter 58: A Pathetic Invasion

    As natural as having two Dungeons at once felt, Thomas was rapidly starting to figure out some of the limitations of that process.


    Firstly, being able to freely control either dungeon wasn¡¯t the same as the ability to control both, so his theoretical workload for Dungeon upkeep had doubled. Currently, neither Dungeon was in constant use, so he was mostly fine on that front. More bored than anything else.


    No, ¡°bored¡± was decidedly the wrong term, he still had plenty of things to do, things that were even fun, but the thing he really wanted to do, which was to watch delvers struggle against the defenses he¡¯d constructed.


    Which just left him forced to wait, only lacking the thing he really wanted to do but otherwise fairly happy. He had an almost infinite ability to replicate the things he¡¯d already found, the catalog of things he had found was immense, and his ability to come up with ridiculous stuff with those was even more immense and utterly over the top.


    For example, he¡¯d built himself a silly little mad scientist¡¯s laboratory just outside his core room. No regular delver not going for his core would ever see it, but he¡¯d had a lot of fun sticking crap in there, and then decorating it liberally with eerily blood-like cherry juice and fluorescent paints he¡¯d found as parts of a picture someone¡¯s kid had made for them.


    Also, obviously a place like the Natural History Museum had plenty of specimen jars he could copy, along with the preservative fluids within, and he had literally thousands of extinct or magical critters whose body parts he could suspend within.


    And right now, Thomas was playing chess with Elias. On a life-sized board. Not with black vs white but dinosaurs vs ice age creatures.


    Ancient horse ancestors and regular velociraptors were the pawns, Giant Sloths and Camarasauruses were the rooks, Utharaptors and sabertooths were the knights, wooly rhinos and scolosauruses were bishops.


    Thomas, playing as ¡°dinosaurs¡± had a regular, feathered t-rex as a queen and a draconic rex as a king while Elias had a megaloceros, a prehistoric deer with giant antlers, as a king and a sabertooth as a queen.


    Of course, with this setup, there hadn¡¯t been anyone who¡¯d obviously go first, they¡¯d just flipped a coin, resulting in Thomas starting.


    That ¡­ that hadn¡¯t helped him in the slightest. In fact, he was fully in the process of getting his ass kicked when something alerted him of an invader, so he immediately swept the area around the Natural History Museum with the sentries on the roof before he realized that that wasn¡¯t where the issue was located.


    By the time he¡¯d realized he had to go search at his other location, the invader was already inside. A giant wolf large enough to rest its chin on a regular car¡¯s roof without having to stretch in any way, with midnight black fur and eyes that burned with a violet light.


    ***


    The void wolf slowly padded into the newly created place of power. Unlike its prey, it had held supernatural power, and grown by another bound after the world had shifted, as had its pack.


    And yet, somehow, it was still the weakest being in its pack, forced to explore this place before all the others. This ¡­ construction. It smelled oh so enticing, except in the place of an appetizing smell, it was something less tangible. Yet the sensation was there, drawing the pack in.


    However, alongside the temptation was a curtain of danger, like a watering hole without any tracks around it that would indicate that it was in use. Because if a resource like that lay bare, unused, there tended to be a reason for that.


    And yet, this particular wolf didn¡¯t have a choice as it carefully advanced into the strange habitation construction, forged by the two-legged tool users based on the smell. A den.


    It advanced the only way that lay open. A large path, with plenty of space to turn around and retreat. At least there was that.


    The wolf slowly padded forward into a vast room that stank of dried wood and old, dead, skin, sensing nothing amiss other than a slight hum of power, but it was barely different than the standard background hum of energy ever-present in this place. Enough that it would have fled on its own, but not quite enough to chase it off with its pack behind it.


    And then, from one moment to the next, power spiked and chunks of hardened earth flew through the air, straight at it.


    One exploded against the surface of its fur, sharp fragments biting into the skin below even blunted against the power infused into its hairy shell. A second flew straight at its head, but when its jaws crunched down on the attack, it was sucked straight into its second ability, removed from reality.


    The number of projectiles suddenly increased, some smashing straight through the defensive power before breaking, others bursting at a distance, but it was too much even so.


    Especially since the already used-up projectiles were reappearing.


    And then, the attack ceased, and the power behind it faded away. Had the creature exhausted itself?


    ***


    ¡°Jep, void wolves,¡± Elias nodded once Thomas had finished describing the critter. ¡°Their first power is a pocket dimension pocket that lets them eat as much as they want without any consequences, if they can reach it, they eat it. Their second is a spatial distortion on the fur that creates another pocket space above the skin. Basically, if you want to hit one, you have to aim between half a meter and three meters past where you can see it.¡±


    ¡°Three meters,¡± Thomas said flatly.


    ¡°If they¡¯re powerful. E-Ranks aren¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°And what are the next powers they get?¡± Thomas asked. He¡¯d only fought the scout so far, chances were it was considered expendable, and most likely the weakest member of the herd. Pack. Whatever.


    ¡°D-Rank¡¯s where they get dangerous. Most people call that power Void Step, they basically shorten the space in front of them to walk really far, really fast. And at C-Rank, Void Chomp lets them put stuff between their jaws even if it doesn¡¯t fit or already dodged.¡±


    ¡°Ruh-roh,¡± Thomas muttered.


    ¡°What?¡± Elias asked, sounding confused.


    ¡°Never mind, it¡¯s starting,¡± Thomas shushed the fairy as he watched the rest of the pack enter. Telling the Poltergeist to self-destruct by hurling the pot that held its consciousness at the wolf had allowed him to call the wolves inside. Or rather, cause the scout to notify the others via a loud bark.


    There were seven of the critters. The scout, E-Rank, two smaller wolves that were F-Rank but clearly also not fully grown, which was likely the reason why they hadn¡¯t led the way, three larger E-Rank adults, and finally, a D-Rank alpha.


    Well, as much as ¡°alpha¡± was even a real concept. Thomas was fully aware of the fact that the idea of an alpha wolf had been perpetrated by a scientist who¡¯d fully believed that wolf packs were led by a dominant male, except that same scientist had disproven that idea himself only a few years later. ¡°Alphas¡± were merely the parents of the pups, in charge much the same way the ¡°man of the house¡± was in an old-fashioned, patriarchal society.


    But Thomas did like the term, so he decided to use it for the big guy, even if it was highly likely that it was incorrect in the extreme.


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    So he leaned back and watched, wishing he still had a body to munch popcorn with. Sure, he used monkeys for most actions like jumping for joy or facepalming, but using them for eating felt a little weird. Somehow. The unfamiliar fangs how much larger food was by comparison, and the way their tongues tasted things differently, combined with the eerily familiar portions of the act of eating just made the whole thing feel ¡­ off. Just off. Not something he wanted to indulge in for very long.


    The wolfpack advanced through the library and marched straight past the next room, which was filled with various educational or just plain funny stuff. Like the handful of weapons found in the museum, interesting amphorae, ceremonial clothing, and some weapon-shaped money.


    That last one looked like particularly cruel weapons but had apparently been the traditional means of transferring wealth for a dowry in the Sudan and Congo a couple of centuries ago. But it wasn¡¯t the concept itself that tickled Thomas¡¯ funny one, rather, it was the idea that someone might try and turn those in at a bank and the teller¡¯s reaction that made him want to burst out in giggles.


    The wolves, obviously, didn¡¯t give a flying fuck how much effort he¡¯d put into decorating everything and just charged straight through. One of the small wolves suddenly grew half a meter and broke through into E-Rank even as Thomas watched. Had it just been that close to the threshold, or was exploring a Dungeon filled with D-Ranks just that profitable?


    But the creatures were now through, advancing into the next room. The rainbow-colored wonderland of ancient stone sculptures reimagined in gemstones, as though a hyperactive toddler had run through with a magical wand that could transform stuff into crystal. It was pretty, admittedly, though Thomas had to admit he might have gone overboard. Just a little. Teensy wensy bit. Maybe. Possibly. Theoretically.


    In theo- ¡­ ok, he definitely had gone a little mad with power when he¡¯d built it, but it had just been so much fun! Not that it would ever not be fun to do this.


    The wolfpack advanced while Thomas was reshuffling his defenses in the rooms ahead. He really wanted to test out his boss, but also decided that letting the enemy get all the way outside the core room for the sole purpose of having the strongest creature in the Dungeon get some action was foolish.


    So a literal bull was sent tromping through a literal china shop, squeezing through not only the Egyptian section but also charging through the hallway of Chinese art with enough speed that several ceramics were thrown off their pedestals.


    Whoops.


    However, after doing enough damage in passing that even a Dungeon would need several minutes to fix everything, the Guardian Gestalt reached the hall above the main entrance, with only a single staircase separating it from the room with the invaders.


    And with a mere thought, Thomas also sent a couple of the undead cats and Crypt Guardians into the marble room as he wanted to see them in action properly.


    ***


    The wolf was still nervously dancing side to side as it marched through the hall of shining earth. What a strange, strange, world. It wanted to run, but Father would ensure that whatever fate it escaped by fleeing the place of power would befall it regardless.


    And by the time it decided that was worth it, it was already too late. Spires of white stone rose from the floor and closed off the entrance while the countless identical rock beings began to make themselves known as being alive, closing in on the pack.


    Whirling on the closest foe, the wolf felt a stone lance swish through its fur, only its own power saving its life.


    Die, rock thing!


    The wolf lunged and closed its jaws over the creature¡¯s head and began to draw it in, the bottomless hole in its stomach annihilating the stone it had just bitten down on. No matter what creature one was facing, it wouldn¡¯t survive past the loss of its hea- ¡­


    A sharp pain in its throat was first, swiftly followed by all strength leaving the wolf as its vision grew black and it fell to the ground.


    ***


    ¡°What does it take to kill one of those Hoplites?¡± Thomas wondered as he watched the now-headless Marble monster jam its spear into the scout¡¯s throat.


    It was a rhetorical question, of course, he knew that unless one fully broke them to the point where they couldn¡¯t do much of anything, they¡¯d keep on trucking, but it was an entirely different thing to see it firsthand.


    A moment later, the big D-Rank wolf was there, a mere three steps having carried it halfway across the room, and smashed into the murderous, blood-covered statue with its paw. The Dungeon monster promptly toppled over and shattered, then vanished.


    Yeah, that thing was tough. And therefore, perfect.


    Thomas swiftly began to adjust his orders, having the Hoplites throw up even more pillars to block the wolves¡¯ retreat while sending the various reinforcements after all the little wolves. He wanted the big bastard to face the Dungeon boss.


    The last remaining F-Rank was the first to go, with a cat mummy landing on its back, having jumped from light fixture to light fixture until it was in the perfect position. And then, the monster sank its fangs into the wolf¡¯s neck.


    Baleful black light edged in emerald green flashed around each of its fangs, flesh rotting upon contact, skin drying up and cracking right up to the point where the D-Ranked monster chomped clean through its victim¡¯s spine. At that point, the decay stopped as swiftly as it had started, the curse no longer active on a corpse.


    The alpha was there in a heartbeat, swallowing the cat whole. And that was the end of that particular one of Thomas¡¯ minions. It seemed that even with magic, size did count for something, especially when the creature with the greater size also had a power that allowed it to use its advantage to the fullest. A pocket dimension stomach that could basically annihilate anything kept in its maw for a few seconds ¡­ it looked like Thomas had found a power for his hippos once they hit E-Rank.


    But a single D-Rank trying to defend a bunch of lower-ranked creatures amidst a sea of foes at its own rank was too much.


    And Thomas finally got to see the Crypt Guardian in action as it unfurled four bandages, two from each hand, revealing the desiccated, skeletal, flesh underneath as the cloth wrappings lashed out, each one catching a different limb on its target wolf. From there, it just advanced while reeling in the soon-to-be corpse, its corpse arms slowly vanishing beneath the linen again until it was able to press its still-bare fingertips against the wolf¡¯s throat.


    The same light that had appeared when the cat had attacked flashed from the points of contact, destroying the flesh, but at a far slower rate.


    Thomas knew the standard tactics of the Crypt Guardian was to curse first, then keep fighting the weakened foe normally. However, it seemed when they had the option, they¡¯d kill with the curse too.


    Simply by continuing to press its fingers inward, it began to inject its curse deeper and deeper while adding more instances of it, until it was finished ripping clean through the wolf¡¯s neck and the disintegrating effect vanished once again.


    That particular Crypt Guardian was unable to defend itself against the alpha when it retaliated, biting the mummy in half, but by that point, every other invader was dead and the Dungeon monsters stopped dead in their tracks at Thomas¡¯ order.


    Watching the furious wolf rip its way through his defenders wasn¡¯t exactly fun to see, but Thomas wanted it to be intact when fighting the boss.


    Growling and snarling, the alpha void wolf slowly padded deeper into the dungeon, covered in stone powder and corpse dust, angrily glaring into every nook and cranny it passed. Thomas couldn¡¯t blame it, but he was really hoping it would hurry the hell up.


    Eventually, it wound up taking a full five minutes to walk fifty meters, but it managed to reach the target he¡¯d intended for it eventually.


    Oh, this would be good!


    The Grave Gestalt, as Thomas had decided to call his boss just now, stood patiently waiting on the opposite end of the room that normally held a regular undead bull, staring at the void wolf, which glared back, a rumble deep in its throat before charging.


    And the Gestalt charged right on back, only to flash through the empty air as the void wolf used its power.


    Fuck, that thing was fast.


    So Thomas told the bull to wheel around and charge once more, barely causing the wolf any issues as it was able to sidestep again, even managing to take a bite out of the Gestalt¡¯s side.


    Thomas let that happen two more times, until he finally ordered the Gestalt to use one of the Bull¡¯s powers, ruinous charge, creating a cursed aura around itself. The curse applied by it was the weakest one he had access to, but it also had the widest range of them all.


    Of course, the wolf dodged the charge and then tried to leap in to attack but reeled back when it got smacked right in the face by the curse, and that moment of distraction was enough for the collection of Spiriti glued to the back of the bull to lash out at its back with its swords, able to stretch out its arms well past the point where the wolf¡¯s defensive power was able to prevent an impact.


    Snarling, the wolf void-stepped into the far corner, turned around, and gave the bull a measuring glare.


    And then, the world transformed into a blur of black fur, swiftly followed by clouds of dust as the wolf appeared right next to the Gestalt, only to leap away again the instant the boss responded, until it finally managed to get into a position to rip out its target¡¯s throat with enough force to decapitate it.


    However, the bull-portion of the boss managed to trigger its Ruinous Charge for just long enough to unleash the curse aura and further hurt the wolf while the Spiriti carved into the alpha.


    But Thomas could see the feeling of victory glow in the alpha¡¯s eyes as it glared at the headless body of the Gestalt, breathing heavily.


    And then, the bull reformed.


    It had two lives left and the nighf-infinite stamina of the undead.


    The wolf ¡­ didn¡¯t. Especially not with it having been cursed twice, and vastly overused its power. Unless a given power explicitly required mana to funtion, it would function basically for free up to a certain limit, at which point it would start to drain one¡¯s physical stamina, with the drain increasing the more one overused it. And this wolf had gone so far over the line Thomas doubted it would be able to see its starting line even with a spy satellite.


    When the Grave Gestalt trampled the invader into the ground, it was barely able to dodge more than a single meter.


    Ok, he¡¯d created an absolute monster, one that hadn¡¯t even eaten a Champion slot during its creation.


    Awesome!

 Chapter 59: Forge of Legends

    ¡°I think your schedule should be clear enough to work on making magical items,¡± Elias said after the sabertooth that served as the ¡°queen¡± on their chessboard chased off Thomas¡¯ king. ¡°I know you told me to wait until you brought it up again, but I¡¯m pretty sure you forgot I ever offered in the first place.¡±


    ¡°When did I say that?¡± Thomas asked. He didn¡¯t remember saying any of that, but then again, he could get pretty distracted when he was having fun.


    ¡°When you were rebuilding your Dungeon for dragon defense, you bit my head off when I tried to interrupt. And when I tried again later, you told me to shut up and not bring it up again until you told me to,¡± Elias shrugged from midair, having already flown off his ¡°pillow¡± as a precaution.


    He knew Thomas well enough by now that getting tossed through the room by whatever creature he was sitting on at the moment was nigh guaranteed when he played stupid games.


    ¡°So let me get this straight: you interrupted me when I was busy, and decided that just because I got a little stroppy, you¡¯d hold it over my head to the detriment of the Dungeon? Do you have any idea I could have done with magical gear?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°Nothing, because your creatures can¡¯t use the kinds of items you can make. So I decided I¡¯d do what you said,¡± Elias shrugged, slowly edging away from where he could see the skunk Thomas had spawned in.


    ¡°And why, pray tell, is that so?¡± Thomas sighed. Was it possible he¡¯d snapped at the fairy for being interrupted when he was concentrating? Yes. But this was just petty bullshit.


    ¡°Because your monsters don¡¯t have any energies that can power them. They only have power for their specific powers.¡±


    Now that was something he could work with.


    ¡°What kinds of energies are there, and which ones can work with magical items?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°Dungeon items usually work with everything, but you can exclude specific energies. Normal enchantments usually work with the energy they were enchanted with,¡± Elias explained. ¡°But if you try to power something with an incompatible energy, things get ¡­ fun.¡±


    ¡°And the energies?¡± Thomas asked again when Elias paused, but the fairy waved him off.


    ¡°Hold on, let me think, make sure I¡¯ve got them all ¡­ yep.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got mana, which is basically universal. The mages use it, versatile Systems too. It¡¯s generally stable and doesn¡¯t do anything on its own, you need to put it into a structure before you can use it, but half-formed structures that fail tend to go boom. The Inspector and her posse use it.


    ¡°Then there¡¯s qi, which cultivators use. You can build it up in your body to grow, but it¡¯s insanely destructive if you make any kind of mistake with it.


    ¡°Most System powers run on a reservoir of some vague, undefined energy, but people call it ¡®mental energy¡¯ when they have to put a label on it. The stronger a power is, the less you can use it before you start drawing on your stamina. Simple. And you can have it even if you also have mana, but it can¡¯t fuel magical items.


    ¡°The last two are pretty similar. Reiki and Chakra are both used by Systems that focus inwards, Reiki¡¯s better at healing and Chakra is better and energy projection, they¡¯re both hard to use but no matter how badly you screw up with those, you¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    That ¡­ that had been a lot of information, but there was one thing that Thomas zeroed in on.


    ¡°Cultivators only use Qi, right?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°Uh-hu?¡± Elias sounded unsure, obviously curious as to where Thomas was going with this.


    ¡°So if I make an item that can¡¯t process qi, cultivators can¡¯t use them?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°I mean, they can use them,¡± Elias said conspiratorially. ¡°For about a thousandth of a second. Then ¡­¡±


    The fairy trailed off.


    ¡°¡­ Boom,¡± Thomas finished for him. ¡°Perfect. And now, you¡¯re telling me how to make magical objects.¡±


    Also, he was curious as to how the actual fuck he¡¯d missed the fact that he could make magical items.


    ¡°You take an item and merge a power with it.¡±


    ¡­ The synchronized facepalm of every creature in the Dungeon physically capable of making the motion was so loud that it was audible even down in the core room, startling Elias into fluttering higher. All it had taken was him using the D-Ranked pattern-merging ability to fuse powers to items instead of creature patterns.


    ¡°Anything else I should know?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°The item¡¯s grade depends on the base material, some base materials don¡¯t work with some powers, some powers need materials of a certain grade to work but not all of them do ¡­ just experiment somewhere the explosion can¡¯t hurt us, and it¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    As though Thomas had been planning to do something that stupid, as though he¡¯d have ever played with a power he did not understand in the slightest right next to the only part of his ¡°body¡± that he could not fix in a matter of minutes. Well, hours, maybe, but that kind of damage could only be caused by a concerted bombardment on the part of the RAF. Or maybe an entire battalion of heavy artillery, that might have the range to hit him.


    Thomas wasn¡¯t quite certain what the range of modern artillery was, but from his visit to the Belfast, he remembered that her main guns could bombard everything within 14 miles of her. And if an eighty or ninety-year-old cruiser had that kind of range, what could modern weaponry achieve?


    ¡­ Honestly, with how quickly Thomas had just been distracted, he was starting to see why Elias had decided to screw with him over something that wouldn¡¯t cause any harm. But that didn¡¯t mean that the fairy was forgiven, or that the incident had been forgotten. Sleep with one eye opened, you winged little ¡­


    He cut off that train of thought. There was a shiny new toy to play with, and he¡¯d be damned if he let his bad mood ruin it for him.


    So, what magical items would Thomas want to get if he were still human? What powers would he want?


    Teleportation, flight, super-strength, in that order. And he had a vague memory of some Ancient Greek philosopher, he thought it was Plato but wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d put his money where his mouth was on that, claiming that invisibility was the ultimate superpower.


    So that might be cool too, but could he add a clause like ¡°this item will instantly fail if its user stares at the naked body of someone who is not aware of their presence¡±?


    And should he? Well, yes, that wasn¡¯t in question, but what he should be asking is if he should add a ¡°don¡¯t be a creep¡± warning? Or should he add a few seconds of delay to the deactivation, so that in the event of misuse, the bearer would have enough time to get themselves into a truly compromising situation?


    But before he could do any of that, he needed to find an invisibility power first ¡­ which he didn¡¯t have. All he had was ¡°camouflage¡± from a preserved cuttlefish.


    So Thomas shrugged and went ahead creating an invisibility cloak that was really more like one of those stealth armor coatings from several different sci-fi properties.


    Unranked cuttlefish skin merged with void wolf leather for durability, and to raise the rank from unranked to F-Rank served as the base material. Slapping together non-living patterns was easy enough, though playing around with organic materials did require slightly more attention than doing the same with rocks or gemstones.


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    Cuttlevoid Leather (F-Rank, rare)


    A synthetic material forged by a Dungeon, combining the adaptive nature of cuttlefish skin with the durability and ability to suck in light of void wolf weather.


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    Oh, that name! Thomas started sniggering. And the fact that it was classified as ¡°rare¡± was telling. Normally, that rating required an object to either be extremely magical, or be a properly crafted and enchanted item, without even a hint of mass-productions.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    And now, for the second step. Creating and merging the power.


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    Lesser Voidstalker Wrappings (F-Rank, epic)


    A cloak forged by a Dungeon¡¯s will, it shall blend in with any background it lies before, hiding its wearer as long as no part of their body is exposed.


    The darker the surroundings, the stronger its ability is, however, it may fail in direct sunlight or equivalent artificial illumination.


    Energy draw: infinitesimal, constant when in use


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    ¡°Hey, Elias, how does the mana draw thing work?¡±


    ¡°It describes how it takes its energy. You can charge some before you use them, then you¡¯ve got the annoying ones that you can¡¯t do that with, and so on. Try to play with it for a little, if you want. I don¡¯t know how much you¡¯ll be able to do at D-Rank, though.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± Thomas nodded and returned his attention to his item as he continued shaping it.


    First, he began to form it into an actual cloak, instead of a loose bale of cloth you¡¯d have to drape over yourself, with small holes cut out for the eyes, and an opening to breathe through that wouldn¡¯t expose the wearer¡¯s nose and mouth to hostile sight.


    Second, he added the ¡°no Qi¡± restriction.


    And finally, he added the ¡°will royally fuck over creeps¡± clause which he even managed to make secret.


    But he wasn¡¯t able to fuck with the energy draw at all.


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    Lesser Voidstalker Cloak (F-Rank, epic)


    A cloak forged by a Dungeon¡¯s will, it shall blend in with any background it lies before, hiding its wearer as long as no part of their body is exposed.


    The darker the surroundings, the stronger its ability is, however, it may fail in direct sunlight or equivalent artificial illumination.


    Energy draw: tiny, constant when in use


    Restriction: This item does not accept Qi as an energy source


    Restriction (hidden to standard Inspect): this item will fail after five seconds if its user stares at the naked body of someone who is not aware of their presence. This restriction only applies to the bodies of sapient creatures.


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    So, the mana cost had grown from ¡°infinitesimal¡± to ¡°tiny¡±, but otherwise things were the same.


    ¡°Elias, how badly of a sting in a tail can I add to an item?¡± he asked. ¡°Especially hidden ones?


    ¡°Uh, thematic stuff works better. Show me what you¡¯re working with?¡±


    Thomas shared the screen.


    ¡°Yeah, basically, you added a thematic penalty clause that punishes misuse. That¡¯s easy. You can also add clauses like ¡®will fail if the wearer or party member demonstrates a desire to destroy the creator¡¯s dungeon through word or deed¡¯,¡± Elias suggested, sounding incredibly formal before continuing in his regular tone.


    ¡°But something like ¡®anyone who uses this item drops dead¡¯ won¡¯t fly. Even if you wrap it up in a clause like ¡®if the user attacks the Dungeon¡¯. And clauses increase the mana cost. You can tack on as much as you want, but I can¡¯t guarantee that people are going to use it if it¡¯s too expensive. And someone like that orc is going to realize there are restrictions if the usage cost is more expensive than it should be.¡±


    Thomas added the clause to protect him and noticed the draw jump from ¡°tiny¡± to ¡°low¡±.


    ¡°How expensive is ¡®low¡¯?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not much, but it¡¯s not nothing either. Bit high for a stealth cloak, but not insane. Should be fine,¡± the fairy informed him.


    So Thomas decided to keep the item like that, and continue on to the next magical item. The one that granted flight ¡­ sort of. He didn¡¯t have any proper flight powers, but he had something almost as awesome. The ¡°gravity is wherever my feet point¡± power of a certain jungle cat that had invaded his Dungeon a while ago.


    And he had the perfect material to make boots with that power from, the hide of the cat itself.


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    Boots of Redirected Gravity (F-Rank, epic)


    A pair of boots forged by a Dungeon to grant their wearer the ability to walk on walls and ceilings. Upon activation, gravity will pull the wearer in whatever direction the sole of the activated boot is pointing, allowing the wearer to pull off incredible acts of acrobatics, normally beyond even the strongest F-Ranked individuals, and trivially escape ground-bound foes.


    Energy draw: high, constant when in use


    Restriction: This item does not accept Qi as an energy source


    Restriction (hidden to standard Inspect): this item will fail if the wearer or party member demonstrates a desire to destroy the creator¡¯s dungeon through word or deed


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    Perfect, though its use sounded slightly expensive. And then, Thomas created an E-Rank version for people at that rank to use, only to be surprised by how it turned out.


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    Boots of Redirected Gravity (E-Rank, rare)


    A pair of boots forged by a Dungeon to grant their wearer the ability to walk on walls and ceilings. Upon activation, gravity will pull the wearer in whatever direction the sole of the activated boot is pointing.


    Energy draw: middling, constant when in use


    Restriction: This item does not accept Qi as an energy source


    Restriction (hidden to standard Inspect): this item will fail if the wearer or party member demonstrates a desire to destroy the creator¡¯s dungeon through word or deed


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    </tbody>


    </table>


    Apparently, what was considered epic at F-Rank was only rare at E-Rank, and the energy cost, which was the exact same in terms of the amount used, was considered only ¡°middling¡±, instead of ¡°high¡±.


    Also, Thomas would have to drop tokens of these instead of the boots, which the delvers would have to turn in so he¡¯d have time to make ones in the right size.


    Then, there were the teleportation boots. Once again, not an ability he had access to. But he did have the void wolf ¡°alpha¡¯s¡± void step power.


    But if he made them at D-Rank, no one would be able to use them for a while. So, make the boots from E-Rank leather so that the end result would be E-Rank too, and ¡­ Elias flew into the air with a startled shout as a distant explosion rang out from the experimentation chamber Thomas had drilled into the bedrock on the opposite side of the Dungeon.


    Yeah, some powers did refuse to play nice with the wrong materials. Thomas sighed. But he knew how to fix it.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Boots of the Voidwalker (D-Rank, legendary)


    Boots that allow the bearer to instantaneously walk through space, drawing upon the power of the Void Wolf, a creature that becomes ever more dangerous with each new Rank it achieves, growing from a scavenger able to devour the entirety of whatever it finds without issue to an untouchable apex predator capable of devouring mountains.


    Upon filling these boots with energy, the user¡¯s next three steps will carry them up to ten times as far as they normally would


    Energy draw: immense, instant upon use


    Restriction: This item does not accept Qi as an energy source


    Restriction (hidden to standard Inspect): this item will fail if the wearer or party member demonstrates a desire to destroy the creator¡¯s dungeon through word or deed


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Ok, first of all, Void Wolves were actually terrifying. Also, those boots were badass, if a little costly to use.


    But even a single activation could be game-changing. An average adult¡¯s step was, what, a meter or so, up to one and a half to almost two meters depending on how close to a split one could manage, multiply that by ten, applied to three steps ¡­ thirty to sixty meters was a not-inconsiderable distance.


    Also, how expensive would it be to make those only useable by the person they were awarded? As it turned out, that didn¡¯t increase the already considerable cost at all.


    So Thomas created a version like that with the plan to drop them to low-ranked people as ¡°inspiration¡±.


    After all, who wouldn¡¯t want to grow if there was a guaranteed really cool item one would be able to use if one leveled just a little bit more, and if that item couldn¡¯t be sold, that temptation-slash-inspiration would always be there. A little evil, admittedly, but also fun.


    Thomas mentally grinned and kept going, forging his next set of gear, the stuff he¡¯d instantly give Granger the next time he saw the man in exchange for the hat he¡¯d brought Jan.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Crypt Guardian¡¯s Bracers (F-Rank, epic)


    Draconic dinosaur leather bracers wrapped in the bindings of a Crypt Guardian.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Once again, the base material was very easy to make, and Thomas had managed to drag it down to F-Rank in terms of classification, though it was still quite valuable, clearly. And now, for the enchantment. Which power he added was obvious.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Crypt Guardian¡¯s Bindings (F-Rank, legendary)


    Forged from the bodies of a draconically-empowered dinosaur and a D-Ranked undead powerhouse, this item represents the gratitude of its creator-Dungeon, and a hint at what further trades may garner (though the cost for equivalent gear will be higher than a single hat).


    The wrappings surrounding the leather may be unfurled and telekinetically controlled by the user, with any and all damage sustained by the bindings able to be repaired by a simple addition of mana. Even a charging draconic tyrant king (the creature that unwillingly donated its hide to form this item) can be stopped in its tracks if properly bound.


    Energy draw: middling, constant when in use, titanic to regenerate linens


    Restriction: Only Wyatt Granger (the Wyatt Granger awarded these items, to be exact) can wear and wield this item


    Restriction (hidden to standard Inspect): this item will fail if the wearer or party member demonstrates a desire to destroy the creator¡¯s dungeon through word or deed


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Thomas had even managed to adjust the automatically generated flavor text to set a standard for future trades, and slightly adjust the power of the Crypt Guardian to control its bandages. Where the original could slightly increase the length of the bandages, the one embedded in the bracer could generate more cloth when a truly ridiculous amount of mana was poured into it.


    And since it was bound, or rather, would be bound, to a person who wasn¡¯t a cultivator, Thomas hadn¡¯t added the ¡°no cultivators¡± restriction. Actually, he had added and immediately removed it just to see how much of an impact it would have upon usage costs, as it turned out, not much. When digging into the nitty-gritty of the pattern, he could tell there was a difference in energy draw, but it wasn¡¯t enough to affect the description.


    Oh, this was a beautiful item, and if Granger was half the nerd Thomas suspected him to be, he¡¯d start attaching the wrappings to high-up things and use them to swing around the city. He should probably invest in a good parachute before he tried that, though.


    Once that was done, Thomas also tried to create items with ¡°no Qi¡± and ¡°no Mana¡± restrictions hidden so that he could drop them for hostile invaders who¡¯d subsequently blow themselves up, but apparently, that wouldn¡¯t fly. Too close to the ¡°kills user¡± restriction he couldn¡¯t add, he supposed.


    But either way, this was awesome!


    And sooner or later, he¡¯d come up with a way to get Elias back for not telling him about it earlier ¡­

 Chapter 60: Job Offer

    Cambridge¡¯s campus looked much like how she¡¯d seen it last time. A mess. Consequences of stuffing every conference room with all the people required to do all the minutia required to run a modern government.


    Seriously, why hadn¡¯t they moved everything straight to Bristol, which was becoming the new center of government? It wasn¡¯t that much further. Then again, maybe there hadn¡¯t been the same amount of empty office space as at a university and the handful of surrounding business centers?


    Jaclyn was a Londoner, born and raised, and while she had traveled, she wasn¡¯t particularly familiar with other English cities. And this was how things had shaken out.


    Then again, this was the same kind of government that had greenlit Brexit because the PM had decided to allow people to vote for it in full expectation they¡¯d be against it. It was entirely possible that this had been a less-than-optimal decision. And the chaos following the jungle¡¯s emergence couldn¡¯t have helped matters go smoothly.


    Either way, it was a decision made well above her head, one that had been made and therefore wouldn¡¯t be changed.


    Besides, it was hardly permanent.


    Jaclyn made her way through the usual gauntlet of security and random boxes that peppered the building Frye had taken as his office until she was once again being let into said office by one of the numerous guards present.


    The room wasn¡¯t exactly clear this time around, but the staggering similarity to a mad scientist¡¯s layer had largely fled. The cork- and whiteboards had been organized, and stacks of proposals had been replaced by simple folders that showed the final, accepted, project, blueprint, prototype, or whatever else one would use to describe the thing being put into reality.


    One of the things that first caught her eye was the uniform design. The riot cop outfit that people only ever really saw on the news, beating on protestors, had been removed. The regular citizen on the street would probably have a motley collection of interactions with police officers, some positive, some negative, some neutral, with the kind of media they consumed further coloring their opinion of the police in one direction or the other. Riot cops, and people wearing those kinds of uniforms, though, they were never seen in positive circumstances.


    Instead, the uniform was more military, kept in dark blues and greys, with enough armor that there were some superficial similarities to riot gear, but those faded into the background in comparison to the decoration, which was what really separated them from the previous design.


    Lighter colors highlighted certain patches in an aesthetic manner, the whole thing just screamed ¡°speed and power¡±.


    And finally, a ¡°unit patch¡± sat on the right shoulder of the wearer, with various patch designs along with the units they corresponded to visible on another page.


    A shooting star for magic users, a caduceus for healers, what seemed to be a crossed DNA helix and periodic table for the scientific support staff, a design similar to the crossed swords of certain heraldry, and finally, a few variants on gears for the non-scientific support staff. Logistics, maintenance, etc.


    That being said, the support staff would likely not be going into the field, or be forced to wear obligatory uniforms in the home base, whatever that would wind up being. Jaclyn was ninety-nine percent certain that Cambridge would not be housing this agency forever, or even much longer now.


    However, it was the final patch that made her stop short. It was the one designated for frontline combatants, and it displayed a snarling Honey Badger. Sure, she was meant to lead the strike team for now, but that seemed a bit excessive. Or was it meant to evoke the spirit of her fight against the cultivator, of people fighting against even people so strong that they really shouldn¡¯t even have stood the chance if it was the right thing to do?


    ¡°You know, Samuel didn¡¯t tell me why you¡¯re here,¡± Frye interrupted her musings. ¡°So, are you trying to avoid causing a panic in case someone is bugging your phone, or did you find something ¡­ interesting?¡±


    Samuel. Who was tha- ¡­ oh, right, Harper¡¯s first name. Interesting that Frye used it, though.


