ã€ŠWeeaboo&#x27;s Unfortunate Isekai: The Necromancer&#x27;s Gachaã€‹


 Chap. 1- Thirst Trap = Death Trap!

    I shook my head in disgust at the tasteless sexualization of women in advertising. A bodaciously busty vampiric beauty, with a distinctive gold hairpiece and a dress that existed more in theory than practice, bit her lower lip as she looked up at me from my phone. There was more fire than smoke in those red eyes. Shameful. We, as a people, are better than this.

    Her luscious curves were somewhat lost behind the even more luscious curves of my finger as I hammered the download button. A guaranteed SSS rarity Champion in the first thirty pulls, ten thousand Soul Crystals, fifty Iridium Sheets and a whopping twenty five Songs of the Dwarven Mead Halls? Almost-but-not-quite nude vampire waifu? I would be crazy NOT to download now!

    Aww. Now the screen was all greasy. Like someone has smeared vaseline aaaaaalll over Vampirella.

    I wasn¡¯t exactly sure what kind of gacha game it was- idle game, tower defense, brawler, farming, but really, they were all the same in the end. I knew what I needed to know.

    The art was good. Very good. Like Frazetta met Anime and saw something he could work with. I was sold, so long as the Free-to-Play grind wasn¡¯t too bad. If it was just to punish you for not being a whale, I¡¯d quit.

    Never simp in life or games. That was the way of the King. Always more anime waifus out there.

    Charmed though I was by the beauty, my figurine collection runneth over with better. I would have to see her performance before deciding if she were truly worthy of enshrinement. And worship.

    Earbuds in, game loading, life was good on the subway. Then- tragedy!

    I messed up. Messed up bad. I failed my family, my country, myself. I failed God, and already I could feel his wrath descending on me.

    I hit ¡°accept¡± instead of asking the app not to track.

    Zuckerberg only knows what that was going to do to my internet traffic. Sorry, Mom and Dad. Your son is a degenerate. And now he will pay for his sticky tastes.

    I sighed and navigated to settings. Hopefully this was a fixable problem. Maybe I could dunk my phone in holy water or something after lunch.

    ¡°THANK GOD! Finally!¡± Someone yelled. I didn¡¯t see who grabbed my arm, but their fingers dug in like iron hooks. They yanked me up. Which meant they were really, REALLY strong. I saw a black hood, a hand with a glowing sigil.

    ¡°Wha?¡± The sigil blinded me, a wall of light and colors without names smashed into my mind!

    _______________________________________________________

    My head hurt. I slowly gave in to consciousness and opened my eyes. This was my second terrible mistake in less than an hour. Somehow things hurt worse, and made less sense.

    Wooden ceiling? No, wooden beams way up, holding up a stone ceiling. That must be terrible for acoustics and insulation. I bet this place is noisy and cold as Hell. I haven¡¯t even turned my head and I can safely conclude this place is one hundred percent garbage.

    I turned my head. There were¡­ bricks? No, stones, but, like, brick sized. Cobblestones? Could you have cobblestones indoors or was that strictly a street thing? No idea. Loads of brick-sized squared off rocks scattered all over the place. Gonna guess the floor was in bad shape. Or the walls. Or both. Should I risk sitting up?

    I didn¡¯t hear anything. I sat up. Yep. Room was trashed.

    ¡°Room¡± might have been understating things a bit. Castle hall? Church? It had Old Ruined Church vibes, maybe. Tall ceiling, like¡­ forty feet tall, or something. Big enough to hold a few hundred people. Bare gray stone walls, with patches of blue-green lichen adding color. Empty arches where windows should have been. Furniture? None. Doors? None. Explanations? None.

    I instinctively reached for my phone, and patted an empty pocket. Then patted again. The cloth felt wrong. I looked myself over.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been mugged. That¡­ cloak!¡± I needed better insults, but all I had seen of them was a big cloak and a glowing sigil. Not a whole lot to work with.

    My normal clothes- crocks, sweatpants, hilarious Walter White tribute Y-fronts, Pretty-Cure t-shirt (Spicy-Cure doing her classic pose on the front because she is best-girl,) and my sick fedora had all vanished. I was wearing some kind of horrible nerd stuff. Skin tight brown leggings and what I hope was a tan colored tunic and not a slip dress. I mean, COME ON! I¡¯m not a programmer!

    I would have my own fursuit if I was in IT. Who hasn¡¯t felt lust in their heart when looking at Crystal the Fox? I MEAN NOT ME, OBVIOUSLY. But, like, some hypothetical full stack developer named NOT ME.

    My new shoes were more like pointy slippers. Their being made of leather didn¡¯t make them less wretched. The soles had zero foam. I could feel the edges of the stone floor under my feet. Horrible. These must be awful for my arches. I have very sensitive arches, you see. I need my foam.

    As I stared down, I realized something. Something else was missing. Something shocking, something that had been part of me for as long as I could remember.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    I¡­ could see my feet. The gut was gone. The bountiful buttery rolls were torn away, leaving only saltine white skin stretched over some unsettling lumps.

    ¡°Is this¡­ are these¡­ abs?¡±

    I had abs. I had actual, visible abs. I slowly ran my hand over them, feeling them. Then my eye was pulled to my arm. There was muscle definition there too. The forearm has muscles. Incredible. I had never seen such a thing.

    There was some kind of sparkly thing at the front of the room. I ignored it. Watching the tendons rise out of the back of my hand as I flexed my suddenly strong fingers was WAY more interesting.

    Could¡­ Could I do a pushup? Me?

    I dropped into the pushup position. There was a chiming noise from the sparkle thing at the front of the room, but I knew what was important. With a mighty flex of my powerful back, I exploded upwards!

    ¡°ONE!¡± I cried, and the sky trembled in awe! Or it should have. My first ever push up. My god. Could I¡­ dared I to dream? Do a sit up?

    That chiming noise was getting seriously annoying now. It was super loud. And the light was flashing. Almost strobing. Really bright too.

    I looked around. There was a doorway behind me. I could do my sit-up in another room. I turned to walk away, when there was a big burst of green light.

    ¡°Congratulations! Thank you for volunteering to join the war against the Etronkin!¡±

    It was black robe guy. He sounded pissy for some reason, but I wasn¡¯t scared. Nothing good came of talking to a pervert, let alone a thief. This fella stole my underwear, making him the lowest sort of scum. I resolutely turned away. I would report him to the police. Justice would be done.

    ¡°Wait, wait! Don¡¯t go, this is actually really important!¡±

    ¡°You already mugged me. Why would I listen to you now?¡± I snorted. My hobbies may promote unsavory tendencies, but my day job? I knew how to deal with pricks- ignore them, and retaliate anonymously online. I swung a surprisingly muscular, yet comparatively slender, leg forward. Striding away. Manfully. Like a winner.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mug you, okay? I didn¡¯t. All your horrible sh¡­ stuff is safe in a box. A sealed box. In a sealed dimension. Didn''t know that smell could puncture through a six layered draconic ward, but. Here we are. All learning new things together.¡±

    ¡°That smell, peasant, is Mikawa Fujiwako, the GREATEST of the Spicy Cure cosplayers! She rolled around on top of that shirt after a workout when I donated five grand to her BestFans! I haven¡¯t let a drop of soap touch that shirt in seven years.¡±

    There was a pause.

    ¡°I am sure that the translocation spell fixed any mental damage. It¡­ shouldn¡¯t be a stroke or anything. Are you feeling any numbness? Do you smell toast?¡±

    ¡°I do not. Actually-¡± I was about to ask about snacks, but realized that, weirdly, I wasn¡¯t hungry. Zero desire to eat. Which had never stopped me before, but now I just didn¡¯t want to. Bizarre.

    ¡°Ok, I don¡¯t have long so I¡¯m just going to get straight into it. When you agreed to the the terms and conditions of Spires of Ancient Twilight-

    ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±

    The hooded figure flinched.

    ¡°What? No, you definitely did.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t.¡±

    The hooded figure yanked a scroll out of a long sleeve and started unrolling it fast. I could hear muttered swears under their breath. His breath? Sounded like a ¡°he¡± but all I was seeing was slender hands and an enormous black hood.

    ¡°What did the picture on the icon look like? Green skinned muscular orc woman?¡±

    ¡°Busty, near nude vampire chick. Hot as hell. Credit to the developers.¡± I gave him a solid thumbs up.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell Rosalia you liked her picture.¡± Black Robe sounded sick. ¡°So, you didn¡¯t download Spires of Ancient Twilight.¡±

    ¡°I did not.¡±

    ¡°You downloaded Dream of Eternal Sky, and never actually agreed to anything. Other than the tracking thing. Which means you aren¡¯t who I was expecting. Please tell me you are a SysAdmin with at least ten years of programming Xerpin and got a minor in architecture?¡±

    ¡°I am not. Also, Systems Administrators generally aren¡¯t programming things for ten years, especially not with two year old programming languages.¡±

    The hood recoiled, then drooped. ¡°A CS degree and an interest in traditional stoneworking?¡±

    ¡°I use AI to sell ¡°tips¡± to day traders and crypto bros. The AI generates a morning newsletter, which automatically gets mailed out by my web hosted mailing list manager. I literally don¡¯t touch any part of my business beyond spending the money. I live very comfortably, work less than an hour a week, and spend most of my money on my hobbies.¡±

    ¡°Ahah! You are an AI programmer!¡± The hood perked up, a manicured finger pointing triumphantly at me.

    ¡°If by ¡°programmer¡± you mean ¡®Use ChatGPT to scrape Bloomberg and put together a Cramer-worthy newsletter,¡¯ then yes. Except I actually paid a guy in Bangladesh to pull it all together for me. His name is Sayed. Good guy, very responsive. Five stars and a tip.¡±

    I had never seen a soul leave a body before. But here we are. All learning new things together.

    There was a long pause. I reached for my phone, slapped an empty pocket again and frowned. It was uncomfortable, just standing there and not looking at something. It was like an ache where the phone ought to be.

    ¡°So. My carefully planned meta-pick for this realm has gone PFFFT. Which is not ideal, definitionally.¡±

    I nodded along with him.

    ¡°Difficulty is definitely going to be raised overall. Some balance issues. Real¡­ sunk cost issue. But your lack of applicable skills may also give us some wriggle room with the starting difficulty.¡±

    He started rolling through the scroll at speed.

    ¡°Okay, okay. I¡¯m not completely screwed. Go a kind of- Yeah. Okay, that works. We will just take this whole thing as a learning opportunity and do better next time.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, next time?¡±

    ¡°After you die. I¡¯ll try to get what I can from your run, use that to optimize the next guy¡¯s run. You know, turn a loss into a minor win, then the minor win into that MEGA victory.¡± The black hood nodded decisively.

    ¡°Fall down once, get up twice. Keep that winning mindset on your grindset. Be a real sigma- oh man, look at your face. Are you still on the dying thing?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to die?!¡± I was outraged. Who was going to look after my Figurine Shrine? Hentai Mountain? Doujinshi Valley? The Hidden Forest of Relaxing Toys? They all required the sort of loving care only I could give them. I balled up my now mighty fist and strode towards the hood. I have never chosen violence before, but if Anime has taught me anything, it¡¯s that violence solves everything. Maybe we could even be friends afterward.

    ¡°What, you don¡¯t want to be trapped in an isolated tower with a functionally unlimited number of attentive beauties, expanding your tyrannical rule over the countryside as you grow ever more powerful?¡±

    I unclenched my hand and brushed down my definitely-a-tunic. ¡°I can hear you out.¡±

    ¡°This is a gacha game. Except you don¡¯t have any IRL currency, so you can only use the in-game currencies to pull for Awakened Souls, fix up the Tower, buy costumes, that kind of thing.¡±

    Sounded pretty standard.

    ¡°You grind by sending your Awakened Souls out to kill monsters. There is also a tower upgrade system, relationship progression, all kinds of limited time events, special Awakened Souls you can unlock through quests and achievements, and best of all, if you are very lucky and strategic, you can permanently power up yourself. I¡¯m talking ¡®smack the point off a mountain, then seduce it¡¯s mom with your sheer rizz¡¯ level power ups.¡±

    ¡°Sweet!¡± I clapped. ¡°And the catch?¡±

    ¡°You ain¡¯t getting out of here alive. I mean, hypothetically you can complete the end game content and roll out with all your permanent upgrades and your most relationship-progressed Awakened Soul, but¡­¡±

    I could somehow see the nasty grin in the inky void of the hood. ¡°You ever beat a gacha game?¡±

 Chap. 2- Rise My Loyal Blade

    The cloaked pervert waved his? hands quickly. ¡°I really don¡¯t have much time. Most of the tower stuff is pretty self explanatory. Explore and you will figure everything out. There are monsters outside. Don¡¯t worry about what they are called, their backstory, any of that.¡±

    ¡°I doesn¡¯t matter?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s vitally important! I¡¯m just in a rush. Key loop- send Awakened Spirits to kill monsters, get loot, upgrade, rinse and repeat. Best loot is Resonance Crystals. Get one hundred Resonance Crystals and you get one chance to summon a random Awakened Spirit at the Spirit Heart Pool.¡±

    ¡°You ChatGPT¡¯ed the names for all these, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°NO! The names are super cool, and my hot cousin¡¯s awesome OC. DO. NOT. COPY!¡±

    ¡°I pinky promise.¡±

    ¡°Good. You better.¡± The hood looked away, arms crossed. I waited. And waited.

    ¡°Not in that much of a rush, huh?¡±

    ¡°DAMN! Resonance crystals can get you up to a five star AS. Six stars is the highest rating! Six stars get the relationship system and highest intelligence. You want the six star AS, but every star rank can be useful if used well.¡±

    ¡°And how do I get them, if Resonance Crystals can¡¯t do it?¡±

    ¡°Events, quests, progression through the storyline and special in-game drops. You can also build sets to get them.¡±

    ¡°There is a set system?¡±

    ¡°Yes, no time to explain. You can craft gear or buy it from a merchant or get it through drops, you will figure it out.¡±

    ¡°How do I upgrade myself?¡±

    ¡°Relationship system. Crap, I¡¯m out of time. Look, here is a thousand Resonance Crystals and one Iridescent Clarion Stone, to even things out for you. Plus the usual starting package, don¡¯t say the Devs didn¡¯t look out for noobs.¡± Black Robe was racing now, trying to get all the words out as fast as he could.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let the monsters in, ¡®cause they will violate you horribly as they kill you. They do awful¡­ just¡­ awful things. I don¡¯t know what the hell Rosalia was thinking when she designed them. Bottom line is- do your best. Fight hard! Remember, while you may die horribly, your ruined, defiled, body will pave the way for the Hero!¡±

    I decided it was time to try violence again, but the swine vanished in a burst of green light. ¡°At least tell me your name, coward!¡±

    My voice echoed off the stone walls. There was no further reply.

    Well. Not ideal. Not how I thought this morning would go. I was headed uptown to a very discreet cafe, one with a members only invite system, for a very special lunch.

    Look, sometimes a man just wants a plate of omurice with a heart drawn on it in ketchup without any judgment from the uncultured, okay? It¡¯s not weird. Those maid costumes are tasteful, and everyone is very respectful.

    I looked around at the bare stone room. There was a pile of growing crystals on the floor where the hooded person had been hovering. Big suckers. Most of them were hexagonal, milky white and about as long as my hand. Maybe two inches across. The one fancy crystal, clearly the Iridescent Clarion Stone, was three times that size in every direction. It was humming. A faint, haunting tune.

    I picked one of the white ones up. Heavy sucker too. How was I going to carry all of ¡®em?

    As soon as I thought that, they transformed into a cloud of golden light and swirled up at me. They rushed me! The cloud smashed into my hip and, in a second flash of golden light, turned into a pouch. Small pouch, the size of my fist and weighed less than my headphones. The whole process was impressively painless. I touched the pouch and immediately knew it was filled with a thousand Resonance Crystals and one Iridescent Clarion Stone. Useful.

    Whelp. No need to question any of that. Or any of this. I have read enough Isekai to know how this goes, not to mention played enough gacha. Time to find a pond to chuck ¡®em into.

    Anything else in the room? I blinked. Tacked to the wall was a notice board, with a calendar, some fliers, and even a little pouch with scrolls sticking out of it.

    This¡­ was not there five minutes ago. I would demand to know what the actual expletive was going on here, but¡­ I knew. Gacha. Gacha was going on.

    I sighed. Then trotted over. Time to take a loot bath! Oh, but where to begin?

    I rubbed my hands. Then glared at my hands. They were rough. Not at all the pillowy, soft, lotion-soaked hands I had before. I tried not to feel crushed. More than ten years of development, lost. Back to chafing palms and misery. Curse that black robe!

    Deep breaths. Deep breaths. It¡¯s fine. There will be some magical nonsense to fix this. Maybe even in the free welcome gifts. Positive thinking. Positive thinking. I picked a scroll.

    Thank you for playing Dream of Eternal Sky! To celebrate our 523rd year, we are giving new players an exciting new feature- hats! Yes, what you all have been demanding- Hettie¡¯s Hat Shop is now available full time, and best of all, she WILL be taking Runed Bones for the Common hats. If you are brave enough to turn up looking for something crude, anyway. To celebrate, we are giving all new players their very own hat. Open the hatbox and see what¡¯s in store!

    Hats? Equipment for stat boosts, cosmetics, both? Fingers crossed- both. I mimed opening the hatbox on the scroll and nearly dropped the thing when the box slid open and an actual, real life, 3D hat popped out. It was a Robin Hood hat. Green, pointed, kind of triangular with a red feather sticking out. No stat boost that I could see. Damn. Next letter.

    In response to repeated messages from players, we are pinning this note-

    No, we will not be changing the balance. Yes, we are aware of the K/D ratio. Yes, it is higher than comparable games. We would remind you, however, that Dream of Eternal Sky is a skills based game. The game is carefully calibrated to be accessible while challenging, and without requiring PTW. We would remind you that abusing the Devs or community mods is grounds for instant defeat¡­

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Yikes. Never reassuring to hear the Devs say ¡°Git Gud.¡± Onward. I opened the rest of the letters, not bothering to read all the nonsense. As a result, I became the proud owner of five hundred and twenty Runed Bones, two hundred Fragments of Remembrance in a variety of colors, and a small stack of Tower Furniture Coupons, Millinery Orders and Made to Measure Receipts. All of which were for specified rooms or characters, and the shop was closed too.

    I checked the calendar.

    Log-In Bonus, Day 1: 10 Remembrance Crystals.

    Oh, nifty. I checked the rest of the calendar. Yep. First nine days were Remembrance Crystals with twenty on the last day, bringing the total up to 100. On the tenth day, you got a smiling girl with a giant ax and an iridescent, shimmering border around her picture. No idea what that meant, but I was sure it was good.

    I looked at the other sheets. Aha! Daily missions. Only today¡¯s missions were available, and they were pretty clearly tutorial type missions. Mission 1- summon your first Awakened Soul.

    Yeah. I could just about manage that. I took a look at the fliers and only just restrained myself from flipping out. Sales for in game resource packs. Requiring ¡°Frozen Diamond Star Shards.¡± I recognized a premium currency when I saw it. I resolutely spun on my heel and strode off. Anything else of note in this otherwise empty room? No. Just windows. Well, giant empty holes in the walls where windows should be.

    Plenty of ¡®windows,¡¯ though, some almost floor to ceiling. I looked outside, staying well back from the ledge. Forest. Deep forest, with huge trees. I could just about make out a shimmer of what looked like a river, maybe a lake, and there were mountains on the edge of the horizon. But everywhere around the tower seemed to be primeval forest.

    Looked pretty nice, actually. Monsters though. Did not trust the forest. Did¡­ hood guy say how long until horrible monster violation and death? The last item on the daily missions was to defend the Tower, so I should have some time. Shouldn¡¯t I?

    I spun towards the door. If I had abs and I could do a pushup, then by GOD I could jog. I leaned forward, lifted my leg and set off.

    It was effortless. I was moving like I never had before. Like a ghost. Like a cheetah! Easily three miles an hour. Maybe even four. I would have to test this further. No stairs up, so I guess this is the top of the tower. Spiral stairs headed down. I kept right on jogging.

    The next floor down was¡­ beautiful. I don¡¯t have the right words. Like the ruin of a church or a temple. The ceiling was higher than it ought to have been, two, three stories tall, with brilliant light shining through the frames where windows should have been. The stained glass replaced with patterns of light and shadow over the floor and pools under that vast arched ceiling.

    Most of the room was filled with a single long, rectangular pool. Dozens of feet long, maybe fifteen feet across, it ran most of the length of the room. The pool itself seemed to be white marble, the water shatteringly clear, and yet, you couldn¡¯t see the bottom of it. I walked along the edge of it, admiring the way the water bounced the daylight around the room. Making the gray stones seem to dance and flicker with life.

    The second, smaller, pool was at the very back of the hall. It was tucked into its own little alcove, the back of it touching the far wall of the room. About six feet in diameter, also marble but with faint gold veins running through it. A high window was above it, looking out over the forest, and up at the blue sky. Faint wisps of white mist rose off it. It felt holy.

    Not a word I use much. Not seriously. But this felt holy. This world, this place, was supposed to be some cursed gacha game, but it felt¡­ real. The pool was the realist thing I had ever felt, in either world. Like I was in the presence of something much greater than myself. Ancient, mysterious, and wonderful.

    I could imagine splashing around and having fun in the rectangular pool. I would feel wrong touching this one.

    I touched the pouch and summoned a regular resonance crystal. It popped into my hand. Smooth, with sharp angles and painfully pointy edges. I tossed it at the round pool. A glowing wall of swirling starlight bounced it right back at me. Not permitted. My reflexes were now good enough to snag the flying crystal out of the air.

    I might change my mind later, but Robe Guy was currently getting a pass in my book. This new body was pretty great.

    Well. I could more or less guess how this went. Some gacha games had special recruitment screens for higher level draws. I looked back at the long pool. You could fit a lot of people in that. Probably not more than one at a time in the smaller pool.

    Save the best for last? Let¡¯s not pretend I could ever have passed the marshmallow test. I dug the Iridescent Clarion Crystal out of the sack and offered it to the pool.

    The sunlight through the window caught the rippling colors trapped inside the thick crystal rod. Like the shimmer of mother-of-pearl. The holy music coming from the crystal seemed to be drawn to the curved alcove and amplified. The crystal was lifted by some magic of the pool and drawn over the water. It slowly spun in a sunbeam, picking up speed until it burst into a shattered rainbow of light.

    There was a moment, like the world was holding its breath. With an ecstatic release- she was born.

    Ethereal choirs sang as the sunlight picked out the gold of her hair. It cascaded down over the polished silver of her armor, a knight, with a longsword in one hand and a shield in the other. Six purple stars drifted down and circled her head like a halo. She walked across the water, steel shod foot silent as she stepped on the marble. With a grace I could hardly imagine, she took a knee and lay her sword and shield in front of her.

    ¡°In this life, and every life, I, Versai, shall serve the Tower Master. May the Heavens witness my oath!¡±

    There was a golden chime in the air. I felt something change. I was no longer just¡­ me. There was me, and Versai. There would be others, I knew. But whoever I was before died when she was born. I could feel my thoughts wrenched around. A new priority. A new identity weaseling its way in, next to who I was. Not replacing it, adding to it.

    I was the Tower Master. And this beauty, this warrior spirit, was the first Awakened Soul under my command.

    A¡­ very real girl. Woman, actually. Strong, capable woman. Competent. And so staggeringly, shockingly beautiful, she was hard to look straight at. And I was now attached to her. Forever, apparently.

    I¡­ am¡­ not really okay with this. This is not good. When I say I¡¯m 2-D for life, I¡¯m not playing. I could feel my skin start to crawl.

    There was a moment, a sense of gathering energy and awareness. Then awkwardness.

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Sorry! I¡¯m new to this. Please, stand up.¡± I flapped a bit. Damn! My first words were an apology. Very not alpha. Very beta behavior. Weak. I had already made myself the submissive, when I was supposed to be the Tower Master. Self loathing twisted my guts.

    She pretended not to notice.

    Versai stood up, belted on her sword and slung her shield behind her. It turned into a flowing red cape. Apparently attached by magic. Because sure, why not. It looked killer on her. But she would have looked killer in a cardboard box. Ideally one with a plastic cover, on a shelf.

    The armor was not cut to flatter. Excessively, brutally practical. It might as well have been a man¡¯s armor, without the faintest hint of boob plate. No ornamentation at all, beyond the red cape. No points for guessing it would get more elaborate with time.

    I would make a crack about being robbed, but¡­ she made it hard to breathe.

    Blond, blue eyed, skin so white it was almost translucent. She had a pointy but not too long nose- I¡¯ll stop. Any list of Versai¡¯s parts would be worthless. Her eyes weren¡¯t almond shaped. Almonds are the shape of Versai¡¯s eyes. She was the measure other things were compared to.

    Only the very best of the 2D girls I adored were on her level. Only the very, very best. And she had the immense handicap of being 3-D and worst of all, IRL.

    ¡°I¡¯m your first Awakened Soul?¡± She smiled.

    My heart must have been upgraded along with everything else, as it didn¡¯t explode on the spot. It shouldn¡¯t be legal to be that pretty. Oh God! A smile that would have a dentist weeping for joy, and their accountant snapping their calculator in rage.

    When I regained the ability to form coherent thoughts, I nodded. ¡°Yes. My name is-¡± I glitched. I don¡¯t have a better word for it. I glitched.

    I couldn¡¯t remember my name. I felt panic trying to pour in. I was missing my name. My name. I had a name. A life in another world. I could remember my life in the other world. I could-

    ¡°Liam.¡± I smiled. Wow, that was weird huh? How could I possibly have forgotten that my name was Liam, and always had been? ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Versai.¡±

    She nodded, her face becoming serious. ¡°Tower Master, the situation is dire. The tower is entirely without defenses, we have no equipment, you have neither weapons or magic at your disposal, and I, alone cannot stop the endless hordes of monsters. We need more help, more awakened souls. By any chance do you have more Resonance Crystals?¡±

    I smiled. Now I can flex a little, recover some of that Alpha energy. ¡°I do. A full thousand of them.¡± Well, and a bit. Not enough for another summons.

    ¡°Great! To use them, throw them in the Spirit Heart Pool and you can get the dollies to work.¡± She nodded decisively.

    I did, but as I did so, my ear snagged on a word.

    ¡°Sorry, did you say ¡®dollies?¡¯¡±

    ¡°Five stars and under get progressively dumber and more obviously artificial. It helps if you don¡¯t think of them as people.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡±

    ¡°Oh, you get used to it.¡± She waved an exquisite hand dismissively. The long pool was lighting up with a gentle white glow, blinding mist rising up out of it. Holy music again, but significantly less impressive than Versai¡¯s summoning. ¡°But hey, it¡¯s nice that you have an extra. Most of the other Tower Masters only got nine.¡±

    ¡°Err¡­ how long did they last?¡±

    ¡°The record is three waves.¡± She smiled at me ¡°warmly.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you will beat that record. You have the skills to make the kills, right?¡±

 Chap. 3- They Arenâ€™t Dolls, They Are Poseable Figurines and itâ€™s Not Weird to Collect Them!

    The long pool went misty, as a muted, but somewhat upbeat, celestial choir sang. A sad step down from when I pulled Versai. Still, it looked nice. Always something special about the first pull in a game. Watching that animation as you wait to see what the slot machine was serving up.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited.¡± Versai looked cooly into the mists. ¡°One Stars seem to count for more than half of the total possible summons. I haven¡¯t worked out the rates for others, but¡­ sharply less. Don¡¯t be surprised if they are all One Stars.¡±

    Well. That¡¯s not ideal. Usually games have to post their pull rates for different rarities. Or they do in the U.S. anyway. Maybe there was a tablet etched on a wall somewhere? And, wait a sec, the One Stars are the most common? What kind of moron thought that made sense?

    Terrifying thought- what if the developers were Korean wizards? I¡¯d be screwed! Please no PVP. Please no PVP. Please no PVP¡­

    ¡°Best I would hope for is a decent mix of types and alignments. Maybe, just maybe, a set. Though a One Star set is pretty- oh here they are.¡±

    ¡°Mika¡¯s here! You have nothing to fear!¡±

    ¡°Mika¡¯s here! You have nothing to fear!¡±

    ¡°Mika¡¯s here! You have nothing to fear!¡±

    ¡°Mika¡¯s here! You have nothing to fear!¡±

    ¡°Mika¡¯s here! You have nothing to fear!¡±

    I took a moment to think through which swear would be most piquant. There was apparently no dupe system. And what were the odds of drawing five of the exact same character at once?

    Mika was an awkward-looking, though beautiful, young lady carrying a shield nearly as tall as she was, as well as a crossbow. White jacket with useless straps and dangly bits, soft white turtleneck underneath and a short skirt over thigh high boots.

    I could only give the art director a thumbs up. They got it. The look of slightly helpless determination, the contrast between the smart-casual clothes and the giant shield- Moe. It was Moe. I had seen better, but this was good. Healing, even, after Versai.

    ¡°Just another rodeo. Rache is ready to ride.¡± This from a rather rangy looking young lady who seemed to have been dressed by someone who had heard of both cowboys and motorcycle gangs, but had seen neither and got them confused.

    A saber hung at Rache¡¯s hip. There were leather, fingerless gloves on her hands, and a cowboy hat perched on her head. Tasseled leather jacket and pants too, but¡­ not really sure what the designer was thinking there. Less Moe. Someone would be into that look, but it wasn¡¯t for me.

    ¡°HEEEY! So, I¡¯m, like, Becky!¡± Becky opted for combat wedge sandals, combat black tights, a combat powder pink mini-skirt with a matching cashmere crop top sweater, amply displaying her toned tummy and other¡­ assets. Which were generous. More stacked than a deli sandwich, in fact.

    The bubblegum pink hair matched, perfectly, the bubbles of gum she was blowing every thirty seconds. There was an eye catching charm in the shape of tumbling blue roses hanging from the waist of her skin tight skirt. She had no visible weapons or armor.

    I have read this hentai. And liked it.

    That being said, she must be a wizard because she looked like she had zero combat potential otherwise.

    ¡°Oh no! Where¡¯s the ouchie?¡±

    Wait, really? I didn¡¯t even need to look to know what I was about to see. I looked. Yup. Called it.

    From the white beret to black mary janes to the knee high white socks under a knee length white pinny parody nurse uniform, it was the ¡°medic.¡± Better still, the Clumsy Medic, with a big square bandage stuck over one eye. This? This was a top notch Moe-blob. Ten out of ten. I hated it.

    ¡°I am not okay with this.¡± I gave Versai a hard look. She arched a perfectly formed eyebrow and shrugged.

    ¡°Do something about it, then. I have yet to meet a Tower Master who was happy about drawing a One Star, and yes, Pammy is high on their do-not-want list. So far, nobody has been able to keep her from getting pulled.

    ¡°She¡¯s twelve!¡± Even a bone deep degenerate has a line. I don¡¯t do loli. I really, REALLY, don¡¯t do death-game loli.

    ¡°¡®She,¡¯¡± Versai¡¯s elegant fingers made aesthetic quote marks in the air, ¡°Is only a minute old. ¡®She¡¯ is not even a ¡®she,¡¯ or any gender. Watch.¡± She looked over at the worried looking grade schooler. ¡°Pammy, please take off your hat.¡±

    The medic blinked a couple of times, then slowly grabbed her beret. She yanked on it a few times. It didn¡¯t budge. She looked back at Versai, eyes watering. ¡°It¡¯s stuuuuuuuuck!¡±

    Versai shook her head. ¡°They are all like that. Like I said, Tower Master, it¡¯s a mistake to think of them as people. Her clothes are literally part of her- you can eyeball damage by seeing how shredded their clothes are. Golems dressed up to look like girls and given human mannerisms is more like it.¡±

    Deep breath. Until you can fix it, endure it. Remember when they ran out of limited edition Beach Adventure Rei figurines with the removable bikini? You endured then, and you can endure now.

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    It¡­ actually kind of helped me accept the whole situation. They weren¡¯t real people. They weren¡¯t really 3-D. They were poseable figurines and talking robots. 2-D souls shoved into 3-D shells. Alright. That¡¯s familiar. I know how to exist in that space.

    Yeah. I could feel the stress reducing, falling off my shoulders. You don¡¯t have to worry about what they are thinking, how they feel, any of that. Just¡­ figurines. Dollies. And I like to play with doll¡­ POSEABLE FIGURINES.