    ¡°There¡¯s a dragon in the jungle,¡± Jaclyn said, deciding it was for the best to just outright rip off the band-aid, and handed over the thin folder Daedalus had given her. ¡°Some kind of deposed empress who¡¯s actually at a high rank but crippled herself escaping the angry mob. Daedalus warned us, and asked us for any help we could give. We need to get a proper contract with Daedalus and the Worldstrider Tribe, yesterday.¡±


    ¡°And this is how you¡¯re going to make it happen. But I wouldn¡¯t call it interesting,I¡¯d call it world-changing,¡± Jaclyn stated, deciding not to drag things out any more than that and producing the vial of potion, which she then set on the table between them. ¡°This is a healing potion so powerful that we can¡¯t even identify it. A few drops can fix basically anything. Gula kept some for her tribe, and I¡¯ll take some for the delving team, but you can use the rest. I just need something to fill it into.¡±


    Frye looked stunned for a moment before catching himself. ¡°How long do we have?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, and I don¡¯t think Daedalus knows either,¡± Jaclyn admitted.


    ¡°Broad timeframe, can we talk for an hour without the world ending?¡±


    Oh, that¡¯s what he¡¯d meant.


    ¡°We should have a few weeks,¡± she told him. ¡°But we shouldn¡¯t rely on that.¡±


    ¡°Good, so we can make sure that potion is safely stored.¡±


    He grabbed a piece of paper from his desk and took a few steps towards the door before stopping.


    ¡°I have some armored sample containers ¡­ somewhere,¡± he said as he put the paper back down with a sigh. ¡°Two layers of glass, the outer layer¡¯s armored, the inside is chemically resistant, we¡¯ve also got two different versions in case something can eat into one version of glass but not the other, plus testing strips to make sure you know what to put in which one ¡­ they were meant for sample collection in the jungle, but they should work here too. I¡¯ll send someone to find them.¡±


    With that, he grabbed his phone and made a quick call to whoever was in the best position to go fetch the stuff, talking while walking in a circle.


    Jaclyn just continued to look around.


    Under normal circumstances, him neither knowing where his stuff was, nor whom to ask, would have been a bad sign for his leadership abilities. But Jaclyn knew he¡¯d likely ordered literal tons of whatever he or his subordinates felt was useful.


    However, that stuff was almost certainly lying in a storage room somewhere, likely not even unboxed in most places.


    Sure, eventually, it would be a matter of minutes, maybe a quarter of an hour, to find what one needed. Just ask whoever was in charge of distributing the gear in the logistics branch of the organization and they¡¯d either get it for you or fetch an expert when necessary. And dropping off Dungeon loot to be analyzed or processed would be practically automated by that point, with whoever was in a position to pick up that stuff either knowing what to do with everything or knowing who to pass the ball to.


    Then, Frye gave the vial a nervous glance.


    ¡°How tough is that thing?¡±


    Jaclyn shrugged but carefully grabbed the vial back and stored it in a pocket on the inside of her jacket. It was an outfit she used to cover her gun when she had it in a shoulder holster, and also had an inside pocket meant to hold something she didn¡¯t want to have easily stolen.


    ¡°We probably should check once the potion is safe somewhere else. I wouldn¡¯t want to find out it¡¯s fragile by wasting millions of pounds worth of potion.¡±


    ¡°Millions?¡± Frye asked. ¡°More like billions.¡±


    As if only now realizing that he was still on his feet, he turned and returned to his place behind his desk.


    Jaclyn had to admit he was likely right, her initial appraisal had been way off. Certain modern drugs could be incredibly expensive to produce, and this potion could do almost anything they did. Throw in the rarity of the potion, which would drive up the price further, and the sheer convenience of nigh-instant healing, and the Dungeon was likely to be overrun with treasure hunters the instant the potion became known to the public.


    And then, the museum would run red with blood ¡­ at least until Daedalus took advantage of his Dungeon power to clean up the mess of blood and bodies so thoroughly that the delvers might as well have vanished into thin air. Turning the Dungeon into a black hole that had consumed a vast but unknown number of humans who¡¯d overestimated their own abilities.


    ¡°Anyway, I have a few things I wanted to talk to you about,¡± Frye said once he was back in his chair. He used a key to unlock one of his desk¡¯s drawers to produce two thin folders.


    If these had been locked up when everything else was out and about, visible to anyone who made it inside past all the admittedly not-inconsiderable security outside, they had to be important. And they looked official. Not in the ¡°has all the correct letterheads and so on¡± kind of official, but as in ¡°something that will be handed over with all due pomp and ceremony to a head of state¡±.


    ¡°Proposals for the treaty with the Worldstrider tribe, and probably Daedalus too?¡± Jaclyn asked. Even if they hadn¡¯t talked about making sure those were ready, it would have been obvious.


    ¡°Anything specific you want me to pay attention to?¡±


    The corners of Frye¡¯s mouth twitched up as he slid the folders across the tabletop.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got more experience with them than anyone who drafted these, anything you feel matters probably does. And a general sanity check probably wouldn¡¯t go amiss either. That shouldn¡¯t be a problem, but it¡¯s rather unfortunate how often small things slip through. I could also use some ideas for incentives for getting help with the dragon.¡±


    So Frye just wanted her to give her opinion, based on the things she was actually good at/knowledgeable about. That was a good sign. Someone who decided to make a subordinate do a job that they weren¡¯t qualified for wasn¡¯t being a very good leader. You didn¡¯t just need to delegate, you needed to delegate to the right people.


    The contracts were long. Some fifty pages each, written in fairly small font. When she¡¯d picked them up, Jaclyn had wondered how much of that could possibly be necessary, but as she¡¯d started to read them, it was becoming obvious that everything in these literal blocks of legalese had its place. Its paragraph long, overly precise, surprisingly uncomplicated, place.


    Legal documents were funny like that.


    Though Jaclyn knew quite a few people who didn¡¯t read contracts outside looking at stuff like pay, they were so fed up with trying to decipher all that legalese.


    Anyway, it was pretty obvious that these treaties were meant to be signed by regular, albeit intelligent, people, not lawyers or diplomats. Someone had clearly put enough thought into the process that the final product had been adapted for its intended audience.


    Then again, the currently extremely slim government was working quite efficiently, with shorter chains of command that were more likely to properly convey orders, rather than the usual high-stakes game of Chinese Whispers that often bedeviled the administration.


    That being said, though, a small government wasn¡¯t all good. For starters, a few people running things with emergency powers for too long would be nothing other than a dictatorship. Not to mention that there were plenty of things that a slim and lean governing body simply didn¡¯t have the manpower to handle.


    There was a reason why the government had been as large as it had been, even if that also had its own drawbacks.


    In the immortal words of Winston Churchill, ¡°democracy is the worst form of government ¡­ except for all others that have been tried¡±. Far from perfect, it may be, it was closer than everything else.


    The treaty for Daedalus was filled with long paragraphs of mutually beneficial ideas and thorough definitions for every term mentioned.


    But it basically boiled down to a few points:


    - Daedalus had to provide adequate warnings about the dangers of his Dungeon


    - Daedalus had to keep out people under the influence, as well as those who were entering the Dungeon against their will, though he had a considerable breadth of available options for dealing with it


    - Daedalus had to provide a place for beginners to grow, as well as an area appropriate for each Rank above F in so far as that was possible, once there were people who needed those kinds of places


    - Daedalus had to keep his Dungeon open for business, though allowances were made for retaliating against people who, somehow, managed to abuse him or his Dungeon, as well as closing his doors for the time needed to restructure his place


    - Daedalus had to help with certain matters of vital importance on a national level, which threatened England as a whole


    Jaclyn paused at that last one.


    ¡°We should probably add the current dragon situation as an example of something he should help with.¡±


    ¡°Which he won¡¯t refuse because he already asked for our help with the dragon, so the point is unlikely to be refused,¡± Frye continued her train of thought, already having pulled up his laptop, but he was not typing something. Probably, he was already implementing her suggestion.


    ¡°Also, we should probably define the kinds of help he¡¯ll provide. Is it just going to be raw material and the few monsters he can use outside his Dungeon, or do we ask for permission to lure all problems into the Natural History Museum and leave them there for him to deal with?¡± Jaclyn suggested.


    ¡°What material help can he provide?¡± Frye asked.


    ¡°Possibly potions, depending on how expensive they are to make,¡± Jaclyn said. ¡°And he can hand out summoning tokens that let you send a tiger or something into battle for you. But if we¡¯re asking a lot, we should probably offer a reward on top of ¡®do it for your country¡¯. And I don¡¯t think he considers England to be ¡®his¡¯ country.¡±


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°Uh, you haven¡¯t reached page 35, have you?¡± Frye asked.


    ¡°We should probably move the section that describes rewards for that kind of help right after the section that asks for the moon,¡± Jaclyn suggested while she leafed through the treaty until she reached the part he¡¯d mentioned.


    Basically, they¡¯d pay fair market value for any help they received, with ¡°fair market value¡± being defined as ¡°any requested materials equal in value to the provided material support, insofar as said support has a defined value, in situations lacking such definitions ¡­¡± yeah that part went on for a while but it basically boiled down to ¡°we¡¯re paying, but if things go pear-shaped, we¡¯d like our support up front¡±.


    There was also a clause about how some loot would be given to Daedalus, and if the threat died in the Dungeon, he could keep it in its entirety but might be called upon to provide parts as loot.


    However, that was really getting into the weeds of the situation.


    Generally, the things Daedalus was getting were pretty simple:


    - He¡¯d get to keep the areas he¡¯d claimed, the land would officially become his, though he might be asked to produce or replicate certain invaluable museum pieces


    - He wouldn¡¯t get blamed for the deaths of anyone who walked into the Dungeon with full awareness of the risks


    - He¡¯d be free from any taxes and similar government functions, both those currently existing and those that were yet to be written


    Basically, Daedalus got to operate as he had, and the only thing that would really change for him was that he had to provide a place for Granger and people of his Level to grow.


    ¡°I think he¡¯ll be fine with it,¡± Jaclyn said. ¡°But I can¡¯t guarantee I caught everything. And he might decide to try and add or change some things just to see if he has any control over the situation.¡±


    ¡°At least that¡¯s better than him deciding to change some things just to prove the power of his position,¡± Frye shrugged.


    Oh, Jaclyn knew exactly what he meant. Bosses who, when presented with a good, nay, perfect, project, would change something, potentially even making the end result worse, just so that they had made some contribution. That being said, it was more likely that it was a matter of proving their authority to their underlings. Though anyone who worked under such a person was doubtlessly fully aware of their boss¡¯ authority and how said authority could be and was abused.


    And with that done, it was time to move on to the second treaty. Which was simultaneously simpler and more complex than the one she¡¯d already read.


    Simpler because, well, it was simpler, being a variant of a general ¡°immigrating to the UK¡± agreement, and there existed plenty of other documents that the writers of this one could crib from.


    More complex, because it needed to cover so much more ground than the treaty with Daedalus, most of which had been a matter of ¡°live and let live¡±.


    Once again, though, it was a matter of simple concepts having to be described thoroughly enough that all reasonable and most unreasonable misunderstandings could be avoided.


    The Worldstrider Tribe would be granted British citizenship, with all the rights and privileges that entailed, as well as a sizeable chunk of land northeast of London for them to use however they wanted.


    In addition, they¡¯d be getting some additional privileges, such as tax exemptions, and an immunity from Compulsory Purchase Orders and various other government processes that could be abused to screw them over.


    ¡°How thorough is that list?¡± Jaclyn asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know half of these, damned if I know if it covers everything.¡±


    Frye shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know either. There is a lot of legislation out there ...¡±


    He trailed off and began to type something. Jaclyn waited a few seconds before saying something, hoping that he wouldn¡¯t have stopped like that unless the thing he was doing would take very little time. And she was right.


    ¡°Basically, I just added a sentence about how the next paragraph is complete according to what we know, but also covers anything similar that we missed, and that would be an oversight, not maliciousness.¡±


    ¡°Good idea,¡± Jaclyn said. ¡°Now they¡¯re going to ask if we mean that paragraph, and if something that ¡­ diffuse is legally binding.¡±


    ¡°It probably is,¡± Frye said.


    ¡°It¡¯ll take ¡­ maybe a year for someone with their system to become Sherlock Holmes,¡± Jaclyn pointed out. ¡°And they won¡¯t even have to sacrifice much if they only focus on lie detecting.¡±


    It had taken her a few weeks to get her physical Skills to the ¡°supernatural¡± degree, but those had started out already quite high and she¡¯d taken full advantage of the ludicrous growth rate in Dungeons for most of that. Leveling up a non-combat Skill during the course of regular life should be far slower.


    But becoming Sherlock Holmes was just a matter of picking the right set of Skills and focusing on boosting them.


    She¡¯d even created a loadout for that, but never equipped it since playing detective was a job for, well, detectives, a group she was no longer a part of.


    Situational Awareness, Bullshit Radar and Focus for information gathering combined Logical Thinking and Deductive Reasoning for information processing, and finally, Learning to increase the rate at which she picked up general information that could support her deductive reasoning, as well as helping her retain any information she picked up.


    That last one in particular was what really defined Holmes, in her mind.


    As a police officer, if there was some kind of exotic pollen on someone¡¯s clothes, or the victim had been killed with a unique weapon or rare combat style, the lab would tell her. That, or they¡¯d send matters to some kind of expert, and then it would be them who told her.


    Holmes just ¡­ knew, almost never having to pick up a book or ask around for someone more knowledgeable on the topic.


    But that was a tangent that didn¡¯t really matter. At least not beyond the fact that the Worldstrider Tribe almost certainly had people capable of seeing through any chicanery set up by the government. And if they couldn¡¯t see through it, they were still likely to smell a rat. Jaclyn¡¯s Bullshit Radar Skill had already reached a point where her ability to detect lies had noticeably increased, and she hadn¡¯t even been at this for a month.


    Jaclyn continued to read through the treaty proposal.


    The entire Tribe would also be explicitly insulated from government overreach in an oddly sincere promise, followed by a request for access to the Village Nexus to a broad but still not unlimited degree, a pattern that repeated a few times.


    Overall, in exchange for helping England through this mess, the new orcish citizens would gain privileges closer to that of the aristocracy than regular folks. Largely fair, though, Jaclyn admitted. And it was likely a vital part of the treaty that they did have those protections. Widely disliked nomads would doubtlessly be wary of tying themselves to a given location, potentially trapping themselves.


    There were a few clauses that were so complicated that Jaclyn suggested they be changed. Not because she thought the members of the Worldstrider Tribe were stupid, mind you, but because she knew their values.


    Honestly, and openness, things that the overly complicated and elaborate phrasing prevalent in official documentation were the exact opposite of.


    That was when she reached the final part of the treaty, which stated that the tribe would get to keep up to a third of London ¡­ if they cleared it. The British Government had to be given the right of first refusal on items of national importance, and access had to be granted to any Dungeons in the claimed area,


    Jaclyn sucked in air through clenched teeth as she read that.


    ¡°That ¡­ that reads like something you¡¯d find in a book about the history of colonialism,¡± she said, turning the folder around to show Frye what she was reading. He had the good grace to look abashed.


    ¡°Yeah, I told them that too.¡±


    And he¡¯d been ignored.


    ¡°Add some language about being paid market price for the items, and that a list will be provided ahead of time so no one can just decide that something is of ¡®vital historical importance¡¯ because they want something. And if they discover new Dungeons, they¡¯ll get something out of it,¡± Jaclyn suggested.


    ¡°Half of all tax income generated?¡± Frye suggested.


    ¡°How are delvers taxed?¡± Jaclyn wondered.


    ¡°They aren¡¯t, not yet,¡± Frye said. ¡°The plan is to tax income based on where the value of the loot would put you in a regular tax bracket, but loot you personally use for delves is exempt.¡±


    ¡°We can work with that,¡± Jaclyn said.


    ***


    They wound up spending almost an hour talking about this or that, until Frye finally took the folders back and put away the laptop.


    He then looked at her across the table, retrieving yet another sheath of paper, though this one was laminated.


    ¡°I recently finished the organizational chart for the Bureau of Preternatural Affairs, including assigning titles to each role. And I was hoping to invite you onboard ona more permanent basis.¡±


    Jaclyn took the proffered paper. She was already seconded to the BPA, just operating out of the precinct due to proximity to the Worldstrider Tribe¡¯s camp, but permanently transferring ¡­ that was something to be considered, but not immediately be said yes to.


    Frye¡¯s role was, of course, the big guy in charge, with the title of Director.


    The slot directly below him, that of the Deputy Director, was empty, devoid of a name, but it had an additional title. ¡°Strike Team Commander¡±. The job she was supposed to carry out once there was something command.


    There were more names in the chart, some that she recognized, like one Samuel Harper being in charge of all things medical, but most were new to her. Like a Ms. Nicole Foster, who was the Director of Operations, directly beneath the Deputy Director.


    But there were two things that stood out to her.


    First, the confusion of whether someone else had taken the job she was supposed to get, or if her position had just been massively elevated.


    And second, the split of the chart at the directorate level.


    Frye was in charge of everything.


    The Deputy Director slash Strike Team Commander was in charge of, well, the Strike Teams and while they technically had authority over the rest of the Bureau, their area of responsibility was fairly small while most of the logistics ran through the Director of Operations to the Director himself.


    Was that what Frye had meant when he¡¯d promised to keep the paperwork out of her head as much as possible?


    It had to be, didn¡¯t it?


    And yet, that was an insanely high position to give her.


    But before she asked why she¡¯d gotten it, she had to make sure she wasn¡¯t misreading it.


    ¡°Did you find someone else for the position of Strike Team Director?¡± she asked.


    ¡°No, still you,¡± Frye shrugged, looking calm as can be.


    ¡°The job¡¯s a hot potato, isn¡¯t it?¡± Jaclyn asked.


    In her mind, there were three possible reasons for why someone relatively inexperienced would have gotten this job. Sure, at thirty-seven, she was no immature kid with zero life experience, but people in these kinds of jobs were usually older ¡­ though that being said, Frye couldn¡¯t be any older than her age.


    So, she could have gotten the job because she was literally the last person in the country with the correct qualifications, but she doubted it. Even with a gutted government, there had to be more than one candidate.


    Another option was that he needed someone to fail so that their successor could look better by comparison, but Frye needed to make the whole Bureau look good right now, so that was unlikely to be it.


    And the third option was that the job was a hot potato she needed to get rid of right the hell now.


    ¡°It¡¯s more of a ¡®use it or lose it¡¯ situation,¡± Frye admitted. ¡°Things are stabilizing, and the old boys¡¯ network is starting to figure out how many new positions are open and ready to be filled. I¡¯ve already gotten several ¡®unofficial applications¡¯ from old school ¡®friends¡¯ of mine, and they aren¡¯t exactly qualified.


    ¡°I need to appoint a deputy while I can still pretend that I¡¯m not snubbing half the political dynasties in the country.¡±


    ¡°And what does that make me, your only option?¡± Jaclyn asked. To be honest, the more she thought about it, the more she wanted the job, but she was also not about to step straight into the middle of some kind of political shitstorm because she¡¯d been so enamored with a job offer that she¡¯d failed to ask any of the relevant questions.


    Better to lose the offer than take Frye up on it only to later discover a disastrous sting in the tail.


    ¡°Are you aware of the book ¡®On War¡¯, by Carl von Clausewitz?¡± Frye asked, but she shook her head.


    ¡°Think ¡®Art of War¡¯, but five times as thick, and German. Both books are recommended reading in most military academies the world over. ¡®On War¡¯ has a really interesting chapter that discusses the difference between theory and practice, how theoretical knowledge is useful but practical experience is essential. And that critical thinking is utterly essential in a military officer.¡±


    Jaclyn nodded. Neither of them was in the military, but this role seemed to be getting pretty close. So she just waited for him to continue.


    ¡°I can think of a hundred armchair generals who¡¯d love to have the job of deputy director, and I¡¯ve personally met more than half of those. But I don¡¯t need someone who¡¯s all book learning, zero practical experience. I can afford to have a deputy who¡¯s got some stuff to learn about politics and high-level leadership as long as they¡¯ve got a good head on their shoulders and I know they¡¯re not going to crumple under the pressure or the current mess.


    ¡°And you, specifically, are going to keep me honest, and make sure that I hear about any issues with the troops when they crop up, not ten weeks later after everyone between me and the problem tried to fix things themselves and failed.


    ¡°What I can¡¯t have is some old-money fop who might have memorized the biographies of every important military and political leader since the signing of the Magna Carta, but who¡¯ll fold like yesterday¡¯s laundry the moment they come face to face with an orc.¡±


    So, he¡¯d picked her for a lack of better options. How nice.


    Not to mention that by now, Jaclyn was pretty sure he ran in the same social circles as these ¡°old money fops¡±, even if he seemed to be much more down to Earth than she pictured the usual high society blowhards to be.


    ¡°How likely is this job going to bite me in the ass?¡± she finally asked after a long, awkward, pause.


    ¡°You stopped a rogue cultivator who would have done God only knows what if you hadn¡¯t caught him, managed to broker preliminary deals with both the supernatural forces that are probably going to be what ensures we, as a country, survive this catastrophe, and you¡¯re already one of the strongest people in the world. If you do half as good a job here, you¡¯ll still do better than any candidate I can think of.¡±


    That ¡­ she hadn¡¯t thought about it too much, but when he put it like that, it did sound like she was the most qualified candidate, even if it was theoretically possible for Frye to find someone better.


    Jaclyn liked her current job, she really did, it was important, impactful, and fulfilling, but she was also more than aware of its darker sides. How some people saw cops, reacted to them, what image they¡¯d have of anyone who put on the uniform.


    She certainly didn¡¯t run around announcing her status as an officer to all and sundry, and she knew some colleagues who treated their jobs as secrets comparable to a superhero¡¯s secret identity. And the worst part was that, sometimes, she couldn¡¯t even blame them.


    Setting everything else aside about this new job, it was a place away from all that. Somewhere she could set the rules, and shape the perception of this agency. A place where she could do more than she ever had thought possible, in the greatest crisis she was ever likely to encounter.


    ¡°Alright, where do I sign?¡± Jaclyn asked.


    And that was that, for the most part. She learned that the BPA was actually going to stay in Cambridge, the city that was, not the university, since the Worldstrider¡¯s soon-to-be domain was just a few kilometers east and they needed easy access to the Village Nexus.


    However, until the jungle was properly tamed, they¡¯d likely be operating out of a satellite office in London, in which both she and the Director of Operations would likely be running directly. Well, the Director of Operations would be dealing with the paperwork and fighting politics, Jaclyn would be training new fighters and just generally combatting the jungle.


    In a few weeks, at least. Right now, her focus would be on making sure those treaties were signed and preparing things against the dragon, while Frye made sure to build up the Bureau that would back these operations.


    She also wound up asking him how he knew Harper, just in case she was running the risk of getting the boot the instant the Director¡¯s boyfriend or similar got injured.


    As it turned out, they knew each other from school, that was all. At least that was what Frye had told her, but she believed him.


    Jaclyn also arranged to have Granger transfer to the BPA too, as a high-ranking member of the research division. But not one with much authority beyond the ability to requisition the materials he needed, since the more time he spent having to deal with paperwork, the less time he was spending doing what he was actually supposed to do. Specifically, coming up with new stuff.


    Eventually, though, it was time for her to return to London to finish things up there, start searching for a good place to set up the satellite office, and potentially find a new apartment.


    She bade the Director goodbye and left, only to be interrupted before she reached the door.


    ¡°Oh, and one more thing, Deputy Director Abrams,¡± Frye called out to her, waiting for her to turn around before continuing. ¡°No more tests, I promise. You¡¯ve got the job, and you¡¯re going to keep it until you decide to leave ¡­


    He chuckled softly.


    ¡° ¡­or wind up getting promoted to replace me. Point is, from today and until the end of time, you can trust that when I say something, it won¡¯t be part of a test or job interview.¡±


    ¡°You know, that could be just another test, Director,¡± Jaclyn responded with a hard stare before cracking a smile to show she was only taking the mikey. ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to working with you.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t upset.


    Sure, he¡¯d woven tests into their previous conversations, trying to make sure she was qualified, and wasn¡¯t that his job? Making sure that the people he hired wouldn¡¯t cock it all up?


    He hadn¡¯t sent or off on weird tangents or made her do superfluous tasks. He¡¯d just observed how she completed the jobs he¡¯d asked her to do.


    ***


    The road trip back to London was fairly peaceful, if silent. Granger was focused on the road with one train of thought while occasionally casting cleanse around the car. But judging by how he wasn¡¯t driving any worse when multitasking like that, he was taking full advantage of his power to make this safe.


    And Jaclyn was deep in thought. But her mind wasn¡¯t drifting off in random directions this time around. Instead, she was making plans. Concrete, thorough, plans for the future. Imagining how she¡¯d proceed from here, where she¡¯d move since she couldn¡¯t live in a hotel room forever, and her previous thoughts on the matter weren¡¯t exactly up to date anymore since she didn¡¯t know in which location she¡¯d be working from now on.


    Not to mention that there was that dragon that needed to be brought down at some point.


    And so on, and so forth. Until her radio practically exploded with noise.

 Chapter 61: Draconic Vengeance

    These people were all cowards. At least to the eyes of a dragon, however human their current shell might have been.


    Alaxia Mystscale had finally managed to track down that damnable thief who¡¯d dared pilfer the treasures she¡¯d prepared in anticipation of having to make use of her bolthole.


    Yet she couldn¡¯t just go ahead and murder the bastard, no that would be too easy. A phantom that arrived before anyone could blink and obliterate the target might cause a stirr, but that could have been anyone. Anyone.


    Showing up later to reveal herself would only result in a lukewarm response. And showing off during the fight, or standing over a dead body, that would not work. Posing in the battle would be dangerous even for her, with how she was still recovering, and making a declaration while covered in blood would send a slightly darker message than she wanted to.


    It was better to be feared and loved, because love was fickle while fear lasted nigh-eternally, but if her subjects were so terrified of her that the prospect of continuing to live under her rule was a greater source of terror than the consequences of rebellion, they¡¯d rebel.


    As her previous domain had handily demonstrated.


    This time, though, she¡¯d do better. After all, it might have taken a near-death experience, banishment through the cosmos, and the very multiverse itself undergoing a fundamental shift, but even a being as old and set in its ways as her could learn.


    Hence, the plan. Walk down the street of this strange and unfamiliar city in broad daylight, attracting as much attention as she could without outright misbehaving. Until someone decided to react in a way she could rightfully penalize as a demonstration of what happened to those who got in her way.


    At that point, she could finally tear apart that gods-cursed thief, that misbegotten spawn of a bonnacon¡¯s inbred cousin who¡¯d dared to take what was rightfully hers.


    Alaxia shivered as she thought of the creature she¡¯d just brought up. Overgrown idiotic cows that could literally acres of land in their feces when startled, and they were startled by literally anything and everything. This world might be a mess devoid of energy and natural treasures, but at least it seemed to lack that particular pest. A pest that was somehow still more intelligent than that utter braindead moron who¡¯d decided that her supplies were his to use.


    Now all that she needed to was find someone to try and make a stand. The town watch who¡¯d cordoned off the Jungle of the Verdant hells with a barricade that would fold at the first sign of a breakout had let her through.


    Sure, they¡¯d tried to hand her various cards and attempted to get her to stay behind for some manner of medical procedure, but overall, it wasn¡¯t something she felt deserved consequences. Sadly. Really, it¡¯d have been almost sweet, if she¡¯d needed the help of such lowly beings. They were always causing all manner of issues but the one time she actually needed trouble, they were on their best behaviour.


    She sighed and continued to march down the wide road, which was covered in some manner of sizeable, solid, rock-like, material. Based on the countless small chunks of rock stuck inside, it was an alchemical creation that had been poured over the ground.


    Impressive. Very impressive. Creating something like this with such inferior materials ¡­ once she¡¯d taken over, she knew which craftsmen would be the first to join her legion of personal alchemists.


    But whoever had created these enchanted carriages would die a horrible death, she promised herself that. Granted, they worked, but by the gods, they stank. They were also loud, annoying, and several had almost crashed into her. Clearly, their drivers had the good sense to not run over royalty.


    Alaxia rolled her eyes and continued to walk ¡­ until someone crashed into her rear.


    The one good thing about doing this in the form of one of these hairless monkeys? She didn¡¯t have a tail to run over. That would have been ¡­ unpleasant.


    She stumbled several steps forward while the badly damaged machine began to whine. Loudly.


    Oh, finally.


    ¡°How. Dare. YOU!¡± she roared, whirling around, raising a fist and bringing it down on the block of metal that likely served as the carriage¡¯s means of propulsion, tearing clean through while her Verdant Soulflame transformed into multiple serpents of emerald flame that ripped the machine to bits.


    Moving slowly, deliberately, full of regal grace, she drew her arm back and turned around, imperiously ignoring the driver of the vehicle scrambling out of it.


    As the fool ran, she continued on her way, until an unearthly howling began to fill the air. She decided to likewise ignore it ¡­ until it became clear that the source of said howling was the vehicles of the local watch. At least that was what the uniforms suggested.


    Alaxia still ignored them until they pulled out some kind of particularly noisy metal implements and metal projectiles began to bounce off her skin.


    She sighed. Give her a good fight any day, this was just trying her patience, where she ignored the metallic, horizontal rain that might eventually ruin her clothing if she let it go on for long enough.


    Sure, she unleashed the occasional firey serpent of heat lance to destroy an empty car, but annihilating the local watch en masse might send an overly extreme message, which she was trying to avoid.


    ¡°Where are your champions?¡± she bellowed, then fixing a single cowering woman with a hard stare. ¡°Do your leaders care so little for you that all they send to defend you are these weaklings?¡±


    The woman just withdrew further, wilting under her gaze, and began to cry.


    Urgh. It seemed the watch wasn¡¯t the only pathetic thing in this world.


    Slowly, she was starting to doubt whether she even wanted to rule this trash heap. And eventually, as she reached the outside of the city, the area where people still lived, she was greeted with actual trash heaps. As if her opinion of these hairless monkeys couldn¡¯t get any lower.


    But if she saw something that offended her eyes to a degree she truly could not overlook, she could just annihilate it.


    Growing ever more annoyed, Alaxia closed the distance to her target, more and more metal projectiles bouncing off her, including heavier ones, and some that exploded, until someone finally stepped in her path who wasn¡¯t a powerless weakling.


    ***


    Some kind of madwoman had emerged from the jungle. A haughty, arrogant, magic-slinging madwoman.


    Won. Der. Ful.


    Jaclyn sighed. Another cultivator. At least that was the hope, because she could almost certainly beat another person hopped-up on natural treasures, only skilled at the magically learned techniques powered by their cultivation.


    Everything else ¡­ it might just be the fear of the unknown, but Jaclyn had to admit, the other possibilities did scare her.


    Some kind of magical beast that only looked human, someone who¡¯d somehow found another System out in the Dungeon, or an actual human mutated by some kind of magical ¡­ thing to gain the ability to laugh off bullets and unleash constructs of emerald flame, while also, on occasion, sealing off entire streets with whatever plantlife could be found.


    All horror scenarios.


    Though there was one thought that refused to leave her head, stubbornly reminding her of the one threat she knew to be out there. Well, other than the Dungeon.


    The phrase ¡°snake made of fire¡± made alarm bells shrill in her head. Sure, she¡¯d expected the dragon to look like, well, a dragon, but weren¡¯t there plenty of stories of dragons turning into humans?


    Jaclyn knew better than to psych herself out before she even knew what was up with a given situation, she really did. But something about this whole affair just made every single one of her instincts scream dire warnings.


    And even then, running was not an option.


    She didn¡¯t even have to tell Granger to redirect the car to the sight of the incident, he¡¯d already done that all on his own.


    So Jaclyn removed her jacket and carefully folded it under the passenger seat where it wouldn¡¯t shift and thereby risk the vials, swept up the mess of paperwork she¡¯d spread out all across the back seats into a halfway-orderly pile which she then placed upon the jacket, jamming it into place so that it would hopefully not make a mess. And then she called Owens, asking he send Gula her way, for the emergency healing she might need, or even help, if the car was far enough.


    That should be it for preparations, shouldn¡¯t it?


    She paused for a moment, then retrieved a single vial and passed it to the young man in the driver¡¯s seat.


    ¡°If something happens, give this to me,¡± she told him.


    ¡°Define ¡®something¡¯,¡± Granger said.


    ¡°If I physically can¡¯t tell you not to use it, give it to me,¡± Jaclyn said. She sincerely hoped this would go well, if not perfectly, but she was also more than aware of how badly things could have gone last time. A sword to the stomach was incredibly dangerous, even if it was a straight through-and-through that hadn¡¯t nicked even a single internal organ.


    But she¡¯d done all the planning she could, and had now turned to just fervently hoping things would go well in between trying to make plans. Jaclyn wasn¡¯t a religious person in general, but it was still essentially a prayer, a deep yearning for the intangible factors that lay well beyond humanity¡¯s ability to affect to fall in her favor. Because as much as it galled her to say so, much as it galled any experts and professional ¡­ anythings to say, sometimes shit just came down to luck, your hard-earned skills be damned.


    The car continued to roar down London¡¯s streets, lights flashing, sirens howling, and after just thirty seconds, the sound of combat reached Jaclyn¡¯s ears. Or at least what she was assuming was combat. She knew what gunshots sounded like, but those other sounds ¡­ what was that? Magic?


    Possibly, but not any she was familiar with.


    ¡°Stop here, watch, make sure to tell anyone who needs to know what¡¯s going on gets the information,¡± she ordered and leaped out of the car, easily landing on her feet despite the vehicle having been going almost eighty miles an hour.


    She charged towards the site of the carnage and ¡­ stopped.


    A woman slightly taller than she was, clad in an emerald green outfit best described as the bastard lovechild of a gi and a ballroom dress covered in more gemstones than Jaclyn had ever seen on an entire ballroom¡¯s worth of high society ladies, with impractically long blond hair cascading down her back.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Despite looking utterly out of place in combat, the woman was tearing her way through anyone who was trying to stop her with both her bare hands and energy attacks.


    However, the strange sight wasn¡¯t what had stopped Jaclyn, not at all. No, that was due to her instincts warning her.


    She primarily used the defensive portion of her Spirit Bond, the raw durability, being hard to grab a hold of and even harder to be hit in her vitals, with her also occasionally taking full advantage of her heightened hearing and sense of smell.


    But during the most dangerous fight of her life, against the cultivator, it was the ¡°know if you have a chance¡± portion that had kept her going. It had insisted she had a chance.


    Admittedly, that chance might just have been that of a fifty-year-old couch potato trying to take down a champion heavyweight boxer, which was only possible by burning a lifetime¡¯s worth of luck, but it was a chance nonetheless.


    Here and now, though, all she saw was her death approaching.


    And normally, that would have given her pause. Sacrificing herself, throwing her body into the path of something as inexorable as an onrushing train for what seemed like zero return, that would have been a step too far. The kind of choice a tragic action hero would have made, not a real person with friends and a child to take care of.


    Doing the job was one thing. Committing literal suicide was a very different situation.


    But not today. Today, she was sad to realize, there was much more at stake than whatever she normally ran into. No back alley brawl that escalated, no gunman who might not have had a hostage or anyone else he could hurt but would put a bullet in the brain of the first person who tried to apprehend him, nothing like that.