    I looked over at the last two. ¡°I¡¯ll get the job done!¡±

    They were a brown haired lady in overalls, a knockoff Carhartt t-shirt and a yellow hardhat. Approximate age, forty. Normally I would hate it. Zero Kawaii factor, not even MILF-y. After Pammy, she was like a breath of reassuringly stale air.

    They were wearing off-brand Timbs with a safety toe. Full, sensible, toolbelt loaded with gear. She had eye protection and work gloves. A consummate professional of the building trades.

    ¡°And what¡¯s your name?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Judith. If it needs tearing down or putting up, leave it to us.¡± They tilted their heads back and laughed with synchronized good humor. I squinted. She seemed more¡­ lively than the others.

    ¡°Say, Tower Master, do you win a lot of money at cards?¡± Versai asked.

    ¡°Funny you should ask, I did fund my business initially through winning online poker tournaments. Why?¡±

    ¡°Because out of ten summons, you pulled two Two-Stars and one of the best One-Stars. Other than Becky, the rest of them are ok for what they are. With this, we can pretty much dominate the first wave, and the second wave is going to be reasonably survivable.¡±

    ¡°And the third wave?¡±

    ¡°Let''s¡­ just focus on the positive, shall we?¡± Her smile was both healing, and yet, somehow, damaging.

    ¡°Alright, can you tell me how to use the troops here?¡±

    ¡°No, that is your job.¡±

    There was a pause.

    ¡°Could you¡­ explain what each of these¡­ golems¡­. do?¡±

    ¡°Certainly, Tower Master. Starting with Mika- do you know what Pavise Crossbowmen are?¡±

    I shook my head. Bye bye, faint shred of alpha energy. But this was life and death. I would make it up later. Versai pointed, her perfectly trimmed and polished nail caught in a sunbeam made just to glint upon its perfection.

    ¡°What you are seeing, basically. There is a spike that pops out of her shield when she slams the bottom into the ground, instantly turning her into a crossbow firing strong point. She is almost completely covered from the front. The trade-off is that her mobility is nil. You have to pick your spot to use her, because if you want her to reposition, it takes a while.¡±

    Hmm. Very¡­ Arknights.

    ¡°Got it. Can¡¯t people aim for her head, or arc their shots over her shield or something? Come around the side?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s never come up so far. The monsters just rush up, reach around or over the shield, and shred her. Or get her from the side. Or, if the Tower Master is particularly incompetent, take her from behind.¡±

    ¡°Seems like armor and a good helmet are needed,¡± I said, not wanting to touch any part of that setup. Sometimes, you just know you will dunk on yourself.

    Versai nodded. ¡°You can craft or loot them, if you are lucky. Not that I have ever seen armor crafted, but the Tower Masters keep saying it¡¯s possible. The monsters seem to be carrying the necessary materials. Still, she¡¯s a very common summons as you can see, so it doesn¡¯t make too much sense to invest a lot in any particular Mika.¡±

    Yep. Gotta zero out the ¡®ole emotional investment. That¡¯s what moe does to you, definitionally. Makes you give a damn. Can¡¯t have that. Not in a gacha game.

    ¡°And Rider Rache there?¡±

    ¡°Funny you should call her that- she is a scout, and to my way of thinking, one of the best One Star scouts. Which is a bit like saying one of the smartest mushrooms. Still. Lucky. Put her out in the forest¡­ we are in a forest, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Good. A couple of times I was summoned to different settings, which were not improvements. Anyway, she summons a ghost horse that turns into a ghost motorcycle that races through the trees, letting her find enemies, rare materials, treasures, that kind of thing. She is horrible in a head-on fight, but she can make good flanking attacks. You know. ¡°Good¡± for a One Star.¡±

    ¡°Excellent! Wait, she rides a motorcycle through that dense, underbrush filled, forest? And can scout that way?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Magic ghost motorcycle. Obviously.¡± She gave me a look. It was hurtful. I pressed on.

    ¡°I can see why you like her. Becky?¡±

    ¡°Trash summons, you got screwed.¡±

    ¡°Can you¡­ elaborate on that a bit?¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t do anything. At all. She can¡¯t fight. Can¡¯t craft. Can¡¯t do magic, or heal, no control abilities, can¡¯t even make quality of life improvements like cooking or art or music.¡±

    Versai took a breath, then gave me a frank look.

    ¡°I had one Tower Master who thought her purpose was more carnal in nature. The results were, apparently, disappointing. ¡°I¡¯d have been better off with a log,¡± were his last words. Before I threw him out the window, into the monster horde below. Where he had what could be described as a fulfilling carnal experience.¡±

    Message received! Jesus! Guess Versai was more protective of the ¡°they¡¯re not really people¡± lower-stars than she let on. No prohibition on regicide, too. That¡¯s a key bit of information. All of a sudden that relationship system is sounding REALLY important.

    ¡°You have a nuanced take on your oath of service?¡± I asked, trying to keep it light and apparently failing.

    ¡°On the contrary, I am very strict about it. Which is why I take it very personally when the oath is broken by a Tower Master. Very. Personally. And since I cannot be bound by a broken oath-¡±

    ¡°Got it. Lets press right on, shall we?¡± I gave her my best smile and waved at Pammy. Not wanting to dwell on the fact that I had made no oaths. ¡°I¡¯m guessing she¡¯s the healer?¡±

    ¡°Correct. Early on, she can heal a One Star on the verge of death to about half health per skill activation. It gets progressively less effective the more total health a summons has.¡±

    ¡°Ah. I can see why she¡¯s unpopular.¡± Pammy¡¯s eyes watered at that, and her lower lip wobbled terribly. Well that¡¯s a familiar reaction. Ah, what am I supposed to say now? It was something like¡­ ¡°Oh, no, I¡¯m sorry sweety, I¡¯m sure you do your best!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother.¡± Versai¡¯s voice was bone dry. ¡°She does that every five minutes.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± I kept an eye on Pammy. After a few seconds she calmed down and returned to fidgeting nervously.

    ¡°Ah. Creepy. I see what you mean about not humanizing them.¡± It was actually kind of unpleasant. We were getting into the uncanny valley here.

    ¡°Only leads to misery.¡± There was something in her voice. Not the time though. I had a feeling it was gated behind the relationship system.

    ¡°And Judith?¡±

    ¡°Your absolute biggest piece of luck. She¡¯s a ¡°worker¡± type, as opposed to a ranged type, or a healing type. Or a whatever type.¡±

    I nodded. Straight forward enough.

    ¡°Very basic harvesting and construction jobs can be done by any Summons, Awakened Spirit, Dolly, whatever you want to call them. Workers do the jobs much, MUCH faster, and much, much better. Anything even slightly more advanced than the absolute basics, like ¡°pick up those rocks and stack them over there¡± basics, and non-workers struggle. ¡°Cut down this tree and don¡¯t kill yourself or anyone else,¡± would be ambitious. Expect it to take thirty minutes for a normal tree.¡±

    ¡°Yikes. And Judith?¡±

    ¡°Will have it down and cut into usable logs in less than two. With the right tools, she can knock out planks of ordinary wood faster than the trees can be brought to her. Now, she¡¯s really focused on framing, rough carpentry and demolitions, so you wouldn¡¯t send her to harvest rare materials, do mining, or make more than really basic defenses. But still. For your first draw? She¡¯s a huge win. Two of her is just¡­¡± Versai shook her head with a happy sigh.

    ¡°So, Judith, could you fix the doors here?¡±

    ¡°Sure, no problem!¡± The one on the left boomed.

    ¡°Easy as pie.¡± The one on the right agreed.

    ¡°Just need a saw mill for the planks, trees for the wood, iron nails, and scrap metal to shape into the door fittings.¡± The one on the left concluded.

    Versai was giving me a very patient look. I pretended not to notice.

    ¡°Well, how about wooden barricades?¡±

    ¡°Logs.¡± They said in chorus.

    ¡°Well. Let¡¯s go get us some logs! And. You know. I have a feeling we will get us some monsters too.¡±

 Chap. 4- No Job For A Man

    ¡°Versai, any idea when I should expect the first monster wave?¡± I lead my tiny army back towards the stairs. There was a whole rest of the tower to explore, and then trees to harvest, defenses to make, and maybe some wandering monsters to pick off. Ooh! Rache might even discover something special in the woods. That would be awesome.

    ¡°Nightfall.¡± She sounded certain.

    ¡°Ah. Any idea how long that will be?¡±

    ¡°You still have your full actions, right?¡±

    My what? Oh please don¡¯t tell me¡­

    ¡°I can only take so many actions a day?¡±

    ¡°You can order your Awakened Souls to perform up to five actions a day outside the tower. You, yourself, can¡¯t travel beyond the Tower¡¯s zone of control, which at the moment is about¡­ ten paces? Maybe less?¡±

    I can see that becoming a pain in the neck fast.

    ¡°The zone of control can be expanded?¡±

    ¡°Yes, as you make improvements, clear the forest, defeat waves, that sort of thing. I think the best I saw was-¡± She rested a perfect finger on the most kissable, biteable lips that ever graced the face of a valkyrie and that made me frankly uncomfortable. ¡°Pretty sure he got fifteen paces. So it¡¯s doable.¡±

    ¡°Super. And can summons go past the zone of control?¡±

    ¡°Naturally. Up to twenty times, unless they have a relevant ability or you have issued qualifying orders. For example, I think Rache¡¯s scouting range is one thousand times or something crazy like that, but we would have to check.¡±

    ¡°Oh, can we check stats? How?¡±

    ¡°Right through there is the Hall of Records.¡± She pointed at a door. We had only gone down one floor. Convenient. I tried to open it. Locked.

    ¡°It occurs to me that this is the first door I have seen in the tower.¡± I said, smelling a black robed shaped rat, or his designer cousin Rosalia.

    ¡°Yes, floors you haven¡¯t unlocked yet are locked. You get the Hall of Records after wave three.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said the record was three waves?¡±

    Versai looked sad. ¡°Yes, I had such hopes for him. The fourth wave had barely started before our defenses were overrun. I died before he did, of course, but I have to imagine his death was awful. It always is. The monsters seem to want to make it as upsetting to watch as it is to experience.¡±

    ¡°Fantastic. What¡¯s unlocked before the first battle?¡±

    ¡°The Spirit Heart Pool, and the Throne Room.¡±

    ¡°That completely empty huge room at the top of the tower?¡±

    ¡°I believe you will eventually be able to fill it with things, though I admit I have never seen it happen.¡± She shrugged an armored shoulder.

    Well this got better and better.

    ¡°Can Awakened Souls use their abilities in the Tower?¡±

    ¡°If they can, it must be locked behind some door or power I have never seen. In fact, while you can give some orders to some of the dolls here, most will just be ignored.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± I looked down at the rangy Rache, who had zipped ahead of the group. ¡°Hey Rache. Can you go up to the throne room and look out the windows, do some scouting that way?¡±

    ¡°This cowgirl needs to ride! Mo-TOR Cit-TAy!¡±

    ¡°Guess that¡¯s a no.¡±

    ¡°Good thinking, though.¡± Versai was clearly making an effort to be positive. ¡°Unfortunately, the Mika¡¯s can¡¯t shoot from inside the Tower either.¡±

    And there went overwatch capabilities.

    ¡°Stick her up on the roof?¡±

    ¡°No access to the roof, and no one had the time or resources to try and make a ladder or something to get her up there. Possible in theory, I guess, but I¡¯d bet not in practice.¡±

    Good to see that other people were thinking too. Bad to see that I was thinking of the same things that the guys who died by wave four all thought of.

    ¡°Alright, not ideal. How many entrances does the Tower have?¡±

    ¡°Two.

    ¡°Even less ideal. We have to split our forces?¡± I hated tower defense games where you had to defend multiple points.

    ¡°No, or at least, not yet. The back entrance is sealed up.¡±

    Small mercy. ¡°So just to confirm, the monsters want to get in and kill me.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± She nodded her perfectly formed head.

    ¡°And I cannot run, because I am trapped in the immediate vicinity of the Tower.¡±

    ¡°Correct.¡±

    ¡°Nor can I fight, because I am unarmed.¡±

    ¡°Well, that and it just doesn''t seem to work. Every time I saw one of the other Tower Masters try to pick up a weapon, it just flew out of their grasp. Even punches and kicks seemed to do nothing.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t run. Can¡¯t fight, Can¡¯t even hide. All I can do is rely on my Awakened Souls to do the fighting. Prior to that, I have five actions that I may order which will determine the survivability of the wave.¡± I said, Chadly, determined not to sound like I was about to piss myself in terror.

    ¡°You have it right, Tower Master.¡±

    ¡°Do they need anything to survive? Do you? Is there some absolutely vital resource we need to survive every day?¡±

    ¡°Err¡­ strictly speaking no, but if you aren¡¯t harvesting resources every day, you are going to be in a lot of trouble, very fast.¡±

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    I nodded. We kept walking down the tower, passing locked door after locked door. It was both depressing and monotonous. There was an empty lobby area at the foot of the stairs. A wide archway stood in the middle of a wall. Very wide. I paced it out. I never measured my pace but¡­ ah. Wrong unit of measurement.

    ¡°Mikas, without leaving the Tower, line up shoulder to shoulder, starting here.¡± I put my hand in line with the door frame, a few feet inside. Just in case.

    ¡±I¡¯ll stop them!¡± came back, repeated five times. The door was roughly three and a half Mika¡¯s across. With their shields deployed¡­ three Mikas or four? I guess it depended on how the shields were meant to be used. They¡­ probably didn¡¯t need to be overlapping. But a seamless wall would be better protection, right? Would they get in each other¡¯s way?

    ¡°Is there a minimum spacing needed between summons when I position them outside the tower? Beyond the practical, I mean.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± She gave me a curious look. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I was thinking of deploying the Mika¡¯s in an arch across the door, forming a shield wall. You could stab over the top of them with your sword, and Rache could race around the perimeter making flanking strikes. Pammy hangs out just inside the tower, only zipping out to heal, then ducking back in. The rest of us just¡­ hang out, I guess. Shout encouragement.¡±

    She gave me a different look this time. A new one. Approval. I wasn¡¯t sure how to deal with that. It wasn¡¯t an emotion I got exposed to much, IRL.

    ¡°That is a very good first plan. Two small problems, but manageable ones. First is that any Awakened Souls that are outside at night have to stay outside until the wave is over. So Pammy is in or out, no back and forth. Second is that the Mika¡¯s have a limited rate of fire. They are only One Star after all, and will quickly get overwhelmed by numbers. This plan will work up to a point, but at the end of it, I might be the only one left outside.¡±

    I thought about that for a while. I had¡­ just a stupid amount of mobile games experience. And JRPG¡¯s on consoles. Some PC Gaming. Even some RTS and grand strategy games under my belt. That being said, I think the biggest help was going to be all those Reddit arguments. So many discussions of what the meta is. So many meta discussions about finding the meta.

    Lots and lots of discussions about reused ideas in video games. And this was fundamentally a tower defense game.

    I looked over at my summons. I had some basic dart monkeys, a sword monkey, and some utility type monkeys. And a healing monkey, though I don¡¯t think that¡¯s exactly a thing in Bloons TD 6. So, if I was playing that game, with this line up, what would we most urgently need to do?

    Ah. ¡°We need to slow them down. And we don¡¯t have iron nails, or ropes or anything. We just have two Judiths, their hand tools and the labor we can get from the other summons.¡±

    ¡°Correct.¡±

    ¡°Can the monsters smash through trees?¡±

    ¡°Eventually?¡±

    I smiled. I might not be an expert war gamer or anything, but this one I knew how to manage. I inhaled, ready to give my first orders.

    ¡°Order number one- Rache is to deploy and scout the area around the Tower. Report back any items of interest. Be back before nightfall.¡± Commanding. SUMMON THE GIGA CHAD!

    ¡°Gonna ride the highway to Hell!¡± Rache pumped her fist.

    ¡°Come back alive instead.¡± Because I can¡¯t replace you in the short term. ¡°Order number two- The Judiths will cut down trees. Start with the ones closest to the door to the tower and work out in a fan shape. Don¡¯t bother processing them into logs or anything. Just cut down the trees.¡±

    ¡°Can do!¡± They chorused.

    I smiled and rubbed my hands. ¡°Think I can save an order by hauling things myself?¡± I asked Versai.