    People were already terrified enough, and if this lady tore through every person who stood in her way, it would prove just how overwhelmed the forces of law and order were. Especially if it got out that the Deputy Director of the agency meant to handle everything hadn¡¯t done anything.


    Besides, who was she to stand by and watch as people who lacked her knowledge of just how screwed they were stood and fought?


    All of that flooded her mind, damn near paralyzing her while her power continued to pulse away in her neural circuits, incessantly screaming ¡°YOU¡¯RE GOING TO DIE!¡± over and over again.


    And yet, after barely five seconds, Jaclyn stepped out into the woman¡¯s path and advanced.


    ¡°Stop!¡± she snapped. ¡°Hold it right there, cut that out, and stand down.¡±


    Not the most thought-out demand, but this was only ever going to end one way.


    ¡°Oh, and who are you?¡± the woman asked in an oddly cheerful tone, studying Jaclny as though she were some kind of ¡­ honestly, normally people only used that tone when spotting a cute dog or maybe a hamster.


    ¡°Insp- ¡­¡± Jaclyn cut herself off before she used her old title, then introduced herself properly. ¡°Deputy Director Abrams, of the Bureau of Preternatural Affairs. What the hell do you think you¡¯re doing?¡±


    ¡°Why, I¡¯m looking for someone,¡± the woman grinned, actually standing a little straighter as she introduced herself. ¡°Alaxia Mystscale, future empress of these lands, off to punish a little thief who stole from me.¡±


    Well, that was ¡­ a statement. What was the proper response to that?


    ¡°Yeah, we don¡¯t allow vigilantism here,¡± Jaclyn shook her head, hoping to delay this until, somehow, things grew less grim. Even when everything else was gone, hope remained and she clung to it stubbornly, no matter how thoroughly her senses were screaming at her to run.


    ¡°Ever hear of the rule of law?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re misunderstanding, I am the law,¡± the woman, who¡¯d never stopped walking, grinned at her. And then, she suddenly wasn¡¯t standing five meters from Jaclyn, she was right in her face.


    A hand shot out and grasped Jaclyn¡¯s shoulder, pushing her backwards with enough force that her legs whipped up as her torso flew away, while fingers like hydraulic presses dug into her shoulder.


    At least that was something she could work with. Her strength had skyrocketed while her weight had remained the same, so it was an easy matter to continue to swing her legs up, kick the self-proclaimed ¡°empress¡± in the face with both legs, and then roll off the other side of the arm holding onto her.


    Her opponent¡¯s fingers slammed shut, shredding her blouse and tearing bloody furrows into her shoulder, but in that constellation, not even this monster could keep a hold of her.


    And before her feet had even returned to the ground, Jaclyn was already preparing for her next move, and when she did land, she spun and launched a punch under her opponent¡¯s still-outstretched arm, throwing her entire body behind a blow aimed straight at her foe¡¯s throat.


    With her fingers forming a leopard fist for maximum concentration of force.


    It should have been a lethal blow. This was what the fist form was meant for. Minimized surface area for maximized penetration power, applied straight to whichever vulnerable spot was available to be hit.


    Throw in the fact that the spectral badger¡¯s claws above her knuckles provided an even smaller point of contact and her enemy should have been on the ground, struggling to breathe through a crushed throat, if she wasn¡¯t choking on her own blood from where the claws had ripped clean through the windpipe and everything behind it until they were scraping against her spine.


    But no, the woman just took a single step backwards, looking perfectly fine.


    That was when she retaliated, slamming a basic fist against Jaclyn¡¯s chest.


    Jaclyn managed to get her arms up, crossing them in front of the blow. An idiotic stance for regular combat, just asking to get her own limbs tangled, but her power formed a spectral furry shield above each arm, the lower limb projecting a forcefield past the upper limb to put two layers of energy between her flesh and the incoming fist. It helped ¡­ a little.


    Both force fields shattered like glass but by the time the fist connected with her left forearm, she¡¯d already been moving backwards, having let the forcefield transfer some of the kinetic energy impacting them to her.


    Arm aching, Jaclyn hit the ground ten meters back, groaning, but she was already moving, rolling over her right shoulder straight back into a standing position, fists raised into a combat stance despite the pain, shimmering badger paws manifested.


    ¡°Whatever you¡¯re going to do, I can¡¯t let you,¡± she growled. Chances were she was going to die here, but she wasn¡¯t going to go down without a fight, damnit. If she had to go, she was going out a martyr, an inspiration for whoever was going to eventually take down that bitch of a ¡­ whatever the fuck she was.


    ¡°A woman of principles,¡± the ¡°empress¡± grinned. Right at that moment, Jaclyn had to admit she wouldn¡¯t have been particularly surprised to be petted on the head as though she were a dog, considering how she was being looked at.


    She didn¡¯t respond, just kept her fists up, waiting until something happened she could come up with proper responses to. Because somehow, that statement had left her tongue-tied.


    ¡°Tell me, Abrams, why are you willing to die for a thief?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my job to pick who lives and who dies,¡± Jaclyn shook her head. ¡°We have a division of powers for a reason. My job is to stop people from doing bad things, someone else decides the punishment. And right now, I¡¯m looking at a woman tearing her way through a city full of people, not a thief.¡±


    God, that was a terrible set of lines. But her heart was currently attempting to hammer its way out of her chest, she was hyper-aware of the sweat dripping down her back, and there was a tiny little terrified hamster squeaking away in the back of her mind, reminding her of just how screwed she was.


    At this point, she was half hoping to just get thrown through the nearest wall and get too injured to fight anymore, just so that she didn¡¯t have to stand in this monster¡¯s path anymore. That would even get her out of the risk of making her new agency look ineffective and costing the people their confidence.


    But she¡¯d made the decision to stand between regular people and monsters like the one who stood before her long ago, and reaffirmed it not even a single minute previously.


    ¡°Then show me what you¡¯re capable of,¡± the ¡°empress¡± grinned, throwing herself at Jaclyn. ¡°Show me your worth.¡±


    The first fist slammed into Jaclyn¡¯s stomach, and even though she¡¯d managed to get her arm in the way and manifest another force field, she could feel something go ¡°pop¡± in her insides, and yet even as she folder around her foe¡¯s fist like yesterday¡¯s laundry, she snapped her teeth at the empty air, causing spectral badger¡¯s jaws to clamp down on her opponent¡¯s arm, altering her trajectory to the point where she wound up flipping over her enemy, around the place here phantasmal teeth were deforming ludicrously durable flesh.


    Both of them whirled to face each other, but Jaclyn managed to land a straight shot to the other woman¡¯s kidney, barely drawing a wince.


    But the retaliation was a blast of emerald light that threw her through a nearby shop window.


    She rose, glass crunching beneath her but unable to inflict any damage due to her heightened stats.


    That short span of time was all it had taken for her attacker to turn around and keep moving in the direction she¡¯d been moving before.


    Jaclyn just charged, simultaneously channeling her mana into her right middle and index finger.


    The otherworldly invader heard her coming, obviously, but she managed to duck under a hurled snake of emerald light and jam both fingers into her target¡¯s eyes, discharging the only spell she¡¯d practiced. Cleanse.


    It might not have been able to do any damage, but scrubbing a surface clean was perfectly possible. And where did it say that said surface couldn¡¯t be someone¡¯s eyeball?


    Being poked in the eye sucked. Suddenly having an eyeball that had also been poked be bone-dry all around, including the inside of the socket?


    Excruciating.


    The ¡°empress¡± was suddenly blinking so rapidly she looked like a wonky bit of CGI, but even blind, she was far from helpless, bringing her leg around and slamming it into Jaclyn¡¯s side. It was a bad kick, only striking with the side of her ankle, but with her power, that wasn¡¯t much of a detriment.


    The unmistakable sound of one¡¯s own ribs breaking was the kind of thing you¡¯d never forget.


    And despite how the protestations of an abused body joined the screaming panic of her power, Jaclyn stood back up. She¡¯d made her choice, she wasn¡¯t about to change it, especially when she seemed to have as clean a shot as she was ever likely to get.


    This time, it was her knuckles that she drove into her target¡¯s eyes, prompting a scream, and she dodged before the retaliation had even started, then stomped her foe¡¯s instep, gaining far less of a response.


    A wave of emerald light exploded from the empress, picking Jaclyn up and slamming her into a brick wall with enough force to leave a crater.


    More light then wrapped the monster in human skin standing there, and before Jaclyn could do anything, that light coalesced into a pair of glowing bat¡¯s wings, on which it fled.


    Jaclyn painfully pushed herself to her feet, looking in the direction where her foe had vanished before finally acknowledging the uncharacteristically urgent System notification.


    But when she read it, she almost forgot about the pain.


    Getting kicked around like a football had earned her four Levels?


    ***


    Alaxia Mystscale grinned as she took to the air. Finally, she¡¯d found someone with a spine. That badger woman ¡­ she¡¯d have to be thoroughly broken before she could be useful, but someone willing to stand against her, who¡¯d been Empress of Wyrmroost through power alone, because they¡¯d been ordered to was one abyss of a loyal soldier.


    If she could be convinced to bend the knee without losing her spirit. That would be a balancing act, but one Alaxia had perfected over the millennium.


    Sure, in hindsight, some, ok, most of that should have been spent focussing on properly dominating the population at large, but the peasants were so much less important than her elite warriors and artisans, how could she have known that things would go like that? Subordinating capable people should have let her handle everything indirectly yet properly. But at some point, that system had broken down, and she wasn¡¯t even sure when exactly that had happened.


    Still, she¡¯d survived the aftermath and Wyrmroost, if it still existed, was so far away that she¡¯d never suffer any more consequences from that disaster.


    The current situation, though, there was no way she could allow a precedent to be established about how it was alright to steal from her. No way in the abyss.


    At least she¡¯d figured out how to create her wings again using a combination of her Verdant Soulflame and Manaborne Legion.


    Some kind of screaming metal contraption flew towards her, unleashing another blast of metal projectiles as it whipped past, but more flames erased it from the sky.


    Oh, this was a very annoying world. So many craftsmen to kill ¡­


    But there was that little leech, right down there, in what looked like a prison. Fully mundane. How could he still be this weak after using all the things he had pilfered?


    Alaxia grinned and banked to the side, dropping like a stone and unleashing a ray of flame to blow clean through the barriers until she reached the floor in front of the thief in a single move.


    She stood up, straightening her clothing as she did so, and marched clean through the bars of the cell. The thief jumped up, panicked, gathering his qi to react, but suddenly, some kind of magic caused him to suddenly jump in surprise and his concentration broke.


    He¡¯d let himself be chained, somehow. Pathetic.


    At that point, Alaxia no longer saw any reason to hold back or try anything else.


    Her hand punched clean through that low-life¡¯s chest, fingers ripping his heart to shreds. And as she drew her hand back, dripping blood, black-colored flames erupted from her skin, gradually returning to their regular emerald green as the stain burned away.


    Behind her, the corridor had already been filling with guards for a while, but until now, she¡¯d been ignoring their presence and shouted orders.


    With deliberate slowness, Alaxia turned around, still holding up her burning hand as it burned itself clean.


    She grinned. ¡°This man is a thief who stole more from me than you¡¯ll all earn across ten lifetimes. No monarch could possibly let that go. But I bear you no ill will, and if anyone wishes to rise above their current station and claim real power, I¡¯ll be waiting the Jungles of the Verdant Hells.¡±


    They tried to stop her, of course they did, but all they managed to do was earn themselves a few broken bones by forcing her to clear her way out.


    As she flew back towards her hideout in the jungle, Alaxia was saidly forced to obliterate a few more flying contraptions, including one that was kept aloft by a spinning circle of blades. An interesting variant of the standard flying sword, one that seemed to be far cheaper to use, requiring so little qi that she couldn¡¯t even sense the enchantment, the same as it had been with literally every other machine she¡¯d seen.


    Alaxia grinned as she landed within the circle of broken-down vehicles that imbecile had built atop her bolthole, even that sight unable to break down her good move. She¡¯d shown what would happen to those who crossed her, found a few interesting people to become her minions, and made it known what awaited those who did join her. She¡¯d achieved everything she needed to be.


    Just like that time she¡¯d dethroned her mother, when countless people had come to swear their fealty to Wyrmroost¡¯s new monarch. All she had to do was wait.

 Chapter 62: Silver Linings

    Levels were all well and good, but they really didn¡¯t matter in the here and now.


    What mattered was, well, the fact that her insides felt like they were made of broken glass and ground meat.


    And beyond that, her self-created martial Skill came with a hefty dose of self-diagnosing power when it came to combat injuries, and it was telling her that she had internal bleeding from several sources. That would be ¡­ almost impossible to fix.


    The kinds of injuries she¡¯d suffered usually required surgery to repair, but with how tough she was, it¡¯d take the likes of a diamond cutter to operate on her. And she sincerely doubted making the attempt would go well.


    In the meanwhile, Gula might have had healing magic, but hers was more geared towards diseases and toxins. Would that really be enough, especially with the limit on how quickly she could use it in rapid succession?


    Thankfully, with her power no longer telling her she should be scared out of her mind, she was back to her old self, completely, no distractions.


    So, first, she needed to get her hands on one of the potions she¡¯d left with Granger, at least if Gula didn¡¯t show up in time.


    Jaclyn reached for her phone, but only pulled a shattered mess of glass, plastic, and circuitry from her pocket. When had that even ¡­ you know what, it didn¡¯t matter. Point was, she knew where Granger had been at the start of this, he should be somewhere in that direction, and he both had a phone and the potion.


    But before she could take more than a few steps, Granger had already reached her.


    ¡°You okay?¡± he asked, then looked like he¡¯d realized just how dumb a question that had been.


    ¡°Gimme your phone and radio,¡± she told him, focussing on keeping her voice even despite the fact that she wanted to snap at him, to get information about the situation as quickly as she could, but she wasn¡¯t someone who lost her composure like that. And snapping wouldn¡¯t have made things go any quicker, she received the requested items almost immediately. Both in hand, she began to limp towards the car while making some urgent inquiries


    After a mere thirty seconds of back-and-forth communication, she decided that there was no way she was waiting.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take the potion,¡± Jaclyn said, temporarily clamping the radio under her right arm while she extended her hand to Granger, who immediately handed over the vial of green liquid.


    It looked so small, tiny, even, and yet, it seemed to encompass her entire field of view, its importance seemingly warping her sense of reality ¡­ or maybe that was just tunnel vision from blood loss.


    Either way, she unscrewed it, stuck it in her mouth, and tipped her head backwards, feeling the liquid roll across her tongue and down her throat.


    It tasted ¡­ messy. The first sensation she noticed was one of countless herbs, a blend of things she didn¡¯t even have names for intermingled with others that felt faintly familiar and yet were decidedly not the regular tastes she¡¯d encountered in the past, a confusing jumble of individual sensations, some of which might have even been pleasant had they not been piled together in such a ridiculous number.


    And then, it hit her stomach. The liquid had already been dissolving, vanishing into seemingly nothingness on the way down, until it was all gone completely, the sensation of roiling energy having vanished.


    Jaclyn stood there for a moment, puzzled, looking around in confusion. What had happened?


    That was when she realized that she¡¯d straightened without even realizing, rising to her full height instead of being hunched over to minimize the pain from her broken ribs. She was fine. Just like that.


    Sure, the aftertaste of that concoction was growing increasingly vile, but that was an infinitesimal price to pay.


    ¡°Drive back to the precinct,¡± Jaclyn ordered. ¡°I¡¯m calling Frye.¡±


    ¡°Who is this?¡± was Frye¡¯s first question. Understandable, since he couldn¡¯t have Granger¡¯s number saved.


    ¡°Jaclyn Abrams,¡± she said. ¡°We need those treaties signed, yesterday.¡±


    ¡°Abrams? Oh thank god,¡± Frye sighed, and there was a loud creak in the background, as though he¡¯d just let himself collapse into a chair of some kind. ¡°Those videos were ¡­ alarming.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess, people without common sense decided to stick around and film things?¡± Jaclyn asked rhetorically.


    ¡°Are you okay? And when I say ¡®ok¡¯ I don¡¯t mean ¡®can you walk five steps without falling over dead¡¯. Do you want me to send an ambulance or do you want directions to a ¡­ less public clinic? If you¡¯re injured, dealing with that is your priority.¡±


    ¡°I used ¡®the thing¡¯,¡± Jaclyn said, deciding to be circumspect on an unsecured line, leaving it up in the air what ¡®the thing¡¯ was and what it had done to her.


    ¡°I see..


    But Frye had picked up what she¡¯d put down, understanding that she was fully healthy.


    ¡°That same woman was sighted in the facility holding Oliver Fields and killed him,¡± Frye told her. ¡°He was the thief she was talking about, but she went back to the jungle. I don¡¯t want to pursue with what we have right now.¡±


    Oh, that wasn¡¯t good. That was really bad, in fact. But if Frye was redirecting the conversation elsewhere, she¡¯d follow.


    ¡°What do you want to do now?¡± Jaclyn asked.


    ¡°Press conference,¡± Frye sighed. ¡°Things are buggered to hell right now, but thanks to you, we¡¯ve got more than just empty promises. I¡¯ll meet you at the precinct and set up something on the way. Then we pull an all-nighter and make sure we can sign both treaties tomorrow.¡±


    Frye paused briefly to take a breath before continuing.


    ¡°Do you have a spare outfit appropriate for a press conference?¡±


    ¡°Maybe?¡± Jaclyn said. She did have a spare outfit at the precinct, but that was comfortable outdoors wear, nothing formal. And her closet was currently buried in the jungle, while all she had at the hotel room was the result of a spending spree at the Marks and Spencer down the road.


    ¡°I know a tailor shop that¡¯s outside the jungle that handles high society stuff, he should have something good, or at least something he can alter. I¡¯ll text you the address, and the BPA will pick up the tab.¡±


    ¡°What kind of outfit are you looking for?¡± Jaclyn asked. Frye might have said he was done with the tests, but she wasn¡¯t. Not entirely.


    ¡°Something appropriate for your role. Formal pantsuit, preferably. Blue and black color scheme, close as you can get to the strike team uniform designs. But it¡¯s your choice, you got your position because I trust your judgment,¡± Frye answered and Jaclyn grinned.


    She¡¯d already been planning on getting a pantsuit, but matching the colors of the uniform, that was a nice touch, one she¡¯d never even considered. And now that made her wonder about Frye¡¯s exact background. Somewhere in the government, obviously, but where exactly, and what about his social situation? That wasn¡¯t some kind of spy tailor she¡¯d been sent to, but one for high society.


    Still, that was a question for later. She passed their new stop onto Granger, then went back to the phone call.


    ¡°What are the talking points, and what are we avoiding?¡± Jaclyn asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be giving the speech, you¡¯ll mostly be asked questions. Try to keep things focussed on how we¡¯re handling things, preparing strategies for everything, but try to keep as vague as you can without sounding suspicious on the subject of magical healing and how we¡¯re acquiring powers. We don¡¯t need treasure hunters mucking things up. See you in the precinct in an hour.¡±


    And with that, he hung up, leaving Jaclyn alone with her thoughts, contemplating.


    Though before she went too far down that rabbit hole, she shot off a quick message to the officer currently wrangling the precinct¡¯s children, asking him to keep the kids away from the television and make sure no one told Eve something had happened to her mother because of something they saw on the news because she was fine.


    And she checked her status sheet.


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    Name: Jaclyn Abrams


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    Race: Human


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    Class: Anima Monk


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    E-Rank, Level 6 -> 10/20


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    Class Abilities


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    Spirit Bond: Honey Badger (F-Rank)


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    Spirit Projection (E-Rank)


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


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    Statistics (0 points available)


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    Body: 80 -> 100


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    Magic: 5


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    Mind: 75 -> 85


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    Spirit: 74 -> 84


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    Skills


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    Pugilism 23 -> 27


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    Fist of Indomitable Badger 28 -> 29


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    Athletics 24 -> 25


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    Situational Awareness 25


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    Bullshit Radar 17


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    Martial Arts 27 -> 30


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    Alternate Skill Set (currently inactive, switch unavailable)


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    Mana Control 5


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    Utility Magic 4


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    Ballance 13


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    Breathing 7


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    Inspect 3


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    Movement 5


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    ***


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    Four levels, good skill growth, and forty stat points of which she threw half into Body because she needed raw power to make sure that in the next fight, she could actually do damage.


    But with that done, she decided to start thinking, fully losing herself in her contemplations, only paying enough awareness of her surroundings that she could notice threats and respond when spoken to.


    That lady had been the dragon, she was pretty sure about that by now, growing ever more certain the more she thought about it.


    Flame-based powers, not to mention that absurd strength, that sounded like a dragon in human form, didn¡¯t it?


    Not to mention that she¡¯d simultaneously been an experienced fighter while still being terrible at combat. So perhaps she was used to fighting, just not while in human form?


    People who got punched for the first time weren¡¯t as calm as that bitch had been. And they sure as shit didn¡¯t just walk off being poked in the eye like that. They¡¯d panic, fearing they¡¯d lost their sight for good, or blindly flail. They didn¡¯t use sweeping attacks to buy themselves some space.


    And despite that, there were so many things Jaclyn would have done differently, starting with using a proper roundhouse kick instead of what she¡¯d been with. It had almost killed her, sure, but that had been a result of raw power instead of technique. And those fists ¡­ they¡¯d been standard, proper, fists, formed in a way that wouldn¡¯t break one¡¯s thumb the instant you hit something, fingers clenched together, thumb tucked underneath, but that was all. Rote and mechanical.


    With that woman¡¯s toughness, something like a spearhand would have been almost infinitely better. It was simple physics. When you punched something with enough force in a small enough area, you¡¯d tear straight through. Punch with anything less than that and you¡¯d just wind up pushing the target away and compressing it.


    Blows that had sent her flying when they were dealt using fists would have ripped her to pieces if they¡¯d instead been executed using a spearhand.


    On top of this, Jaclyn was focussing on the circumstances of a thief being chased. Oliver Fields had found a bunch of mystic treasures in a jungle. A jungle that had held the bolt-hole of a dragon. And then, someone with vaguely draconic powers had hunted down and murdered Fields for ¡°stealing¡±. Didn¡¯t take Sherlock Holmes to draw that connection, did it?


    It was at this point that the car finally reached the tailor shop, Jaclyn got out, and entered.


    If she hadn¡¯t known this place was here, she¡¯d have walked straight past it.


    Small, but filled with high-end merchandise and a highly skilled proprietor.


    Jaclyn passed along the message about what she wanted, had herself measured, and then, she waited, but she was barely even aware of her surroundings beyond knowing that there were no threats around.


    So, the dragon they¡¯d been gearing up to fight had been human, or at least wearing the form of one.


    Why hadn¡¯t Daedalus warned them about that? Had he been meaning to screw her over?


    No, that couldn¡¯t be it, not if he was half as smart as it seemed. He could have just kept mum on the situation if that was his goal, it was perfectly conceivable that they could have simply not run across each other in that vast jungle.


    She also doubted it had been a simple oversight, he was too detailed on everything else, which then brought her to one simple conclusion. He¡¯d only encountered a minion and made a whole bunch of assumptions based on that.


    That was a problem, something she¡¯d need to point out to him. Police officers were supposed to take things down exactly as they¡¯d happened in their reports, and to keep what the deduced out of the raw reports for a reason, adding their conclusions after the raw information.


    You needed to start your deductions based on a spread of facts as close to objective reality as possible, not something that had already been filtered through someone else¡¯s view of the world.


    Sure, Daedalus was being helpful as he understood it, but some more raw information would have been really nice.


    It was at this point that Jaclyn received her clothes, tried them on in the little cubby set aside for changing, and came out with a tired smile on her face. It fit like a glove, had well-hidden spaces inside for her gun and a vial of potion if they ever got their hands on enough for her to routinely carry some, and overall, she had complete freedom of motion.


    She¡¯d had several pantsuits in her old closet, mostly for court appearances, but she¡¯d always felt like she had to be careful about what she did and how she moved. Not to mention that those suits, unlike this one, were quite uncomfortable


    And then, she finally decided to call up Robert, only to get his mailbox. She rattled off a quick message about how she was fine, news only got part of the relevant information, and how Eve would still be staying with him for the foreseeable future. Things had seemed plenty dire even before the dragon had reared its ugly head.


    It was only a short hop from the tailor¡¯s shop to the precinct, where she was greeted by Frye wearing a new suit, directing several people, and the helicopter sitting on a nearby building told Jaclyn exactly how he¡¯d gotten here so quickly.


    She largely stayed out of the setup, this was decidedly outside her area of expertise, instead choosing to go inside and collapse in her chair.


    Be it coincidence, or due to some kind of cat-innate ESP, Felix found her there and curled up in her lap while she stared off at nothing.


    From there, Jaclyn briefly dropped by the orcish encampment out back, got some more information about how dragons worked in this bizarre world, learned that they did not normally have alternate human forms, and finally collapsed back into her chair once more. Physically healthy she might have been, she felt utterly shattered.


    A nap felt appropriate right now ¡­


    ***


    Jaclyn woke up when Granger was gently shaking her awake, gently lifted the cat off her lap and placed him on the ground, then cast Cleanse to get all the orange hairs off her suit and finally followed him to the front desk, where Frye was preparing himself.


    ¡°Ready?¡± he asked and she nodded, so he led the way out through the main door, stepping up to the lectern that had been set up there.


    ¡°Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.


    ¡°Many of you will no doubt be aware of the footage that was recently spread far and wide, which showed one of the dangers of the jungle in addition to throwing up many additional questions, mainly about the government response. I am here to answer those questions.


    ¡°I am Director Rowan Frye of the Bureau for Preternatural Affairs, and the woman next to me is Deputy Director Abrams, previously of the London Metropolitan Police Department. While I¡¯ve been setting up the Bureau since the moment the jungle appeared, the Deputy Director has been exploring the new lands themselves, uncovering monsters and retrieving materials with supernatural properties.


    ¡°In barely two weeks, we have created an entire national-level agency built to combat supernatural threats while harnessing benign magic for the benefit of the United Kingdom. In another two weeks, we¡¯ll be ready to take on anything that jungle can send at us.¡±


    Jaclyn hid her wince at that proclamation. If he was wrong about that, it¡¯d bite them in the ass in a big way, trashing public trust. But as powerful as her enemy had been, she¡¯d at least drawn blood and even managed to blind her with a simple trick. Sure, neither had let her win, per se, but that also meant that the power gulf between them could not be insurmountably vast. Technique and proper planning would then close that gap, especially with the full power of Daedalus and the Worldstrider Tribe behind her.


    Mystscale was recovering from near-lethal injuries inflicted during her escape, something that Jaclyn had confirmed with her own eyes since if that arrogant bitch had had her full S-Ranked power, that fight would have gone very differently.


    Jaclyn and her allies, in the meanwhile, were on an upward trajectory, gaining power and growing increasingly good at using it. If they managed to grow faster than their foe recovered, and do so before they hit a point where their growth massively slowed, they had a chance.


    But they¡¯d have to act quickly, because time was not on their side. Therefore, if they weren¡¯t ready in two weeks, they were likely buggered anyway.


    As she¡¯d been thinking, though, Frye had been continuing.


    ¡°This speech was meant to be held tomorrow morning, announcing the first treaty with a sapient species other than our own, which is slated to be signed at that time. However, for obvious reasons, I chose to inform you of our efforts today, instead of then.


    ¡°We know the face of our enemy, we know Alaxia Mystscale¡¯s origins, we¡¯ve identified her powers. And soon enough, we¡¯ll demonstrate that the only true royalty we will accept exists at the sufferance of the people!¡±


    His voice rose in volume during the last sentence, earning a few scattered cheers. Understandable, as the speech was mostly being seen by reporters who were paying rapt attention, but it was a good sign nevertheless.


    ¡°Now, do you have any questions, keeping in mind that operational security is an issue here?¡± Frye asked.


    Almost a hundred hands went up, one for every reporter. Oh, crikey.


    ¡°Deputy Director, what exactly are your powers?¡±


    Jaclyn hid a sigh before answering. At least she¡¯d expected the question and had prepared a suitable answer.


    ¡°Their exact nature falls under operational security, however, I¡¯ll clarify some of the things that are visible indicators of my power in use. I¡¯m basically a human honey badger who¡¯s good at martial arts. I¡¯m tough, and I can manifest badger projections.¡±


    And the Q&A session quickly spiraled into an interrogation. Of her. At least Frye had the good grace to not look visibly annoyed at being soundly ignored. Or was he happy with not being the one treated like a particularly interesting bug under a microscope?


    Either way, Jaclyn referred some questions towards others, like saying that people should start engaging with the Worldstrider Tribe, barely holding back from reassuring the reporter who¡¯d asked by saying ¡°they don¡¯t bite¡±, and oocasionally used the ¡°operational security¡± card when necessary.


    Granger also was a surprising amount of help for that, heckling one reporter particularly pushy about her power with a shout of ¡°hey, you¡¯re the one who badgered Achilles into talking about how his heel is vulnerable and then shouted that from the rooftops, right?¡±.


    Apparently, he had a million of those, earning laughs from most people, but searching glares from the pushy jackasses he targeted.


    And eventually, things finally came to an end, when the sky was already growing dark as night fell.


    ***


    Frye let himself fall into a chair in the conference room.


    ¡°So, that¡¯s done, but we need to prepare some things. Do you want to use the conference room here, or fly back to Cambridge? And do you need to do anything before that?¡±


    ¡°Cambridge, please,¡± Jaclyn said. ¡°I need to arrange for Eve to stay with a friend of hers, but once the moppet is squared away, I¡¯m ready.¡±


    ¡°Does your ability to ignore toxins let you drink as much coffee as you want without overdosing?¡± Frye suddenly asked, yawning.


    ¡°How about you introduce me to the Director of Operations, and we¡¯ll handle things while you sleep once we¡¯re back in Cambridge?¡± Jaclyn offered. ¡°I promise we¡¯ll wake you if we need your input.¡±


    Frye tried to answer, but the moment he opened his mouth, he was cut off by a titanic yawn.


    Jaclyn chuckled. ¡°With all due respect, Director, I feel like I should just go ahead and do that.¡±


    ¡°Good i- ¡­¡± a third massive yawn disrupted Frye¡¯s reply, so he just nodded his assent.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be back once I¡¯ve got childcare arranged,¡± Jaclyn told him and headed out.


    She¡¯d long since retrieved her spare phone from her desk, and now, she used it to arrange a sleepover for Eve before searching for good coffee places that were open late in Cambridge. Frye had had a point. She was immune to toxins, but there was no such thing as a ¡°toxic substance¡±, just substances that were toxic even in small amounts. Why not see how far she could abuse that idea?


    And on the way out, she had some more orders for Granger. After all, she¡¯d had an idea.

 Chapter 63: Night at the Museum

    It was a calm evening, all things considered. Something had spooked the ever-loving fuck out of the animals earlier, but things had calmed down over the course of several hours.


    But while Thomas was watching the sun fall below the horizon, a lesser version of the earlier unrest returned. Unseen creatures screeching, the crunch of breaking wood, the roar of an engine, and some very human cursing.


    Wait, cars and cursing?


    That was ¡­ odd. Sure, people came into the jungle in cars, and they started cursing when things weren¡¯t going their way, but doing so at this time of night? Had they just not tried to visit him before out of sheer respect for their grunts wanting to get home at a reasonable hour?


    Nah, that couldn¡¯t possibly be it.


    And as far as caution and fear of the dark went, the jungle wasn¡¯t that much more dangerous at night, the critters were just a little harder to see, though that would be a problem with many large-scale illumination systems and all night vision systems unavailable.


    So yes, they actually had a damn good reason to stay out of the jungle at this hour, there was no way they¡¯d be able to get back home before night truly fell. Unless they were quite stupid, they wouldn¡¯t have taken this risk without a good reason.


    But Thomas wasn¡¯t quite sure what it could possibly be. Had the earlier noise concert merely been the result of some kind of catastrophe beyond his ability to detect?


    The cars soon came into view and parked far closer than they ever had before, literally driving partially up the museum¡¯s front steps.


    Their inhabitants rapidly left, evacuating in their entirety and walking up to the door, but it didn¡¯t seem like an attack.


    ¡°Evening, Daedalus!¡±


    Ah, there was a friendly face, or at least one he knew.


    Wyatt Granger was the first at the door, followed shortly by Harper and an unfamiliar pair of orcs.


    Thomas had made sure to keep Jan near the entrance for just such an occasion, so he sent the monkey out, a bag slung over one shoulder that contained the bracers meant for the young police officer, fedora resting on his head.


    ¡°Good evening ¡­ officers?¡± Thomas left the question hanging. There was something different about this visit, and he was going to wait for them to spill the beans.


    ¡°So, it¡¯s a long story, but basically, we had a little bit of a monster attack, and the powers that be would like to sign a treaty tomorrow. But because we can¡¯t take the remains of the British government into the jungle, and constantly playing Chinese whispers with military convoys through the jungle is going to get old fast, Deputy Director Abrams was wondering if your monkey could show up outside the jungle.¡±


    ¡°Deputy Director of what, exactly? And are they the same Abrams who was in here earlier?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°Yes, same Abrams, she got a promotion to the Bureau of Preternatural Affairs,¡± Granger told him.


    ¡°Good on her,¡± Thomas said, before getting back to the topic at hand. ¡°Are you really okay with me sending one of my creatures around your political leadership? Especially a boss monster?¡±


    ¡°We thought about that,¡± Granger said, gesturing over to the pair of orcs. ¡°These are Harjaz and Vretkag of the Worldstrider Tribe. Harjaz is an Anima Monk like the Deputy Director, but Vretkag is a Sentinel of Truth and can make magical contracts.


    ¡°If you¡¯re willing, you can try and hammer out a contract that makes everyone feel safe attending.¡±


    Aka an assurance that he wouldn¡¯t murder people with his Dungeon boss emissary.


    Thomas paused for a moment, studying the orcs for a moment. One was a massive mountain of muscles that looked like he had more strength in his pinkie finger than Arnold Schwarzenegger in his prime had in his entire body. The other was still large, as seemed to be the standard for their species, but less of a literal hulk. And he had ink stains on his fingers.


    It wasn¡¯t very hard to tell who was who.


    Thomas had Jan hop down from the table next to the entrance and walk up to the orc he assumed to be Vretkag.


    ¡°Good evening, I am Daedalus, the core of this Dungeon, speaking to you through this champion of mine. I promise that nothing bad will happen to you within my walls. Would you like to have this conversation somewhere less exposed?¡±


    Thomas then turned to the others and motioned for them to head into the Dungeon.


    ¡°You probably don¡¯t want to head back when it¡¯s dark, feel free to sleep over. I¡¯ll have the monsters in the entrance hall stand down, the cafe is in the back, the food is there for you to take if you want any. You can also run the Dungeon if you feel like it.¡±


    That caused people to pause ¡­ until Vretkag spoke up.


    ¡°He is being truthful, and offering us sanctuary.¡±


    Then, the orc stared back down at Jan. ¡°I shall gladly take you up on your offer. Please, lead the way.¡±


    And everyone slowly began to trod towards the entrance.


    ¡°You redecorated,¡± Granger observed as he saw the lagoon-like design, rocky pathways amidst shallow water filled with pajama catsharks and dwarf crocodiles.


    ¡°Yep,¡± Thomas nodded. ¡°The unranked monsters I want to play with are in the entrance hall, you¡¯ve got the standard Dungeon delve on the back left, the run at the potion on the back right, and if you turn right here, you¡¯ll see the beginner area. Like I said, you can run through whatever area you want, but I¡¯m not sure if you have a complete group.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± Granger said, causing Harper and Harjaz to nod behind him.