    ¡°No. It¡¯s been tried. Also remember you can¡¯t get more than ten paces from the Tower.¡±

    Blast. Well. Fine. We do this the easy way.

    ¡°Order three. Anyone who isn¡¯t Rache or the Judiths drag the trees that are cut down in front of the tower. Branches pointed straight away from the tower.¡± I pointed. I remembered this from a thread where people were complaining about things that were inexplicably left out of video games. Time to steal, steal, steal.

    ¡°Um. like. You are the boss of me, but like, you can¡¯t just BOSS me, you know? I have, like super major problems or whatever? Like, you are my boss but it¡¯s not my job?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to pretend I didn¡¯t hear Becky.¡± I muttered. ¡°Does this count as mutiny? Can I send her to the great Spirit Heart Pool in the sky?¡± Versai nodded understandingly.

    ¡°Completely useless, I know. I can¡¯t let you kill her, but I do understand the urge.¡±

    ¡°Such fun.¡±

    Rache summoned a translucent blue horse. There was a ghostly whinny, then the thoroughbred turned into what to my admittedly untrained eye looked like a rather handsome American motorcycle. Not a Harley, but I¡¯m not a bike guy. Still. Liked it. She zipped off, somehow not smashing dead against the huge trees in the forest.

    ¡°These are the ¡°normal¡± trees?¡±

    ¡°Well. Maybe a little on the small side.¡± She smiled, and for some reason, I felt a stabbing pain in my liver. ¡°No, not small. Just normal. Fine size. A good size. If they were too big, it would be a pain, you know?¡±

    I gave her a look. She had a completely straight face.

    ¡°Hmmm.¡±

    The Judiths tore into the trees like they were angry at them. The little hatchet on their tool belt expanded into a full sized felling ax when in hand, and the trees barely lasted a few blows before they were down.

    ¡°That¡¯s not¡­ the ax head isn¡¯t that big. How are they doing that so fast?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s part of their skill.¡± Versai shrugged. Which was as good a way of saying ¡°magic¡± as any, I supposed.

    Once the trees were down, I directed where they were to be put. Basically, just dragged in front of the Tower with the base towards the tower and the pointy end facing the woods. They were stacked roughly, branches intertwined and pinning each other in place. I did, however, make sure a very narrow gap was left in the middle, about a half Mika across. I figured, once they smashed through the branches it would widen to about two Mikas.

    It took a bit of doing, but we quickly had a wide clearing in front of the tower that was almost totally impassible.

    ¡°Tower Master, we can¡¯t stack them any higher. Do you want us to just keep widening the barrier?¡± Versai asked.

    ¡°No, order number four. Start stripping the trees of branches where they fall. Stick the loose branches in the narrow gap between the barricades. The tree trunks can stay where they are for now.¡±

    Hope Rache can navigate through all that okay.

    It seemed she could, because she drove straight over them without so much as bending a twig.

    ¡°Sweet Minithra, how did you manage that!?¡±

    ¡°Aww, this filly has light feet.¡± She patted her ghostly motorcycle. ¡°Here¡¯s what I found!¡± She handed me a rolled up scroll. I grabbed it¡­ and it vanished in a flash of light.

    ¡°Versai? Why did the scroll just vanish?¡±

    ¡°Your map just updated. You don¡¯t unlock the map room until after Wave One,¡± She yelled from across the clearing.

    Fantastic. ¡°Alright Rache, head on in and rest up. We will need you out there tonight.¡±

    ¡°Always ready for a ride.¡± She strode in, the tassels on her leather leggings and jacket swaying as she went.

    One last order¡­ hmm.

    ¡°Versai, am I missing anything?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Probably. Nobody knows everything, right?¡±

    Was this a relationship locked thing? Was the game limiting her as much as it limited me?

    ¡°If you were Tower Master-¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°What did-¡±

    ¡°Not that either.¡±

    ¡°You really can¡¯t tell me anything?¡±

    ¡°Not in the way you want. Not beyond what I have already said. Believe me, I don¡¯t like getting brutally murdered either. Actually, I somewhat envy you Tower Masters. You can only experience¡­ that¡­ once. I have to go through it again and again and again.¡± There was a hard, ugly look in her eyes.

    A cold thrill ran through me. I had been isekai¡¯ed. But Versai was a looper. That couldn¡¯t be good for her mind.

    ¡°Order Number Five. Sharpen the loose branches into stakes, jam ¡®em into the ground in the channel. Let¡¯s make ¡®em pay in blood every step.¡± I turned back towards the front of the tower, not wanting to look at Versai any longer.

    They got to work. Night came on fast. Before the moon rose, the monsters were upon us.

 Chap. 5- The First Wave

    Nobody got hungry or thirsty. I could have ignored it earlier, but by the end of a long and busy day, it was inescapable. I¡­ wasn¡¯t hungry. More than not hungry, I didn¡¯t feel the compulsion to eat.

    There is something that comes upon you when you are very fat. You are rarely truly hungry. You eat almost constantly, without conscious thought. Grazing like cattle. Stuffed like grain finished Wagyu that has learned through humiliation that the beer and massages are a myth. Stuffing yourself, for any of the myriad reasons people run to fat and stay there. But I wasn¡¯t hungry any more.

    My muscles, strong and defined, seemed to not need any nourishment. My Awakened Souls labored all day in the sun, but not once did they stop for water, or even look faint. None of us felt the need to eat, or drink, or find a toilet.

    I had to wonder just how different I truly was to my Awakened Souls. Clearly I was different, but perhaps not as different as I might have hoped.

    The Judiths had killed every tree between the front door of the tower and an invisible boundary one hundred paces due east. They then swept left and right, clearing out the semicircle. All the dead trees were hauled in front of the Tower, and lined up pointing away from the door. They were heaped as best we could manage, leaving a narrow channel in the middle.

    Tall walls of heaped trees, pointy branches pointed towards the woods where the monsters would come from, and lining the bottom of that channel were stakes. Some small, the size of a finger, but most as thick as my wrist. There was a line of thicker stakes, about as wide as my thigh, sealing off the end of the channel.

    We had done what we could. We all watched the sun set below the horizon. The monsters would be coming, very soon.

    ¡°A quick review. Rache, you are running around on top of the barricades, chopping any heads that rise up or get smart ideas about climbing over.¡± Because that was a thing she could do. Sweet Baby Ray have mercy¡­

    ¡°Chromed lightning!¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Now Mikas-¡±

    ¡°Mika¡¯s here, you have nothing to fear!¡± Times five. I pressed on.

    ¡°Mikas, you line up inside the stakes. Get your shields set. Fire as they come. If you can¡¯t shoot to kill, shoot to wound and finish them off later.

    ¡°We hold the line! Nnn Nnn!¡±

    ¡°Great, super, thanks. Just to confirm again, Versai-¡±

    ¡°I had never even heard of the concept of ammunition until you explained it an hour ago. Their crossbows simply produce the bolts they need, as they reload.¡±

    She looked at me like I was the strange one. A look I was regrettably used to receiving. 2-D girls don¡¯t look at me that way. And yet, somehow, I am supposed to prefer 3-D. The world is diseased.

    ¡°Pammy stays low behind the Mikas. Never what? Pammy?¡±

    ¡°Pammy¡¯s head never goes above the shields. Pammy only keeps the Mika¡¯s healthy, and nothing else.¡± She mumbled, looking desperately like she wanted to be hiding behind a teddy bear.

    This was messed up. I knew she was a golem that had existed for less than a day, but she still came off like she was twelve. I had tried to just think of her like a giant furby or something, but¡­ this was so, so messed up.

    ¡°You keep yourself healthy if you need to. You can¡¯t heal someone if you diiiiieeeeerrrr¡­. aren¡¯t¡­ there¡­ right?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡±

    I¡¯m going to hell. I am one hundred percent going to hell. But that Black Robe and his cousin are going there first, straight down to the boiler room.

    Deep breath. Just poseable figurines. Playing with poseable figurines. Testing out ideas from Reddit IRL.

    ¡°Becky and the Judiths hang out inside. I¡¯m inside the tower keeping an eye on things. Versai is initially posted behind the Mika¡¯s to clear any monsters that reach them, but is free to deploy elsewhere on the field as the tactical situation demands.¡±

    Mmm. As the tactical situation demands. Don¡¯t remember where I heard that line, but it sounded pro. Love it.

    A chorus of garbled barks came back, though Versai¡¯s crisp ¡°By your command, Tower Master!¡± came through clearly. The difference between a Six Star and a One Star had been painfully clear all day.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    The sun set. ¡°Into position everyone! Is that movement in the trees?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master.¡±

    ¡°Up you get Rache, here they come!¡±

    They burst out of the forest. I could see something of a wolf in them, and something of a goat. Perhaps five feet at the shoulder, with burning red eyes and jutting ram¡¯s horns over the brow. They smashed into the improvised barricade, scrabbling at the tree branches, struggling to get to us. To tear us apart.

    ¡°FIRE!¡±

    ¡°Mika can¡¯t shoot! The Bad Guys are too far away!¡±

    Damn! ¡°Fire as soon as they are in range!¡±

    The awful things screamed with rage. Their hides seemed to blend with the night. Scales or fur, I couldn¡¯t tell. But the screams- piercing, furious, like a falcon diving, like someone getting right in your face and telling you that you were subhuman. That you were prey and should be ashamed.

    I could feel myself freezing up. My mind slowed down as I tried to process the horror of what I was seeing. My Summons had no such worries.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be a road hog!¡± There was a thunk and a whinny and a monstrous scream as two parts of some beast fell down on its fellows. The channel was already starting to get packed. They smashed through the smaller branches as I expected, but they were slow. They were tearing up their legs and feet. No. Not feet.

    Horor crept up my back like a black widow, chitinous tap by chitinous tap. The monsters didn¡¯t have feet. I could see it now, just barely, They walked on their knuckles. They had hands. Horribly human hands, with thumbs and long claws. The closer they got, the more human their musculature was. Still monstrous, defiled, alien¡­ except for those parts of themselves that were all too human.

    ¡°Mika says you stay back!¡±

    The Mika¡¯s had formed a shield wall behind the stake wall. Peeking just over the top of their shield were the crossbows. There was a heavy TWANG sound, and a bolt of light slammed down range and into the monsters hung up on the branches.

    I forced myself to breathe and focus on the damage they were doing. Five Mika¡¯s hit four targets. None were one hit kills. No kills at all. It took a few seconds before the next volley swept down the narrow channel and hit. Kills. I could see the horrible things falling. It looked like it took two hits to the center mass to kill them.

    My face tried to twist into a grin, battling through the fear. When they fell, they fell on the stakes. This didn¡¯t make it easier for the monsters behind them- it clogged up the narrow channel. Slowed them down. More time for the Mika¡¯s to work.

    Volley after volley slammed into the screaming beasts. They died in one and twos and threes. The Mika¡¯s made them pay blood for every step. There were a few smart ones that tried to go high, but Rache was there. She could race around on the thin tree branches, her bright saber whipping down on their heads. She wasn¡¯t quite one-shooting them either, but the extra speed and momentum was doing a lot of work for her. As was gravity.

    I smiled, watching the beasts claw and tear at each other, as they stumbled into a falling mob. The stakes tore at them. The branches left long scratches. Nothing fatal, but every little bit helped. Every extra second the Mika¡¯s had to shoot and reload, was a second closer to victory. Every time they could focus fire on just two or three enemies, we got enemy corpses.

    I clenched my fist. Squeezed until the knuckles turned white. We were killing them. But not fast enough. They were getting closer. I bit off the urge to yell something to Versai. She was already alert, eyes fixed forward. Long sword loose in her hand. It was a straight, two handed blade, but she managed to use it one handed alongside her shield.

    They were almost on her. Almost on the Mikas. Must have been a few dozen killed already, maybe forty, but they were still coming. The Mika¡¯s were shooting from point blank now, each bolt smashing open hideous faces. Something of a wolf and a goat, yes, and a bat. Slavering towards the Awakened Mika.

    I saw her. I didn¡¯t want to see her that way, but I did. A teenage girl staring up at a monster. And then she shot it dead between the eyes.

    The Mikas were one-shotting them now. They just couldn¡¯t reload fast enough. A claw whipped out, looking to separate a pretty doll¡¯s head from her neck.

    ¡°DEFENSE!¡± I screamed. Versai¡¯s sword stabbed out like lashes of lightning, skewering the horrors over the shorter girl¡¯s heads. The monsters were pressing in, the claws starting to wrap around the edges of the shields. I swore. There should be something more, something more I could do!

    ¡°MIKA! DEFENSE! NOTHING GETS PAST YOU!¡±

    The Mikas jolted. Just for a fraction of a second, but I caught it. Then they lurched together, pressing up behind their shields. They yelled- ¡°MIKA HOLDS THE LINE! MIKA HOLDS THE LINE! SAVE OUR FAMILIES AND RUN!¡±

    White lights burst from the shields, rising up and forming a short wall. The Mikas were on top of the wall, firing through the crenelations. Their rate of fire exploded, hosing down the monsters below.

    The Mika¡¯s were screaming. I couldn¡¯t make out what, I don¡¯t think they were even words. They were screaming pure fear and hate. Bolt after bolt smashed down, the screams of the beasts below now more furious, more wild.

    It only lasted a few seconds. Then the light flickered. Once. Twice. The wall fell. The Mikas fell with it. Versai rushed out and finished off the last few monsters that were still on their feet. They couldn¡¯t touch her. Not so few of them and so injured.

    ¡°Oh no! Where is the ouchie?¡± a tiny voice piped up, out of the gore. Out of the terror. ¡°I¡¯ll make the ouchies go away.¡±

    There was only the wind in the trees, and the sound of Pammy¡¯s humming. I was lost. Drifting. This wasn¡¯t¡­ real. This wasn¡¯t what real life was like. And the Summons. I shouldn¡¯t feel anything about them, except maybe their costumes or design. They were supposed to be golems. Dolls. ¡°Awakened Spirits,¡± for god¡¯s sake.

    Oh.

    Oh no.

    I looked over at Pammy, wrapping comically large bandages around the arms of the Mika¡¯s. I remembered that documentary.

    My stomach tied up in knots. ¡°Dollies. They are just dollies. Just¡­ just dollies. Not real. Dollies.¡± I was bent over, clutching my once-ample gut. Trying to not see¡­ what I saw.

    ¡°Free range to ride, and not a bandito in sight.¡± Rache sauntered down, smiling genially.

    I looked over at Versai. ¡°Valkyrie¡± was the first word I thought of when I saw her. A chooser of the slain.

    ¡°Can¡¯t believe we won clean. I expected to win, the first wave is basically a warmup. But clean? I am genuinely impressed.¡± She looked down at the Mikas. They were still unconscious, but starting to stir. ¡°What did you do to them?¡±

    ¡°Me? I didn¡¯t do anything. I was going to ask you.¡± I tried to keep my voice together. It was like me- shaky.

    ¡°No idea, I¡¯m afraid. Maybe because you clumped a bunch of them together? I¡¯ve never seen five clumped together like that.¡±

    ¡°I yelled defense. That nothing gets past her.¡± My eyes kept sliding to Pammy. She looked pretty satisfied with her work, then fell into her holding pattern. Fidgeting and looking nervous for no reason. Tearing up for no reason.

    Versai must have seen something in my eyes. ¡°Tower Master? She¡¯s fine. Not a scratch on her. We are all fine. This was a triumph. When you claim the loot, it¡¯s going to be fantastic.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Yeah. Looking forward to the loot.¡± I looked around at my¡­ Awakened Souls.

    I would get out of this death game alive. And I was taking the Souls with me. All of them. I would draw until my hands bled and harvest and level up. I would become a Gacha God. And when we got out, we would find that goddamn necromancer Black Robe and his evil cousin and anyone else responsible.

    I forced a smile and looked over at Versai. ¡°Come on! I want to see what dropped.¡±

 Chap. 6- First Loot!

    I looked out over the torn up trees. Leaking corpses of deformed monstrosities lay where they fell. Skewered on branches, or stakes, or trampled by their fellows. ¡°Like Christmas at Guillermo del Toro¡¯s house,¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Pardon, Tower Master?¡± Versai asked. She still looked immensely chipper about everything. Guess she was used to it.