    While most people headed off towards the cafe, Thomas diverted his attention for ra brief amount of time to fill it with cold sodas and coffee that was as warm as he could make it.


    Jan kept pace until he reached the cafe, then pulled the bag off his shoulder and retrieved the bracers from within.


    ¡°So, I told you that I¡¯d pay you back for this sweet hat, didn¡¯t I?¡± Thomas announced. ¡°It took me a while to figure something out, but I think you¡¯ll enjoy these. If you want, I can add some bars or something to the roof for you to swing from.¡±


    Granger looked a little puzzled at that, until Thomas flashed the description visible to everyone. He¡¯d figured out how to make System windows physically appear in the world and this seemed to be a good time to exercise this option.


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    Crypt Guardian¡¯s Bindings (F-Rank, legendary)


    Forged from the bodies of a draconically-empowered dinosaur and a D-Ranked undead powerhouse, this item represents the gratitude of its creator-Dungeon, and a hint at what further trades may garner (though the cost for equivalent gear will be higher than a single hat).


    The wrappings surrounding the leather may be unfurled and telekinetically controlled by the user, with any and all damage sustained by the bindings able to be repaired by a simple addition of mana. Even a charging draconic tyrant king (the creature that unwillingly donated its hide to form this item) can be stopped in its tracks if properly bound.


    Energy draw: middling, constant when in use, titanic to regenerate linens


    Restriction: Only Wyatt Granger (the Wyatt Granger awarded these items, to be exact) can wear and wield this item


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Granger¡¯s jaw dropped.


    ¡°So, is that a no on the bars?¡± Thomas teased. ¡°I¡¯ll be around even when my avatar is upstairs, just shout in the air, and I¡¯ll hear.¡±


    Then, he had Jan lead the way to his ¡°office¡±. He¡¯d placed it up on the second-story mezzanine, sitting above the entrance. From the door, on the left side was a window overlooking the jungle outside, while there was a stomach-high railing on the right, granting a mesmerizing view of the ¡°lagoon¡± down below.


    Thomas had added a massive desk, one that used to be made of oak but he¡¯d made it from petrified wood, then managed to create an office chair - high chair combo that still looked dignified.


    And then he¡¯d filled it with as many knickknacks as he could without making the whole thing look like a hoarder¡¯s nest. There¡¯s been some good shit in the archives.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    An antique globe, a couple of really cool stuffed animals, a display case of various fossilized claws, and so on.


    But Vretkag didn¡¯t seem to be distracted himself, merely sitting down in the chair Thomas gestured to, while Thomas¡¯ avatar scampered into the chair.


    Time to negotiate.


    ***


    So, this was what a Dungeon could do.


    Wyatt Granger stared down at the pair of leather and cloth bracers covering his forearms.


    Then, he raised his head to look for a good target. Before he even did anything, though, the soldiers in that direction scattered while Harjaz just laughed, the sound booming off the walls and ceiling.


    ¡°Young mage, perhaps the creatures outside would be a better target?¡± he suggested. ¡°I shall ensure your safety while learning.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I gotta see that,¡± Harper added, stepping up next to the mountain of a man who¡¯d been sent along for protection.


    Wyatt sighed. Oh, this would either be awesome, or embarrassing.


    Stepping out of the cafe through the multiple doors set in one-meter intervals was weird, though Harjaz had described that as a funtion of Dungeon mechanics. Apparently, it was important to put obstacles between the main Dungeon and safe spaces as that reduced the disruption that the presence of delvers would cause to Dungeon operations.


    But with them all standing open, it wasn¡¯t much of an obstacle, leaving him standing in the doorway, staring down into the crystal-clear water.


    Okay, test one.


    He flung his right arm forward, and ¡­ nothing happened. The wrappings stayed in place.


    So he tried to unwrap it, but failed miserably.


    Did it need mana?


    Wyatt split his mind into two, used one to unleash mana, sending it streaming towards his right bracers, and directed the mana with the second until it flooded the artifact.


    Suddenly, he could feel it there, like an extension of his own body. Preparing it to unwrap when he threw it forward was a matter of a single thought.


    He tried it again, and the bandage ¡­ flopped through the air. Yeah, it could unwrap, but it wasn¡¯t a bullwhip, it was a strip of linen.


    A thought raveled it back up, and the next time he unleashed it, he pushed it forward with mana. It wasn¡¯t quite as impressive as he¡¯d hoped, but it still worked.


    Time to start fishing!


    ¡­ The linen bounced off the surface of the water, soaked up the liquid, and sank pitifully. But then a shark decided to attack the ¡°intruder¡±, so a simple twitch of his wrist accompanied by a thought wrapped it up thoroughly and when he yanked the linen strip back, the shark came with it, flopping around on the ground.


    ¡°Uh, does someone have a knife?¡± Wyatt asked, and was immediately offered a massive dagger that was probably a short sword in his hand by Harjaz.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    And then, he wound up barely able to cut the creature¡¯s skin. Hadn¡¯t the Inspector said something about these things being tough?


    ¡°Everybody back,¡± he announced, stepping away himself, and launched a fireball.


    He¡¯d been studying and probably could cast Chain Lightning by now, but doing so around all this salt water was probably the exact opposite of a good idea.


    ¡°Would you want to explore the beginner section with me acting as a defender?¡± Harjaz offered.


    ¡°That would be awesome,¡± Wyatt grinned.


    And off they went, only briefly dipping back into the museum to inform the others on the convoy where they¡¯d gone.


    Most of the creatures in the ¡°Cradle¡± were weak, his to blast apart, while Harper spent a ludicrous amount of healing resources to fix small scratches just so that he could grow a little too.


    Mind you, it was nice to not look like he¡¯d lost a fistfight with a bramble bush because that was exactly what had happened when Waatt had tripped, but it still felt like a bit of a waste.


    Then, they¡¯d reached the end, and Harjaz had laughed when he¡¯d seen the hippo there ¡­ until it had roared at him.


    At that point, he¡¯d immediately drawn fully on his E-Rank strength, and the power he¡¯d chosen. Unlike the Inspector, he¡¯d chosen the transformation path and doubted in height while tripling in width as he ran forward, skin growing metalic while massive spikes manifested on his knuckles. A single massive fist turned the hippo into a wet smear on the ground.


    After that, the massive orc strode towards the panacea section, still transformed, only to come out barely a couple of minutes later, swearing up a storm.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Wyatt decided to ask.


    ¡°I cannot fall onto the spikes on the ground while this heavy,¡± Harjaz growled. ¡°And I cannot endure those nuts without transforming.¡±


    Yeah, that made sense.


    ¡°Do you want us to try together?¡± Wyatt offered, but was met with a shake of the orc¡¯s head.


    ¡°I am not taking F-Ranks into that mess.¡±


    ¡°But ¡­¡± Wyatt shut up before he could whine about how the Inspector had taken them inside. Because it wasn¡¯t a fair comparison, they¡¯d also had Gula with them, and the Inspector could play tank without weighing so much that any fall off the walkway would be inevitably fatal.


    So they just would up running up and down the entrance hall and the Cradle, leveling just a little. But things were slowing down over time, seemingly more than they should have due to their growing power. Was it a matter of constantly killing the same thing, or their familiarity with the Dungeon?


    Still, eventually, Wyatt decided to call it a night around 3 in the morning, while Harjaz was still trying to figure out how to kill the monkeys without having to walk out onto the walkway.


    ***


    ¡°Deputy Director Abrams, this is Director of Operations Foster, I believe you two are going to be working closely together,¡± Frye introduced Jaclyn to the third and last top-level officer in the BPA.


    ¡°Jaclyn,¡± she introduced herself, offering her hand.


    ¡°Nicole,¡± the other woman responded, shaking it.


    Jaclyn and Frye had decided to try and create a first-name basis between each other and Foster, simply because it would get real old, real fast, if they just kept going ¡°Director this¡±, ¡°Director that¡± forever.


    ¡°Anyway, Jaclyn, you have the list of stuff we need, I¡¯m going to bed, ¡®night everyone,¡± Frye announced, entering his office and closing the door behind him.


    ¡°Does he have a bed in there?¡± Jacyln wondered.


    ¡°No, he has a hotel room,¡± Foster cautiously responded. ¡°But that¡¯s in the opposite direction.¡±


    She frowned. ¡°I think he¡¯s really sleeping in there, why?¡±


    Jaclyn sighed. ¡°I promised I¡¯d wake him whenever we needed his input.¡±


    ¡°If he decides to be a pain to wake, I¡¯m drawing on his face,¡± Foster decided as she picked up a tablet and started doing something on it.


    Jaclyn raised an eyebrow. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Oh, long as he can get it off before he has to be in any meetings, he¡¯ll find it funny,¡± Foster assured her. ¡°When I got this job, he told me that I¡¯d need a good suit for the sake of appearances. And that he¡¯d have something for me. So I come home to a big box in front of my door, you know, one of those from the movies where the female love interest is sent a box with a nice dress and a note that says ¡®wear this¡¯.


    ¡°So I open the box, but do you know what I find? A note, and a business card.


    ¡°¡®Despite what movies claim, a box like that is rarely romantic, and it would be creepy if I knew your size, so here is the business card of London¡¯s finest tailor, I have paid in advance for high-ranking members to be appropriately outfitted¡¯.¡±


    Jacyn snorted. ¡°I mean, he¡¯s right about it being creepy, but that joke could have been taken really badly.¡±


    ¡°Nah, he knows me well enough to know I¡¯d find it funny. Just like how I know that he¡¯d find it funny if drew on his face long as no one sees,¡± Foster shrugged.


    All throughout the entire conversation, she¡¯d been continuously tapping away on her tablet, which she now finally set down.


    ¡°So, what do we need to do?¡±


    Jaclyn pulled up the notebook she and Frye had filled on the way over.


    ¡°We need to properly arrange logistic support for the strike teams, figure out what they need, nail down our current and future housing needs, compare the current state of logistics with the new numbers of what we¡¯ve used and broken in the jungle ¡­¡±


    It was a long list of stuff, but soon they got started with the strike team logistics.


    ¡°So, do some Classes have special requirements?¡± Foster asked.


    ¡°Healers need greenhouses for their herbs, we should probably build some blast-proof bunkers and shooting galleries for the mages to play with, I haven¡¯t really explored other Classes,¡± Jaclyn said.


    ¡°What about Anima Monks? Do your animal bonds have any special needs?¡±


    Jaclyn made a so-so gesture. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s mostly about food. I keep getting reminded that snakes are edible when I see them, and I use a ton of honey now, but honestly, nothing a well-stocked kitchen can¡¯t keep up with.¡±


    ¡°What I¡¯m hearing is that we can focus on just having food available, and add more stuff on request,¡± Foster suggested.


    ¡°Pretty much. And as for the buildings ¡­¡±


    It was a long night. A very long night, one they powered through with a lot of coffee. Well, Jaclyn did, Foster just stayed up normally. Even when Jaclyn went to sleep at 6 am or so, her fellow director stayed up. After all, she didn¡¯t have to be presentable in four hours. Jaclyn, unfortunately, did.


    ***


    ¡°Is this conversation confidential?¡± Thomas asked. ¡°On Earth, there are certain professions like lawyers and doctors who take oaths to not reveal anything about their clients. Do Sentinels of Truth have something similar?¡±


    Vretkag made a so-so hand gesture, something that was apparently multiversal.


    ¡°As long as it does not endanger the tribe, nothing that happens within these walls shall pass my lips without your agreement.¡±


    Thomas grinned, though he kept the expression off Jan¡¯s face. A monkey grinning looked like it was considering how best to eat someone.


    ¡°Can you draw up a treaty on the basis of how for the next day, any Dungeon creatures that attack people outside the jungle, directly or indirectly, will immediately die?¡± Thomas asked.


    He outright didn¡¯t have any ability to project power outside the jungle beyond Jan, and that monkey could do very little on his own, and anyone who attacked the monkey wouldn¡¯t gain anything.No real downside, it his mind.


    ¡°Very well,¡± Vretkag nodded, then went ahead and drew up the contract. The issue cropped up during the signing, though.


    Whenever Jan was finished singing the name ¡°Daedalus¡±, the ink vanished as if wiped away by a wet cloth.


    ¡°Is Daedalus not your name?¡± the orc asked after the third time.


    ¡°I took it to facilitate proper cooperation with humans,¡± Thomas shrugged. ¡°If I consider it as a part of my identity, is there something you can do?¡±


    ¡°Of course, there are many who do not wish to sign their true names,¡± Vretkag nodded and added an exceedingly long paragraph about how those who put pen to paper had to be willing, and that the name they used had to be the same one used in dealing with the other signatory party, etc, as well as a section about how it was the mind, not the body, who signed the contract to allow Thomas to sign it via an intermediary. Because that bit had apparently been forgotten in the first iteration.


    The next time Thomas signed, things went perfectly. Time to see what else he could get ¡­


    The monkey avatar leaned back in the chair, steepling his fingers.


    ¡°Could you draw me up some other contracts?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Depending on the contract, maybe,¡± Vretkag replied. ¡°Dungeons with the ability to freely forge contracts are very dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°Subverting officials, laying endless curses on anyone who acts in a way that the Dungeon does not like ¡­¡±


    Apparently, there was no end to the horror stories associated with Dungeons who could, eventually, become tyrants. And there was no way in hell the Worldstrider Tribe would allow something like that to happen.


    ¡°No, no, no, nothing like that,¡± Thomas laughed. ¡°Just a few addendums for the treaty. I figured that there are some points that might have been missed because they¡¯re looking at the issue from a human perspective, and there are a few things I¡¯d also like to get.


    ¡°And I have a harmless little contract I¡¯d also like to get. I¡¯ll tell you about it, and if you¡¯re not comfortable with it, I¡¯ll never bother you about it again.¡±


    Oh, this would be fun.

 Chapter 64: Negotiations

    They hadn¡¯t come back yet. That was ¡­ not great. Sure, there¡¯d always been a chance that they¡¯d stay overnight due to the nighttime jungle being dangerous.


    But there was also the option that the thing that was keeping them was a lot more ¡­ final.


    Signing the treaty with the Worldstrider Tribe had been a matter of minutes, the press conference afterward had been longer by an order of magnitude. So, where the hell was the expedition she¡¯d sent into the jungle?


    Then, Jaclyn¡¯s phone rang, showing Granger¡¯s number.


    ¡°Sorry we¡¯re late, there was a tree across the road, we¡¯ll be with you in half an hour. And the mission was a full success.¡±


    Oh, thank God.


    ***


    ¡°And you¡¯re sure that the woman was the dragon?¡± Thomas asked for what had to be the hundredth time.


    ¡°Yeah, she introduced herself with the name in the file you gave the Inspector, she had dragon powers, and acted exactly like you¡¯d expect someone like her to act,¡± Granger shrugged.


    Well, that was ¡­ something. It certainly changed how he¡¯d have to set up his defenses. Change the size of the nets, reduce the amount of armor-piercing tricks because the target no longer had armored scales. Overall, this should make things easier, but based on Granger¡¯s description, Alaxia was still damn tough.


    ¡°You know, I was wondering why you keep calling Deputy Director Abrams ¡®inspector¡¯?¡± Thomas finally asked, changing the topic of the conversation. He¡¯d kept noticing it, trying to remember to bring it up once the conversation at hand came to an end, and forgotten, every single time. Until now.


    ¡°Wait ¡­ oh, I did that, didn¡¯t I?¡± Granger frowned, then shrugged again. ¡°I guess I always just thought of her as ¡®the inspector¡¯.¡±


    He was looking more than a little abashed now, presumably resolving to make sure to not repeat the verbal gaffe again.


    ¡°So, tell me about your government,¡± Thomas asked. ¡°Who will I meet?¡±


    ¡°Uh ¡­ no clue,¡± Granger told him, sounding more than a little embarrassed. ¡°Everyone in the government I could name is dead. The guy currently in charge is the former defense minister, but I don¡¯t know his name, and I don¡¯t know if he¡¯ll be there.¡±


    ¡°Where have you been the last two weeks, under a rock?¡± Harper asked.


    ¡°Learning magic,¡± Granger said.


    ¡°It¡¯s that complicated?¡± Harper asked.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Granger flashed him an evil grin. ¡°Did you know that Deputy Director Abrams wants everyone to at least know Cleanse? And guess who¡¯s going to be teaching you ¡­¡±


    Harper gulped, and Harjaz started laughing.


    The car they were in began to slow down while the one ahead started to speed up.


    Thomas didn¡¯t do anything, though, this had all been explained to him before. The contract he¡¯d signed, the one that guaranteed everyone¡¯s safety for today and only today, would arrive well ahead of his avatar to ensure that things were all nice and calm when he did show up.


    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Thomas asked. ¡°Is this going to happen in some random conference room or something?¡±


    ¡°Gentlemen¡¯s club or something, I think,¡± Granger said. ¡°Something that looks nice and isn¡¯t buried in the jungle.¡±


    Huh, that wasn¡¯t a bad idea, actually. Not what Thomas would have expected, but could a historic treaty like this really have been signed in a random parking lot, or maybe a dull conference center somewhere?


    This was an occasion that deserved impressive surroundings.


    The final stretch of the journey to the gentleman¡¯s club was almost painful, each second seeming to take a minute to pass, every minute becoming an hour, the anticipation building and building, until it felt like the pressure in Thomas¡¯ core, would rival a nuclear blast in strength when released.


    But he ignored it, working desperately to stay calm and keep going. Sure, the Dungeon was currently a monkey house in both the literal and figurative meaning of the word, with him venting his impatience by making his creatures go nuts.


    And eventually, his patience paid off.


    The gentleman¡¯s club was, externally, a hole in the wall, having the kind of door that you¡¯d walk past without thinking twice about it, even if you passed this place every single day of your life, you¡¯d likely never wonder about what was inside, not even in passing.


    This was meant to be a high-class place, one that did not allow for walk-ins, requiring membership of a personal invitation to enter. And the entrance reflected that ¡­ under normal circumstances.


    Right now, though, everything was open, very obvious, and well guarded, not to mention all the lights and cameras set all around the place to capture every second of this historic moment.


    ¡°If you will follow me, Sir?¡±


    It was a traditional English butler, or at least someone wearing what Thomas thought was a butler¡¯s uniform, who¡¯d been waiting by the door. And the man seemed perfectly okay and not at all disturbed by the fact that he was currently talking to a spider monkey with a fedora on his head and a fanny pack slung over one shoulder.


    Thomas decided to not comment on the man¡¯s surprising grace in handling the situation and just dipped his head in agreement before scampering after him.


    There was a room that was very obviously meant to hold the actual signing of the treaty, utterly stuffed with reporters and their various means of recording audio and video.


    But that was not where Thomas was led. Instead, his guide led him towards a separate area, one beyond any reporters or other forms of observation. It just contained a few unobtrusive guards, Deputy Director Abrams, and two more people who he was clearly here to meet.


    Abrams got to her feet and walked out towards him, pulling out a chair for him. It was a seat comparable to what the others were sitting in, a large leather seat that wouldn¡¯t have looked out of place in a Victorian drama ¡­ except for one thing.


    The legs. Parts of it were normal, extending about half a meter from the bottom of the seat, but there was an extension attached where they ended, being very much different from wood and clearly a new addition. Something tacked on after Abrams had informed everyone that Thomas¡¯ emissary was a monkey, so that they could look each other in the eye.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Thomas said, turning to the butler, then returning his gaze to the woman. ¡°Good morning, Deputy Director Abrams. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for coming, Daedalus,¡± she returned the sentiment before introducing the others, gesturing at each of them in turn. ¡°Ezekiel Hawkins, the minister of defense for the old government, he¡¯s the current head of our government and will become the Prime Minister once the situation stabilizes. Rowan Frye, Director of the Bureau of Preternatural Affairs, Ambassador Victoria Porter, former head of our embassy in the United States of America, soon to be our official liaison with the supernatural factions of new London.¡±


    With that, Abrams returned to her seat behind the table, while Thomas clambered up onto his own chair.


    To their credit, no one was laughing or even looking like they were struggling to avoid it, staying entirely professional in what had to be the most bizarre meeting of their careers. Whether it was due to them being actually calm or just having an excellent poker face, Thomas didn¡¯t know, but honestly, he didn¡¯t care either.


    ¡°New London?¡± he asked.


    ¡°The freshly supernatural area, that¡¯s the name that was settled on,¡± Hawkins told him.


    Huh. Thomas would have called in Verdant London instead, since it had been merged with the Jungle of the Verdant Hells, but that was just his opinion.


    Hawkins tapped a pile of papers on the table between them, another magical contract by the looks of it.


    ¡°This is the treaty we¡¯ve prepared for proper cooperation between you and this government, for our mutual benefit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have to look it over,¡± Thomas announced. ¡°Though I wish it had been sent to me last night, that way, I could have read it ahead of time.¡±


    There was a brief awkward pause before Abrams broke the silence.


    ¡°I only thought about having you visit late in the evening, I didn¡¯t even think about that.¡±


    At least she wasn¡¯t trying to use any bullshit excuses.


    Thomas shrugged. ¡°Happens. So, tell me, what is this treaty about, cliff notes version?¡±


    ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s the foundation for cooperation between us, so that we can live together and prosper together,¡± Hawkins said, but before Thomas could answer, Porter spoke up.


    ¡°But this treaty is about what we consider important, there is an orcish Sentinel of Truth in the next room, who can make alterations so that this treaty can meet your needs as well.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure we can find some common ground. What are you offering, and what do you want me to give you in return?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°Because let me tell you what I¡¯m hoping that contract says: I give you access to my dungeon to level whoever you want, providing a reasonable level of challenge while letting people know what they¡¯re in for and only granting access to people who are delving voluntarily. If someone is forced in, they can stay in a safe room until the police or military shows up the next time so they can pick them up.


    ¡°In exchange, you¡¯ll accept deaths that occur in my Dungeon, provided that the delvers are of age and entered voluntarily, in full awareness of the danger involved. I also get the land my Dungeon sits on, and some degree of assurance that I won¡¯t be subjugated or attacked by your government.


    ¡°So, how close am I?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d also need a lower-ranked section for our beginners,¡± Frye said. ¡°Unranked creatures if possible, that can be taken down by people with barely any enhancements.¡±


    ¡°Done.¡±


    ¡°That quickly?¡± Porter asked, sounding shocked.


    ¡°No, its just that mutually beneficial,¡± Thomas responded. ¡°It took me a while to make, but I¡¯ve got a shallow cove full of dwarf crocodiles and cat sharks, plus an entire room filled with antelopes and a standard hippo as a boss monster. If you¡¯d like, you can ask the delegation that collected me, they had fun in there.¡±


    ¡°But the whole treaty is acceptable?¡± Hawkins asked.


    ¡°Yeah ¡­ but I have a confession to make,¡± Thomas stretched. ¡°Or rather, a clarification. My Dungeon¡¯s bigger than you know, I also control the British Museum now, and I don¡¯t think you intended to give it to me when you presented that treaty.¡±


    Somehow, of all things, that statement was what cracked the minister¡¯s iron poker face, so he explained.


    ¡°Minister Hawkins, I¡¯m functionally immortal. As long as no one kills me, I¡¯ll be around for your great-great-great grandchildren to level up in, if they want. It doesn¡¯t matter what I could possibly get by playing games, it¡¯ll always cost me more in the end. I don¡¯t really have the options a normal politician or public figure does when they are at the center of a scandal. I can¡¯t move to a new district, I can¡¯t really rebrand as something else, I¡¯m me, and I am a Dungeon Core. For me, honesty is the best policy.¡±


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    ¡°Are there any ¡­ is there anywhere else you¡¯d like to set up shop?¡± Porter asked. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can come to an arrangement.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like the Imperial War Museum and the HMS Belfast,¡± Thomas said. ¡°I¡¯ll be returning the personal mementos to the British Government, of course. I believe the top floor of the former holds a series of medals awarded to war heroes? And once I gain the ability to spawn additional subcores, I¡¯ll be making them available for your use if you want to set up more training centers elsewhere. As long as there¡¯s a museum you¡¯re willing to see transformed and I have the capability, I¡¯m game.¡±


    A series of glances were exchanged at that, wordless communication that Thomas was having a hard time understanding. Finally, Hawkins fixed him with a look, and the man nodded slowly.


    ¡°The Belfast, British Museum, and the Imperial War Museum are yours, as long as they also contain a beginner area.¡±


    Ok, that had been unexpected. Were they trying to get in good with him, or just plain scared? And if so, what were they scared of, him, or Alaxia?


    Thomas sighed and reached into the fanny pack.


    ¡°I guess I had this contract written up for nothing, but I figure I shouldn¡¯t keep it to myself just because I have the option. I already signed it, all it needs is your signature.¡±


    Hawkins¡¯ eyebrows practically shot off his head as he read the first couple of paragraphs, growing increasingly pale the further he got. He then showed the contract to the others, who reacted similarly.


    It was really quite simple, all it did was promise that Thomas wouldn¡¯t produce any currency ¡­ and it also defined ¡°currency¡± in a way that would hopefully forestall any fuck-fuck games. Basically, anything created solely as a means of measuring value and transferring wealth without requiring barter, meaning money, counted as currency. Things that were declared currency while having other uses, like if people suddenly decided to replace the pound sterling with the summoning tokens he could make, were explicitly not affected by the contract.


    Hawkins signed so quickly that the paper nearly tore.


    They talked for a few more minutes about how things would work going forward, like if the government could set up a checkpoint outside the Dungeon to ensure things were orderly, but overall, that part was pretty amicable. They were reasonable people, they wanted to work together amicably.


    Or at least Thomas did. Hawkins might be reasonable too, or he might just be desperate to keep this country he¡¯d suddenly found himself in charge of from crumbling further.


    And then, they really did move onto the elephant in the room, when Thomas finally decided to bring it up.


    ¡°What does your treaty say about national emergencies? Especially the kind that flies through the air on wings of energy and declares herself the empress of England?¡± he asked.


    ¡°We ¡­ it says both signatory parties have to help in such situations,¡± Hawkins said.


    ¡°And what kind of help do you think I can provide?¡± Thomas asked. He knew what he could provide, but he was curious to know what they expected.


    ¡°Whatever you can reasonably provide. Materials support, primarily, and, if you¡¯re willing, acting as a trap for our foes could be helpful,¡± Porter suggested.


    ¡°Material support like this?¡± Thomas asked, pulling several disks from his pack and placing them on the table between them, intricate designs glittering in the metal. ¡°These are temporary summoning tokens. Outside my Dungeon, they can be used to temporarily summon the creature or creatures displayed on them to obey their summoners¡¯ orders. And if you want to send some big bad monster into my Dungeon to die, I¡¯m good with that.


    ¡°But if I help you kill something outside my walls, I¡¯ll need to get a fair share of the loot. Just remember, anything you give me can be received as loot later, so what you give me isn¡¯t a loss, it¡¯s an investment. And if your enemy is too powerful, you might have to help me take it down. Otherwise, I¡¯m game.¡±


    There was quite a bit more back and forth after that, but the basics had been established before both parties had ever sat down together. Live and let live, help each other in emergencies because another apocalyptic event helped no one, and that was basically it.


    Leaving the calm meeting room was a surreal experience. From the relative privacy of the previous venue, with only them and a few unobtrusive guards on the walls to the extremely public area covered in cameras and reporters. It wasn¡¯t quite ¡°red carpet at the Oscars¡±, there weren¡¯t any flashing cameras or screaming fans, but it was close.


    Hawkins held a speech, Thomas stood by, nodded when he felt it was appropriate, then they both signed the treaty and shook hands for an uncomfortably long time to make sure there was plenty of time and opportunity for the reporters to take their pictures.


    And eventually, Thomas was led back out by Abrams.


    ¡°You know, Deputy Director, unless I¡¯m very far off the mark, you¡¯re about to start training up the ¡­ action branch of your organization. Would you be interested in sharing some information on your needs?¡±


    ***


    Jaclyn decided to follow the avatar into the car that had been waiting to take the Dungeon Core¡¯s Avatar back to his home, though she was feeling nervous, anticipating something bad.


    Admittedly, the core wasn¡¯t a bad creature, agreeable and reasonable, Daedalus had even left the summoning tokens behind as a gift, but she felt like something was about to go very wrong. Or, at the very least, she was going to be faced with something utterly unexpected.


    The monkey avatar was silent for a few minutes while the houses passed by outside, until he finally spoke up.


    ¡°How powerful was Alaxia in person?¡± he finally asked.


    ¡°Too powerful,¡± Jaclyn said.


    ¡°Were you able to hurt her at all?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°But would like to be able to?¡±


    Jaclyn frowned down at the monkey.


    ¡°Are you asking if I¡¯d like to make a deal with the devil?¡±


    The monkey met her gaze confidently, grinning.


    ¡°Nothing quite that bad. I think you¡¯ll be happy with it, though.¡±


    And with that, it produced yet another contract, making Jaclyn grimace. Now, more than ever, she was certain she knew why Dungeons should never have access to unlimited contracts. But hopefully, Vretkag hadn¡¯t created anything bad.


    ¡°This contract promises you power. Access to whatever monsters you want to fight, healing potions if you need them and I have the magic to create it, I¡¯ll pull back my monsters if it looks like you¡¯re about to die ¡­ everything I can to make sure you survive. It¡¯ll cut into your gains a little, but you¡¯ll also gain more than you ever could by playing it safe.¡±


    It was generous. Too generous.


    ¡°And in exchange?¡± Jaclyn asked bluntly.


    ¡°You don¡¯t use that power against me. Ever. You can pass along orders to have your subordinates attack me, you can plan an attack, but you can never enter my Dungeon with the intention of attacking me personally, or clear the way for someone who¡¯s planning to do me harm. And if you learn that the group you entered with has bad intentions towards me, you¡¯re leaving on the spot. That¡¯s the deal.


    ¡°If you sign this contract, you won¡¯t be able to raise your hand against me outside of self-defense, but that¡¯s the only limitation. All that phenomenal cosmic power can be yours to do with as you please. Defeat Alaxia, conquer the jungle, hell, you could even make yourself the new queen of England. I mean, you¡¯re smart enough to know that leadership requires more than being able to kick the ass of the previous leader, so you¡¯re not going to, but you could.¡±


    It was generous. Too generous.


    Was Daedalus that scared of Alaxia? Or was it her that Daedalus wanted to neutralize? Empower her against other threats while protecting himself from her for the rest of time?


    And yet, her Bullshit Radar was surprisingly silent. Did that mean he was sincere, or was he just that good of a liar?


    Jaclyn took the contract from the monkey and read it. It was a short document, detailing exactly what they¡¯d just discussed. Help power leveling in exchange for immunity from said power on his part. It would swiftly turn her into the strongest person in the country, if not the world, but if the Dungeon ever grew hostile, she¡¯d be worse than useless.


    And yet, if she didn¡¯t sign that contract, she wouldn¡¯t have that power either.


    On top of that, could she afford to turn down this offer? There were two magical parties that were on their side, and an entire world dotted with horror shows.


    One of their allies was a small tribe, and the other was almost entirely unable to act outside a very small domain. They needed power in the world at large, and they needed it now.


    ¡°Would you be willing to offer that deal to more people?¡± Jaclyn asked, already silently tensing up. It felt too good, too perfect.


    ¡°A few. But I can¡¯t offer it to everyone,¡± the monkey said. ¡°As a Dungeon, I exist to offer a challenge for my delvers, I literally can¡¯t provide those kinds of protections to everyone. If you want an entire team of powerhouses to keep this country safe, though, I can do that. Now, is there anything else you need added to the contract?¡±


    Numbly, Jaclyn shook her head, still trying to find the hidden sting. Was it as simple as him wanting to ensure that the most promising members of the BPA wouldn¡¯t be able to hurt him? That couldn¡¯t possibly be it, right?


    And yet, it was such a simple deal, where could the trap possibly be hidden?


    It wasn¡¯t her instincts that were screaming warnings, but rather, the most paranoid part of her brain, and not because there was anything concrete to be scared or wary of, just ¡­ it was too good to be true. Was the thing she was missing that the Dungeon was getting more out of the deal than she was seeing, or the fact that Daedalus didn¡¯t see what he was offering as a big deal?


    How did this work? What was it that she wasn¡¯t seeing?


    But even with all of these thoughts whirling through her mind, she was also certain that she could not afford to turn down this deal.


    So she retrieved a pen from one of the many hidden pockets of her new suit and signed the contract.


    ***


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Thomas said. ¡°I won¡¯t keep you from your work anymore, though. Just bring more copies of the contract and the people you want power-leveled, and I¡¯ll handle the rest. Though I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll be able to do that to more than five or maybe ten.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Abrams said, signaled the driver to stop, and left. She¡¯d been looking so nervous, she must have been desperate to attack the literal mountain of work that had to be waiting for her.


    Thomas just couldn¡¯t wait to have people for every part of the Dungeon, to properly challenge his bosses, and to see what heights people could grow to without having to fear that the power would be turned against him.


    ***


    It was late, very late, when Jaclyn¡¯s phone finally rang and a familiar voice was on the other end when she answered. A voice she¡¯d been expecting quite a while ago.


    ¡°I¡¯m an hour away from London, can you be there?¡±


    ¡°Maybe, Robert,¡± she sighed. ¡°I can be there in maybe ¡­ ninety minutes?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re still working?¡±


    ¡°Yep the current head of our government is literally in the next room over and I can¡¯t really get away right now.


    ¡°Just go up to the precinct, explain that you¡¯re Eve¡¯s father, show them your ID when they ask for it, and they¡¯ll send her your way. I¡¯ll also call ahead and ask them to make sure there¡¯s a room at the Holiday Inn for you to sleep in. But don¡¯t you dare leave before get a chance to say goodbye.¡±


    ¡°Uh ¡­ sure?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll get you a hotel room,¡± Jaclyn assured him. ¡°You won¡¯t have time to drive back today anyway.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, see you in a bit. We¡¯ll get ice cream or something while we¡¯re waiting.¡±


    Robert hung up.


    Day one of her new job, and everyone else was already starting to have to work around her freshly erratic schedule. What a fantastic start.


    Not that her schedule had been particularly predictable before, but somehow, this felt like a dark omen for her future work-life balance. Then again, she¡¯d always managed before, and she¡¯d manage again.


    ***


    Getting out of the meeting took a long while, but eventually, Jaclyn was free and drove to the location Robert had texted her. It was already dark out, and under normal circumstances, Eve should have already been in bed by now, but it was a pretty special circumstance, and you could bend the rules in those, as long as it was understood that the unique situation was the reason for why the rules weren¡¯t obeyed and that this would not become the norm.


    It was a pub, though one mostly focussed mostly on the aesthetic of ¡°pub¡±, serving traditional British food, rather than a proper watering hole containing a rowdy mess of drunkards.


    And she knew that for certain despite never having been here before, for one simple reason. It was within her precinct¡¯s area of responsibility, and if it were prone to drunken chaos, she, as a police officer, would have been aware of it. Sad but true. That was part of why she was so happy to live away from here. As a police officer, you always saw the worst sides of the area that surrounded the precinct.


    Eve was currently sitting at a table with a glass of lemonade of some kind, leafing through a book that Robert must have brought, while her father alternated between watching, looking at something on his phone, and talking to Eve about what she was seeing in the book.


    ¡°Hey, there you are,¡± Jaclyn plastered on a big smile as she slid into the booth next to Eve, ruffling her hair.


    ¡°Hi mummy,¡± Eve beamed up at her. ¡°Did you have fun at work?¡±


    Work had been ¡­ stressful but rewarding, exhausting but it had gotten them somewhere. However, dumping one¡¯s woes on a six-year-old was no way to be a parent.


    ¡°Oh, it was hard, moppet, but we got a lot done.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡±


    ¡°Well, mummy¡¯s going to be the boss of a whole lot of people now,¡± Jaclyn explained. ¡°We¡¯re going to protect all of England from the big bad monsters.¡±


    Eve¡¯s eyes shone at that, making Jaclyn practically melt on the inside.


    ¡°And when you come back from daddy¡¯s house, we¡¯re going to have a new big new home,¡± Jaclyn promised.


    ¡°With a pool?¡± Eve asked cheekily.


    ¡°Probably not,¡± Jaclyn admitted. London real estate could not be compared to the outermost edge of Manchester, where there were large chunks of space available.


    ¡°Daddy¡¯s got a pool,¡± Eve grinned up at her.


    ¡°And when you¡¯re staying with daddy, you can use it as much as you want,¡± Jaclyn said. ¡°You¡¯re going to be staying with him for a while.¡±


    She hugged her daughter. She¡¯d have loved to hold her tight, just sit there for an hour together, but Eve was currently in an ¡°extreme parental affection is yucky¡± phase, so the hug was much briefer than it should have been.


    ¡°I love you, Eve,¡± she whispered before letting go.


    ¡°I love you too, mummy,¡± Eve said back, making tears prickle at Jaclyn¡¯s eyes, even as she was forced to let go when her daughter began to grow fidgety.


    They talked for a few more minutes until Robert led Eve away by the hand.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to love Manchester. There¡¯s the pool, a bunch of kids your age, and I even found a fantastic school for you.¡±


    ¡°School?¡± Eve practically screeched.


    Oh dear, you¡¯ve done it now. Jaclyn suppressed a snigger.


    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna go to school! I wanna stay with MOMMY!¡±


    ¡°I know school isn¡¯t fun, but ¡­¡±


    ¡°NO!¡±


    Robert turned back to her with pleading eyes, but the only grace Jaclyn would give him was to not start laughing until he and Eve were out of earshot. He had absolutely brought that on his own head.


    Jaclyn observed the chaos for a few minutes, eventually deciding that she would step in and help if she could come up with something that would actually be helpful, but she couldn¡¯t. The shine of ¡°oh, I get to go to school now¡± had vanished for Eve, now, she hated it, and the last couple of weeks had seemed like paradise for her.


    But now, it was time to go back to school and she really didn¡¯t want to.


    Eventually, Robert just picked Eve up and walked out while Jaclyn ordered a beer for herself. Drinking alone in a bar might be just about the most cliche thing she, a police officer in the middle of a devastatingly dangerous situation, could do, but it was what she felt like doing in the here and now.


    Tomorrow would come soon enough. She could take the time to drink a couple of pints before she drove home, still entirely sober due to her near-immunity to toxins, hoping she¡¯d be able to get some sleep.


    And if she didn¡¯t, well, she could always abuse her ability to ignore the negative consequences of abusing caffeine.

 Chapter 65: Building an Army

    Jaclyn woke up in a puddle of her own drool, head resting on her desk, thankfully clear of any papers that might be damaged. She sighed as she pushed herself back into a sitting position, brushing the wrinkles out of her suit as best she could.


    Wow, falling asleep at her desk. She hadn¡¯t done that in years. A decade, if she didn¡¯t count the few times she¡¯d done so voluntarily when she¡¯d been forced to wait on one thing or other late at night and decided to take a catnap until then.


    She¡¯d had a pint at the pub, but already burned all the alcohol from her system by the time she¡¯d returned to her car, actually tested that with one of the breathalyzer kits out of sheer curiosity. And then, she¡¯d gone straight back to work setting up her branch of the BPA.


    Frye had, of course, spent part of his available time to gather people who could go out into the world to make sure the supernatural didn¡¯t endanger innocents.


    He was drawing from a lot of branches, but only the cream of the crop.


    The least of these groups was the Specialist Firearms Officers, which were basically Authorized Firearms Officers like her, police officers who were allowed to use guns, but had SFOs had more training.


    Then, one step further, there were Counterrorism Specialist Firearms Officers, who had been taught even more specialized lessons.


    But he¡¯d also drawn on regular officers with outstanding records.


    However, he hadn¡¯t limited himself to just the police, also going for the SAS, SBS, the Royal Marine Commandoes, and the Special Forces Support Group, taking, as per a note in the margin, ¡°as many as she could grab and running off with them¡±.


    Frye had likewise carved off whatever logistics personnel he could get his hands on, but that was Foster¡¯s issue to deal with, thankfully. Which meant she ¡°only¡± had a few thousand names to sort through.


    The special forces soldiers were shoo-ins, for the most part, though she¡¯d still looked for and found abbreviated versions of their service records and skimmed them.


    It was almost terrifying what kinds of information her new position she now had access to, and what she could look into. In fact, if she felt like it, she could probably dig up some national secrets, though she knew to leave that well enough alone.


    Of course, one couldn¡¯t access those kinds of systems from any random old computer on an unprotected line, which was why she was currently in Cambridge, with access to the BPA¡¯s computers.


    The police officers were ¡­ more complex.


    In an ideal world, she¡¯d have stuck with the military as her pool of potential recruits. But that wasn¡¯t how it worked. The military had one set of training, the police another. One was supposed to fight, one was supposed to regulate conduct among civilians, safely.


    And countless times, history had proven that those skillsets were not interchangeable and that trying to use the military for police actions was a terrible idea. One that resulted in dead bodies in the streets.


    Her Strike Teams might be there to take down villainous power-wielders, but they would still be acting in a police capacity.


    She needed to pick the right officers, but all she had was a few files, pixels on a screen. Not the officers ready for an interview


    Jaclyn sighed and let her head thump back onto the desk. She needed to mostly trust that Frye, or at least one of his trusted subordinates, had done their job and properly sorted the potential recruits and only added those to the list who were above reproach, hopefully erring on the side of caution.


    Before she¡¯d fallen asleep, she¡¯d already selected quite a few people for the first group and was now deciding to either settle on that group or take some more time to fill out the roster.


    In the end, she decided that any time she spent here was time not spent training and that she¡¯d stick with the people she¡¯d already contacted, as well as the people Frye had already called. Getting more people was a task she¡¯d leave to others. Foster, maybe, or someone else she hadn¡¯t met yet.


    Somehow, despite only having gone to sleep at three in the morning, she¡¯d already woken up at seven and wasn¡¯t feeling all that tired anymore. So she had plenty of time to go ahead and make some more plans.


    ***


    ¡°Good morning, everyone, I am Deputy Director Abrams. I¡¯ll be the one who¡¯ll be guiding you on your path to gaining superpowers.¡±


    Jaclyn let that statement hang in the air for a long moment, sunlight glinting off the cool morning fog. It was early, and the ground was still wet and slightly muddy from last night¡¯s rainfall, but considering that it was summer, it was also bright out, and not overly cold.


    Though many people had still opted for warmer gear, showing her a motley collection of various uniforms, workout gear-looking outfits, actual military gear, and combinations of the three. There simply hadn¡¯t been the time to distribute BPA uniforms to everyone. Heck, likely less than a tenth of the needed uniforms had currently been made, and that was based on the current number of members, which was guaranteed to keep growing for quite some time.


    Jaclyn herself was wearing a uniform she¡¯d managed to have delivered to her office before heading out here. A short-sleeved version that she was likely going to be wearing out in the field for quite some time.


    In the summer, even an English summer, she wouldn¡¯t get cold unless she crawled into a freezer, and wearing long sleeves while punching monsters risked them getting tangled. Plus, with how tough she was, the missing sleeves would not have added an appreciable level of protection.


    She gestured to her left.


    ¡°This is Samuel Harper, he¡¯s in charge of medical services for the entire BPA, and he¡¯s a magical healer. He¡¯ll be making sure you all walk out of here perfectly healthy, no matter what happens.¡±


    He was likewise wearing a uniform, the one designed for medics, complete with a utility belt filled with his alchemical cures and medical implements, and a caduceus patch on his shoulder.


    Then, she gestured to her other side.


    ¡°This Wyatt Granger, he¡¯s our mage. I know for a fact he¡¯s the strongest one in the United Kingdom.¡±


    Granger held out both hands, palms up, and summoned a fireball above his right palm and an orb of lighting above his left, holding them there for a brief moment before dismissing them.


    Deciding whether or not to include him in this had taken a long time. On one hand, he was her only mage.


    On the other, he was, well, Granger. Young, distractible, inexperienced.


    In the end, she¡¯d decided to just massively limit his role in this while including him. Showing spells, demonstrating what his Class could do, and maybe show those who decided to take up his Class some tricks, but that was all.


    Though ¡°young and inexperienced¡± was sadly a good descriptor of this entire organization and this particular setup in particular.


    She and her ¡°trainers¡± were standing at the entrance of a tent errected to protect the projector and screen she¡¯d prepared, while the trainees were lined up in front of her, all thirty of them.


    She was going to do this again in a few weeks, when she and her future subordinates would have had the time to process all the applications and find candidates of their own, but for right now, she was going with the sure bets, for the most part. Special Forces, Royal Marines, and a couple of rising stars in the police force purely to have at least a few people here whose training was more focused on safe takedowns than proper combat.


    There should also have been a small house where a tent stood, with shower facilities and changing rooms even further behind, a fence around the entire area to make sure no one accidentally stumbled onto here while they were throwing around magic or bullets ¡­ but all that had been done by now was the purchase of the land itself.


    ¡°You are here because the world has changed, people are gaining magic, and we have a chance to get ahead of the worst consequences. We can prepare structures to make sure that bad actors aren¡¯t free to run roughshod over society, and if we act quickly enough, we can even beat the monsters that have already left the jungle.


    ¡°You are here because we believe we have the potential to make that happen, using the magic you are about to receive. To that end ¡­¡±


    Jaclyn let the statement hang in the air while she stepped to the side, revealing the white curtain hanging in the tent, while slipping a hand into her pocket and grabbing the remote to turn on the projector.


    ¡°The BPA is currently using the same System as the Worldstrider Tribe, which allows you to choose any available Class and train your skill in whatever you want to the point where they¡¯re practically superpowers in their own right. I¡¯ll be introducing you to them all.¡±


    Another tap on the remote caused a short video to play, or rather, a compilation of even shorter clips that Granger had had ready before she¡¯d even asked him to prepare something, simply because he¡¯d thought it was cool to try and understand magic, so he¡¯d filmed and edited everything purely for his own perusal.


    It showed one of the orcs, Margal, show off his Primal Warrior Class. He draped a bit of rawhide over his foot before someone off-camera dropped a keg-sized rock on it, used a vine as a whip that tore through multiple trees, and broke a boulder in half by smacking it with a stick.


    Then, it showed the other Primal Warrior of the Worldstrider Tribe demonstrate how he used the Class. Jaclyn didn¡¯t know his name, though she really should have taken the time to learn it. Sure, she almost exclusively dealt with Gula, and remembering twenty-five new names and the faces that went with them when she¡¯d never talked to twenty of those people was hard, but she should have taken the time. And would, but later, since she couldn¡¯t change matters now.


    ¡°This is the Primal Warrior Class,¡± she stated. ¡°It allows you to pick up any natural object and use it as a weapon or armor. After a couple of levels, you¡¯ll be able to pick up a long stick and a vine, make a bow, put a random short stick on the bowstring, and then have that arrow hit harder than a bullet from an antimaterial rifle. And you can get those levels over the course of a single fight.


    ¡°It¡¯s a Class geared towards combat, though not a kind of combat any of you will be familiar with. There¡¯ll be a learning curve, but this is a Class that only grows in power as you use it in creative ways, and any tricks you or someone else figure out can be shared pretty easily.¡±


    The video paused at that point, leaving everyone with a still picture of the utter devastation two E-Ranks could unleash using only the kinds of things one could pick up from the ground.


    People started muttering at that point, or scanning their surroundings to figure out what they¡¯d be able to pull off with just what they could see in the here and now. And she let them. She wanted them to get invested.


    She then played the next video, which showed a more mundane, non-violent, version of the previous clips. Fires being ignited with a flick of the wrist, carcasses being cleaned within seconds, food cooking in maybe half a minute, followed by various resources being found when they really should not have been located that quickly.


    ¡°This is the Ranger Class. It¡¯s a support-type Class that lets you survive literally anywhere and turn the things you find there into tools and weapons. Your offensive power will heavily depend on your skills rather than your power, but you¡¯ll be on the frontlines of exploring any magical areas we gain access to.¡±


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Jaclyn had started out strong with the really impressive combat Class but was now going to rattle off the various utility Classes before returning to the ones she really wanted her subordinates to pick up.


    ¡°Up next, we¡¯ve got the Nomad and Worldstrider Classes, which focus on traveling. The Nomad can increase movement speed across an entire formation while the Wordstrider can walk between universes through weak points. We won¡¯t need these immediately, however, once we begin to explore widely or even see if we can do anything with the crack in the sky, they will lead the way.¡±


    The next ¡°slide¡± was just a picture of a contract, next to one of Granger after he¡¯d spent the entire day playing with such papers.


    ¡°The current plan is to get some trustworthy lawyers who are better than that profession¡¯s stereotypes to create the magical contracts we¡¯ll use going forward, but if someone here wants to prove how the pen can beat the sword, feel free to go for it.¡±


    Jaclyn had decided to offer it even though she hoped to lose not even a single one of her recruits to that Class, but she decided to go for full honesty for now. Even then, these were men and women of action, who¡¯d managed to reach heights that required grit and determination, they likely wouldn¡¯t sign up for a desk job, especially with all the other available options.


    And that was the last of the ¡°boring¡± Classes. Well, not boring, just ever so slightly useless in the current situation.


    The next video was a compilation of Granger casting a variety of spells.


    ¡°This is the Logos Mage Class, the first and currently only Class created by humans. It focuses on learning and casting spells either extremely quickly or several at once. We don¡¯t know how this Class will grow in the future, and what powers it will gain, but chances are, it will be extremely impressive.


    ¡°However, this Class is about multitasking. Mr. Granger here had his Multitasking Skill at Level 20 when he created the Class, right at the human limit. You will either need to have or learn this Skill to properly utilize Logos Mage to its fullest.¡±


    Once again, Jaclyn waited for the muttering to die down while Granger ¡°slyly¡± played with electricity arcing between his fingers.


    She then followed that up with a brief showcase of Harper¡¯s powers, but she didn¡¯t hype it up too much. There were medics in the crowd, they¡¯d pick the Class because they wanted it.


    Up next was a video of Gula in action.


    ¡°Despite appearances, this is not a mage Class, but rather one that deals in summoning, allowing you to summon phantoms of monsters you¡¯ve ¡®harmonized¡¯ with. It will take some time to fully utilize any of them.¡±


    Once again, it would be nice to have people who wielded this Class properly, and she wouldn¡¯t stop anyone from choosing it, but it took time to get going and required good monsters to copy to be great.


    And finally, they¡¯d come full circle, landing on the Worldstrider Tribe¡¯s second melee combat Class. Hers.


    If the people here were half as good as they looked on paper, they¡¯d have looked into their new employer and found any of the hundred videos of her fight against Alaxia floating around on the internet, so she¡¯d just thrown up a particularly impressive looking screenshot of one of those next to a picture of Harjaz in his transformed state.


    ¡°This is the Anima Monk Class, the single most flexible one available. You can choose an animal and gain the power to fight like it. It should be an animal capable of fighting, settling on a flatworm merely due to its regeneration or a cornsnake because you think they¡¯re cute is not a good idea.


    ¡°But for anyone who¡¯s an experienced bare-handed fighter, and feels like being completely independent of any equipment requirements, this is the Class for you. Just remember, this is a Class you need to grow into, figuring out how to combine your training with your power into a lethal combination.¡±


    Just like she¡¯d done, creating an entirely new Skill that allowed her to punch above her weight Class against Fields.


    ¡°My bond is with a honey badger, it makes me almost impossible to kill and lets me use devastating counterattacks when the other guy is still stunned by the fact that I¡¯m still alive.


    ¡°But there are a hell of a lot of other viable bonds out there, from bears to snakes to birds for the people who want to fly. Sky¡¯s the limit.¡±


    Finally, Jaclyn stepped back in front of the tent¡¯s entrance and shut off the projector with the remote.


    ¡°Of course, there is a final option. Creating your own Class. It¡¯ll be the ultimate combination of everything you¡¯ve ever learned over the course of your life, but that won¡¯t necessarily get you something coherent or even useable, since everything will just get slapped together.


    ¡°For example, I¡¯m an expert martial artist since I¡¯ve been learning since I was little, but I¡¯m also a parent so the System registers me as having lots of childrearing expertise. Guess what the ability to hit stuff and raising a child combines to?¡±


    Beside her, speaking so quietly that even she barely caught it, Granger whispered ¡°Mr Miyagi.¡±


    That ¡­ well, something like that would have probably required some extra teaching skill, Jaclyn certainly hadn¡¯t been offered anything in that vein.


    But unlike Granger, the others realized what she was getting at. That combination of Skills made for a Class that was quite literally abusive, the same way that fisticuffs and a job as a police officer combined to make a Class that was the embodiment of police brutality and the exact kind of officer she didn¡¯t want to be.


    So there were a few winces, some thoughtful expressions, and a handful of people were obviously trying to figure out what their various hobbies added up to when forcefully combined.


    ¡°Feel free to see what you get, I certainly did, but don¡¯t grab a Class just because it¡¯s your personal Class, the already registered Classes were designed with great care and they work.


    ¡°Now, you have a few minutes to think about it, then we¡¯ll walk over to the Worldstrider¡¯s encampment. Just remember, none of the Classes will be bad, it¡¯s just that there are some that may not be perfect for you.¡±


    She let them talk about it, demonstrated her claws a couple of times when she was asked to, and then led them towards the encampment, which was rapidly turning into a proper town.


    Sure, the tents had been magical artifacts that had more amenities than her apartment and could be set up or broken down, but they¡¯d also been the limit of what the tribe had reasonably been able to use for housing before.


    But now that they had the land of their own, which was theirs in perpetuity, that they could do literally anything with save for a handful of exceptions such as factories that released hazardous chemicals, they¡¯d gone slightly overboard. Just a little. Teenys-weensy bit.


    It was still built up around the tents, but three houses had been completed overnight, a town square had sprung up too, a water tower, well, towered over everything, and Jaclyn could see where it would eventually be hooked up to the national water distribution system.


    In all likelihood, the various utilities would be an extension of the ones put in for the BPA training center, since it had been placed next to the new town quite deliberately.


    The town square itself was a beautiful area covered in intricately carved cobblestone, with countless squiggles on the various individual stones forming a defensive ward protecting the village nexus in the center. The crystalline pillar looked pretty, and yet, it was a little plain for what it was capable of doing.


    Gula was already waiting for them.


    ¡°Greetings,¡± she began, stepping into their path. ¡°I am Gula Worldstrider, the leader of this Tribe, and the one who shall walk you through gaining your Classes. I hope you will all become the champions you have the potential to be, and protect this realm without losing anything that is dear to you.¡±


    That said, she stepped back and to the side, taking position next to the nexus.


    ¡°If anyone is certain about which Class they¡¯re going to pick or wants to create their own, step forward,¡± Jaclyn ordered.


    One of the SAS folks was the first to the crystal, confidently advancing. He didn¡¯t choose to share his screens, merely looked it over for a few seconds before he turned around and walked back to the others, taking position right in front of Jaclyn and saluting.


    ¡°Sergeant Milo Evans, formerly of the SAS, Anima Monk, stoat bond,¡± he announced, holding the position for a couple of seconds before Jaclyn nodded and he walked to the far right of the group, a couple of meters away from the others, already organizing it so that there was a clear differentiating between those waiting on their turn and those who¡¯d already gotten it.


    Good man, that Evans, Jaclyn thought. And a stoat bond ¡­ interesting. A relative of her own badger, but a very different kind of creature. They were small, capable of fitting in her palm even fully grown, but fast and vicious as all get out, capable of taking down prey ten times their side.


    Being well used to punching above their weight class was going to be damn useful. Though they did so by dodging, rather than tanking attacks and then going straight for the unmentionables.


    The next five people received their Classes without incident, though the orcs were starting to gather and watch. Not because humans getting their powers was interesting, but because they wanted to see if they¡¯d get any personalized Classes and if so, which they were.


    Then, a Marine combat engineer by the name of Felix Holmes got his own personal Class. Gearhead.


    Looking more embarrassed than Jaclyn felt was warranted, he told everyone that apparently, his hobbies of building model train sets and fiddling around with his car played nice with his job-based skills.


    And the first power was awesome too. Arcane Adjustment allowed him to up- or downgrade items to match his rank as was needed, giving it great potential. Though it would also apparently have some hard limitations on how much it could upgrade something. Allowing a gun to operate at F-Rank was very much within the realm of the possible, but the gun would also rapidly degrade.


    Jaclyn decided that, in all likelihood, the Class could very much come in handy, but there were better options for raw combat power. Even if it was only for a few shots, having full-power firearms around could be game-changing. Leveling Holmes would have to be a priority since he could become quite the force multiplier.


    After Holmes came a mountain of a man who went by the name of Lucas Henderson who¡¯d been recruited from the ranks of the London police department and had likely been compared to a bear many times before today, when he¡¯d chosen to become a bear-bonded Anima Monk. That would be interesting to watch.


    One by one, Jaclyn¡¯s subordinates stepped up, gained superpowers, introduced themselves to the world with their name and Class, and walked over to where Evans had set his example.


    She was surprised how many people chose her own Class, but there was still a wide spread of Classes.


    For example, a demolition expert by the name of Zachary Cook from the SBS picked Gearhead, though it¡¯d probably take a bit to prepare something he could use. Modern explosives had safeties built in so that they would only go off if triggered just right. For example, you could light a stick of TNT on fire and be perfectly safe until the flames started licking at your fingers. And those electronic triggers likely wouldn¡¯t work with his power.


    Or maybe there were mechanical triggers, Jaclyn didn¡¯t know. Her knowledge about explosives was limited to ¡°don¡¯t use your radio when next to a bomb because that might set it off¡± and ¡°if you find a bomb, call the bomb squad¡±. Certainly, it was his job to figure out how to make his power work.


    But the big surprise came with the last person to go.


    A young woman who Jaclyn knew to be 29 though she looked maybe 25 at the most, a police officer with a stellar record who¡¯d come from a long line of cops.


    She stepped up to the crystal and her eyes went wide, then she turned around to Jaclyn with shining eyes, looking even younger than Granger at that moment despite being almost a decade older than him.


    ¡°Director, I know you¡¯re looking for people to beak the dragon lady, but can I get the police officer Class I just got offered?¡±


    ¡°This is a choice that¡¯ll stick with you for the rest of your life,¡± Jaclyn said. ¡°Your choice. But can you show me?¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± Murray hurriedly followed the suggestion, showing her the window in question.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


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    Personal Class: Police Officer


    This is a Class formed for a person who spent their childhood dreaming of fighting injustice and their adulthood bringing that dream to fruition.


    It is focused on granting its wielders the ability to enforce the law and prevent people who have power from victimizing those who do not, creating an orderly society.


    ¡°A society without rules is a society in anarchy, and human nature means that anarchy will lead to misery and death.¡±


    Starting Power: Force of Law (Enforce the law even in a society of superhumans)


    Would you like to accept this Class?


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    It took physical effort to not facepalm.


    They had been looking for veterans without hobbies to create this Class, when all along, they should have been looking for youngsters like Murray, who were young enough to not have long-term hobbies influencing things, and for whom becoming a cop had been their hobby when they¡¯d been young.


    ¡°What about the power?¡± Jaclyn asked, sounding hoarse.


    Murray obeyed.


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    Force of Law


    No one is above the law, even literal gods among men.


    This power embodies this idea, ensuring that one does not need great personal power to hold those with impossible strength accountable for their actions.


    When taking legal action, or a law enforcement action in line with the spirit of the law, the wielder of this power uses not only their own power, but the power of every other person who holds this power, is within range (3/4 mile per point of spirit) and a member of the same nation¡¯s law enforcement apparatus. The amount of power that can be gained/donated grows with the Spirit Statistic.


    This power increases strength, durability, resistance against hostile powers, actively suppressing them over time, and strengthens means of restraint such as handcuffs. Overall, under optimal circumstances, this power allows its users to fight a full Rank above their own.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Well, wasn¡¯t that something?


    Largely, no, entirely useless while she was the only one who had the Class, but damn, that was an impressive power. Might be tricky to train, but ¡­ this was the answer to everything. The entire law enforcement dilemma presented by superpowers.


    Granted, as a strike team that would have to, in all likelihood, occasionally operate in the middle of nowhere, they might not necessarily be able to make full use of it, so more standard Classes were still the name of the game but still ¡­ just incredible. And then there was the ¡°small¡± issue of only being able to fight a single Rank above them. Regular cops were unlikely to have anywhere near the ranks of the elite BPA force.


    Though how much of a stick did one have to have up one¡¯s rear to create a Class whose power sounded like it had been written by a lawyer?


    Jaclyn chose not to comment on that, however, or even think up more things to say.


    Instead, she just went ahead and started sorting people into groups. Who could go straight to the Dungeon with her, and who needed to do certain things before they¡¯d become useful.


    ¡°Logos Mages, Spiritcallers, you¡¯re with Mr. Granger, he¡¯ll teach you how to use and control your mana.


    ¡°Healers, Rangers, you¡¯re with Mr. Harper. Explore the woods, figure out what your powers work best with for your own, create something you can work with.


    ¡°Primal Warriors, you have fifteen minutes to find some objects to work with, then head to the training ground.


    ¡°Anima Monks, follow me.¡±


    And while everyone else scattered, Jaclyn led her Class mates back to the original gathering spot where she went through a few simple exercises while figuring out what martial arts styles everyone was best at, while they waited for the other group of melee warriors to have gotten ready.


    ***


    The jungle came alive with noise in the middle of an otherwise calm afternoon. Just when Thomas had been starting to win at chess.


    Though what he was seeing put an immense grin on his metaphorical face.


    Fresh meat!

 Chapter 66: Babysitting in a Dungeon

    Oh, this was going to be fun. Twenty early F-Ranks, and by early, Thomas meant that they were standing at the very beginning of having any powers, but they weren¡¯t nervous at all. Or at least not in any way he could recognize.


    They were experienced in whatever they normally did, but new to magic, if his reading of the situation was correct. And hopefully, that would lead to some amusing fuck-ups.


    And the Inspec- ¡­ no, the Deputy Director, was wearing what looked like her agency¡¯s uniform, which looked like something straight out of ¡­ Thomas wasn¡¯t actually quite sure where he¡¯d ever seen the likes of it before, but it wouldn¡¯t have looked out of place in any urban fantasy setting which included a government that policed the supernatural.


    Everyone there had a gun, but only two people had actually drawn them. The others were either hefting a stick that looked like it had been picked up somewhere in the woods at random, or wielding nothing at all.


    The unarmed group could be using the same Class as Abrams, but what on Earth was the other one meant to do? What was the logic there?


    Either way, Abrams led the way into the Dungeon, obliterating any critters that leaped at her from the water with well-placed punches or kicks that utterly annihilated whatever she hit. If Dungeon monsters didn¡¯t disintegrate soon after death, she¡¯d have made quite the mess.


    As it was, all that covered the ground were scraps of sharkskin or crocodile leather, which were soon distributed across everyone. Or rather, the people who¡¯d brought the sticks. Weird.


    But a pattern was starting to emerge. A group who was equipping themselves with truly random crap, when they obviously had access to proper gear, including guns. Thomas was still struggling to come up with an end goal that wasn¡¯t completely harebrained. Were they just trying to see how well one could equip oneself just with stuff found in the Dungeon?


    Abrams immediately began to organize the group of twenty into four equally-sized groups and sent the first into the ¡°Cradle¡±, the room Thomas had set up for such low-Level people to gain their first bit of XP in. If their System used XP, that was.


    Two guys with sticks, two guys without, and one of the gun users. Should be fun.


    They filed into the room in a manner that looked professional, though Thomas was only familiar with how that was supposed to look via the television. Real room-clearing tactics might look very different.


    So yeah, the guys with sticks went to the left and right of the door, making sure there was nothing there, the bare-handed fighters advanced straight down the center and the guy with the gun followed behind, clearly preparing to shoot whatever moved while being very careful to not point at any of his comrades.


    That was when the first creature attacked. A truly massive oryx antelope that startled the delvers due to its sheer size, but a single gunshot rang out and the creature stumbled and fell.


    Thomas frowned. The gunshot had been ¡­ louder. Way louder. Was that a magic gun?


    No, it wasn¡¯t, he realized when he absorbed the bullet without even paying attention. Just magically empowered, with the empowerment slowly fading. Somehow, that felt like cheating, even with the handycap. But at least it looked like only one person could use that trick.


    Then, two oryxes charged. One went down to a bullet while the second charged at one of the two bare-handed fighters, a lithe man who easily dodged at the last second while kicking the antelope¡¯s knee, making it stumble, perfectly setting it up for his far larger comrade to lash out at the other front leg, shattering it.


    And then, the nearest stick-wielder lashed out.


    It should have been pointless, a random length of wood that looked more like something a little kid would wave around, pretending it was a sword, than something that a soldier would use ¡­ but it wasn¡¯t.


    There was a loud ¡°crunch¡± and the antelope¡¯s skull broke.


    So, that¡¯s what the sticks did. Huh.


    The delvers waited for a few seconds and when no further attacks emerged, began to advance. Until the next critter jumped from a bush and suddenly, everyone was on very high alert as the wolverine lunged for the speedy pugilist¡¯s legs.


    He leaped over the attack, landed on the creature¡¯s other side, and kicked it, achieving precisely nothing. A wolverine might not have the seemingly invulnerable hide of a honey badger, but it was bigger, stronger, and all around more dangerous than its smaller cousin and could still take quite the beating. A kick from a still mostly-human bare-handed fighter was nothing.


    A glancing blow from a stick elicited a growl of pain but the creature charged forward nevertheless, clamping its jaws around the leg of its attacker. But the man jerked his leg back, the bit of shark leather he¡¯d had there somehow coming free in its entirety, saving him from injury.


    Ok, that power was cheating, Thomas decided. It had certainly done a good job fucking over his creature, which was now being worn down by a barrage of kicks and stick blows until its spine finally broke under a stomp from the big, bear-like, fighter.


    Oh, these mustelids¡­ all of them were, to a one, nuts. Terrifying critters, one and all.


    And Thomas hadn¡¯t put just one of them in the room.


    The wolverines attacked in ones and twos, with the occasional antelope charging out to keep everyone on their toes.


    No casualties yet, but plenty of scratches and shallow bites. And they weren¡¯t even at boss yet.


    The bear-man was the first to reach the pond at the end of the room, looking at the water apprehensively, with the others carefully spreading out behind him.


    But when the hippo raised its head from the water, even these veteran combatants flinched.


    The gunslinger emptied his gun into the creature immediately ¡­ or rather, he tried to. After four shots, though, the gun detonated, shrapnel tearing into his palms and even his forehead, while the hippo kept charging even with several bloody holes in its body.


    Oh, so there was justice in this world.


    One of the stick-wielders turned around to tend to his injured comrade while the bear man took over the role of matador, distracting the hippo while his lithe comrade advanced behind the creature, ready to empty his gun into the monster¡¯s back at point-blank range.


    And he did get a couple of shots off ¡­ except when a wolverine snuck up from behind him, chomped down on his ankle, and yerked its head from side to side, he went down with a scream. Sure, he managed to shoot off the monster gnawing on his leg, but if that hippo turned around, he was done for.


    Sadly, that didn¡¯t happen, as the bear man and the second stick wielder managed to wear it down, blinding it with well-placed punches and whacks with the stick, then finally bringing it down by firing their guns into its throat at point-blank range.


    Wait, sadly? Since when was he that bloodthirsty? He wanted to build cool Dungeons, and people dying might be a side-effect of that, but why did he want that? Why was he so focused on ending human lives?


    And yet, was it wrong to feel this upset over his new mindset? Without it, chances were he¡¯d break the first time he murdered someone.


    What was he supposed to do? Where the hell was he supposed to go from here?


    Ignore it, bury it deep, try and find other stuff to focus on, repeat until he managed to forget until he finally succeeded in repressing the existential crisis. Hopefully, that¡¯d do the trick again.


    ¡°Bloody Dungeon,¡± the big guy muttered as he walked over to his injured comrade, checking the injury. ¡°Yeah, ankle¡¯s busted. I¡¯ll carry you.¡±


    So that was how they left the easiest part of the Dungeon, one melee fighter having the second lean on him, an injured gunner stumbling along behind that pair, while two men with sticks in their hands and random bits of animal hide armoring their legs all but jumped at every little noise in the brush. Clearly, they weren¡¯t coming out of this unscathed even if they were physically healthy.


    ***


    Well, that was certainly an ominous omen. The first group had just returned, and they''d been torn to shreds.


    Evans was leaning on Henderson, ankle twisted and bloody where something had chomped down on, while the bigger man looked like he¡¯d been in a fight with an alley cat, and unless she very much missed her guess, Holmes¡¯ gun had blown up in his face.


    ¡°Everyone alri- ¡­¡± she was about to ask before cutting herself off. It was a stupid question. ¡°How bad is everyone?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll live,¡± Henderson grunted, depositing Evans on a nearby bench. ¡°There are some antelopes with damn sharp horns in there, and enough wolverines that I never want to see one again for as long as I live. Boss monster¡¯s a hippo, it waits in a pond, but you can still get attacked by the other critters.¡±


    That was ¡­ useful information, but not what Jaclyn was concerned about right now. She had one of the medics come over with bandages and some concoctions made by Harper to patch up the group of five, all the while trying to maintain some dignity and not look like a worried mother hen.


    Then, she headed over to the others and took a position between them and the entrance.


    ¡°You all heard the report. Stay clear of the underbrush as much as possible, clear the entire area before you challenge the hippo, make sure nothing sneaks up on you.¡±


    It should have been their plan based on what they¡¯d all just learned. But she¡¯d decided to share her thoughts nevertheless. And with that, she sent in the next group.


    ***


    Oh, that had been fun.


    Thomas would have been grinning ear to ear if he¡¯d still had a body. Aside from that, the whole affair had been highly entertaining.


    Sure, he was just watching a constant parade of people walking into the Cradle, coming out more or less in one piece, and applying their gains before going straight back in. He was wishing they¡¯d do more than poke their heads into the panacea run and shoot a few monkeys, though.


    But this felt like what he was supposed to do, what he was supposed to be.


    A place for people to challenge, thereby demonstrating how well or how badly he¡¯d designed everything.


    And having trained soldiers wind up running from a tub of lard on legs was damn amusing to see. Admittedly, if they¡¯d been using heavier weaponry, it might have been a different story, but said weaponry was rapidly going to become obsolete as they grew in power. And sure, they did have that ¡°temporary upgrade¡± power, but that wasn¡¯t particularly perfect, now was it?