    ¡°Oh, nothing. How do we go about looting? They don¡¯t exactly have pockets.¡±

    ¡°Oh, easy. Just send out summons to tap them. They turn into a flash of golden light, and there is a chance that loot will immediately pop up in your throne room.¡±

    ¡°A chance?¡±

    ¡°Not every monster turns into loot.¡±

    I sighed mentally. RNG. Naturally. Great God Pachinko, why must you test your followers this way?

    ¡°I see. And the kind of loot they drop?¡±

    ¡°Varies depending on where and when you kill them. On the first wave, I would expect trash quality crafting materials. Rune bones are pretty common. The real prize comes from simply surviving the wave. The Tower rewards victors with valuable prizes, as well as making more of itself available to you.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Like the map room.¡± I nodded.

    ¡°Exactly. It will be available starting during the day tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Does it matter who taps them?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so?¡±

    ¡°Ever try having Becky do it?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ no, I can¡¯t say I have ever seen anyone order Becky to loot.¡±

    ¡°BECKY! Orders for you. Go loot the monsters.¡±

    ¡°Ew. No. Why do I have to go do it?¡± She wrinkled her admittedly attractive nose, but shimmied her way through the stakes regardless. That swing of the hips was immediately promoted to Sakuga tier. This doll could test a saint. But my commitment to 2-D is unshakable!

    Versai looked on in shock. Becky was complaining constantly¡­ but she did it. Tap, tap, tap. Flash, flash, flash. I I looked over at Versai.

    ¡°Quick, to the throne room! Let¡¯s see what she pulled!¡±

    I knew she couldn¡¯t be useless! She didn¡¯t even qualify as a mascot character. Golden hands! That was it! She had golden hands! A summons that was useless at everything but lucky would be a perfect Gacha game summons. She might even be part of the tweak to the starting difficulty I was promised. Subtle, but effective.

    We raced up the stairs. My newly powerful legs practically flew upwards. I kept waiting for that catch in the ribs, that shortness of breath that tells me I¡¯ve walked too fast. I haven¡¯t even tried to run in years. It never came. I could move my body the way I had always dreamed. Running for the sheer joy of running. By the time I reached the top of the Tower I was just warmed up.

    I looked around, ready to cap my joy with fat sacks of loot. ¡°So, is there a special box or something?¡± I craned my neck around, but the room seemed as empty as always.

    ¡°Not a special box, no.¡± Versai sounded hesitant, looking around.

    ¡°Is there a button I press, or a command word or something?¡±

    ¡°Not¡­ as such. Maybe there is a special ¡°Tower Master¡¯s Eyes Only¡± button?

    I looked around. Nothing. I looked back at Versai, eyes wide.

    There was a terrible pause.

    ¡°No. No. It''s not possible. Not after all that.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t let you kill her. I know. Believe me, I know! But you just can¡¯t. You just can¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the legendary Supreme Cack Hand. It¡¯s supposed to exist only in myth. In the darkest depths of the forums and the forbidden Chans, they whisper of it. The antithesis of the Gold Hands. That which taints and fouls every pull. It was never supposed to be real!¡±

    ¡°I. I will keep her away from monster corpses! Forever!¡± Versai grasped for an alternative.

    ¡°No. Sterner measures are called for. If thine eye offends thee, pluck it out. If the cack hand defiles your very first wave looting-¡±

    The moment crackled with tension. I have never considered myself a harsh man, but after everything. After I swore to get them all home. There was only one choice!

    There was a sudden burst of music and light. In the middle of the room, a chest appeared, rays of golden light radiating from it.

    ¡°She can keep her hands for now.¡±

    ¡°Tower Master¡¯s mercy is without limits!¡±

    ¡°Yes. Now. Let¡¯s see what we got.¡± I walked over and touched the box. It burst into piles on the floor. And what piles!

    Really. What are these piles? I have no idea.

    No resonance crystals, blast the Dev¡¯s eyes. This was supposed to be the honeymoon phase. Rain down loot upon me. Get me used to those sweet high tier pulls. Hook me on the dopamine loop.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Instead I had stuff. Questionable stuff.

    ¡°Wrothe¡¯s Eyes! I¡¯ve never seen such a First Wave haul!¡± Versai lacked decorum, but under the circumstances, I forgave her.

    ¡°Yes. I, too, am very happy.¡±

    She looked at me, then giggled. I died for a few moments. Do you know what happens to a weeb when the most beautiful person he has ever seen, IRL or 2-D, giggles at him happily? He dies, okay? He dies. But then he is healed by her smile, so it¡¯s tragic, but there is a happy ending.

    ¡°Let me explain. These-¡± She held up a short stack of stone chips ¡°are ordinary Stone Tapes. I don¡¯t know why they are called that, but they are. Basically, you issue them to your summons, and they get a little better. They are more accurate, hit harder, are better at using their skills, all that. Not a lot better, but better. It¡¯s pretty dramatic an improvement for the first few chips, but it slows way down as they get better and better.¡±

    EXP tokens for level up. Got it. Always hated that mechanic, like they didn¡¯t just experience what they experienced to get the tokens. The name rang a bell though. Eh. It would come to me.

    ¡°You have twenty of them. That¡¯s a big chunk after just one wave. Oh, they will be less effective on the Judiths, and there is no use giving them to me. No idea why, it just works that way.¡±

    Because you are higher star characters and need more EXP to level up, you beautiful, ravishing, angel you.

    ¡°These are a little more special.¡± She held up what looked like a palmful of rock sugar. ¡°Pick up a piece and take a close look inside.¡±

    I did as she said. It felt hard and cool, like jagged bits of crystal. I held the thing close to my eye and squinted. Was there¡­ a hint of a face? It sort of glowed a reddish orange around the face. There was a subtle vibration in my finger tips. I held it close to my ear. Very faintly, it sounded like the celestial choirs when the ordinary resonance crystals were used at the pool.

    ¡°Some kind of specialized Resonance Crystal?¡±

    ¡°Well done! Yes, exactly. You need to gather some amount of these, then they fuse into a crystal that summons a specific Awakened Soul. At least that¡¯s what I heard from a previous Tower Master. I¡¯ve never actually seen it done.¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t think it would be another Six Star, but I can¡¯t imagine it¡¯s a bad draw. Do you know how many we need?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t. Sorry. More than what you¡¯ve got.¡±

    I snorted but smiled. ¡°Still, lucky. Alright, what''s the gold medal looking thing?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea. It¡¯s a Tower Reward, though, so it¡¯s very good.¡±

    She hesitated, and I finished the thought for her. ¡°For a first wave reward.¡±

    ¡°Yes. They don¡¯t go up dramatically, but I do remember that the Tower Masters who reached the third wave were quite pleased with the rewards.¡±

    ¡°Some of ¡®em didn¡¯t make it past the first wave? I thought you said it was a warmup?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be.¡± Her voice was bone dry. ¡°And yet.¡±

    Such fun. I picked up the gold medal. It started glowing with a pale orange light, and drifted over to a wall of the room and implanted itself.

    ¡°Wave #1- Flawless Victory¡± slowly appeared on the disk. Very small letters. I was unimpressed. There was a little sparkling white light on the bottom, practically begging me to tap it. I thought about ignoring it out of spite, but this was supposed to be a reward. I tapped it. A message popped up:

    Wave #1, zero casualties, zero monsters in the tower. Reward: All ranged units, +1% Speed When Attacking.

    ¡°You seeing this?¡± I asked Versai.

    ¡°Yes. I¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say. When I think about how many of my former Tower Masters might have lived if they had only¡­¡±

    ¡°One percent, though.¡±

    ¡°Over how many summons, and how many attacks? You have Five Mikas. If they can fire one hundred and one bolts in the time it takes to fire one hundred normally, that¡¯s¡­ at least two and as many as five dead monsters, depending on range. And it only takes one monster to redefine your existence as distilled humiliation and pain.¡±

    I hated to admit she had a point. But she did. There would only be more and more ranged units. The cumulative advantage would be enormous. But still.

    ¡°One percent though¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a very impressive number, is it? She smiled wryly.

    I shook my head and turned back to the loot pile.

    ¡°Alright, last but not least, what do we have here?¡±

    They were little orange slabs, covered in dense symbols. I assumed they were writing of some kind. There were four of them.

    ¡°These are the biggest reason I was excited. They are resource packs.¡±

    They were about the size of a playing card, and the thickness of a crayon.

    ¡°Do we exchange them somewhere or something?¡±

    ¡°No need, just snap them in half and the resources listed on the pack will appear. These are orange, so I am expecting something decent.¡±

    I opened the magic chest to get the magic pile of magic chips which I would break open to get the magic pile of magic materials.

    You know, I played a lot of gacha games. The RNG could be a drag, grind could be boring, but the logic behind in-game items had rarely bothered me. I was now bothered. Very bothered. So many things to discuss with the developers and my spiritual counselor, Mr. Brick-In-A-Sock.

    I shrugged and got snapping. The piles¡­ piled up¡­ on the floor. I started oohing and aaahing right alongside Versai. The gods of RNG had delivered nails, rope, scrap iron, and other building supplies.

    ¡°The Judiths are about to get very busy. But a good busy.¡± I smiled.

    ¡°Tomorrow.¡± Versai matched my smile, and nodded.

    ¡°Yep. Where do we sleep? Actually, I¡¯m not even tired. Odd.¡±

    ¡°Tired? Sleep?¡± She cocked her head to one side.

    ¡°Yes? What happens after a busy day?¡±

    ¡°Well, you have completed your wave, and I don¡¯t think there are any more actions you can take today, so don¡¯t you simply advance to the next day?¡±

    We blinked at each other for a moment. ¡°Advance to the next day?¡±

    There was a sudden lurch. I couldn¡¯t describe it, but somehow I felt like I had shifted a foot to my left without moving. The accumulated psychic strain of the day had vanished, or at least mostly vanished. Versai was still blinking at me, but instead of being cooled by the moonlight, she was bathed in the fires of the morning sun.

    ¡°Yes, advance to the next day.¡± She stretched. It might have done wonderful things for her figure, but the solid metal chestplate did not allow for the seeing of sights. ¡°I always feel so refreshed when the day advances. Nothing quite like it!¡±

    I sat down on the ground. I just needed to be on the ground. Grabbing on to the stones. Feeling the world spin. I don¡¯t sleep anymore. I don¡¯t eat, or drink or excrete, or sweat, or or or or SLEEP. You need to sleep. No matter how bad it gets, if you can sleep you have a few guaranteed hours of oblivion, or close enough. You have rest. The ability to heal. This psychic refresh thing was not at all the same. Not at all the same! And the Tower was spinning and I was barely holding on!

    I felt cool water wash over my mind. I stood up, smiling. ¡°Come on, I¡¯m excited to check out the map room. Let¡¯s see what Rache discovered before giving the Judiths their orders, shall we?¡±

 Chap. 7- The First Expedition

    Rested and refreshed after advancing to Day 2, I merrily marched to my newly opened Map Room. It was three floors down from the throne room, but I was starting to get a bit suspicious of the Tower¡¯s geography. The floors were all connected by a single spiral staircase, the doors (sealed or otherwise) were spaced evenly apart. It took the same amount of time to get from the throne room to the summoning room, to the map room, and so on and so on, down the tower. Which was obviously nonsense.

    For one thing, the spacing on the staircase was plainly fraudulent. The ceiling on the summoning room was European Cathedral high, easily more than a hundred feet. There weren''t a hundred feet of stairs between the top two floors, though. And while the tower certainly felt huge from the outside¡­ not that huge.

    Can I do anything about it? Yes. Meditate on the teachings of the ancestors. Naruto would never give up. Neither would Diet-Naruto, Asta. Yeah. If Black Clover could get its own animation despite the laws of both God and Man, I can believe anything.

    Having successfully meditated, quite possibly transcending the insight of the most profound gurus, I strode into the map room. Then strode right back out again. I gave the door a hard look. Then peeked out an arrow loop doubling as a window on the stair. Yep. That was the outside. I¡¯d recognize it anywhere. Sun shining down on the primordial forest in all its vegital glory.

    I stuck my head back into the map room. Looked up. Pulled out one of the XP chips and flung it violently upward. Good strong arms on me now. A good, strong, back. It was a few seconds until the chip clattered back down again.

    The night sky- no it was a parody of the night sky, the constellations picked out in stars far brighter than their counterparts, formed a bowl over the seemingly endless room. There was a little sandstone path leading to an enormous table. All around us were the rolling dunes of the Sahara. On the absurdly vast table was a diorama of the forest.

    Situated a foot or so from the edge of the table closest to the door was the Tower. Extending further away from the tower was the forest, the lake, and at the very edge of the light were the mountains I could barely make out looking out the top floor of the tower.

    What light, given that the room was made to look like the night sky? Excellent question. There was a tiny sun, hovering just above the ¡°eastern¡± edge of the table. Because of course there was.

    ¡°Does the map room always look like this?¡±

    ¡°Yes? What¡¯s wrong with it?¡± Versai asked.

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m the strange one. With every order I give, the sun shifts a fifth of the way across the sky?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I ever checked, but it does move, now that you mention it.¡± She nodded.

    Yeah, clocks would be pointless in this place. So why not?

    I approached the table. Mmm. I hadn¡¯t given Rache very specific instructions on where to scout, had I? Just ¡°around¡± or something.

    ¡°Is there any way to zoom in?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Fair enough. I tried a few pinching gestures, some pulling motions- nothing. On the other hand, there was nothing stopping me from getting really close and squinting. Was that¡­ I tried to push aside one of the trees, but it might as well have been made of iron. I got as close as I could without poking my eye out.

    ¡°Versai, does that look like a bunch of tiny flowers to you?¡±

    She got close to the diorama, her perfect, sapphire eyes narrowing. ¡°Yes. I would say¡­ some kind of Ancient Garden. Nice. It won¡¯t be anything amazing this close to the Tower, but it¡¯s a nice find.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s an ancient garden?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you find gardens out there. You know. Really old ones. They can have herbs in them that do stuff, or flowers you can plant around the tower to make it look pretty, that kind of thing.¡± She shrugged.

    ¡°What kind of stuff?¡±

    ¡°Stuff. Make your summons stronger, usually. Sometimes faster. Sometimes healing.¡±

    ¡°Permanently?¡± I asked, hope throbbing in my voice.

    ¡°One Wave.¡±

    Goodbye, hope. I hope our parting is only temporary. Well, maybe I was being too optimistic. I should expect Wave 2 to be stronger than Wave 1. That would be offset partially by better defenses, but having buffs available would also be pretty huge. Yeah. Yeah, this was seeming like a must do activity.

    I checked around but didn¡¯t see much else of interest. Although the blasted map did make me think I was developing astigmatism. It turned out that I could see up to the mountains from the tower windows, so everything up to the Mountains was visible.

    Everything on the other side of the mountains was covered in impenetrable fog. And within the forest itself, if it wasn¡¯t the tiny band that Rache had scouted, things looked somewhat blurry. I had such fun figuring that out.

    I assembled everyone outside. ¡°Alright, we have two main things to do today before the wave tonight.¡±

    ¡°Mika¡¯s here! You have nothing to fear!¡±

    ¡°Yes, thank you Mika. First order of business- Judiths. How long would it take you to build a wall Four Mika¡¯s tall, with a firing step, that covered the entrance to the tower? I¡¯m thinking a box. No need to make a gate. Just a shallow wooden box just outside the door.¡±

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    I had checked with Versai- no ranged units through the third wave, and she hadn¡¯t seen any before she died at the start of the fourth. So no worries about building a covered firing position just yet. The Judiths performed a synchronized shrug. ¡°What kind of wall?¡±

    ¡°Palisade, made from the tree trunks we cut down yesterday. You would turn the off cuts and branches into stakes, and just cover the area in front of, and around, the wall with them. Leave a few intact trees to try and restrict access to the sides and slow everything down.¡±

    Combo-ing some Shogun Total War 2 and some subreddit shenanigans there, but what the hell. It all made sense to me.

    They looked at each other. These were old growth trees, cut from virgin forest. Huge, in other words. Plenty long enough. It would be time consuming and difficult to dig them in and clean off the branches, but-

    ¡°One order for the wall, another for the stakes. Can we use the iron nails to reinforce the wall with cross braces?¡±

    ¡°Will that make it stronger?¡±

    ¡°You bet!¡± They nodded. There was a little more going on in there than in the Level One¡¯s, but the glassy eyed stare and fixed smile was getting to me.