    Although there was one thing Thomas was looking forward to above all else. The time when night fell, the regular trainees would leave, and Abrams would challenge his Dungeon properly. Sure, he¡¯d be pulling his punches on the ¡°final blow¡±, they had a contract to that effect, but he wanted to see that happen so bloody badly!


    ***


    And now, for the personal training Daedalus had promised.


    She was currently ten Levels from D-Rank, which was where she felt she had to be to beat Alaxia, and Jaclyn would do whatever she needed to do to remove that dragon as a threat. Even making a deal with an inhuman being for power.


    Granted, it wasn¡¯t an actual deal with the devil, and literally, the only thing she¡¯d given up was the ability to directly attack Daedalus, the contract literally stated that she could use her subordinates to do the job if she felt it necessary, but it still felt off.


    Like she¡¯d given up some of her autonomy. It was stupid, she knew that, but it was how she felt, and no matter what, she was unable to rid herself of the feeling.


    Oh, the rumors that would start in the morning ¡­


    Jaclyn had decided to stay in the Dungeon overnight, despite how terrible an idea it seemed. The official story would be that she¡¯d been trying to hammer out another deal to optimize the training experience in this Dungeon. She¡¯d brought everything she needed to stay overnight, including a change of clothes, a mattress for Daedalus to replicate, and evne her toothbrush.


    And negotiations were a part of why she was here, true, but for the most part, she wanted to take full advantage of the deal she¡¯d made with Daedalus and see if it was something worth bringing the others in on. Her delving team, specifically.


    Just how would this work in practice? She could likely survive if Daedalus was slow in pulling the final blow, a fragile caster probably couldn¡¯t.


    ¡°So, how is this going to work?¡± she asked after a long moment.


    ¡°You decide what you want to fight, fight it until you¡¯re about to die, I¡¯ll stop the creature, give you a few drops of healing potion, and you can go right back to it. Over and over again. Until you want to stop or can¡¯t gain any more power. That simple.¡±


    She grinned despite herself. No need to watch over people taking their first few steps into the realm of the supernatural, no need to carefully evaluate the situation before stepping in, just ¡­ power. Power, and a chance to cut loose, to use the strength she¡¯d already earned and was going to earn without needing to worry at all.


    ¡°I¡¯ll just go with the standard area,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s still the one with the dinosaurs, right?¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± Daedalus said, his voice sounding odd.


    Jaclyn looked around, seeing the monkey leaving the museum behind her.


    So she looked around some more, until she eventually spotted an incredibly fluffy velociraptor creeping out behind a column, raising an eyebrow.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Yeah, these things are cute, aren¡¯t they? They¡¯re going to be my main avatars when Jan is out.¡±


    ¡°Jan?¡±


    ¡°Oh, the monkey,¡± the raptor made a little motion that Jaclyn belatedly recognized as a shrug. ¡°I name all my boss monsters. The sabertooth¡¯s Cheshire, and the Giant Sloth¡¯s Dexter.¡±


    ¡°Giant Sloth?¡±


    ¡°Right, you haven¡¯t met yet ¡­¡±


    The raptor trailed off ominously, grinning a grin filled with oddly blunt teeth.


    ¡°So anyway, have fun.¡±


    Two boss monsters, one of which was deeper inside the Dungeon than she¡¯d ever gone. Her greatest challenge ever, if she discounted Alaxia. But really, that bitch was what stood at the end of this road, the path to victory lead through the monsters in this Dungeon.


    Jaclyn began her first delve without fear.


    The same small sharks and crocodiles that had beset her when she entered once again attacked, leaping at her and trying to bite her, but they weren¡¯t any more of a threat to her now than they had been this morning. She had one and a half ranks¡¯ worth of power on them, and at that point, they literally exploded under her strikes.


    ¡°I hope you enjoyed that,¡± Daedalus called after her. ¡°I got enough to upgrade both patterns, tomorrow, it¡¯s going to be all kinds of raptors in the entrance hall.¡±


    Jaclyn grimaced. There was no good interpretation of that statement. Be it birds of prey or various two-legged dinosaurs with sickle claws ¡­ that would be a hell of a lot more dangerous than the original aquatic critters.


    And as she left the entrance hall for the dinosaur section, a grinding sound rang out from the main door. She whirled around, heart hammering like a jackhammer, but it wasn¡¯t a trap, the doors were still open, and everything else was still fine. But the ground was shifting, becoming dry and sandy while a forest of petrified wood sprang up.


    She sighed, internally debated whether or not to ask him to not startle her like that again, and settled on ¡°no¡±.


    The short corridor leading to the next monster room was beautifully decorated, every surface covered with either exhibits or information plaques on the world before dinosaurs. Those were some impressive critters.


    Insectoid horror shows known as sea scorpions, each as large Eve.


    Giant fish who, in place of teeth, had sharp plates of bone that were extensions of their jaws and could bite through chainmail. Well, would have been able to, had chainmail existed at the time.


    Huge octopus creatures whose size matched the mythical Kraken.


    And more besides.


    But she didn¡¯t linger, advancing into the dry land filled with ferns and shrubbery.


    Only two steps in, the first creature jumped out of a shrub, a largely featherless velociraptor that spat fire straight at her face. She ducked down and to the side, then drove her claws through its ribcage, killing it instantly.


    Jaclyn flicked her wrist, throwing the creature off her hand just in case she needed to have said had free in the handful of seconds it took for Dungeon monsters to dissolve. She didn¡¯t.


    She continued deeper, carefully paying attention to her surroundings, but she would have been the first to admit that she was moving a hell of a lot less slowly than she would normally, when everything was out to kill her.


    Another raptor attacked, choosing to try and grill her over getting within striking range, but she threw herself to the side, rolled back to her feet, and crushed the monster under her fist ¡­ and then, the ground trembled under her feet.


    Jaclyn whirled around, coming face to face with a tyrannosaurus rex. The standard kind, short arms and all, but when she instinctively triggered Inspect, the feeling she got was one of parity. Of her being face-to-face with an equal. A fellow E-Rank?


    It roared at her and Jaclyn found herself flying backwards, feeling as though she¡¯d been hit with a bloody tsunami. Some kind of shockwave power. Urgh.


    She started to rise to her feet but the monster charged, the power she¡¯d already known about causing the ground underfoot to feel like she was standing in a paint shaker.


    That was an evil combination. One to hurl people off their feet before they could ever engage, and a second to keep them on the ground while the predator approached to devour them.


    Jaclyn decided to not even fight the quakes directly, simply hurling herself into the air with all the power she could muster, aiming for a nearby pillar. And when she hit it, well, she kicked it too, hurling herself into the dinosaur¡¯s face.


    Its jaws opened, preparing to either swallow her up or unleash another shockwave, that one at point-blank range, but it was too slow. She planted one foot on a sharp tooth, grasped some available skin folds on the monster¡¯s face with both hands, and yanked herself clear before the jaws could clamp shut.


    What followed were the most absurd thirty seconds of Jaclyn¡¯s life. She managed to sit astride its neck, legs clamping down on either side of its neck as she tried to simultaneously hold on and squeeze the life from her ¡°mount¡±, while the monster tried to throw her off. The massive dinosaur charged all over the place, trying to crush her against walls, or have other dinosaurs attack her, but none of them seemed to care, instead diving to the side to avoid their frenzied comrade.


    Slowly, Jaclyn could feel the creature growing weaker and was able to stop holding onto it with her hands, leaving her free to start throwing punches at the base of the monster¡¯s skull. No manifested badger claws, no fancy tricks, just a Cross punch with her back hand, the full power of her body behind the blow, until the monster finally fell.


    And because it didn¡¯t dissolve, Jaclyn used her claws to tear out its throat, suddenly finding herself forced to hurry when a second t-rex charged at her. One she recognized as the same model she¡¯d found in the panacea area. Heavy green scales, actually useable arms tipped with massive claws, oh, and apparently, it could also breathe fire.


    Dodging the attack proved difficult when the ground was shaking underfoot, but she managed it, only to have to duck under a claw swipe.


    Right, with this thing, there was no ¡°safe spot¡± under its torso.


    The other claws swiped at her side, which she took as her chance to step past it, drawing up next to its elbow. Her right hand clamped the arm to her side, then she reached over with her left hand, grasping the dinosaur¡¯s elbow. And then, she pulled.


    Bones broke with ugly crunches while the dinosaur roared and she felt herself practically go deaf even though the roar had been perfectly mundane, non-magical, exclamation of agony.


    Somehow, this creature managed to pull off kicking her despite its body not being set up for it, and Jaclyn just thanked her lucky stars that this creature¡¯s claws weren¡¯t designed for optimal kicking damage as she flew through the air.


    Jaclyn stumbled to her feet, then charged straight back at her foe, slowly growing used to the tremors.


    This time, the rex tried to bite her but she sidestepped and caused one of its eyes to burst in a spray of horrid liquid under her fist. But when it jerked its head back with another roar of agony, it sadly took its throat out of her striking range.


    And when it whirled to further take its vitals away from her, its tail came whipping around, forcing her to leap over it. Or try to, her horrible footing fouling her leap, causing the tail to catch her in the shins, which promptly resulted in her bellyflopping onto the ground.


    The rex completed a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn, was once again facing her, and tried to swallow her whole.


    But Jaclyn was able to roll towards its legs, away from its jaws, and managed another pathetic leap straight for its upper thigh. Humans had the femoral artery somewhere around there, did dinosaurs have something similar?


    She decided to try, and was practically blinded when blood sprayed into her face, but she stubbornly clung onto the massive leg, continuing to rip into it.


    It should have been a safe spot, somewhere the big creature couldn¡¯t reach, but as it turned out, she was wrong about that.


    A huge continuous stream of fire hit the ground and rebounded, scorching the dinosaur¡¯s feathers while singing her pants after just a couple of seconds.


    Cursing internally, Jaclyn let go and started to run, past the tail. She had to duck as it tried to smack into her head, but she was out of range, cleaning magic burning away the crimson liquid stinging in her eyes as she turned.


    Her foe now looked like some beast straight out of the depths of hell. Limping, leg covered in blood, feathers ablaze, half its face streaked with what used to be the contents of its eyeball, the whole scene illuminated by the flames the monster was stalking over.


    Another plume of fire flew straight at Jaclyn¡¯s chest, but she dodged. If these flames had been faster, like something out of a flamethrower, she might have been in trouble, but thankfully, that wasn¡¯t the case.


    So she charged, yet again. With a bum leg, that thing¡¯s vibration power triggered less often and she managed a perfect flying leap under the beast¡¯s throat, lashing upwards with her claws, ripping long gashes with her claws.


    Already dying, the monster tried to chase her, vicious jaws snapping shut just behind her, before it whirled in the other direction, tail smashing Jaclyn from the air. But even while she was trying to suck air back into lungs that were refusing to cooperate, the rex was done.


    While she got back to her feet, breathing heavily, the monster¡¯s corpse hit the floor with enough force to cause the ground to quake in an entirely natural manner.


    So, were those the mini-bosses of this room, or had she missed a whole bunch of other big monsters?


    As it turned out, she hadn¡¯t.


    Instead, she was coming face to face with multiple versions of the big sauropod that used to be in the entrance, and several tiny dragon-raptors. And five more of those tiny ankylosauruses.


    Jaclyn could tell her ribs weren¡¯t broken, but they weren¡¯t perfectly fine either, so she decided to go for it. This part was easy.


    When the big suckers used their tail whips, she caught the attacks on an arm while ducking to get her head and neck out of the line of fire, then, when the tail had wrapped around the offered limb, she pulled it as taught as its current elasticity allowed, and ripped it off with the claws on her other hand.


    The raptors were easy, and the monsters with the tail clubs were also fairly simple to take down. She just needed to dodge the first attack, then trap the lump of bone under her foot so she could go straight for its owner¡¯s skull.


    Ten minutes later, she was standing in the middle of the prehistoric plant life, breathing heavily, blood and other liquids slowly vanishing off her face, fists, and clothing.


    What was next?


    She found the exit with little issue, another short corridor that explained the end of the dinosaurs before it let her into another room, one that looked very familiar, and contained a massive sabertooth tiger.


    Normally, this was the part where she turned around. While the loot from a boss was no doubt fantastic, bosses were also insanely dangerous.


    But she¡¯d made a deal. She¡¯d live through it even if she risked it, and the only negative consequence she had to fear was psychological trauma. But she¡¯d already been stabbed, had her internal organs ruptured by a dragon in a human body, and cut up by more claws than she could count. And that had just been the last month!


    Jaclyn was about to step into the room before pausing as a familiar smell reached her nose.


    Had the ground always been covered in oil and she¡¯d just not had the senses to detect it at that point, or was that a new development?


    Either way, if she didn¡¯t manage to win this time around, she¡¯d come back with the lighter she¡¯d packed and turn that cat into bloody barbeque!


    Wait, actually, if it had been oil instead of water last time, she¡¯d have definitely noticed, it wouldn¡¯t have just dried off her clothes, and that would have been obvious when doing laundry. So yeah, this was a new thing. But could she win without resorting to tricks?


    Once again, she was about to go inside, but a small monkey scampered over from deeper inside and handed over a small bag of sand.


    Huh. She was supposed to use that to create areas where she could stand, Daedalus had mentioned something like that a long time ago, hadn¡¯t he?


    But that wasn¡¯t how she was going to do this.


    She dropped down into a sprinter¡¯s pose, then slid her forward foot onto the oil before pushing off with her back leg.


    Jaclyn rocketed through the boss chamber, straight at the big cat, hurling the bag of sand into its face.


    The bag tore in an instant, blinding the monster, and her fist was already rocketing straight at its throat ¡­ and then it was elsewhere. Two powers triggered as one, enhanced claws digging into the marble so it could launch itself away while its ability to use super-speed in short bursts made the whole process blindingly fast.


    And at the same time, the soles of Jaclyn¡¯s shoes hit the patch of sand that had formed beneath where the monster¡¯s head had been, and came to a screeching halt while the rest of her continued onwards, leading to her pitching forward, falling over.


    She managed to catch herself with her arms, making sure to aim for sand so her hands didn¡¯t slip away, but that hadn¡¯t been enough. Because before she could roll back around to face the monster, her left side flared up with a burning pain and both her left arm and leg went slap, causing her to fall fully to the ground and inadvertently roll onto her back, coming face to face with the big cat.


    It stared down at her dispassionately before chuffing and slowly padding away, its right front paw leaving behind bloody footprints.


    She¡¯d almost died just there. Jaclyn Abrams had come within an inch of dying, failing to live up to what she¡¯d wanted to achieve, leaving her daughter without a mother, and quite possibly costing England the fight against Alaxia, barring a nuclear response.


    But she hadn¡¯t. She was still here.


    A monkey¡¯s face popped up in front of her, upside down since it was sitting at the top of her head.


    ¡°Wh-¡± Jaclyn was about to ask just at the same time as the creature poured something into her mouth, causing the liquid to go down the wrong pipe. Her head jerked up as she curled up in the midst of a coughing fit, headbutting the monkey with a loud crunch, but she soon realized that the liquid had been the promised healing potion, and apparently, it didn¡¯t even need to properly wind up in her stomach to work.


    She sat up straight, looking around, seeing the body of the monkey dissolve.


    Jaclyn flinched. Accidentally killing an utterly replaceable Dungeon mob was fine and all, no permanent consequences, but if that happened to another person, let alone Eve ¡­ yeah, she needed more practice controlling herself when she wasn¡¯t paying attention.


    Sighing, she picked herself up, once again flinching when she saw the sheer amount of blood that covered the ground underneath her.


    That ¡­ it hadn¡¯t happened, she hadn¡¯t died. She was fine. But then again ¡­ fingering the massive gash in her clothing, she could tell just how bad it had been. If she¡¯d taken that hit head-on, she¡¯d have been gutted like a fish.


    Jaclyn closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths before carefully leaving the room through the same entrance she¡¯d come in from.


    ¡°Shower, clean clothes, catnap, then I¡¯ll be right back,¡± she announced before proceeding to do just that.


    And thirty minutes later, she once more tore her way through the dinosaur section, having managed to at least somewhat learn to deal with the tyrannosauruses¡¯ vibrations, only to, once again, stand at the entrance to the big room.


    ¡°Bye, kitty,¡± she growled as she ignited a bundle of dry grass she¡¯d grabbed from the Cradle, ignited it, and then thrust the whole affair at the ground, straight into the flammable oil.


    And then, she legged it.


    ***


    Oh. Oh shit.


    That ¡­ that could have gone better. No, actually, Thomas was having a hard time imagining how that could have possibly gone worse.


    He¡¯d thought he¡¯d been oh so clever when he¡¯d made the change only for that to happen, so convinced of his own brilliance that he¡¯d missed the obvious.


    Fudge.


    Thomas decided to, once again, change the topic for now.


    ¡°So, are you going to bring others for the personal training?¡± he asked. ¡°And what kinds of Classes do they have?¡±


    Abrams took a moment to think before replying.


    ¡°Two kinds of magic users, another anima monk, but he¡¯s an orc, and a healer-herbalist,¡± she finally said. ¡°The fighters can probably do with what I have, but maybe you could make a herb garden or something, with creatures for him to heal? Would that be possible?¡±


    ¡°Maybe, but I think I¡¯ll put a bit of a twist on the idea,¡± Thomas replied after a long moment as he began to change around the old gem vault. ¡°Tell him to be careful, there are monsters inside.¡±


    Basically, the entire room was going to be a living infomercial for why one should be careful going through the underbrush in the tropics. Plenty of snakes around, with varying degrees of power and venom potency, with the danger increasing the deeper you went.


    Plenty of herbs were inside that could be used by a magical herbalist to cure themselves, and anyone who went inside could gather as much as they wanted as long as they were willing to risk it. And after thinking about it for a moment, he added temporary summoning tokens as loot for the serpents, except these summoned already injured creatures and would function in the Dungeon.


    Not to mention that since this healer of hers was apparently going to take the same deal that she had, he¡¯d be fairly safe using what would be a death trap for almost anyone else.


    And while Abrams returned to the metaphorical starting line, Thomas threw up an ¡°under construction¡± sign before Cheshire¡¯s boss room and dove into his core to look for something to replace the frustratingly flammable cooking oil with.


    By the time he found something, his ¡°guest¡± had already run the dino room a third time and gone to sleep for good, only intending to wake up in the morning if the mechanical alarm clock she¡¯d brought was any indication.


    It was a silicone-based lubricant that had been used on the inside of an antique clock. But because Thomas was feeling rather paranoid about fire right now, he spent much of the night seeing if he could ignite it using the lighter he¡¯d had one of his monkeys steal from the Director.


    And just like that, he¡¯d found an adequate replacement. Oh, this would likely be quite fun.


    ***


    They came right back. In the morning, everyone who¡¯d been here the last time returned, accompanied by some newcomers who seemed to be magic users.


    The ¡°advanced¡± groups made brief forays into the dinosaur section, killing a handful of dinos before retreating, while the new guys tried to use magic to fry their enemies ¡­ emphasis on ¡°try¡±. Apparently, magic was hard, who¡¯d have thunk?


    But Thomas found himself wishing for a different group of delvers. A stupider, less cautions, one. Not military officers trying to farm his easy rooms for power, but, honestly random people.


    Was he going to have to give everyone these ¡°deathless¡± contracts before someone dared to dive deep?


    Given all the people who wound up on the news for the dumbest reasons, it seemed like there was an infinite well of idiots out there, why couldn¡¯t some of those idiots get enough power to not die the instant they entered his Dungeon, and then make their way to his construction?


    Maybe he should open up the way, make it easier for people to reach him by killing Alaxia and all the other big monsters?


    A project for later, certainly.


    And until then, he could wait. Wait until night fell, and the bravest people would arrive.


    ***


    The lineup was basically just Abrams¡¯ delving group, with the addition of a bulky orc who could transform into some kind of steel-clad alien rhino, though Thomas recognized him. Harjaz, the guy who¡¯d been escorting Granger on the day before the treaty.


    Oh, this would be glorious. Well, torturous for them, but for him? Oh, the fun he would have.

 Chapter 67: Final Preparations

    Jaclyn hadn¡¯t really been too present for Granger¡¯s training, while she¡¯d been dueling dinosaurs, he¡¯d been blowing stuff up in the panacea area, but she¡¯d heard it. All the way on the other end of the Museum. A constant barrage of explosions and the crackle of electricity, with the occasional organic tearing sound of a magic missile ripping through individual foes that stood too far apart to waste an area attack on.


    But one thing she knew for certain was that he¡¯d hit Level 20, since he was now required to pick a new power. And apparently, since he was the first of his Class to ever reach that point, he needed to pick his power at the nexus.


    ¡­ Which turned out to be a very big deal to the Worldstrider Tribe. A Class-Creator growing to a new Rank, that was worthy of a big feast and celebration.


    Or at least, that was what things seemed to shaping up to, with all the delicious-smelling food that was just waiting to be served. Hearty stews, slabs of beef slathered in literally otherworldly sauces, all tempting her to tear straight in.


    Although that was probably also due to the fact that she hadn¡¯t eaten in hours, had been fighting all that time, and her power was practically howling at her to go devour something.


    But Jaclyn managed to restrain herself and stayed back, leaning against a wall while observing the nexus and the System window that hung there.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    You have reached the peak of F-Rank and must now choose a new power to advance to E-Rank. You have two options, and can only choose one.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Arcane Library of the Mind


    This power grants you the ability to more easily modify your spells and perpetually retain knowledge of every variant ever created, letting you make full use of your knowledge.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Bodily Repository of Knowledge


    This power grants you the ability to pre-cast a handful of spells, allowing you to prepare a devastating opening salvo against a foe with known weaknesses.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Granger just looked at it and scratched his chin, only to suddenly grin and tap the upper power.


    ¡°I like precasting spells, but being able to make an infinite number of spells and remember them all ¡­ I can¡¯t imagine anything better!¡±


    Another window appeared.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Arcane Library of the Mind


    Your mind is an infinite library of information, capable of holding whatever you wish to remember.


    Your ability to memorize information is enhanced, statistics, numbers, and similarly raw facts will be retained perfectly while other knowledge is merely picked up at an accelerated rate. This information can also be used to rapidly cast spells, with less complicated spells being cast almost instantly, and complex spells being only slightly accelerated.


    However, the true strength of this Power lies in its ability to keep a record of all variant spells known to or created by the user, easily creating such variants, and giving them the power to use a spell¡¯s variants as easily as its primary version.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Ok, that was a rather curious power. Jaclyn honestly wasn¡¯t very sure how strong it was, she didn¡¯t know what it took to create variants to a spell, but she could try to imagine it. Fireballs being transformed into frost attacks, infusing Magic Missiles into elemental variants, etc.


    Cheers rang out after that, and Harjaz marched towards Granger with a mug of beer in his hands. The young man grabbed it, downed it as quickly as he could, and then did everything else quite rapidly as well. Almost as though he were trying to get out of here as quickly as he could.


    Jaclyn wasn¡¯t going to see hide or hair of him for the next few days, was she?


    Nah, he¡¯d be in some lab somewhere, messing around with his new power.


    But she decided to have fun at the feast, then do the various stuff she had to do in the office because the paperwork had just kept piling up on her desk while she¡¯d been in the Dungeon. And then, only then, would she be able to get back to the Dungeon, to gain the power needed to stop Alaxia.


    ***


    It had been a hellish two weeks. Ones filled with blood and near-death experiences. Of watching the people she¡¯d been training walking into a Dungeon and coming out in pieces. No one had died, yet, but without access to magical healing, half the people currently in the BPA¡¯s strike team would have been permanently disabled.


    However, as the days passed, the rate of new injuries was dropping fast.


    Sure, parts of that was due to the less capable members getting stuck in the infirmary and therefore not being available to be hurt in the dungeon, and people in general learning of and thereby becoming able to avoid simple pitfalls, like how overusing Arcane Adjustment could blow up guns in their wielder¡¯s faces. But overall, they were gaining power.


    And as for Jaclyn herself, she¡¯d reached E-Rank Level 20,ready to advance in rank and gain a new power.


    It had been a staggeringly long slog due to the combination of her high Level and what had to be the penalty applied by the safety net, but she¡¯d managed it ¡­ though according to Gula, most people took years to hit D-Rank, so maybe the penalty wasn¡¯t as bad as it seemed. Or at the very least, it was more than compensated for by how much she could fight.


    And her new power was going to be awesome if her knowledge was any indication. After all, while the small group of orcish nomads on Earth was comprised of relative youngsters at the very beginning of their journey, any Class that had been spread across the various village nexi in the larger tribe had a well-documented advancement path, up to the highest point someone had reached.


    You¡¯d get one power for your Class when you first picked it, one that was the exact same for everyone, though sometimes, like with her own Class, there was an inherent flexibility to said power. Yet even then, the base power was the exact same.


    Then, you could pick one of two powers at E-Rank.


    And at D-Rank, things got slightly more complicated, though thankfully, she could pick her powers without needing to go to the village nexus.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    You have reached the peak of E-Rank, and must now choose a new power to advance to D-Rank.


    Two powers will be unlocked by reaching E-Rank, Level 20, and two more can be unlocked by achieving certain things. These powers will not necessarily be stronger than the standard offerings.


    If you have already achieved the requirements, they will be listed aside the unlocked power, if you have not, they will be listed alongside the name of the power they gatekeep.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Just like the System window said, you got two powers by default and had the potential to unlock two more, but since D-Rank for this Class was well documented, Jaclyn had been able to find out the requirements and their associated powers ahead of time.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Familiar Bond


    This power grants you the ability to summon your bonded animal as a spectral companion.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Additional Bond


    This power grants you the ability to form a bond with another currently living, mundane, animal.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Familial Bond (unlocked by making your original bond your own )


    This power grants you an additional bond that you can attach to any being in the same family as your original bond, but you can swap this bond at any point, for any number of times.


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Ancient Bond (unlocked by defeating a vastly superior enemy and defying the tyranny of rank)


    This power grants you the ability to form a bond with another mundane animal, however, you also have access to extinct creatures.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Yeah, everything was the exact same as the original.


    Jaclyn had dismissed Familiar Bond out of hand since she wanted personal power, she just couldn¡¯t picture herself becoming a summoner.


    Then there was the Additional Bond, which was something she¡¯d been considering for a bit.


    She¡¯d wanted a bird, because she¡¯d like to be able to fly, and a proper bird of prey could get her some nasty claw projections on her feet, which would be especially useful since she hadn¡¯t figured out how to project her badger claws anywhere other than her knuckles yet.


    So there¡¯d been a bunch of options. Granger had shown her the Northern Harrier, a bird of prey that killed with its claws rather than its beak, which was important since Jaclyn wasn¡¯t a big fan of having to bring her head in close to use an attack, even if it was via projections.


    But the thing that set it apart from various other raptors and eagles was the fact that it could fly silently, just like owls did. Except owls were unacceptable, since they fell into the category of ¡°uses beak to kill¡±, something made even worse by the small size of their beak, which meant she¡¯d have to get in very close to use that manifestation.


    Then, there¡¯d been the secretary bird, which had long, stork-like, legs, which it used to kick snakes to death with very precise strikes to the skull. Kicking power and precision on top of flight, it had seemed perfect.


    There¡¯d also been the harpy eagle, which was a rainforest hunter that could easily navigate this ecosystem and had ludicrously long and sharp claws.


    All cool options.


    The Familial Bond, in the meanwhile, was a hell of a lot better than it seemed. She¡¯d received it for creating her Skill ¡°Fist of the Indomitable Badger¡±, and she would have been more than happy with it even if it had been the only one available.


    Getting another bond that gave the exact same benefits as the first wouldn¡¯t do much since the strength of the boons depended on your Spirit stat, but you could get complimentary powers that worked well. Like a honey badger¡¯s flexible defense easily stacking with a turtle¡¯s shell, that could be good.


    Stacking a honey badger and an American badger or something, less good.


    A wolverine, though, that could work as her standard second bond. They were actually slightly less tough than honey badgers, but they were bigger, stronger, and had a deadlier bite, as well as a longer muzzle, which she¡¯d be able to better deploy.


    And when needed, she could swap to a stoat for speed or a giant river otter for water-related stuff.


    It had been cool to think about, but there was still one more bond.


    The greatest, one so brimming with possibility that she¡¯d gone a little bit crazy thinking about what she wanted to use.


    Ancient Bond.


    The reward for taking down Oliver Fields despite the massive power difference.


    Her first thought had been some big dinosaur-like flying creature, like the Quetzalcoatl, but that had gone out of the window when she¡¯d learned they weren¡¯t very agile, being gliders. An incredibly cool option, but also one that wouldn¡¯t have helped much, and the same went for any other dinosaur-era fliers.


    Then, she¡¯d thought about grabbing an ankylosaurus, which was another incredibly durable creature, but the mechanism was different enough from her badger that the combination should make her ludicrously durable.


    And because it had to be thought about, she¡¯d also thought about megalodons, saber-tooth tigers, and even a t-rex, but only because she¡¯d have felt bad if she hadn¡¯t at least considered them.


    But ultimately, she¡¯d wanted flight, for mobility, and she hadn¡¯t thought she¡¯d find that under the umbrella of ¡°Ancient Bond.¡±


    Until she¡¯d asked Granger. Because while she might have watched the occasional nature documentary with Eve and squeezed in a few more for research purposes since she¡¯d received her Class, he was a nerd. In the nicest possible meaning of the word. He had a head full of countless ideas and obscure facts that she didn¡¯t even know the context of.


    And one of his interests included animal facts.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Ancient Spirit Bond: Haast¡¯s Eagle


    The Spirit of the Haast¡¯s Eagle now empowers you, granting the following benefits:


    - Giant Hunter (you more easily find weak spots on enemies that are physically larger and/or stronger)


    - Raptor¡¯s Reflexes (you gain the reflexes needed for high-speed aerial combat/diving attacks)


    - Lethal Grasp (your fingertips and manifested claws do more damage, grasping actions to more damage via claws)


    - Sky Conqueror (you feel more comfortable in midair and are more easily able to control your flight once you begin to fly)


    - Adaptive Air Resistance (you may slightly adjust your air resistance in either direction)


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    The Haast¡¯s eagle was the biggest bird of prey to ever exist, and despite its ludicrous wingspan of up to three meters, it was also impressive in another way. Its preferred prey was the now likewise-extinct giant moa.


    Just like her honey badger, it punched above its weight class, though it had done so through agility and hit-and-run tactics, not legendary stubbornness and an unwillingness to back down.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    It was a monster in the truest sense of the word, and once she figured out how to use its powers, so would she.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Name: Jaclyn Abrams


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Race: Human


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Class: Anima Monk


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    E-Rank, Level 10/20 -> D-Rank, Level 0/20


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Class Abilities


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit Bond: Honey Badger (F-Rank)


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit Projection (E-Rank)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Ancient Bond: Haast¡¯s Eagle (D-Rank)


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Statistics (0 points available)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Body: 100 -> 150


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Magic: 5 -> 15


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Mind: 85 -> 125


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit: 84 -> 124


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Skills


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Pugilism 27 -> 31


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Fist of Indomitable Badger 29 -> 31


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Athletics 25 -> 30


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Situational Awareness 25 -> 30


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Bullshit Radar 17 -> 19


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Martial Arts 30 -> 32


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Alternate Skill Set (currently inactive, switch unavailable)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Mana Control 5 -> 7


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Utility Magic 4 -> 6


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Ballance 13 -> 14


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Breathing 7 -> 10


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Inspect 3 -> 7


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Movement 5


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    ***


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Her status screen showed immense growth, with her having gained 100 Stat points with her level-ups and an extra 10 points in each Stat for hitting D-Rank.


    And her Skills had grown nicely too, though it was becoming abundantly clear how much their growth slowed the higher they got. Past Level 20 was bad enough, requiring multiple nasty fights for each one, but anything past Level 30 grew so slowly that those below the threshold could catch up.


    However, it was her new power that really made her grin. If only she could figure out how to fly with it ¡­


    ***


    Admittedly, the humans had likely gained more out of the last couple of weeks than he had, but Thomas felt in no way like he¡¯d gotten the worst part of the deal.


    It had been entertaining whenever they tried to go to a new area and things went, uh, spectacular. Spectacularly wrong, that was.


    Sure, they¡¯d adapted and things had become boring and they¡¯d even managed to have things get less chaotic when exploring, but it never went perfectly.


    And he¡¯d managed to upgrade several creatures, especially the raptors in the main hall.


    The flying microraptors had gained the power ¡°Momentum Transfer¡± that let them stop dead when striking something, transferring all their kinetic energy via the point of contact, concentrating the force into a small surface area while also buying the raptors a window of opportunity to run like hell.


    And his utharaptors now shared Cheshire¡¯s enhanced claws and the ability to project the edge outwards. Utharaptors were big fuckers, essentially being what Jurrasic Park claimed velociraptors to have been.


    He¡¯d also upgraded the creatures in the panacea run. The crocodiles had gained a power that not only made them functionally immune to toxins but also let them absorb them for a temporary power boost. In other words, if someone injured one of the toxic hippos up there, it would be even worse than before.


    And the catsharks were now a serious menace. Still cute, but an absolute freaking menace.


    After all, he¡¯d given them a variant of the void wolves¡¯ gravity power, where they could bite down on something and multiple gravity shears would rip that thing to pieces before sucking it down into the shark¡¯s gullet.


    The next person who tried to get a vial of the magical cure-all potion would be in for a rude surprise.


    ***


    Jaclyn spat sand and profanity in equal measure as she dragged herself out of the long trench her body had carved into the assault course she¡¯d found on a nearby army base.


    She was just glad that her authority had been enough to chase off any looky-loos, since anyone seeing this would have cost her most of her authority. Her performance here was far from dignified.


    But she¡¯d tried everything she could think of, from just trying to imagine it, to stretching out her arms as though she were wearing an invisible wingsuit. Even flapping her arms like a toddler pretending to be a bird had done nothing.


    Sighing, Jaclyn climbed back up on the climbing frame she used to jump off of, then sat down and grabbed the phone she¡¯d deposited there to make a few Google searches.


    Apparently, birds had an extension of their sternum that the muscles that controlled wings attached to. And their flight muscles were their chest muscles, that was literally what a chicken breast was.


    But humans didn¡¯t, so she couldn¡¯t try to outright copy what birds did to take to the air, which was a relief. Flying by flexing her chest sounded just plain wrong, on every conceivable level.


    However, there were other ways to manifest the spectral body parts than direct mimicry.


    Sure, she caused the spectral badger jaws to pop into existence by snapping at something with her actual teeth, but her claws appeared on her knuckles, not her fingertips.


    So, how was she supposed to call in her wings? What motion felt right for that?


    Her claws manifested when she transformed her hand from a way to use tools to implements of destruction.


    What was the equivalent for her wings?


    Maybe she shouldn¡¯t think about flying just yet? How was she going to unfurl them?


    Jaclyn shrugged. That didn¡¯t do anything, but it still felt somewhat correct.


    So she tried to roll her shoulders forward, which didn¡¯t feel right, so she tried it in the other direction, and bam, it worked. Two massive spectral wings, each almost two meters long, extended on either side of her.


    With a massive grin on her face, Jaclyn put her phone back down and jumped.


    For a brief moment, it seemed like she was going to just plummet to the ground like all the previous attempts, but then, they caught the air and began to glide.


    It felt, in a word, amazing, the air rushing past, the ground below flashing by, and this feeling of freedom ¡­ the freedom to win up tangled in a barbed-wire fence if she didn¡¯t find a way to steer.


    Bollocks!


    Jaclyn tried to steer her flight, making increasingly desperate moves until her wings simply dissipated, dumping her into the water section of the assault course.


    A split-second before impact, a spectral badger appeared around her, protecting her from some of the impact of the fall, dissipating as water exploded away beneath her.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


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    Manifestation Type ¡°Badger Cannonball¡± has been registered


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    Oh, shove off, System!


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    Manifestation Type ¡°Flight of the Conqueror¡± has been registered


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    Ah, that was better. Now if only she weren¡¯t two meters underwater ¡­


    Two minutes later, Jaclyn dragged herself out of the water and onto the muddy embankment, cursing her current position.


    But progress had been made, and between her balance Skill and the ¡°Sky Conqueror¡± portion of her new power should make this a little more doable overall.


    And once she¡¯d mastered the art of flight, she¡¯d visit the Dungeon and fight that damn cat again.


    ***


    Of course, Thomas had also upgraded his champions, with all three of them now being D-Ranks.


    Jan remained his ambassador, and had received an upgrade to his item summoning abilities. It wasn¡¯t just about him having access to an endless amount of throwable projectiles, it was about him being able to directly call small items from the Dungeon into his hand, or send them back.


    Of course, he¡¯d almost exclusively be drawing on an endless number of temporary summoning tokens to overwhelm enemies with raw numbers when he had to fight, but overall, it was a power one could get creative with. Thomas was unlikely to resort to too many tricks, but the point was that if he had to, he could adapt to virtually any situation.


    Countless chemicals, toxins from every monster that had ever died in his Dungeon, even jars of refrigerator coolant, all of those were just a single thought away from any place where Jan fought a foe.


    Then, there was Dexter. The megatherium was already a physical powerhouse, but he had also decided to tack on a combination of battlefield control and mobility support power. The Marble Hoplite¡¯s stone pillar ability.


    Not only would he now be able to block off areas with these pillars given enough time, but they would also function as grappling points for his extendable arms.


    And finally, there was Cheshire. She had received the power of Feline Grace.


    It sounded more than a little redundant, but this wasn¡¯t a power based on the general category of feline predators, or simply her standard physiology transformed into a power that had then been returned to its ¡°original¡± bearer for synergy purposes.


    No, this was something drawn from the common housecat. Thomas still wasn¡¯t sure why there¡¯d been a stuffed cat in the depths of the archives, but the point was that he had found it, and transformed it into a power.


    In other words, every meme that had ever been made about cats, every old wives¡¯ tale about what these willful creatures could do, now applied to the speedy champion.


    She was so flexible that she could fit through any opening that was even slightly larger than her skull, and fill out almost any container, perfect proof that the claim ¡°cats are liquid¡± was, in fact, true.


    She¡¯d even gained the traditional ¡°nine lives¡± of felines, in the metaphorical sense. Cats didn¡¯t actually die eight times before the reaper could even think about approaching them, they were just damn tough, lucky, and had the reflexes to react to almost anything.


    Powerful blows, even from cars, could be blunted when the cat jumped away before the impact landed, thereby robbing it of some of its power.


    They also had a habit of counterattacking against even venomous serpents, bopping the snakes on the head with their paws whenever they tried to strike, thoroughly fouling the attack.


    And that trick also worked against powerful birds, other cats, even some dogs.


    Also, speaking of impacts, cats had ludicrously flexible spines, highly stretchy ligaments, unusually elastic bones, and clavicle bones that were literally not attached to any other bone, letting them shift practically freely.


    Overall, all the things that a cat could do, all the stunts that entertained people the world over in the form of cat videos, Cheshire could now also pull off.


    She was not only the only being capable of freely moving in her room, had ludicrously lethal claws, and could do devastating damage during her brief bursts of superspeed, but she also had the ability to hit anyone within an arm¡¯s reach of her, she no longer had such a thing as blindspots she couldn¡¯t turn to or slash had in a matter of seconds.


    Oh, who was the most adorable speed demon killing machine in all of existence?


    That¡¯s right, this adorable kitty!


    And based on who¡¯d just walked in through the door, he¡¯d be seeing her in action soon.


    ***


    The Dinosaurs weren¡¯t a threat to her anymore. Not at all. But she¡¯d still fight them while paying full attention regardless.


    It had been extremely tempting to fly over here, but she¡¯d decided against it as she had no idea if there was anything in the jungle that liked to gobble up careless flyers. So she¡¯d gone along with the last convoy.


    And then, in the entrance hall, she¡¯d taken to the air, evading all the annoying little critters in the grasslands that now filled the room with casual ease.


    Just like that, ten seconds later, she was in the dino section, flying overhead, only to have a Microraptor leap at her from a nearby column.


    Jaclyn¡¯s backhand turned the creature into red mist but also dissipated her wings,causing her to fall back to the ground from a thankfully quite survivable height.


    That was the main issue with her flight. Extreme arm movements dismissed the thing keeping her aloft, and while she¡¯d practiced re-manifesting them mid-fall, that only worked when she wasn¡¯t right above the ground.


    But instead of fighting her way through normally, she once again took to the air, wings flapping, until she was above the draconic tyrannosaurus, at which point she let herself fall right on its head. Massive claws erupted from her feet at the moment of impact, clawing into her target¡¯s skull, only for her wings to reappear and start flapping, ripping out a massive chunk of flesh and bone fragments.


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    Manifestation Type ¡°Talon Strike¡± has been registered


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    The dino roared with agony and Jaclyn flew higher before dropping down again, repeatedly striking the monster on the head while dodging blasts of fire breath until the skull cracked and it died.


    So, that was hardly something she could use with other delvers behind her, people her foe could go target if she made herself unavailable.


    But in the here and now, there was nothing stopping her from tearing her way through everything that stood in her way until she¡¯d reached the entrance to the boss room, covered in slowly fading blood spatters but overall fine.


    Jaclyn took to the air after grabbing the bag of grit and sand from the monkey and attaching it to her belt, causing the giant cat to flash past underneath her.


    Hah, first time she¡¯d managed to properly dodge that thing so cleanly.


    There was a loud ¡°thump¡± as the cat slid into the far wall, which caused Jaclyn to shoot towards it, feet hammering into her target¡¯s spine, and the clawed feet of the ancient superpredator appeared, anchoring her to her foe¡¯s flesh. Something she could use to start punching, every strike ripping flesh or cracking bone ¡­ but she only got off three blows.


    Beneath her, the cat reared up onto its back paws just enough to get both front paws off the ground, twisted around to the point where it could practically look her in the eye, and smacked her. Chances were, it had prioritized getting her off over landing a precise strike that brought its claws into play, but it still hurt.


    Jaclyn barely managed to get her arms up in time, manifesting two layers of spectral badger fur, but it was enough.


    One of the most underrated parts of her new power was the Raptor¡¯s Reflexes, which almost entirely made up for her low Mind stat.


    Raw, physical speed was a product of the Body stat, but using that speed required Mind, or Spirit with an applicable power.


    However, the only thing gained by Mind that Jaclyn really needed was the reflexes. Raw thinking speed was nice, but not as important. If she had the time to think and come up with a plan, unless Mind was her primary Stat, that meant that the fight had stalled.


    What she needed was the ability to rapidly defend or attack as the situation demanded it. And in high-speed, high-intensity combat, it was a matter of reflexes, muscle memory, and experience, not having a quick mind.


    Even as she slid towards the slippery floor, her hand flashed out to scatter sand across the ground to ensure she had something to stand on.


    The big cat turned towards her and blurred, but Jaclyn grasped two hands full of sand, then threw one into the monster¡¯s face and the second where she was planning to dodge to.


    Blinded, the cat rocketed into the wall, allowing her to land two serious punches to the ribs, but the creature turned to face her a moment later, eyes clear.


    ***


    Thomas grinned. He really should have given his bosses nictitating membranes, also known as the third eyelid held by crocodiles, but also many other reptiles as well as birds and sharks, to protect them from stunts like that. Especially as he gave people bags of sand just outside this room.


    But in the end, he¡¯d come up with a different counter, involving Feline Grace. Simply put, Cheshire could blink at the moment of impact, only briefly losing her sight, and then, she¡¯d be right back up and in full possession of all her senses.


    Something his favorite Delver clearly hadn¡¯t expected.


    ***


    The cat lunged again and Jaclyn used her wings to drag herself sideways, dodging, then reversed course and managed to rip a huge gash in her foe¡¯s belly, but its rear claws flashed out, anchoring it, and suddenly, the cat was perfectly positioned to turn and bat her away again, causing her to hammer into the far wall with enough force that it would have likely killed her just a few Levels ago.


    A burning pain spread across Jaclyn¡¯s back, followed by a ¡°wet¡± feeling in her clothes. She briefly glanced down and saw the red staining her torso.


    Fuck, it had managed to get its claws into play that time. But the damage wasn¡¯t lethal, or even remotely enough to disable her.


    Jaclyn stood back up and growled, a bestial snarl that climbed up from deep inside her chest and rang out with enough volume that it would have made the windows rattle if there¡¯d been any in the room.


    She once again charged through the air, only to realize that all the sand in the bag was falling out. Oh, hell, it had been sliced open during that hit. So, no more creating new areas she could stand on without inadvertently doing her best ¡°Bambi on ice¡± impression. Sure, that had been cute when she¡¯d watched the movie with Eve, but doing the whole thing herself wasn¡¯t exactly fun.


    The cat launched itself at her, paw smashing towards her ¡­ and she grabbed it. By the time it hit, she¡¯d wrapped both her arms and legs around it, instead of being hammered away, she was moving with it ¡­ but then, she met the ground, crushed between the unforgiving floor and the monster¡¯s weight.


    Except weight and the damage caused by it was the one thing that ranking up could not cause.


    And from there, Jaclyn was able to perfectly kick the inside of the big cat¡¯s knee, not succeeding in breaking bone but certainly cracking something, which she immediately followed up by kicking the creature in the throat, then rolling out of the way while it was reeling back.


    She managed to get onto another island of sand with a second roll and stood up in a flash, hands raised defensively while the big cat glared at her.


    After a long moment, they decided to attack at the same exact time.


    Attacking and retreating, dodging and weaving, landing blows and taking some in return.


    The next minute or so was a blur to Jaclyn, during which she didn¡¯t even have the chance to really think about what she was doing, she was just reacting. It was a point-blank brawl, with Jaclyn often turning attacks into opportunities by counterattacking, landing devastating punches to the softest targets she could reach.


    But a headbutt dropped her on her ass and another strike with the paw flicked Jaclyn all the way out of the boss room.


    Ow.


    Jaclyn leaped to her feet but wound up slipping again as the crap that had been on the floor had been spread out here when she¡¯d been pushed over.


    Cursing, she got up properly, moving carefully, raising her fists, but her foe wasn¡¯t looking much better and just lay there, watching her. They were both beaten to hell.


    Jaclyn put her hands on her knees bending over, breathing heavily. Then, she glared at the big cat sitting in the opposite corner, licking its wounds.


    ¡°Draw?¡± she asked, and as though agreeing with her, the big cat chuffed.


    No, she wasn¡¯t happy with not being able to solo a boss monster of her Rank, but she¡¯d fought that damn overgrown housecat to a standstill. And when she¡¯d be fighting Alaxia two days from now, she wouldn¡¯t be alone.

 Chapter 68: The Hunt

    ¡°THIEF!¡±


    Alaxia¡¯s furious roar shook her sanctuary all the way down to its very foundations.


    She¡¯d been lounging sideways on her gold-and-emerald throne, back resting on one armrest, legs dangling off the other one, a platter of crystalfruit grapes resting on her stomach. Someone should have been feeding her, but her old servants were either dead or traitors and no one in this new world had had the wisdom to accept her offer.


    Instead, they¡¯d stolen from her.


    Sure, she¡¯d left the main door open to allow for supplicants to enter, but she¡¯d also made sure to move the valuables behind her, that way, no one would be able to steal stuff until they¡¯d gotten past her. They¡¯d walk down the corridor from the entrance, reach the throne room, and either swear fealty or face her wrath.


    Or so had the idea been. But something had managed it. Oh, if she were still at her full power, her mana would have suffused the entirety of this space and she¡¯d have noticed even a flea entering, but now ¡­ now she hadn¡¯t been able to do that.


    And someone had stolen from her!


    All she saw was a flash of black fur as she charged deeper into her vault, and a blast of fire erased it alongside several cubic meters of floor and all the loot. The price of doing business, she supposed.


    And then, something else flashed past her, holding a vial of potion.


    This time, she caught it, her fingers ripping clean through it in a spray of blood.


    A monkey?


    The creature¡¯s corpse dissolved at her feet.


    A Dungeon monkey? No, that couldn¡¯t be it, no Dungeon could control its creatures this far out and inside someone else¡¯s magical domain.


    And yet here it was, vanishing away into motes of energy.


    Yet another piece of gear vanished from her senses, and letting out a furious roar, Alaxia gave chase.


    It didn¡¯t matter what these things were, she was going to stop then. A wave of her hand filled every corridor that led deeper into the sanctuary from her throne room with flames and she took off after the gaggle of creatures that had dared to take what was hers.


    Of course, she wasn¡¯t an idiot, she activated the defenses behind her, fully protecting her new home.


    The defenses wouldn¡¯t be at full power since the amount of ambient energy in this world was low, but since the strength of the locals was even lower, that wouldn¡¯t be an issue. Not even if it took her days to punish the thieves.


    ***


    The entire jungle shook under the fury of the draconic brat, making it abundantly clear what was going on with the plan.


    Step one, piss off the empress, complete.


    Step two ¡­ pray.


    No, really, that was basically Jaclyn¡¯s part of this play for the next five or so minutes.


    Daedalus¡¯ spider monkey boss had gone in with a series of summoning tokens for regular, E-Rank, spider monkeys, who could not only teleport stuff into their hands but also had a short-range telekinetic field around them that not only served as a powerful defense but was also capable of enhancing their throws.


    They¡¯d gone in and stolen a few things to piss off their target, then run towards the Dungeon with the help of a few of her people, mainly Evans.


    The stoat Anima Monk had decided to ignore the conventional wisdom of ¡°small bonds project, big bonds transform¡± to walk down the path of transformation at E-Rank. He was already plenty fast as a human, reaching around three-quarters of Jaclyn¡¯s despite being almost a full rank below her, but as a stoat, he was practically untouchable.


    Especially when he used it dynamically, flashing into his smaller size anytime an attack was incoming. And he¡¯d even managed to master how he transformed, so that his smallest size could appear in any point his body had occupied previously, making it almost impossible to anticipate where his smaller form would show up.


    Of course, he was also well-stocked on monkey-summoning tokens, so that he could constantly shift the treasures around, between him, his summons, and those of the Dungeon¡¯s boss.


    That way, even the furious dragon would have a hard time hunting him down, since he was the only one of the fleeing group that wouldn¡¯t pop straight back to life. Not to mention that Holmes was on the roof of the museum with a dozen sniper and anti-materiel rifles, each one ready to be overpowered with his power and promptly fall apart after just a few shots.


    And everyone else was waiting in the entrance hall, ready to ambush their target.


    Ideally, they¡¯d have used as many Dungeon creatures as possible as meatshields, but there was one small issue with that. Specifically, their summoning tokens. If they were used inside the Dungeon, for the Dungeon, they¡¯d count against Daedalus¡¯ creature cap, at least that was what the fairy claimed.


    So while being further back might have allowed them to put more creatures between them and the entrance, it would have also badly cut down on their defensive power.


    Which had left them hiding on the mezzanine, with plenty of cover but also the space for the melee fighters to engage. Once Alaxia arrived, everything would end, one way or the other.


    ***


    Alaxia¡¯s jaws opened a split-second before emerald flame erupted from her throat, reducing a centuries-old tree to charcoal and killing one of the monkeys that hadn¡¯t quite gotten far enough away yet. She hadn¡¯t even landed a clean hit, all it had taken was the wave of heat that spread from the flames and the creature¡¯s fur had seemingly spontaneously combusted from sheer proximity alone.


    But even as the creature died, an impact like a small meteor hammered into her forehead and hurled her back on her ass. Where in the realm had that come from!


    This was ¡­ more frustrating than an imperial senate session, despite the fact that here, she was freely able to unleash her wrath upon her foes without consequences.


    And yet, more and more monkeys appeared no matter how many she killed, and that weasel-man was a whole other issue.


    She stumbled to a halt, glared into the distance, and unleashed her energy. It flooded into her surroundings, connecting to what was already present in the plant life around her, having started to seep inside from the very seconds she¡¯d arrived.


    Then, the plants began to move, giant trees folding in on themselves, compressing, while bark transmuted itself into brilliant green scales which wrapped themselves around the swiftly forming bodies.


    Five massive mid-D-Rank monsters dropped onto all fours, draconic minions that could now rip apart these monkeys for her.


    But that weasel, him, she¡¯d tear apart limb from bloody limb!


    ***


    So, that bitch had chosen the smart option and summoned her minions before entering the Dungeon, which really wasn¡¯t good. But when Thomas and Elias put their heads together and really worked on it, they could come up with some really thorough plans.


    Specifically, in this case, that involved splitting their foes. The monkeys would run off with the lesser loot and head towards the British Museum, and Alaxia would almost inevitably send her summons after them while chasing the officer herself.


    Given everything he knew about her, the information Elias had passed along, Alaxia would focus on the ¡°worst offender¡± herself, meaning the one with the most valuable loot, instead of the annoying gaggle of monkeys she really wouldn¡¯t have the patience for.


    But the defenses of the British Museum would have to run on their own, Alaxia was literally one minute away from his main location. If he lost his sub-core, that would suck since he couldn¡¯t recreate it, but if his main core was destroyed, that was it. He¡¯d be dead.


    And until she arrived, he¡¯d be stuck here, passively, waiting. That was the dark side of being a dungeon core. Being unable to relocate was a big issue when an enemy with enough power to threaten him knew where he was, and an even bigger issue when he was on the losing end. He couldn¡¯t retreat, couldn¡¯t flee if shit truly hit the fan, so everything was on the line here.


    Yet he couldn¡¯t have just sent everything to the British Museum, Alaxia would have caught the runners well before they reached safety.


    Alaxia¡¯s entrance to the clearing around the Natural History Museum was explosive. A wave of flame ignited everything between her and her targets, followed by a gigantic blade of emerald light that flashed from her right hand and swept clean through half a dozen trees, which promptly toppled over.


    ¡°So, this is where you¡¯re hiding, then?¡± she roared while the projection vanished, replaced by vibrant green flames that popped into existence in her palms. Then, she thrust them out to the side, where the fire ate through all the foliage there. If those flames retained their strength when she was no longer actively projecting it outward, there would be nothing remaining of the forest come morning.


    It was at this point that countless small metal tokens flew out through the open door and bounced off the ground, scattering. That was when they began to glow and manifest their bound creatures.


    They¡¯d spent quite a lot of time thinking about the best composition, and eventually, they¡¯d decided that while there was no perfect combination, however, they could come up with some pretty good combos.


    E-Rank, fire-resistant tyrannosauruses to draw attention, boomslangs, and fer-de-lances to hide in the underbrush and attack when everything else was distracting her. Saber-tooth tigers to attack first, dragon raptors to distract her in the air, toxic hippos and toxin-fuelled crocodiles for point-blank attacks, and two camarasauruses to bind her long enough for the final strike to land.


    Alaxia seemed to freeze briefly before she went on an all-out attack, aiming right for the biggest threats as she saw them.


    Half a dozen emerald snakes erupted from her left hand and wrapped around the first camarasaurus and began to bite into it while the lady herself exploded into motion, ripping into the second one with her bare hand,flashes of fire and emerald light causing all wounds to become infinitely worse.


    However, even if the biggest creatures failed at fulfilling their initial task, they were still a nice distraction when the ludicrously fast saber-tooths attacked. They lacked the strength to fully rip through her flesh, and chomping down usually broke their teeth, but it still worked, fully worked, if just the tips managed to pierce the skin, at which point they¡¯d immediately fall apart into razor-sharp fragments that remained embedded in the skin or even entered the bloodstream.


    But these critters were E-Rank, with a secondary power based on the flesh-destroying toxin of the fer de lance infusing every single atom of their teeth and claws.


    A detonation of emerald light ripped the big cats off, energy-forged thorny vines tearing apart the next wave of attackers, but a t-rex managed to bull its way through, tank a fireball to the face, and stomp on her.


    And once she was on the ground, the snakes could swarm her, along with the vines controlled by the horde of boomslangs.


    Yet another emerald blade bisected the dinosaur holding her down but when she jumped to her feet, she was still covered in vines and had countless snakes stuck in this foliage, along for the ride biting for all they were worth while the vines just grew and grew, until there was so much foliage on her that all ripping herself free did was drop more plant matter on her from above.


    Suddenly, all plant matter around her withered and died to reveal her standing there, skin transformed into bark, with countless snakes hanging off her like the world¡¯s strangest party decorations.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Alaxia grinned, and charged straight at the nearest hippo, moving so quickly that all the serpents bitting her were ripped off, leaving their fangs behind in her flesh.


    The big animal popped like an overstuffed balloon and she began to scream.


    When the second hippo lumbered into range, it was utterly incinerated by a gigantic fireball in a display of ludicrous overkill, clearly, that stunt had pissed her off.


    Practically throwing a temper tantrum, she went on a rampage, kicking and stomping her way through the remaining monsters, which went well ¡­ until she ran into the crocodiles.


    The moment the toxins covering her splashed onto them, they likewise went crazy, biting and clawing, succeeding in doing damage despite the power difference.


    But despite the damage, she was still able to keep going, keep fighting.


    ***


    It was a bloodbath out there. A scene of carnage straight out of, well, something. Jaclyn saw enough grizzly stuff in her line of work, she didn¡¯t need more of it in her private time.


    And they¡¯d be fighting her now.


    Just as the dragon-woman entered, a massive waterfall hammered into her face from above as Daedalus cracked open the reservoir he¡¯d prepared well ahead of time. The tatzelwyrm blood applied via the hippo had done some damage, but she was the only one who could fight her while she was covered in potent contact poison.


    ¡°So, was that all you can do, Dungeon?¡± Alaxia growled, stalking inside, radiating what Jaclyn could best describe as ¡°wet cat energy¡±. The energy of a creature that wasn¡¯t hurt, exactly, but it was upset and more than willing to commit murder despite the fact that they didn¡¯t consider the slight to have been particularly bad.


    ¡°Maybe, maybe not.¡±


    The smug voice echoed from all over the place, coming from the various dirt-cheap capuchins Daedalus had used as mouthpieces a while ago.


    ¡°But are you brave enough to find out?¡±


    This time, there was only a single speaker, a monkey that stepped out at the far end of the entrance hall, and was promptly annihilated in a flash of light.


    Bit by bit, they were causing her to expend her energy, but they had no bloody clue just how deep her reserves were.


    So after half a dozen more monkeys had lost their lives, the signal was given. Half a dozen flashbangs, uplifted with Arcane Adjustment, detonated in Alaxia¡¯s face, and while she was blinded.


    A hail of fireballs and lighting bolts hammered into her, igniting her bark-like skin, with Jaclyn striking a split second later. She¡¯d launched herself off the mezzanine at just the right moment, manifesting her wings only for the purpose of accelerating her downward momentum, a single beat flying her earthward, until her feet landed directly on Alaxia¡¯s face.


    Her feet, clad in the heaviest boots Daedalus could manufacture, holding some kind of mass-bosting enchantment that had sucked up all her mana, slammed into her opponent¡¯s face like a meteor, the claws of the ancient apex predator closing around her face even before her skull hammered into the ground with a thud so loud that the guys back at the precinct probably heard it.


    From there, Jaclyn spun, causing the claws sprouting from her feet to rip up Alaxia¡¯s face, and executed a straight punch down, only two knuckles extended, straight into her foe¡¯s larynx, feeling something crack, only to immediately grasp her foe¡¯s throat, causing a giant eagle¡¯s claw to manifest around it and drive its claws in.


    The plan had been to wrench her hand back, carving wounds as deep as possible, but a blast of energy threw her backwards and off her target, achieving much the same to happen.


    Wooden splinters flew, as well as drops of what might have been her blood in this transformed state, it didn¡¯t seem like either attack had managed to do much more than mar her previously pristine features.


    ¡°YOU DARE!¡± Alaxia screamed, not even bothering to make it a question. It was just pure fury as she began to rise to her feet, but Henderson was right in her face at that point, one arm transformed into an almighty bear¡¯s paw and gave her the mother of all slaps. He¡¯d boxed previously, but as it turned out, bears weren¡¯t really built for straight punches.


    A mighty impact with his flat hand, followed by all five of his claws being dragged across her cheek as his hand continued onwards, did plenty of damage regardless.


    And his bear bond was perfect for hits like this, boosting not only his strength but also the weight behind his blows and Alaxia was sent flying, straight into a pile of old-fashioned dynamite, which promptly blew sky-high.


    That hadn¡¯t been lying there the whole time, of course, Holmes had used a monkey to deposit upgraded explosives there the moment her trajectory had been set. Or, more specifically, he¡¯d sent in the summoned monkey before, then had it summon the bombs at just the right moment.


    She went flying, and Jaclyn flew towards and intercepted her, inadvertently canceling her wings when she punched the dragon, a straight shot to the temple that should, once again, have been lethal.


    Evans intercepted her there, getting off two quick strikes at the eyes before he left again, only for a barrage of tiny yet supremely well-aimed magic missiles from Granger to hit, each individually guided. One for each eyeball, one through each ear and hammering into the eardrum, and Jaclyn was pretty sure she even saw two slip up her foe¡¯s nostrils, hammering into the fragile bones that separated the nasal space from the brain.


    Alaxia stumbled, the hit to the ear having disoriented her, but Evans was behind her by that point and clapped his hands on either side of her head, massively exacerbating the initial strike.


    She whirled, hand thrust out, and it would have taken his head off, but he simply transformed into his adorable alternate form and scampered away through a small hole in the wall, leaving Alaxia to rage.


    It was a constant in and out, ducking and weaving, landing strikes before running like hell, with spells aimed straight at the eyes or ears inflicting as much damage as possible and disorienting their enemy, but it couldn¡¯t last.


    Granger was the first to go, having run out of mana and ducked behind a column to recover.


    Henderson went flying into a column and didn¡¯t get up again.


    Holmes¡¯ arm was ripped off when Alaxia spotted him and annihilated his rifle with an energy blast.


    But they were wearing Alaxia down. Her wooden armor was hanging in shreds, and she was breathing heavily but it sounded deeply wrong, labored, as though Jaclyn¡¯s punch to the throat had actually managed to do something.


    Jaclyn flung herself forward again, this time aiming for the dragon¡¯s stomach since Alaxia had learned to keep her head and throat protected by now ¡­ and the world went white.


    When she came to, the entire room was still covered in floating sparks of emerald energy, and people were still sliding down from where they¡¯d impacted the walls.


    Jaclyn groaned despite herself, causing Alaxia¡¯s head to snap over to her.


    The other woman was in a truly horrific state, her wooden armor having likely been sacrificed to fuel that explosion, and the clothing underneath had likewise been mostly gone by the time she¡¯d ever raised the defense, but she was by no means nude.


    Instead, cracks had appeared in her skin, and in the place where Henderson had torn off her wooden mask, her human out layer was entirely missing, granting sight at a reptilian visage with a neon-green eye that observed her coldly.


    ¡°You would truly make an impressive imperial guard, chimera woman,¡± she said, her voice having gained a hissing quality since she¡¯d last spoken. ¡°That kind of dedication, that kind of ferocity, that kind of willingness to self-sacrifice, oh, you¡¯re perfect.¡±


    She grinned at that point, causing her skin around her mouth to tear and expose a mouth with razor-sharp teeth, but only half of them had been replaced, the others were still perfectly human. It was horrifying.


    ¡°But you raised your hand against your rightful empress. If you haven¡¯t chosen to submit by the time I¡¯ve destroyed that damnable core, you¡¯ll pay the price for that.¡±


    Jaclyn tried to get to her feet, but something felt broken inside of her. Daedalus had healing potions, he¡¯d promised he¡¯d use them, but he certainly couldn¡¯t do so inside the room.


    And with that passing remark, Alaxia walked out, heading deeper.


    ***


    Five dragons chased a gaggle of monkeys through a jungle. They were powerful, deadly, sure, but not exactly as agile as their quarry.


    In the distance, a building rose up in the jungle far more pristine than anything else around it. The monkeys went inside, so the dragons gave chase.


    The first room was filled with self-levitating vases and animated armor, which the dragons were able to fight their way through but lost one when it bit down on a vase just as it was exploding.


    Four left.


    The second room was dedicated to education, while the third one, well, the marble hoplites let them enter, summoned marble pillars to cut down off a single creature, and tore them apart in formation.


    Three left.


    A Guardian bull managed to tackle and curse one as they went up the stairs, it was promptly incinerated but its victim was badly limping at that point, only to be torn apart in the Chinese gallery.


    Two left.


    Both dragons decided to flood the Egyptian section with fire before advancing, but one was swarmed with undead cats and cursed to hell and back before staggering into the boss room while the other was weighed down by every surviving mummy, who wrapped one bandage around their target and the other around something solid, fully trapping it until the cats could return and tear it to shreds.


    One left ¡­ for all of two seconds. Then, the Guardian Gestalt trampled the final survivor into the ground.


    Thomas sighed as he got the information of the happenings in the other museum. At least that was done, things weren¡¯t going nearly as well over here.


    ***


    Alaxia marched into the first room and unleashed a blast of blame from both hands, causing flames to leak up between the lower layer of scales and the upper layer of skin, causing more to flake off, while roaring in fury.


    Most dinosaurs were instantly annihilated, a camarasaurus managed to clip her around the back of her head with its tail before dying, but that was just about the end of it.


    Except for the draconic tyrannosaurus, who charged at the invader, and chomped down on her torso. It seemed to be the end of the road for the dragon lady ¡­ and then the dinosaur¡¯s head exploded from the inside.


    What emerged was an even more grotesque sight than before, a huge mess of shredded skin, broken scales, patches where both were merged, and a crippled wing emerged from one shoulderblade, nonfunctional but clearly very much present.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Thomas asked, relaying the information to Elias.


    ¡°Sounds like everything she¡¯s done to herself is in conflict. She got stuffed into a human body but has the Draconic Physiology power, she started out in harmony with her body but her power started to return and disrupted everything, she probably took a whole bunch of those cultivation tonics she stashed away in her bolthole, and now, she¡¯s burning through all this energy.


    ¡°Everything is coming apart now, and instead of trying to slow down and make things happen normally, she¡¯s desperate to take her revenge?¡±


    ¡°Is that going to happen to me?¡± Thomas asked, suddenly very nervous.


    ¡°Did you eat a bunch of magical medicine while I wasn¡¯t looking?¡± Elias asked.


    ¡°I mean, kinda?¡± Thomas was now even more scared. ¡°I absorbed that magic potion ¡­¡±


    ¡°I meant actually eat, not absorb for their pattern,¡± Elias sighed.


    ¡°No ¡­¡±


    ¡°Did you have a whole bunch of power that you lost and is now flooding back in to disrupt the equilibrium of your existence?¡±


    ¡°I jumped straight to E-Rank from nothing,¡± Thomas pointed out, feeling the need to make sure that wasn¡¯t going to be an issue now that the seed had been planted in his mind.


    Elias sighed. ¡°Yes, but you were transformed into a Dungeon core, they¡¯re notoriously durable. That scaly bitch got stuffed into a fragile little human, and she¡¯s basically done everything she could do to make that meld go horribly wrong.¡±


    That ¡­ that was a relief.


    ¡°Any chance it¡¯s going to kill her before she kills us?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°No ¡­¡± Elias sighed. ¡°In fact, I think she¡¯s getting stronger.¡±


    Over the course of this conversation, Alaxia had reached Cheshire¡¯s room and was charging in, only to have her feet immediately go flying out from under her, and Cheshire snatched her from midair with her mouth, then hurled her into the far wall like a frisbee.


    Alaxia tried to stand up, slipped again, then unleashed a furious wave of energy that swept away all the grease on the ground, allowing her to get to her feet.


    ¡°YOU DAMNED ¡­¡±


    Whatever she was going to say next was drowned out by Cheshire¡¯s furious roar, and she barely managed to get her hands up to defend herself. Vicious strikes ripped open the invader¡¯s arms and legs, but a single powerful blow sent the boss sprawling, and Alaxia advanced.


    She¡¯d grown to three meters tall and was visibly malformed, her head entirely a dragon¡¯s but half her teeth were still human, one wing shattered and twisted but appropriate for her size, the second having appeared but entirely remained tiny, one arm longer than the other and attached to a hugely muscular shoulder.


    Her head snapped to the side when a projected claw raked across her cheek, but she eviscerated the big cat with a single swipe of her claws and that was the end of Thomas¡¯ first boss.


    Alaxia continued to mutate as she tore her way through the next two rooms, dropping back down onto all fours but her limbs had the same length as before, making the whole thing even more bizarre.


    If she¡¯d stopped for even a second, realized what was going on, she might even have been able to stop it.


    But the empress from the other world was too busy screaming profanity and ripping her way through giant sloths and sabertooth tigers until she reached the modern-day area. It mostly went well, though she¡¯d seemingly forgotten about her experience outside and bit a hippo in half only to spend the next thirty seconds rolling around on the floor in agony.


    She didn¡¯t even say anything after that, whether it was due to brain damage, a destroyed tongue, her sulking, or having fully become a beast, Thomas didn¡¯t know. And he wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to know.


    Dexter was her next stop, and she didn¡¯t enjoy it at all. His elongated arm shot out, grabbed her wing, and yanked.


    With a startled roar filled with pain, she slid into the room while the bones grasped in the giant sloth¡¯s broke with a loud crack.


    But she was immediately met with Dexter¡¯s other fist, which slammed into her torso, and her injured wing tore off with a sound that Thomas wished he could forget, but knew would haunt him for the rest of his life.


    However, she didn¡¯t go sliding right back out of the room, instead, she slammed into a freshly-summoned stone pillar, and Dexter took that as his chance to hit her again, doing so with enough force that the ludicrously durable dungeon stone behind her cracked.


    Alaxia launched herself at him and he took it, managing to trap her head under his right upper arm before winding it around her neck while his left arm managed to trap most of her limbs. She cursed and struggled, but he took off at a run, deeper into the Dungeon. He had her trapped, but slowly suffocating her while he scratched at her with his envenomated claws wasn¡¯t really doing much.


    So he found a pitfall trap, lined with spikes, and threw himself in, increasing his mass as much as physically possible, crushing the invader between him and the deadly trap beneath her.


    Emerald light began to shine from beneath him, illuminating the entire room, until there was an explosion bright enough that even Thomas had trouble seeing what was going on in his own Dungeon.


    Dexter was gone, and the perfectly square hole in the ground had been turned into a round crater, but Alaxia was barely able to drag herself out.


    Yet, she didn¡¯t flee.


    She just kept going, kept advancing, using fire breath to annihilate the relatively weak creatures in the next room, and just rolled over the snakes in the one after that, though by the end, she was visibly loopy from the venom.


    It was the next room that ended her. Or rather, the staircase.


    Thomas had set up this particular ¡°trap¡± a while ago, channels connected to all the various bits of water upstairs, and once he removed the plug via a monkey teleporting it away, his foe was blasted across the room and into another pit full of spikes, one that was now rapidly filling with water.