    I was about to give the order, and hesitated. ¡°How are you two at gathering herbs?¡±

    ¡°Not the best, Chief!¡± They chorused.

    ¡°How are you compared to Mika?¡±

    ¡°God Tier, Chief!¡±

    Ahah. I figured.

    ¡°Versai, how are you at gathering herbs?¡±

    ¡°Better than Mika, worse than Judith. Workers have a huge edge in any non-combat task.¡±

    ¡°Any idea how long the investigation of the Ancient Garden will take?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Fantastic. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I knew I couldn¡¯t go on the expedition, my foot nailed to the floor in the Tower. I was sure that rule would loosen eventually, but for now, I was stuck. I tried to imagine the expedition team composition.

    First had to be Rache. She could lead the way, as well as scouting for danger. As soon as I had the thought, there was a sudden lurch and I could see little cards floating in front of me. EXPEDITION: and then an empty box. I could see a very abbreviated map, with a little flag sticking out of it. I focused on the flag.

    EXPEDITION: ANCIENT HERB GARDEN

    TIME:

    TEAM:

    I tentatively imagined Rache on the team. A card with her picture popped up, and slapped into the line next to the word ¡°team.¡± The mission time changed from nothing, to 1. Out of curiosity, I removed Rache. Back to blank. Mika? 3. Versai? 2. Interesting. What about Rache and Mika together? 2. Rache and Versai? 2. Hmm. What about putting a Mika first, then Rache? Still two. HMMM.

    Beka? 15. Three full days. I really needed to express my deep, DEEP appreciation to the character design team.

    Alright, leaving aside the Tower ballast- Oh wait! Pammy. Also a 2.

    ¡°Pammy, do you like picking flowers and collecting herbs?¡±

    ¡°Um. Um. Um. Pammy might be okay, but she¡¯s afraid she¡¯ll mess everything up.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you will do fine, sweety.¡± GOD I hated how I talked to her. I just couldn¡¯t see her as anything other than a twelve year old girl somewhere she had no business being. Freaking character design got to me. The moe was too strong!

    Versai had said that anyone who was back at the tower by nightfall could fight, so there shouldn¡¯t be any problems deploying most of my strength, but¡­ those Mika¡¯s were just too slow. I assembled an expedition team on the little pop up, and hit Begin!

    ¡°Order number one. Versai, Rache, Pammy and the Judiths will travel to the Ancient Herb Garden and gather everything they can!

    I quickly looked up at the sun in the sky, and started grinning. It had shifted, but only by a fifth. That meant that the amount of time used by the expedition would not translate into lost orders. I didn¡¯t know if this was an exploit or an intended feature, but either way, I was going to use it.

    ¡°Order Two- Mikas, dig a trench as deep as your hips and as wide as two shields along the line I¡¯m going to draw in the dirt for you.¡±

    It would take them far, far longer to dig than it would the Judiths, but we had time. When the monsters came tonight, they would find us well prepared. The expedition team had practically vanished, zooming off into the woods. By the time the Mika¡¯s were done digging the hole for the palisade, the expedition had returned.

    I felt myself glitch again. I don¡¯t have another word for it. I glitched. It didn¡¯t make sense. However far the garden was from here, it had a fixed distance. Some characters would be faster than others, that made sense, but to travel somewhere, harvest herbs, and return in ¡°2¡±- it made no sense! What if I had ordered the Mikas to clap twice for the second order? Would the whole expedition have taken less than two minutes?

    It took a few minutes to come back together, but I got there. This was a gacha game world. Things, fundamentally, did not conform to the logic of my world. I would just have to¡­ figure it out. Figure out how to deal.

    The alternative was horrible monster death, and I really, really didn¡¯t want to go out like that. Just¡­ crest the wave. Ride the weird. So many of my Isekai¡¯ed heroes dealt with strange new worlds. I would do the same.

    ¡°What did you find, ladies? Who definitely spent more than an hour on their expedition?¡±

    ¡°We get the job done!¡±

    ¡°Just cruising free and easy.¡±

    ¡°Pammy did her best. Sowwwweeee!!!!¡±

    ¡°It went quite well. Rache is an excellent scout so the trip was fast and safe. The Judiths, assisted by Pammy and, being honest, mostly just guarded by Rache and I, were able to make a considerable harvest.¡± Versai held up a basket, showing off the loot.

    ¡°We recovered four herbs capable of suppressing damage received, two that improve movement speed, and one that improves attack speed. All and all, a very respectable expedition. We also recovered five packs of wildflower seeds. Which, before you ask, are purely for the purposes of beautification.¡±

    ¡°Oh? How do those work?¡±

    ¡°Haven¡¯t the faintest idea. Everyone died before planting them.¡±

    Fantastic. ¡°And the herbs?¡±

    ¡°You just eat them. Maybe you could do more if we had a worker that specializes in herbs or cooking or something, but I¡¯ve never seen a worker like that. Their existence is pure speculation on the part of other Tower Masters.¡±

    I shrugged. Knowing gacha games, it seemed very likely to me too.

    ¡°Versai, just how many Tower Masters have you served?¡±

    ¡°Enough that your faces blur together into one suffering mass. Sorry. It¡¯s why I keep my distance. At least until we cross the barrier of the Fourth Wave¡­ it¡¯s better for me if I don¡¯t really care about you beyond the job. Sorry if that hurts your feelings, but¡­¡± She shrugged.

    Delightful. And horribly understandable. I couldn¡¯t be mad at her about that.

    ¡°Tomorrow morning, we will figure out the best places to plant the wildflowers. Now, we have a defense to plan. We got a clean win yesterday. Let''s do it again tonight!¡±

 Chap. 8- But First, A Very Special Offer!

    I jogged back up to the Throne Room, just to make sure I had gotten through all the non-combat missions. And to collect the rewards, naturally!

    Let¡¯s see, I visited the map room for the first time, that¡¯s worth¡­ Huh. Forty Rune Bones. With which I can purchase¡­ nothing. Fantastic. First Expedition- OH! Oh, now we are cooking!

    Not me cooking, obviously, I¡¯m a cup noodle and delivery guy, but we, figuratively, are cooking. Because First Expedition nets me fifty Resonance crystals. Added to everything else, I¡¯m only ten short!

    I knew they weren¡¯t going to screw me on summons. Come on Honeymoon Phase! Daddy needs to draw some legendary rares!

    Resource goal- we easily got the logs, another ten Rune Bones there, and another fifty for processing them into boards. Huh. It took me a minute to figure out, but I got there. Workers must be a lower probability draw, let alone Level 2 Workers. It would eat up a lot more time to make boards usually, so my reward was better. Not a lot better, but better.

    Hmm. Not a lot of missions here. Aren¡¯t there supposed to be tons? Keep the players occupied? I mean, ¡°Purchase the Special Supply Chest in the Gnome Market? What Gnome Market? Show me where in this Tower there is a Gnome Market!

    One of the flyers I had ignored earlier was flashing. A little yellow white spark. Blink. Blink.

    I sighed and tapped it.

    From out of the flier, an enormous counter with goods on display popped into existence. Behind it, blatantly standing on a box, was a rather pretty Gnome. She had all the usual Gnome accessories- overly elaborate brass spectacles, lots of inexplicable geegaws hanging off her, sensible leather jacket and quite charming curly red-gold hair.

    ¡°He he he HELLOoooo! Welcome to the Gnome Market! Special prices for special customers. See what we have on offer today!¡±

    And just like that, it was awkward.

    I hate talking to people in stores. It¡¯s why I get everything from Amazon. I know she¡¯s just being polite and hoping I¡¯m going to buy something, but usually when a woman is being nice to me and smiling a lot, it¡¯s a possible love interest in an Eroge. But I¡¯m not a moron, so I know it¡¯s not that IRL. But it¡¯s still weird. So. Not really sure how to deal.

    ¡°Hey. Uh. Is this your shop?¡±

    She kept beaming a smile in my direction. The more I looked at her, the more the details added up. I sighed and relaxed.

    ¡±You aren¡¯t even as responsive as a One Star Awakened Soul, are you?¡±

    She didn¡¯t even blink.

    ¡±One way to handle customer service, I guess.¡±

    I had a look at what was on the shelf. None of it stood out. Most of it was miles and miles out of my budget. Twenty thousand rune bones for a sack of¡­ something. Eight hundred for five fragments of a specific summon crystal, but for a person I didn¡¯t recognize.

    One of the items sparkled. I shook my head and checked the total amount of Rune Bones I had collected. It had added up nicely, coming in at a hundred and seventy. Plus the starting bonus, but I wanted to save that.

    ¡±How much is that sack right there?¡±

    ¡±Oh, you want the Special Supply Chest?¡± It was a sack. A Sack! ¡°Fifty rune bones!¡±

    I looked at the other shelves. Honey blond wood, neatly divided into boxes, each displaying a single example of the sold goods. Each with a big, eye-catching price on display, many with a thin red line through them and a discount written above.

    The absolute cheapest thing, with discount, was four hundred Rune Bones. A pure ¡°Get them into the shop and used to buying stuff¡± mission.

    ¡°Say, this is good, but do you have any special stock? Really top quality stuff?¡± Perhaps H material? You never knew if you didn¡¯t ask, right?

    Glassy stare. The glassy staring intensified. And continued. And continued.

    ¡°Here are fifty rune bones. Please give me the Special Supply Chest!¡±

    ¡±Thank you for shopping at the Gnome Market! We appreciate your business!¡± Her voice was lovely. High pitched, but not grating. It warmed my weeaboo heart to hear it. I had seen Furbies more alive than this ¡°Gnome.¡±

    The shop vanished back into the flier. I could read it now- Gnome Market. The other flyers were still quite blurry. Maybe I had to progress a certain number of waves to unlock them? Collect so many supplies? I¡¯d find out.

    I opened the chest. Two resource packs¡­ and exactly ten Resonance Crystals.

    You are damn right I ran my way to the summoning pool!

    I had been wondering how they would handle losses from the first wave. It sounded like a zero loss first wave was just not something that ever happened. In my case, I was able to pull it off thanks to the comically huge abatis provided by the Judiths and the concentrated ranged firepower of the Mikas. And people just didn¡¯t draw five Mika¡¯s all at once. Maybe that was the mysterious starting difficulty adjustment. A strong first pull.

    I got to the pool and was once again struck by the holy feeling of the place. It¡­ felt humbling. Like I needed to wipe my feet before coming in. Maybe I needed to wipe up my soul.

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    I went to the long pool and tossed in my hundred resonance crystals. Versai said that more than half were Level One. Still, you always hope, right?

    Now that I was giving it my concentration¡­ the normal summoning remained underwhelming. A faint chorus of wordless holy sounding music, a lot of ¡°AaaaaAAAAHHHHHHAAAhhhhaaaaaAAAAA¡± stuff, a swirl of pearly white mist, and a faint shape emerging from within.

    ¡°Radz reporting. What needs to be gone?¡± I spotted a single faint star shimmering above her head, then it vanished. Damn. Oh well. I took a look at the rest of her and wanted to shove her back in the mists.

    Pretty, of course, in that porcelain doll kind of way. Short black hair, cut like Snow White. I don¡¯t know what you call that haircut. Deep, deep black eyes. Eyes that looked right through you and into some place you were thankful you couldn¡¯t see yourself. Black and gold headset on her head that looked more like a fancy headband, and that brilliantly coordinated with the black uniform she was wearing.

    I don¡¯t know what army decided that the correct uniform was a white shirt, black tie, black jacket and a thigh length black skirt held up by a thick leather belt and leather suspenders. Clearly there was at least one. What got my attention the most, though, was the enormous suitcase she was dragging.

    ¡°Report, Radz- what class are you?¡±

    ¡±Radz is artillery, Tower Master.¡± Her voice was slow. Not quite monotone, she wasn¡¯t over the line into kuudere territory. Just¡­ slow. Like she wasn¡¯t going to rush for anyone or anything.

    Not a trait I personally value in an artillery officer, but what do I know? Her fit was impeccable. That much, I do know.

    ¡°Oh? What kind of artillery?¡± This was kind of pushing it. The other Level One¡¯s seemed refreshingly simple, but I had a feeling here.

    ¡±Radz has a M701 Light Field Mortar, currently able to fire airburst anti-personnel rounds at a minimum range of forty meters and a maximum range of two kilometers.¡±

    What¡¯s that in cheeseburgers per freedom-eagle? Jesus never used metric, and he was American. Proof, if more was needed, that Metric was a Masonic conspiracy perpetrated by that quisling Napoleon.

    Ah nertz. Was a meter the same as a pace? Is a meter shorter or longer than one of my steps? Or is a pace two steps? There are no rulers around so¡­ screw it. I¡¯d figure it out. Wait? Minimum-

    ¡°Sorry, there is a minimum range? You can¡¯t shoot at anything closer than forty meters?¡±

    ¡±Correct, Tower Master.¡±

    My mind immediately went to the very shallow palisade wall outside.

    ¡±Well. This is going to be a challenge.¡±

    ________________________________________________________________

    The Judiths had exceeded my expectations. They also screwed my lumber supply, but under the circumstances, I forgave them. They were not kawaii. They could only apologize by being ferociously good at their jobs.

    The palisade wall was built right where I had dug the Trench. Which was good! They had peeled the bark off the thick tree trunks, hacked off the branches and trimmed the trunks down to an even twenty feet tall.

    It felt worryingly low, given how I had seen the monsters run and climb yesterday. The Judiths had apparently thought the same.

    Instead of jamming the logs in a solid wall, they had tilted every other log thirty degrees forward, then lashed them to the upright logs. They then reinforced everything with horizontal nailed planks.

    It would hold up to a charge better, keep the monsters from climbing easily, or jumping straight up, and would give the Mika¡¯s plenty of space to shoot from on the firing step behind the sharpened points of the logs.

    Naturally, the branches and smaller offcuts had been sharpened into stakes and added to the absolute field of them we had arranged in front of the tower. A lot of the ones from yesterday had been broken, and were now basically just wood chips. I had them heaped to one side.

    We had gotten flower seeds. I might know zilch about gardening, but when have you ever seen a garden without mulch?

    All very good stuff. They had even processed the remaining trees into rough planks and beams. Yep. All very good.

    Except that I figured the people fighting on the barricade would be the Mikas, with Versai as backup, and Rache sweeping around the outside to pick off stragglers and the wounded. I was not, in other words, expecting to deploy artillery in my deliberately very shallow, easy to build, easy to defend, wall!

    Deep breaths. Deeep breaths. The sun is setting, woo woo¡­ Oh wait, I didn¡¯t really like those movies. Yeah, I¡¯m stressed.

    Alright. Alright. Positive thinking. Can we turn this frown upside down? I have one order left. I have timber. I have the Judiths. I even have some new resource packs.

    I quickly cracked them open. More trash tier nails, rope and metal fasteners. Just what I needed. Thank you RNG Gods! Unless you are Black Robe and Rosalia, in which case, I hope you catch something unspeakable from your sickening hobbies.

    ¡°Hey, Versai?¡± I yelled across the clearing to where she was still planting stakes.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Would it count as an order to have Radz here demonstrate her weapon?¡±

    ¡±Yes.¡±

    I take it back. The RNG gods can fall into a vat of festering weevils. Alright, the design up to this point hasn¡¯t been the¡­ most robust. Maybe I can do this the dumb and easy way.

    ¡±Hey Judiths?¡±

    ¡±Yes boss?¡±

    ¡±Order for you. Using the timber we have, and using as much of the stockpiled supplies of nails, rope and fasteners as you need, build a platform behind the palisade where Radz can deploy her mortar and safely fire it.¡±

    They grinned. ¡°Can do!¡±

    I¡­ may have to broaden my definition of ¡°Kawaii.¡± Right now, no one was cuter than Judith. They got right to work.

    ¡°Alright, tonight¡¯s menu will be monsters, skewered, shredded and sliced. And by the Goddess and all her doki doki angels, I expect to see each of you alive and well at the end of the meal.¡± Because you are not replaceable just yet, and I want to live.

    ¡±Yes, Tower Master!¡±

    Tonight was the first ¡°real¡± wave, according to Versai. The monsters would be very slightly stronger, there would be a lot more of them, and they would come at us a little faster. I handed out most of the herbs, but privately swore I wouldn¡¯t order them eaten unless absolutely necessary. I wanted as many edges as possible for Wave Three.