    When a standard giant sloth started piling stones on top and pouring barrels of Tatzelwyrm venom over everything, that was just adding insult to injury.


    Thomas sighed in relief.


    He¡¯d already revived the survivors of the police unit, re-created the armored personnel carrier they¡¯d let him absorb, and sent them on their way with a bunch of samples from Alaxia¡¯s body, so that they could decide which they wanted in the loot table.


    But for now, peace.

 Chapter 69: Epilog

    Yesterday had been a bloodbath. Half the people she¡¯d been training up had died.


    And the public had celebrated. Because they didn¡¯t know.


    Oh, sure, the fact that there were casualties was known, and they¡¯d learn the names of the dead when the memorial was erected, but that wouldn¡¯t reveal everything.


    The BPA was largely operating under similar protocols as special forces. General knowledge was available, and they didn¡¯t try to stop it since they really couldn¡¯t prevent all information from leaking out, but everything else was kept under wraps. People knew they existed, people knew their mission statement, and they¡¯d soon also know she was in charge.


    But their numbers average power levels, maximum power levels, unit compositions once they had enough people to create multiple distinct groups with a pre-chosen Class set, all of that would be as private as they could mention.


    And therefore, who would know how many people had been in the fight? How many people had survived compared to the number of the dead?


    People would assume it had been a glorious victory, that there¡¯d been a hundred people who¡¯d worked together to win, because that was infinitely more comforting than believing that the shield meant to protect them had been cracked straight down the middle.


    The only thing that wasn¡¯t fully awful about the current situation was how there wouldn¡¯t be an endless flood of inquiries of armchair chiefs trying to explain to her how she could have done better when their own times in the fields were decades in the past if it existed at all, and without a lick of practical experiences in the current world.


    But even if someone in the gutted government had tried something, Jaclyn knew for a fact that Frye would have crushed them with every iota of power and influence that he could bring to bear.


    Officially, no blame would land on her shoulders.


    Unofficially, she¡¯d be the first to point the finger at herself, even in full awareness of how irrational that was.


    But she couldn¡¯t help feeling bad. Being a police officer was inherently dangerous, she¡¯d lost friends and colleagues before, but this was the first time she¡¯d been in charge of the operation that had killed them. And that sucked, it really did.


    She knew about all the reasons why she shouldn¡¯t feel guilty, ranging from the fact that she¡¯d done her best, been in just as much danger as everyone else had been, to the fact that the alternative to that operation would have been a nuke. A nuke that may or may not have worked depending on how precise their targeting information was.


    She knew all that, but she wasn¡¯t a robot, some perfectly logical alien from some sci-fi show, or experienced enough at this job to have gone through this before.


    It hurt, it really did, some more than others. And yet, sometimes, the thing that hurt the most was when it didn¡¯t hurt, that she¡¯d barely known some of the people who¡¯d died and would never get the chance to know them.


    But also, when she wasn¡¯t busy with self-flagellation over not getting to know her subordinates, it was the people she did know who were at the forefront of her mind. Mostly Holmes and Evans.


    Holmes had created a Class, a power that would likely transform humanity¡¯s future trajectory. Because he¡¯d been a combat engineer who built model trains as a hobby, his Skills had all been about building stuff. But at first, he¡¯d been so embarrassed to admit that he liked model trains because that somewhat clashed with the tough-guy facade he normally had up.


    Eventually, though, he¡¯d decided to wear his colors proudly, because screw it, he¡¯d just created a fucking Class and it bloody well worked!


    And Evans, well, he¡¯d probably been the person she¡¯d felt the most kinship to, another person with the Anima Monk who really loved the Class, spending a lot of time trying to understand the animal he¡¯d chosen as his bond to use it to its fullest.


    After hitting E-Rank, he¡¯d also gained a habit of transforming and sleeping in random places, simply because finding a soft spot big enough for his human body was a lot harder than using a random pillow.


    It had been adorable ¡­ except that one time that Harper had sat on him. Evans really shouldn¡¯t have fallen asleep on a couch that was almost the exact same shade of brown as his fur. That had just been plain funny at the time, but now, the memory just hurt.


    As did the power she¡¯d gained. She knew it hadn¡¯t been her fault, that it hadn¡¯t been bought with their blood, but it still didn¡¯t feel good.


    <table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Name: Jaclyn Abrams


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    Race: Human


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="top">


    Class: Anima Monk


    </td>


    <td valign="top">


    D-Rank, Level 0 -> 5/20


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Class Abilities


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit Bond: Honey Badger (F-Rank)


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit Projection (E-Rank)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Ancient Bond: Haast¡¯s Eagle (D-Rank)


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Statistics (0 points available)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Body: 150 -> 195


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Magic: 15


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Mind: 125


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Spirit: 124 -> 204


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Skills


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Pugilism 31 -> 33


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Fist of Indomitable Badger 31 -> 35


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Athletics 30 -> 31


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Situational Awareness 30


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Bullshit Radar 19


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Martial Arts 32 -> 34


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    Alternate Skill Set (currently inactive, switch unavailable)


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Mana Control 7


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Utility Magic 6


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Ballance 14


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Breathing 10


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td valign="middle">


    Inspect 7


    </td>


    <td valign="middle">


    Movement 5


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td colspan="2" valign="middle">


    ***


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    The growth at D-Rank was meant to be slow, but she¡¯d basically skipped a full quarter of it, and every single Level had given her a whopping twenty-five points, which she¡¯d likely overinvested into Spirit. But the boost to her toughness and reflexes in particular made her feel like a whole other person.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Jaclyn sighed. She¡¯d already made an appointment to talk to a shrink, and until that time, she¡¯d just keep moving onwards.


    Soon she reached Frye¡¯s office and entered.


    ¡°Everything squared away?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Everything I can do right now,¡± she shrugged, then eventually asked.¡°Are you sure it was a good idea to let Daedalus loot the sanctuary?¡±


    Frye shrugged. ¡°If anyone had thought about it ahead of time, we¡¯d have prepared to go after it the second she died. But we didn¡¯t, and quite frankly, I¡¯m not sure we have the capability to loot it. Not anymore, and not for a few more weeks.¡±


    Jaclyn flinched.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Frye sighed. ¡°You should have seen me after my first time being in charge of an ¡­ of something like that. I know it doesn¡¯t feel like it right now, but you¡¯re holding up well. If you ever need to find someone to talk ¡­¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Jaclyn sighed and shook her head. ¡°Already made an appointment.¡±


    ¡°Took me a month to take that leap,¡± Frye admitted before changing the topic back to the original. ¡°You¡¯re sure that Daedalus can¡¯t use the stuff in the sanctuary, right?¡±


    ¡°Gula said he can¡¯t use any of the elixirs and most magical items won¡¯t work for him either. But she can¡¯t guarantee that he can¡¯t use anything,¡± Jaclyn reminded him.


    ¡°Remember what he said during the meeting, about how he can¡¯t really fuck us over in any major way because if he gets a reputation for being untrustworthy, he¡¯ll fuck himself over for centuries to come?¡± Frye asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll go too far.¡±


    Jaclyn stroked her chin thoughtfully.


    ¡°Actually, is he going to steal everything? I mean, if he isn¡¯t going to screw us over, ever ¡­¡± she trailed off.


    ¡°Did he, though?¡± Frye asked. ¡°I mean, that was such an obvious part of ¡®all loot¡¯, and we¡¯ll get an infinite number of replicas of everything he managed to get his hands through loot.¡±


    Jaclyn shrugged. ¡°Is it wrong that I¡¯m sort of glad we missed that trick?¡±


    ¡°Honestly, I shudder to imagine what our government would have done with cultivation resources,¡± Frye admitted. ¡°It would probably have been better than what Fields did, but everything else ¡­¡±


    ¡°No, imagine what would have happened when those resources ran out,¡± Jaclyn suggested.


    Frye blanched. ¡°You know what, suddenly, I¡¯m actually really happy that we¡¯re using a System and can¡¯t make cultivators.¡±


    ¡°We?¡± Jaclyn asked.


    Frye shrugged. ¡°Logos Mage. What can I say, I like the multitasking, though my magic sucks.¡±


    ¡°Good luck with that,¡± Jaclyn said. ¡°But I think we do need to get some proper work done now.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we do,¡± Frye sighed and swept a series of papers to the side before pulling up another folder. ¡°So, where are we on making a proper armory of magical gear.¡±


    ¡°Well, we need more gravity boots, but mine broke ¡­¡± Jaclyn began.


    The whole meeting took a couple of hours. Foster showed up about half an hour in, having finished a job of her own and knowing that they¡¯d soon reach a topic concerning her field of authority.


    Once that was done, she headed out to take care of some other stuff.


    ¡°Oh, could you talk to the guys in R&D so that they can finally get us that list of what of Alaxia¡¯s should enter the loot pool?¡± Jaclyn asked Granger as he passed her in the corridor.


    ¡°I thought he was going to just add what could be useful?¡± he asked.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t define ¡®useful¡¯ in the contract, and we could probably get some use out of any part of her. He asked for a list, so we¡¯re going to give it to him.¡±


    Granger winced. ¡°Knowing Daedalus, he¡¯d take that as an invitation to make the Alaxia loot dropping an entire body on whoever looks like they¡¯d shriek the loudest.¡±


    Actually, that sounded exactly like something he¡¯d do, Jaclyn realized. Silly without being destructive, or particularly malicious.


    For an utterly alien creature that built deathtraps, Daedalus¡¯ sense of humor was surprisingly human. As was his understanding of the word ¡°cute¡±.


    What did all that say about the Dungeon Core? How human was he?


    And what was Deadalus¡¯ mental age?


    Still, all that was a question for later.


    For now, she¡¯d make sure the arrangements for the funerals and memorial were done, take a couple of days to get the next group of trainees ready, and then, finally, she¡¯d drive up to Manchester and give Eve a long hug. And probably wind up letting the little moppet have a truly absurd amount of candy.


    ***


    Chances were, the British government hadn¡¯t intended to give him all the loot in Alaxia¡¯s lair too, but they hadn¡¯t told him not to, and it really had been all but printed on the contract they¡¯d signed when agreeing to kill her together.


    He¡¯d get all the loot.


    And besides, he¡¯d be giving the useful stuff to delvers who earned it. Of those who amused him. Or if someone brought him something cool, be it an item, an animal part, or just a cute costume for one of his creatures.


    Also, it had cost him hundreds of monkeys to reach the treasure hall. The humans outside would probably have either failed or given up once the casualties reached an unacceptable level.


    Now, though, it was just a matter of counting the loot, so to speak. Large creatures under Jan¡¯s control were carrying stuff to the Dungeon while small loot was just being directly transferred by the monkey.


    ¡°Okay, so these things need labels, wrong person drinks these and they¡¯ll pop,¡± Elias announced while flying above a series of potion bottles. ¡°I have no idea why she had all of these, but these are restoration potions for free qi, mana, chakra, and reiki. Actually, the reiki one works for everyone, since reiki is a purely physical energy, it¡¯s a combination healing and energy restoration potion that¡¯ll fix exhaustion in non-reiki users.¡±


    ¡°Free qi?¡± Thomas asked.


    ¡°You can¡¯t use it to expand your cultivation base, but it¡¯ll fix the exhaustion of using up all the qi that normally freely floats in your core,¡± Elias explains as he flitted over to another series of vials, these humming with power.


    ¡°Bloodline elixirs, you should get someone to drink one of these just to see their faces.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Thomas deadpanned.


    ¡°Basically, if a System user had or gets a cultivation bloodline, they can¡¯t use it because you need qi for almost all the bloodline abilities to work, because they need to be folded into your cultivation base. On a System user, you¡¯ll just get the physical upgrades and changes. A black turtle bloodline will make you tougher but only in the spots where the shell grows, an azure dragon bloodline will give you cool hair and make you a little more resistant to lightning, and so on.¡±


    ¡°Basically, it¡¯s a skin,¡± Thomas observed.


    ¡°No, it¡¯s blood,¡± Elias insisted.


    Thomas started to laugh.


    ¡°Not actual skin-skin, it¡¯s something out of a video game. Something that changes your appearance because it looks cool but doesn¡¯t change much of anything.¡±


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± the fairy shrugged. ¡°Back on Dretolara, people would pay a lot for cosmetics. I¡¯m guessing the people here are similar?¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± Thomas agreed.


    There were a lot of cultivation resources here, but ones that were also useful for monsters like Alaxia. Apparently, there was quite a lot of overlap.


    Then you had various bits of gear, but far fewer than Thomas had expected. Ten full suits that registered as ¡°Imperial Guardsman Parade Armor, B-Rank¡± and appropriate weapons, that he would only be handing out once there were people who could use them. But that was it.


    That sort of made sense, this was a refuge for her alone since only a teleporter could bring her here, but it was a little disappointing to him. He¡¯d have loved to get his hands on a bunch of high-Level gear, even if he couldn¡¯t use any of it.


    Still, he was almost halfway to C-Rank, thanks to Alaxia, and he had a ton of books to read from her library, he¡¯d come out of this with plenty of loot and other gains.


    Then, he reached a new room, and froze. Well, Jan did, Thomas¡¯ mind just threw up a blue screen of death. It was a massive bit of machinery, too big to ever carry away, and he wanted it.


    So, with great reluctance, Thomas reached out with his domain, built a narrow tunnel to the refuge, and absorbed it in its entirety.


    It would have made it so much easier if he¡¯d done it from the start, admittedly, but he¡¯d just blown all the accumulated domain expansion potential since the beginning of D-Rank. Sure, he hadn¡¯t needed it yet, he had plenty of space available, but honestly, he wasn¡¯t the biggest fan of needing to wait to dig his core in any deeper.


    And suddenly, he knew exactly what that was. Alaxia¡¯s teleporter, the thing that had snatched her up when she¡¯d been at the brink of death, saving her life, and deposited her here, just in time for this jungle to be smashed down onto Earth and her to be fused with a human.


    But it was so much more, his domain told him. It needed to be upgraded with the body parts of creatures that were ¡°dimensional anchors¡±, creatures so powerful that they could hold reality around themselves stable, to become a ¡°vortex controller¡±. Something that could create and control inter-dimensional gates and other means of spatial travel.


    Hold on, he¡¯d read something about both of those in this book over here, it had looked so interesting that he¡¯d read the first few pages, let¡¯s see ¡­ ah, here.


    ¡°Traversing Reality,¡± by ¡°author unknown.¡±


    ¡°Dimensional anchors are powerful creatures whose mana or equivalent energy flows into their surroundings, stabilizing it, allowing it travel through portals in its entirety, take off from the original world as a mystic realm, or endure spatial storms. Their body parts can be powerful components for devices dealing with dimensionalism, even when they themselves do not hold related powers.¡±


    That ¡­ okay, honestly, that explained a lot about how the jungle had survived the supposed collapse of the multiverse.


    And the second passage was just the cherry on top.


    ¡°Vortex controllers are the ultimate guardians of a planet¡¯s portal-based capabilities, acting as a sentinel protecting the world from hostile invaders. They are even able to redirect existing portals when necessary. However, the construction of a vortex controller requires an extreme amount of resources, including vital organs from at least five dimensional anchors.¡±


    That sounded nice, didn¡¯t it? It would likely be a while before he needed something like this, but he could probably really use it later on.


    And what do you know, manifesting a copy of Alaxia¡¯s heart in a slot near the base of the machine, it almost instantly crystalized and the machine began to hum a little louder. Pretty cool. Now, Thomas had to get his hands on the bodies of the other dimensional anchors, just so that he could complete the set. After all, there were other magical areas out there, and they had to have anchors too, right?


    Oh, a whole new adventure to have, of governments to bribe, people to empower so that they could kill these monsters for him, and maybe he could even figure out how to travel himself.


    The world was his oyster, and his dungeon powers were his ¡­ er, what the fuck did you open oysters with? Your hands? Knife? Special oyster shucking tool he was too dumb to know about?


    What the hell, that wasn¡¯t the point. Adventure was!


    ***


    Somewhere in the depths of a dead Empress¡¯ sanctuary, a device was going crazy. It looked like a cross between a gyroscope and a solar system model that half a dozen dictionaries of languages that didn¡¯t use the English alphabet had thrown up on.


    No one currently alive or dead on planet Earth could have properly analyzed the machine itself, but the hologram above it was meant to be understood, and its statement was alarming.


    ¡°Dimensional Cracks detected. Imminent Dimensional Incursions detected in eight spots.


    ¡°Foreign invasion imminent, Vortex Controller required.


    ¡°Time remaining: 1.334 local years.¡±

 Book 1 is out on Amazon!

    Hey guys, Museum Core 1 just came out on Amazon, so all Chapters up to 37 are getting taken down.


    The Audio Book is also coming out soon, and will be voiced by the incredible Johnathan McClain.


    If anyone feels like hopping onto Amazon and giving it a good review, that would be great because it really helps out.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Book 2 is currently slated to come out in February, though it''ll likely get moved up as I start work on book three.


    I''ll finish Outrage of the Ancients Book 1 (and release it on Royal Road, currently a third of the way done) before I continue with Museum Core, then alternate between those two until one is finished.


    But I promise you, I won''t drop this story like a hot potato just because it didn''t do as well as my first one.


    It''s been a real pleasure to write this story, and to see so many people enjoy it.

 Book 1 Audio is out!

    First, I''d like to reierate that I''ll be continuing this series, specifically, after Outrage of the Ancients Book 2 has been finished (should be done in around a month, plus break, so mid-January at the latest barring unexpected complications).


    Second, Museum Core 1''s audiobook is finally finished, narrated by the incredibly talented Johnathan McClain (https://www.audible.com/pd/Museum-Core-Audiobook/B0DNZYTKHY?qid=1732637769&sr=1-1&ref_pageloadid=not_applicable&pf_rd_p=83218cca-c308-412f-bfcf-90198b687a2f&pf_rd_r=0ZD5BEB0F8M41H11WV8Y&plink=H9pMNVKkSssl1QAL&pageLoadId=UXGxxdtjG6DsVWo8&creativeId=0d6f6720-f41c-457e-a42b-8c8dceb62f2c&ref=a_search_c3_lProduct_1_1</a>), I hope you enjoy. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    And third, Book 2 will be coming out in February 2025, its Audio Book should be coming out more promptly.

 Chapter 70: Book 3 Prolog

    Surviving danger beget Levels.


    Levels beget power.


    Power begets advanced physical and mental faculties.


    And what would he do with such superhuman abilities?


    Why, he¡¯d use them to get his work done more quickly, allowing him to actually get some sleep for the first time in almost two months.


    Yes, Rowan Frye, Director of the Bureau of Preternatural Affairs definitely had his priorities straight and was not in the least sleep deprived.


    Especially since he¡¯d walked into a freaking Dungeon to gain that power ¡­ with company, of course. Wyatt Granger, the BPA¡¯s foremost mage, had ¡°invited¡± him along, to get a feel for how things worked in the field, and Frye had accepted. Now that the young man had reached early D-Rank, demonstrating his full power in the shooting range would have been a little risky.


    Besides, he could use the power boost, especially with Deputy Director Jaclyn Abrams in America to foster international relations and Director of Operations Nicole Foster, the only reason the agency was still intact, was off in the UK¡¯s new capital. Frye¡¯s own Logos Mage Class was built around the core principle of increasing one¡¯s multitasking ability and leveraging that into devastating offensive power, but it could also be used to effectively take in a huge volume of information and fill out an absurd amount of paperwork in a fairly short amount of time.


    Using superpowers like that was sacrilege, according to some, but someone with such powers in his position was a massive force multiplier, if he could get them.


    Hence, his presence here, at the back of the Dungeon delving party, trying to not look too much like he was covering behind his subordinates. He still needed their respect after this.


    It was a little daft, but that was how the world worked. Even if he knew why he was staying in the background, doing very little making sure to keep Henderson between him and the boss monster, and everyone else also knew, that did not change the fact that people would likely see him in a different light.


    As ¡°evolved¡± as humanity liked to consider itself, there was more than a little caveman instinct left.


    ***


    Wyatt


    Superpowers were cool. Magic was cooler. And the System, well, it combined both the superhuman strength of comic heroes and Anime characters with the world- and reality-warping mysticism of magic.


    Chaos and destruction aside, he loved the way things worked nowadays. Not enough to have chosen to have it happen in light of the state it had left the world in, if he¡¯d been in a position to choose, that was, but he still enjoyed the positives of how things had worked out.


    Such as his new status as England¡¯s best magic caster, being not just the highest-leveled and but also having created the Class everyone else used to learn spells.


    Apparently, even the System thoguht that was cool, considering that upon reaching D-Rank, the requirements for the unlockable Skills had literally been ¡°overridden for Class creator.¡±


    As for the power he¡¯d taken, it was called ¡°Kernel of Truth¡± and let him strip away all the spellwork surrounding the core of any spell he knew and learn the ¡°truth¡± of the element the spell manipulated, which he could then directly manipulate to a limited degree, and at an insane mana cost. It also made modifying spells of the same element a million times easier, and then his E-Rank ability, Arcane Library of the Mind, let him cast these modified versions as easily as he could the base version, making him something of a monster compared to the, well, actual monsters they faced in the dungeon.


    ¡°Ready?¡± Henderson asked from his position next to the doorway that led to the first boss room, which contained a D-Rank champion sabertooth tiger with impossibly sharp claws that could be projected into ranged slashes, had a power that provided ridiculous bursts of speed, and was flexibe enough to singlehandedly proove the ¡°cat¡¯s are liquid¡± hypothesis. Oh, and the entire floor was covered in some kind of oil that made it slicker than a freshly-frozen pond.


    If Wyatt were to step in there himself, he¡¯d die in less than a second, but Henderson was here to play tank. The burly ex-police officer had already looked exactly like a bear even before he¡¯d chosen Anima Monk and picked a grizzly as a bond, then gone for the transformation path and finally grabbed an ankylosaurus as his second bond at D-Rank, which he¡¯d reached as well, becoming the third British person to do so.


    Even in his human form, he was built like a brick shithouse and twice as tough, as well as being nearly impossible to move by force without having ridiculous strenght or an overly slippery floor.


    ¡°One second,¡± Wyatt replied, raising his right hand to point his palm at the floor in the room beyond, magic gathering there, while he waved off the capuchin monkey in the concierge¡¯s uniform trying to offer him a bag of sand.


    That was how you were supposed to beat the room, after all. If you weren¡¯t out to actually destroy the Dungeon, you¡¯d be offered a single bag of sand to counter the lubricant on the floor, and have to make do with that.


    Normally, that was.


    ¡°Ready,¡± Wyatt announced, and when none of the gathered group stopped him, cast the first stone. Or rahter, the first spell. A modified and overcharged cleansing spell washed out from his hand and wiped the entire room clean, instantly transforming the battlefield from a slippery hellscape into something much more manageable. The floor was still made from unnaturally smooth marble, but ont problematically so.


    The tiger they were facing reacted instantly, claws unsheathing with nary a sound as it lunged at them so quickly all he could see was a blur.


    And then Henderson was between them, right fist cocked back as he fed the beast his left forearm, a combination of thick dinosaur skin and even thicker fur blunting the attack by the incoming razor claws. Not by much, but it was more than sufficient to allow him to keep his arm and then, his counterattack landed.


    As far as Wyatt knew, Henderson¡¯s fighting experience outside of general police takedown techniques was boxing, and you never saw boxers throw those kinds of telegraphed, easy to anticipate punches because, well, any idiot could avoid and/or counterattack.


    But in this situation, it was Henderson who¡¯d done the anticipating. His entire body rotated as he threw every ounce of power he could muster behind his fist as it crunched into the tiger¡¯s ribcage in a thundering impact that could be felt even by the furthest-back individuals in the delving party.


    They should have both been sent flying, pushed apart by the tremendous force involved in that colision, but Henderson had two powers belonging to creatures known for being heavy, tough, and near-impossible to move. He stayed put. The cat ¡­ didn¡¯t. In fact, it nearly bent double, folded in half like yesterday¡¯s laundry as it went flying, rocketing into the far wall and bouncing off, landing lightly on the other side of the room.


    That initial clash might have looked extremely one-sided and weighed towards the humans to boot, but unfortunately, that could not have been further from the truth.


    While blood was already starting to drip from the four paralell gashes on Henderson¡¯s left arm, the cat was looking fine, having bent to absorb the impact of the punch and then functionally ignored the impact against the wall and subsequent fall. Cats rarely cared when they could just land on their feet.


    But that had been expected. The dungeon boss was tough, and they¡¯d just needed the breathing room to enter the boss chamber and prepare.


    Barbed wire enhanced by the holders of the Gearhead Class was thrown out between them and the cat, spells were prepared, ¡°primitive¡± wooden crows feet made by Primal Warriors spread out as well, nets readied, and the first barrage of spells unleashed. Magic missiles, primarily, though the occasional fireball was in there was well.


    As for Wyatt, well, he¡¯d spent the last month experimenting with every combination and variant he could from the spells he had. Lightning-infused magic missiles, each one individually controlled by one of his several paralell minds, launched themselves at the cat just as it tried to leap at then, aiming straight at where a regular tiger¡¯s major nerve centers would have been, and impacting at just the right time to make its muscles spasm right as it tried to leave the ground.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    The tiger promptly belly-flopped into the traps only for telekinetically flung razor wire to land on top of it, and then, slowly, wrap around it. At least they tried to do that ¡­ it failed. Miserably. The tiger was just too damn fast, too damn flexible, and too damn good at adapting to what they were trying to do. Or maybe it was just trying to avoid getting tangled up and was just running on pure instinct.


    A second salvo of spells was unleashed, far more ragged than the first, amidst continuous gunfire. Some missed, others only dealt glancing blows, but several connected. Including Wyatt¡¯s own. Thirty tiny, incredibly underpowered Magic missiles divided into five swarms, each of which he individually guided into the tiger¡¯s face, one for each eye and ear and the final one went down its open, roaring, maw.


    There was nowhere near enough power behind the attack to do real damage, but that wasn¡¯t the point. No, it was just a distraction and irritation. A sucessful one.


    The sabre-tooth slammed its eyes shut and did a half-roar, half-choke thing as the projectiles hit the back of its throat, making it land badly and stumble instead of immediately savaging the ranged fighters it had landed amidst. Blind slashes of its claws still carved terrible wounds as it twisted and turned, striking out at anything it caught notice of using whatever sense of sight and hearing it had remaining.


    Blood flew, even a few fingers in one case, but it all seemed survivable. And then, Henderson was there, bodychecking the boss, them letting himself bellyflop onto it and transformed fully into an ankylosaurus.


    He hated doing that, he¡¯d loudly proclaimed as such several times, it simply made it too hard to move, but in this position, with the monster under him? It was a genius move.


    And then, the delvers unleashed everything they had while the massive sabre-tooth twisted and bucked, clawing apart not just the stone beneath but also digging huge chunks out of Henderson before suddenly shooting out from beneath him ¡­ and the slaughter began.


    Lightning caused it spazam mid-attack yet the monster was too close for Chain Lightning to be used, and sadly, that was the only widely-known spell of that element.


    By now, the boss had to be close to death but it would still survive long enough for people to start dying if things continued on like that.


    Nope, not happening.


    Internally calling himself every synonym for stupid and reckless under the sun, Wyatt lunged and drew on the full power of his newest Skill.


    No spells, no control, no limits. Just every ounce of mana he had transformed into pure, raw, elemental fury and launched it at the tiger. It began to branch out almost immediately, splitting into countless branches that threatened to strike his fellows, but the boss was right there, not even two meters away, and with a tremendous exertion of will, Wyatt bent all the lightning back to draw a bead on the initial target.


    There was a tremendous burst of noise, and a flash of light that left him seeing spots as he stumbled backwards, but the thump of a heavy body hitting the ground was obvious even over the sound of the lighting. And then, there was a much louder crash where Wyatt had no idea what was responsible. He just had to keep retreating, keep opening up the distance, and trust that the mosnter was either dead, or that he¡¯d bought the others enough of a chance.


    When he could finally see again, Wyatt immediately knew what had happened. Henderson had drunk the small vial of healing potion he¡¯d been equipped with as the tank and was, once again, restraining the tiger, though this time, he was in his hybrid form and properly grappling it.


    From there, it was a simple matter of just throwing everything and the kitchen sink for anyone who could while the others slowly retreated to allow the ones who could still fight a better shot.


    After barely thirty seconds, the boss vanished beneath Henderson, replaced by several claws and a properly cleaned pelt, causing the large man to faceplant as the thing he¡¯d been leaning on suddenly disappeared.


    Nothing hurt but his dignity, thankfully.


    As for the loot, well, it was basic and while the BPA didn¡¯t have the crafters to make proper use of it, the Worldstrider Tribe did. And eventually, after beating the boss a few more times, they might even get fully-made magical gear?


    Something like his own bracers, which he¡¯d been gifted by the Dungeon to him for giving it some stuff it wanted. They let him project and control linen wrappings, though he hadn¡¯t used them in the fight. The tiger had been too strong and too heavy to be overly bothered by them, making their use a waste fo mana.


    Wyatt sighed as he leaned against the wall and let himself slide down it. That had been stressful, but they¡¯d won. With zero fatalities, that had just been confirmed, but not without casualties. It was about as good as they could have expected, however, before the merge, this would have been called a disaster of epic proportions.


    Now ¡­ nowadays they picked fights like this without any reason save the pursuit of strength and loot. What a difference a couple of months made.


    This was their first proper, ¡°clean¡± win against the tiger. Director Abrams would probably be dissapointed to not have been there, but oh hey, she already fought the thing to a standstill, if her stories from her time training in here were true.


    Wyatt glanced over at where Frye was coordinating the medics and trap collection. He already got along with Abrams, his direct superior, but maybe he should talk to the big cheese too? Once the medics were done, at least?


    A few minutes passed, and by then, things had calmed down enough.


    ¡°Last week, I figured out there¡¯s a really easy trick if you want to improve your senses,¡± Wyatt told the director, then winced internally. That was what he¡¯d led with? Damnit!


    ¡°You boost your Mind Stat?¡± Frye asked, only seeming to pay partial attention as he watched everyone else¡¯s efforts.


    ¡°Without that,¡± Wyatt grinned, trying to put on a confident face. ¡°You know how deaf people¡¯s other senses are enhanced?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± Frye cautiously responded.


    ¡°Well, they actually aren¡¯t. They have the same sensory organs that everyone else does, it¡¯s just that their brains spend a lot more processing power to devote to their remaining senses since sight draws on the highest amount of brainpower. It¡¯s why food tastes better in those ¡®dine in the dark¡¯ restaurants. You can¡¯t see anything, so your brain focuses on the input from your sense of taste.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a Skill for that, isn¡¯t there?¡± Frye asked, clearly having realized what Wyatt was getting at.


    ¡°Yep,¡± he grinned. ¡°It¡¯s called Sensory Processing, and I think you can get it from focusing on any kind of sensory input that isn¡¯t your sight for a bit.¡±


    ¡°Okay, but that means that you¡¯re improving some of your senses at the cost of your others, right?¡± Frye asked.


    ¡°Well, I figured not being able to taste or smell is a good idea in this mess,¡± Wyatt shrugged, gesturing at the slowly dissolving gore that surrounded him.


    ¡°I can see that,¡± Frye nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    So that, they did.


    ***


    Frye


    Or at least, that had been the plan. But some eagle-eyed berk had realized he was in town, and he¡¯d wound up roped into a series of impromptu meetings, including what functionally amounted to a public forum that really just boiled down to ¡°bunch of people understandably don¡¯t feel safe and yell at whichever poor schmuck stood at the front of the room.¡±


    A wonderful waste of time.


    Frye sighed as he finally reached his office and let himself fall into his chair. What a shitshow.


    Not that he could get too upset about everyone¡¯s concerns.


    It was easy to blame the government for bureaucracy and even urgent problems only being responded to at a pace that even ¡°glacial¡± failed to adequately describe.


    Because it always took forever to get anything done, the processes and the checks and the balances and everything else had simply grown that complicated, the only reason the BPA had been created as quickly as it had was due to the fact that the United Kingdom¡¯s leadership had been almost entirely wiped out.


    And sometimes, attempting to gain any kind of information felt like screaming into the void, without even the most infinitesimal chance of knowing why the things you were attempting to get done weren¡¯t happening.


    Then, there were all the actions it took that, with just the teensiest bit of of hindsight, were quite obviously moronic. Brexit, for one. Offering a referendum, then actually listening to a non-binding decision by the people, then continuning to implement it even as many of the referndum¡¯s most ardent supporters started to, quite publically, regret its outcome ¡­


    Of course, there was another side to that, where actions and laws that looked ridiculous actually being strokes of genius, yet people were so used to governmental screwups that they rarely looked deeper.


    One such example was the American tax agency demanding taxes on criminal activity. It sounded idiotic, and like something no one would be stupid enough to do ¡­ except that was the entire point.


    It did not matter how well someone conceald their criminal activities, if they failed to disclose the income and law enforcement cared to look, all they had to do was prove that the criminal in question had money coming in.


    And so on, and so forth.


    Yet even decisive action came with its own issues, when the people in charge failed to consider potential consequences, swift action could have the exact opposite reaction, such as one of the British Empire¡¯s attempts to curb the danger of venomous snakes in India, an incident had backfired so badly that it had, in fact, named the principle of a government action achieving the exact opposite of its intended goal.


    The Cobra Effect.


    Simply put, the colonial government had been afraid of the snakes and it had put a bounty on the heads of cobras.


    So people had started breeding them to earn money.


    So the government had realized that and stopped the bounty.


    So the people had thrown the snakes out because they were no longer profitable.


    And as for how it had ended ¡­ well, there¡¯d been more snakes around after the bounty than before it.


    Frye sighed. Things were going well so far, but he knew that, as his agency grew, it would more and more resemble the rest of the government. Though right now, things were almost as slow, seeing as he was currently lacking both his left and right hands.


    He¡¯d sent Foster off to Bristol, the new capital of the UK, to prepare their offices there, and Abrams was currently visiting only other semi controlled zone in the South Pacific. Intelligent inhabitants that looked just like Manatees, and the Marine Expeditionary Unit that had run squarely into the zone as it manifested.


    Based on the reports that had reached him, there were monsters around, but the ones that reached the inhabitated outskirts were weak and swiftly deal with. That kind of equilibrium would be nice to achieve in London as well, and potential access to the local System was be invaluable ¡­ even if it left him, personally, in an absolute bind.


    His own workload had balooned to the point where he was barely handling it, and even then, he wasn¡¯t sure he could keep this up for more than a month at the very least, barring another disaster occurring locally ¡­ yeah, as though he¡¯d ever get that lucky.


    But that was the job he had, perhaps foolishly, chosen to take up, so he¡¯d do it until the day he dropped dead, be it from natural causes or something stress induced ¡­ the latter of which was growing ever more likely as the government healed itself.

 Book 2 Release!

    Book 2 of Museum Core will be released on Amazon tomorrow! (link below because I can''t embed a link in the chapter content)


    Audiobook isn''t ready quite yet, but will be released soon-ish.


    As for continuing the story, I''m not quite finished with the second book of Outrage of the Ancients, for some reason, it''s seriously kicking my ass, but once it''s finished, I''ll finally get back to writing Museum Core, I''ve got some real doozies planned. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    So anyway, if you were to head over to Amazon and leave a review, that would really help.


    I''m sorry there''s been such a long break with this story, but I will finish it. Soon-ish.