    I went around, divvying up the Stone Tapes. I skipped Versai and the Judiths, concentrating on the Mikas, Rache, and new arrival or not, Radz.

    I am broad minded. Sometimes, flat truly is justice. But under the circumstances, I want to be on the side with the big cannons.

 Chap. 9- The Second Wave Begins!

    The orders of the day were done. Night was coming. The monsters were coming.

    I put people in their places. Radz fit neatly on her firing platform. Versai swore blind that the monsters only attacked in melee. I hoped she was right, because otherwise Radz was no-lucky-chances-permitted DEAD. Sitting up there with no cover, on her frankly bizarre looking mortar. It was eye searingly impractical, even by the standards of gacha game weapon design nonsense.

    She sat on top of the mortar. Really. The base of the tube ran up between her thin white legs. On either side of the tube, attached to a crank were a pair of pedals. Throw one lever, and you could pedal the mortar around to control the direction. Throw another lever, and you changed the elevation.

    How did she reload? She did not. Because apparently, the mortar was just ready to fire every minute or so.

    I thought I saw Physics sitting on a tree stump, chain smoking Lucky Strikes with the filters torn off and muttering darkly about the need for a union. But it was just a shadow. Yes, just a shadow.

    Did I mention all this unfolded from a slightly oversized roller bag that Radz hauled around like luggage she refused to check? It did.

    I¡¯ve always been self employed, but I get the argument behind a union. Who else is going to stand up for you? Your boss? Couldn¡¯t always do it on your own.

    Radz was vague on how long it took to reload. I hoped it was less than a minute. One Star Artillery, though. I didn¡¯t have much hope.

    The Mikas were up on the palisade, ready to fire down. The Judiths had done a bang-up job banging down a nightmare forest of stakes all through the clearing. The flanks were covered by deep nests of thin, whippy branches. The crowns of the chopped trees, essentially. I didn¡¯t think it would stop the monsters. None of this could stop them. It just slowed them down. Gave the Mikas time to work.

    Most importantly, it stopped the Mikas from getting flanked. That was the real downside of the palisade. I tried to recreate the fatal funnel effect, but there were limits to effectiveness without the dense abatis. In theory, the palisade would provide significantly better protection and survivability. In practice?

    Well. We would see. Pammy was ready to go, her back against the Tower wall until she was needed. No monster was going to reach through a gap and snag her. I would make sure of it.

    Versai was the floater and final line of defense. She said she could move around behind the Mikas. With her two handed sword, shield, and plate armor. Sure. Well, the Judiths did make a pretty sizable firing step. We¡¯d see.

    Rache would be scouting the monsters and attacking their flanks, same as last time. I had seen her drive right over the tops of the stakes, totally unimpeded. I was starting to harbor doubts that she was really one star, but¡­ guess I would find out.

    ¡°Alright. Rache, hold on for a second. Radz!¡±

    ¡±Radz reporting. What needs to disappear?¡±

    ¡±Fire straight ahead, target the trees at the edge of the clearing.¡± It should be a hundred yards out or so. Well within range.

    ¡±No targets identified.¡±

    ¡±It¡¯s area denial. Fire!¡±

    ¡±No targets identified.¡±

    ¡±She can¡¯t shoot unless someone marks a target for her or she sees them herself. Rache can mark targets as a scout. She can¡¯t just shoot at nothing.¡± Versai supplied. ¡°And only Monsters count as ¡®something.¡¯¡±

    There it was. The first shoe dropping. My precious ¡°Maximum Range Four Kilometers¡± fire support was nonsense without a paired scout. Which¡­ arg.

    ¡±Rache, up and at ¡®em. Scout for monsters and- how do you mark them?¡±

    ¡°Smoke ¡®em up!¡± She held up a flare gun. I swear she didn¡¯t have it a second ago. She lowered her hand and the flare gun vanished again. What in the Lupin III was this shenanigan right here?

    ¡±You know what? Sure. Yeah. I have no questions about any of that. Rache, get out there and start marking targets. When all the monsters are inside of forty meters from the palisade, start attacking the flanks.¡±

    ¡±Wooo! Rache¡¯s riding hard tonight!¡± She zoomed off into the woods, tassels flying.

    ¡°Mikas, fire as soon as they come into range. Keep ¡®em off the palisade.¡±

    ¡±Mika¡¯s here, never fear!¡±

    ¡±Thanks. Pammy?¡±

    ¡±Pammy stands with her back to the wall, right by the door unless someone gets hurt. Then I drag them to the door and fix the ouchie.¡±

    ¡±Good job Pammy, exactly right.¡± I controlled the urge to pat her head. It was hard. ¡°Versai?¡±

    ¡±Floating reserve, but generally stay behind the Mikas and keep the monsters off.¡±

    ¡±Yep. Alright, now we-¡°

    ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡±

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    Smoke had popped up from the forest. The mortar wheeled around faster than I had feared. There was a metallic ¡°Crack!¡±

    Louder than I had expected, though not painful. There was silence for a few seconds. Then a hissing noise, and the most shattering explosion I had ever heard.

    I was face down on the ground, hands pressed over my ears. It wasn¡¯t even near me. You can watch videos all you want, but nothing, NOTHING sounds like the real thing. It wasn¡¯t aimed at me, but it¡¯s lucky that none of us needed to drink, cause I damn near pissed myself.

    ¡±Targets Marked. Reloading.¡± She shifted the tube around, adjusting the angle and making minute changes to direction.

    I pulled myself back together. I was on the side of the big cannons. I could deal. I could. I tried to count the seconds, but I had lost track early on. Less than a minute. Forty five seconds? Then the metallic crack, and a second later, the blast. This time I stayed on my feet but I still flinched hard.

    ¡°Targets Marked. Reloading.¡± The smoke was getting closer. What kind of effectiveness was this having? How accurate was Radz? No way to know. Not today, at least. She shifted and adjusted while the tube reloaded.

    I couldn¡¯t see her do anything to reload, which still wielded me out. I was flat out certain that if a modern military unit anywhere took forty five seconds per mortar fired, that unit would be in for a very educational time. How was gacha magic slower than Army guys?

    Crack- One Mississip- Boom. Less than one second. She wasn¡¯t firing at as high an angle as I thought she would be. Must be the extra height. Either that or they were closer than I could tell, trying to spot a plume of smoke in the dim moonlight.

    How was Radz seeing it well enough to figure out where to shoot? Wasn¡¯t there¡­ math or something you had to do? Calculus? I don¡¯t think this was covered in Girls und Panzer, but I might have been distracted and missed it.

    ¡°Targets Marked. Reloading.¡±

    ¡°Radz, report target range.¡± Silence was all I got in reply.

    Damn you devs! She was responsive before. Is telling me how far the enemies are suddenly an exploit? I could see the blasted ribbon of smoke!

    I really wanted to scream about the unfairness of it all. I volunteered to look at almost nude anime waifus. I hadn¡¯t even agreed to any terms and conditions. And now, I had to fight monsters according to the game¡¯s rules, even if it got me killed.

    Crack¡­ BOOM! I flinched harder this time. I got my answer.  Where are the monsters? ¡°Closer than you would like.¡±

    ¡±Targets Marked. Reloading.¡±

    ¡±Eyes up! We have incoming any second. Mikas! Fire as soon as they are in range!¡± I knew I was repeating myself. I couldn¡¯t help it. I needed to say something, do something. But I couldn¡¯t.

    ¡±Nothing gets past Mika! Nnn. Nnn!¡±

    Radz had wheeled the mortar around until the barrel was aimed almost flat into the woods. Straight ahead. It was only the second wave. Seems the monsters weren¡¯t ready to grow a brain yet.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose artillery has a secondary attack they can use at close range? A sidearm or something?¡±

    ¡±What¡¯s a sidearm?¡± Versai asked.

    ¡±Something not relevant apparently-¡°

    The crack-boom came almost at the same time. I could feel the air shake, punching me in the chest. The stabbing in my ears passed quickly, but I knew I was still shaken. The treeline was shredded. A patch of it just disintegrated. So did the monsters that had been standing on the X.

    Shame about all the ones behind them.

    They came spilling out of the forest, long hand-paws digging through gore into the dirt. Really pushing off hard and exploding into the clearing around the tower. Eager to tear us apart.

    Tear me apart.

    The thought dragged down my spine, knife sharp and shivery cold. They were here to tear me apart. The Awakened Spirits, all my summons, all my defenses, were just obstacles. Just in the way. There was only ever one goal. Those long, all too human hands wanted to reach inside of me and play.

    That''s what Black Robe had said. What Versai had said too. They didn¡¯t just want to kill me. They wanted to make it hurt. They wanted me broken into tiny pieces before they broke me into tiny pieces. There was something or someone waiting to watch me die, and they wanted to give them a good show. Wanted to make sure they had a laugh.

    I almost bolted. I almost turned from the palisade and ran. I wish I could say a sudden furious anger kept me in place. That some unknown spring of courage shot up within me. Watering the flowers of bold leadership.

    It was just despair. I couldn¡¯t run. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. I stopped them here because I had to. There was no second option. I had to stop them here. But there was nothing I could do. No orders to give. No spells to cast. I had done all I could. And now my life was out of my hands.

    ¡±Targets Marked, Reloading.¡±

    Just another day at work for Radz. For Rache too, apparently, as I could see smoke snaking up from the woods. Maybe there was something I could do.

    ¡±Radz! Target the monsters you can see at the treeline. Don¡¯t target the ones closer until ordered!¡±

    ¡±Orders received. Radz ready to blow it all away.¡± Her pedals shifted back, targeting the monsters coming out of the treeline. Some had already made it to the stakes. That was fine. They could come in nice small, slow moving groups. I¡¯d have Radz keep thinning them out for the Mikas.

    I could feel myself slip into a detached madness. A kind of fatalism, where you knew you were going to be hurt. There was no way this would be okay. But I couldn¡¯t do anything but accept, so I did.

    The monsters were forced to zig-zag around the stakes. They mostly weren¡¯t dumb enough to try and charge straight through a big pointy bit of wood. Mostly. Some got shoved onto a stake. The damage wasn¡¯t fatal, but every little bit added up. Every step slower was a win.

    One lucky customer made it within forty meters of the palisade. Five glowing bolts hit it. Most went wide, hitting the limbs. One went in the chest, the other caught it in the face. It smashed into the ground. One down. Five more were right behind it.

    The Mikas were shooting slightly downward. I noticed that more and more shots were getting lodged in the monster¡¯s backs. Sometimes fatal, sometimes not. One collapsed, its hind legs dead but still trying to drag itself closer with just its front paws.

    Did these things have a spine? I knew where you shot them mattered, and I could see they left a Hell of a mess when you blew them up, but were these actual, functioning biological organisms? I had assumed they were dolls, like the Awakened Souls.

    I didn¡¯t know a single thing about this cursed game world. I didn¡¯t know a single thing about the monsters. Black robe had said knowing the monster¡¯s background was vitally important, and not only did I not know, I didn¡¯t even know where to begin looking. I didn¡¯t even know what to be looking for.

    There was another plume of smoke coming from the woods. I knew at least one thing- the second wave was only getting started.

 Chap. 10- The Second Waveâ€™s Hidden Knife!

    They came piling out of the woods, churning up the charnel house remains of their comrades. Long, human hands supporting their four legged, leaping lope. Claw-fingers flexed like toes to launch the monsters up and over obstacles. Their horned heads screaming their hate and defiance at the sky. At the Tower. At me.

    But between me and them was a field full of stakes, a palisade wall, and my Awakened Souls.

    ¡±Targets Marked. Reloading.¡± Radz''s creepily flat voice now sounded confident and comforting. She was blasting them apart at the tree line, and in the long intervals between rounds, the stakes were slowing them down. The Mika¡¯s were able to focus their fire very nicely, burning down monsters well away from the palisade.

    I was a long way from cautious optimism, but the battle was flowing well. It was a numbers game now- could the monsters throw enough bodies at us, fast enough, to negate Radz thinning them out?

    The crack-boom of the mortar sounded, and the moonlight turned the monster¡¯s gore to black. I pounded the barricade in appreciation. She bagged three in one shot. Lots more coming in, but still. Three in one blow!

    ¡±Multiple targets marked. Designate priority.¡±

    Wait, what?

    I scanned the forest line. The same cold moon highlighted the stream of smoke marking the incoming monster. Except these weren¡¯t coming from the north-east. These were coming from the north-west. Forcing Radz to split her fire.

    I forced my mind past the shock. Make decisions or die! Find your inner wisdom of Shikimaru, while channeling the spirit of Deku and never give up!

    There are only ugly uncles waiting for losers. Winners get their pick of the Doki-Doki-Angels.

    ¡°Radz, focus fire on the new enemies to the northwest!¡±

    She had already thinned out whichever ones were coming from the north-east. I had no idea what her accuracy was like, but so far we weren¡¯t facing the same crush we did last night.

    ¡°Mikas, fire as they come! Versai, eyes up!¡±

    ¡±Yes, Tower Master!¡±

    Volley fire! I should teach her to volley fire. It might not make sense with only five Mikas, but right now, I wanted no gaps in the curtain of ranged death. I only had two melee combatants, and one of them was busy marking targets for the artillery.

    Every movie with massed archers that I had ever seen used volley fire. The Brits in Zulu used volley fire, and they were massively outnumbered! Must figure out a way to use that. Not that the monsters were giving me time.

    The monsters didn¡¯t need any invitation to rush in. Without Radz thinning fire, they came boiling out of the woods. It was faintly ridiculous watching them run through the stakes. Zig zagging. Like kids running wind sprints, or balls falling through a peg board.

    ¡°See everyone- there is a natural bell curve showing how many monsters will get through to rip your lungs out your ears.¡±

    The Mikas weren¡¯t any better at math than me- they just shot ¡®em as they came. Crossbows resting on top of their steel shields, cheeks welded to the stocks, they lined up their shots and fired.

    Two shots to the torso put down a monster, or one to the head. At extreme range, they didn¡¯t always get center mass. The monsters didn¡¯t stay at extreme range long.

    The Mika¡¯s were suddenly in a target rich environment. The heavy crossbows fired their glowing bolts with a steady ¡°Snap!¡± The tore open torsos, shattered shoulders. Shattered skulls.

    The monsters had something of a goat about their faces, and something of a bat. Every destroyed face felt like a lanced cyst. Better out than in. Infinitely better.

    It was working. The stakes, the artillery, the palisade, it was all working. So far, Versai hasn''t had to make a move.

    The mortar¡¯s crack-boom came shocking fast. My eyes whipped to the north-west. The monsters were already breaking out of the forest. They slammed into the stakes and started filtering through. It wasn¡¯t just Radz that would have to split her fire. The Mika¡¯s hadn¡¯t finished mopping up the first batch of monsters. More were still coming from the forest.

    I bit back the urge to yell something to Versai. She had this. I had to believe she had this. There were no useful orders I could give. Just¡­ hang on and trust your summons.

    No, wait! Debuffs. Movement rate debuffs. Of the repeatedly shot with crossbows variety. I can use debuffs!

    ¡°Mikas! If a monster is disabled but not dead, shoot a different monster. Only finish off the wounded when they pose an immediate danger to you or someone else!¡±

    ¡°Mika¡¯s here, you have nothing to fear!¡±

    I could see them shift their fire immediately. At extreme range, they weren¡¯t scoring a lot of kills, but they rarely missed entirely. By reprioritizing, I was able to slow the monster¡¯s advance yet again. Make ¡®em easier targets for Versai.

    Daddy plays his Bloons strictly on C.H.I.M.P.S mode. And yet you dare appear before me!

    Versai was starting to get into the mix too. She practically danced behind the Mikas, stabbing her long sword in the gaps between them, skewering any monsters trying to get over the jutting front of the wall. She made it look effortless, almost mechanical. Crouch, stab, crouch, stab. Over and over. Not many made it to the palisade and fewer made it up the palisade. She kept moving, but it was manageable so far.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Slow it all down. I squeezed my fist tight. I can¡¯t kill ¡®em any faster, so I have to slow down their rush. The mortar fired again. I smiled grimly, knowing that the strategy was working.

    Until I realized something was missing, some hole in the tapestry of violence.

    Something went wrong. I looked around wildly trying to figure out what it was, then I realized that Radz hadn¡¯t done her usual ¡°Reloading¡± bark.

    ¡°Radz, report!¡±

    ¡°No more targets in range. Mission complete.¡±

    I flinched. They were all out of the forest. It meant we were closing in on the end, but it also meant there would be a big blob of them coming all at once.

    ¡°Versai, expect a lot of company soon!¡± I cupped my hands to my mouth. ¡°Rache! Get over here and start hitting their flanks! Carve ¡®em up!¡±

    Fingers crossed she could hear me. Versai was moving faster now. The Mikas were doing their best, but they were getting overwhelmed. It was going to be down to Versai soon. I was trying to wait until the last possible second to trigger the Mikas¡¯ ult, if that¡¯s what it was. Once I did, they would be out of the fight. It had to be at the decisive moment!

    From out of the woods I heard a ghostly whiney, and the sound of distant noise pollution. Rache flew in on her ghostly motorcycle. She didn¡¯t slow down as she approached the sakes. She jumped. Jumped like a damn horse! She jumped and rode her bike right over the top of the stakes, leaping over the gaps.

    How?! How was she the same One Star level as Beka? How?

    She came whipping along the baying, slavering mob, cavalry saber flashing in the moonlight. White blade goes in, red blade comes out. She flayed their backs open. Collected heads. It was the damndest thing I had yet seen in this mad world. She was past the mob in a flash, then screeched to a halt. It took her an uncomfortably long couple of seconds to turn the bike around, then she was back in the mix.

    She rushed the mob again, but she had less time to build up speed. More time to line up her shots, I reckoned, but it didn¡¯t quite work out that way. She was landing the same number of hits, but doing less damage. Much less. I frowned.

    One of the wounded monsters reached up from where it was crawling and shredded her leg as she passed. Rache screamed, her buckskin pants torn apart as her bike slid to a stop and vanished. She started flailing at the monster with her saber. She might as well have been swinging a nerf bat for all the damage she was doing. And now other monsters were coming for her.

    ¡°Versai! Go pull out Rache! Keep out of the line of fire!¡±

    ¡°On it, Tower Master!¡±

    Versai launched herself over the wall and fell, collecting heads as she descended. She cut her way out and sprinted hard for my trapped scout. The monsters were coming up the palisades now, long fingers reaching, scratching against the Mika¡¯s shields. I tried to scan the field, count monstrous noses, but it was chaotic. Dark. Stakes broke up the light and the shapes of things everywhere.

    They were coming up over the lip. The Mika¡¯s could one-shot them at this range, but there were too many. They were reaching the top of the wall!

    ¡°MIKAS! DEFENSE! NOTHING GETS PAST YOU!¡±

    I was watching for it now. The Mika¡¯s squeezed together, shoulder to shoulder, their shields touching. The shields began to glow with a white light. I couldn¡¯t see their faces, but there was something about the way they held themselves. Something about the way they seemed to¡­ almost shiver.

    ¡°MIKA HOLDS THE LINE! MIKA HOLDS THE LINE! SAVE OUR FAMILIES AND RUN!¡±

    The sheer hate in those words. The realness of it hammered at me. The desperate terror in their voices. I didn¡¯t want to hear this. I didn¡¯t want to know this!

    The Mikas shot and shot and shot, not missing. Bolts flying out in falling waves of death, monstrous as a storm at sea. Heads exploded, backs exploded. They ripped through the monsters. Seeing¡­ some other place and time.

    The only time Mika remembered her family was in the most desperate heat of battle. When all was lost, and someone needed to hold the line. When the only one left to pay the price was the clumsy, slow, but endlessly brave, Mika.

    I cant. I just can¡¯t. I can deal if they are dolls! Be the damn dollies you are meant to be!

    ¡°You have never loved someone. Not the way these dolls love their families. Amazing- they are more real than you.¡± The intrusive thought wormed its way in. I did my best to pour salt on it and focus on the battle. I didn¡¯t really succeed.

    ¡°Oh No! Where¡¯s the ouchie?¡± Pammy scrambled into action, yanking out her bandages and starting to wrap the unconscious Mikas. Funny. I think they took more damage from the fall than from monsters. I¡¯d have to get the Judiths to fix that. I peeked through the palisade to see the state of things. Rache was back on her bike, zipping around and picking off the wounded. Versai was mopping up what few mobile monsters remained.

    A few seconds later, and it was done. First real wave, complete.

    We had won clean. No fatalities, only minor injuries. Injuries that would vanish after a little attention from Pammy. I don¡¯t think it could have gone any better, at least with what I knew about my summons.

    I collapsed on the ground. I¡¯d need to get the Judiths to make me a chair or something.

    ¡°Oof. Rough riding today. ¡®Fraid I need to see ole Doc.¡± Rache looked¡­ well if you liked your waifus tall, rangy and western themed, she looked fantastic. Youthful face with old eyes, slim but feminine, and there wasn¡¯t a speck of her own blood on her. Her pants were attractively shredded, and at some point some of her coat and shirt had been torn. Not torn away entirely, just torn.

    Their clothes show how much they are wounded. Versai mentioned that during the first summoning.

    Disheveled looked good on Rache. I had a feeling it would look good on all of them. My summons didn¡¯t bleed, but the monsters did. The summons had the sapience (not counting Versai) of a chimp, maybe less.

    Something prevented them from understanding things, and it wasn¡¯t always consistent about what or when. They couldn¡¯t remember their past, except under very narrow circumstances. And if the Mikas were anything to go by, that past was¡­ horrible.

    I forced myself not to look at Pammy. Forced myself to not remember the documentary. I mustn''t humanize the summons. That¡¯s what Versai said. It only brings misery. So what if they wrote a tragic backstory for the doll? So what? It was all a game world. All the developer¡¯s depraved imagination.

    It had to be. Had to be!

    Just what was this world? It was a game; that was obvious. I was supposed to play. Black Robe seemed to be both a player and one of the people running the game. Or at least his cousin was. But why? Why all this? Why kidnap people? Why rely on thirst trap ads for weebs and gambling addicts to pull recruits from?

    I didn¡¯t have enough facts. I could bang my head against it all I wanted, but I just didn¡¯t know enough. Deep breath. Time to be the Tower Master again. Wave Three was coming. I would need everything I had, and more. I stood up.

    ¡°Good job everyone! Now, who¡¯s got golden hands? I want to see what loot these monsters have for us!¡±

 Chapter 11- The Tower Beautiful

    Nobody volunteered. Apparently, none of my Awakened Souls had Golden hands. Though, I was curious to try something.

    ¡°Versai, do the monsters vanish as soon as you touch them?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much, why?¡±

    Damn. Well, this would be a challenge. Time to see if my muscles were all for show. I dug out one of my new ropes from the resource distribution depot (AKA a heap next to the gaping hole that was my front door) and tied it around the top of the Palisade.

    I still firmly approved of my ¡°No Gate¡± policy. Gate equals complexity, also equals weak point. Rache and Versai were the only two summons I planned to have operating outside the fence tonight, and neither of them would be stopped by a mere twenty foot spiked wall.

    Now. How exactly did they do the rappelling in Attack on Titan?

    I got the rope tied on fine, and I was brave enough to plant my feet against the wall, leaning back from the spikey, protruding bits that stuck out from the vertical bits. I knew that I would hop off, and then swing back to the wall, neatly avoiding woody facial abuse.

    I jumped off, loosening my hands to slide down the rope. Except I didn¡¯t do it enough, as when I swung back towards the wall, a huge pointy log was coming right for my face. I loosened my hands, tried to dodge, but I still caught some across my forehead. Reeling, I loosened my hands even more and leaned further back. This resulted in my falling even faster, smashing into the ground at speed.

    Fortunately, my landing was cushioned. Unfortunately, it was cushioned by gorey monster corpses, which exploded over me in a filthy, foul smelling wave. It took me a moment to recover from the sheer shock. I think I was stabbed a bit by some of the bone shards.

    I staggered to my feet, shrieking manfully. I flailed, trying to scrape monster entrails off of me. Then shrieking again when I realized all of this had happened in front of my summons. My very pretty, female-ish, summons. Who were all staring at me.

    I controlled my instant need to just jump in a hole and die of shame. It was close, but I held on. I decided to pretend like everything was fine. Just¡­ bluff. They are dumb. Bluff, and all shall be well. Please, Goddess, let them have short term memory problems!

    I reached over and touched a monster corpse. It was both leathery and hairy- mostly leathery skin, with upsetting patches and tufts of wiry hair. It was disgusting to look at, and not much better to touch. Did it smell? Of course it smelled. What it smelled like¡­ was harder to say. Animal, with sulfur and something else. Something almost tasted rather than smelled.

    It did not, however, vanish.

    Well. That was a horrible waste of effort and my limited supplies of dignity.

    ¡°Rache, go and pick up the monster loot. Remember where each body is in the forest and, if you can, mark where the mortar landed next to it on the map.¡±

    Rache looked confused. ¡°Rache is ready to ride?¡±

    ¡°Do your best.¡±

    ¡°Chromed lightning!¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Start with the furthest away corpses and work your way back. Versai, would you kindly vanish the bodies in my immediate area?¡±

    She smiled wryly. ¡°I have to give you credit for trying at least. Most don¡¯t even think to test. Though how you managed to fail at sliding down a rope I will never know.¡±

    Oh look, Versai could open the shame-death-hole right inside of me. It must be a hidden power move.

    ¡°Quick as you can, please, I don¡¯t think there is a shower in the Tower.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s a shower?¡± She asked, tapping away at the bodies. They vanished in a tiny flair of white light.

    Horrible thought, but I immediately understood. To need a shower, you would have to get dirty. We didn¡¯t sweat. We didn¡¯t bleed. I had yet to see an Awakened Soul covered in dirt or blood. And- yep. When Versai touched the monster-of-origin, I was immaculate again.

    My clothes weren¡¯t attached to me, but they were on my lower tier summons. I had my suspicions about Versai, but any exploration of that question, if it happened at all, would come after the relationship system unlocked. A long, long, LONG way after.

    I¡¯d prefer if we could just stay friends, honestly.

    Real talk? She was so pretty it kind of hurt. I sort of got used to it, to the point where I could look straight at her without choking, but it took focus. Fail to keep that focus, and you were wondering how it was possible to spin grace and the summer sun into hair, or how the true meaning of blue could only be found in the depths of her eyes.

    I don¡¯t think like that. It¡¯s not me. It doesn¡¯t feel good when it happens, because all I can think about is how I¡¯m not any of those things. I don¡¯t have cripplingly low self esteem. I made what peace I could with my spherical self, and my current body was Chad. But I¡¯m not on her level, and I know it.

    I can be friends with her, though. With time. And effort. A whole lot of effort. Having a built in relationship system was a comfort. Systems have rules. No guessing, just follow the rules and everything works out.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Ren¡¯ai-Shin willing, one day, we will be able to Netflix and absolutely-no-chill, where we watch the finest garbage and viciously trash talk it. There will be snacks, drinks, and absolutely nothing else. Happy thoughts.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying as many things as I can to improve our chances of passing the wall of the Fourth Wave. Speaking of, you said you only served one Tower Master who passed the third?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°How did he manage it?¡±

    ¡°Short answer? He dumped all his cut logs in a stack in front of the door and hid behind it with his non-combatant summons. He made a little platform at the top to shoot down from, for his one ranged attacker, and left me and a front line summons out in front. He figured that we would use our mobility to keep them from swarming us, and that we could eventually cut them down.¡±

    ¡°Huh. I guess it worked. Surprising, though. No offense, but I can''t imagine three summons, even if you are one of them, being enough to shut down an entire wave.¡±

    Versai waved her perfectly manicured, elegant hand. ¡°Your perspective is off because I¡¯m your only higher star damage dealer. You have seen how much more¡­ functional¡­ the Judiths are compared to the Mikas?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°He drew two Three Stars. One a scout with a rifle and a grappling hook that gave her incredible mobility, and the other a halberdier with decent armor. The three of us hit the monsters like a meat grinder.¡±

    ¡°Woah! But you got wiped out instantly in the fourth wave?¡±

    ¡°The poor fellow had underestimated both the numbers and increased mobility of the monsters in the third wave. They also possess a higher degree of initiative. Not much higher, but when we were outnumbered sixty to one, ¡°Not Much¡± was enough.¡±

    ¡°And he didn¡¯t draw anyone to replace the losses?¡±

    ¡°He drew¡­ the equivalent of Becky.¡±

    I forcibly stopped myself from imagining what must have happened from there. Given the weird way time worked here, I could imagine some very unpleasant things. Very. Instead, I clapped my hands.

    ¡°Moving on! Time for us to check the loot. Another flawless victory, and I want to see what the mission rewards will be.¡±

    First things first- the monster loot. Mostly crafting mats, I was unsurprised to see, though there was a decent pile of Runed Bones. Four hundred rune bones, free and clear. Nice. I¡¯d take it.

    Next- the wave reward. I tapped the little gold medallion first, this time. Wave #2, zero casualties, zero monsters in the tower. Reward: All units, +.5% Speed.

    Versai and I stared at the glittering thing, carefully trying not to make eye contact.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know how many waves there are. It could add up over time.¡±

    I appreciated her positivity. Waifus should be Tsundere or Moe, and she wasn¡¯t exactly either. Under the circumstances, if she couldn¡¯t be a Waifu, I would take ¡°Positive human being, or close to it.¡±

    ¡°Right. Every little bit helps.¡±

    She nodded the most perfect chin God ever created. ¡°Yes. You never know what might be the decisive difference in a battle.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    We stared a little longer.

    ¡°Shall we look at the rest of the loot?¡± Versai asked.

    ¡°God, yes.¡± I dug into the sacks, then muffled a gasp. More of the little fragments, and a full fifty Resonance Crystals.

    ¡°The tower isn¡¯t cheaping out! This is good stuff. A big stack of resource packs and stone tapes too!¡±

    ¡°Ten and sixty, respectively. This is immense!¡±

    I put the fragments into my pouch without much thought. This was, apparently, a happy mistake. My pouch started glowing and ringing with soft chimes. I opened it, and a swarm of the little fragments spun around in a cloud. There was a rising musical note, then a flash of ice-blue light. They fused into a pale blue Resonance Crystal, with a blurry face inside of it.

    ¡°Is this¡­ a crystal to summon a specific Awakened Soul?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen one before.¡± Versai¡¯s endlessly blue eyes went wide, her voice soft. ¡°So many new things with one Tower Master. Incredible.¡±

    ¡°Have they really all been so bad?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°The first draw is pure luck. Like I said, you got an extra summon there, but I chalk it up to Becky and don¡¯t count it. After that, the Tower Rewards after each mission start to have a growing impact, and they are based on performance.¡±

    She shrugged a geometrically perfect shoulder. ¡°I thought that losing one or two summons was standard. I have even had some Tower Masters that decided to fight the monsters inside the Tower- just stack them up on the stairs and force them to come one or two at a time.¡±

    She looked over at the medallion. I knew what she was looking at. ¡°Zero monsters in the tower.¡±

    ¡°I guess that was a mistake twice over.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a legit tactic, in fairness.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Have you ever stood above someone on the stairs and tried to stab them with a sword?¡±

    ¡°Er. No.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°It works on humans. Not so much on the monsters. We got slaughtered.¡±

    There were more rewards to collect from the missions of the day, and even some missions that I could still complete tonight. I laughed a little bit.

    ¡°Want to see another thing you have never seen before?¡±

    ¡°Alright?¡±

    I walked down to the ground level. It was still night, as I hadn¡¯t progressed to the next day. I walked around to the south side of the tower. I picked up a stick and started scratching in the dirt. Long, shallow furrows, then I scraped between the furrows. Just churning up a shallow patch of dirt about three feet square. I then took out a pack of seeds and scattered them over my new flower patch.

    The little square flashed with a pale green light, almost blinding in the darkness. I could see it suddenly looked quite orderly, if still a bit, well, square. I¡¯m not a garden guy. There was a watering can on a metal hook sticking out of the ground next to it. I picked up the can. Full. Of course. I started watering the garden.

    ¡°Tower Master¡­ this¡­¡±

    ¡°You said none of the others ever planted the seeds, right? Well, they seemed to have thought of most of the same tactics I did, but they all skipped this. So I won¡¯t.¡± I grinned, feeling something fierce rising up. ¡°I¡¯ve been breaking games since I was a kid. Watch me break this place with a geranium!¡±

 Chapter 12- The Important Difference Between Kawaii and Moe

    I finished off what few missions the board offered me, and examined the loot. It¡­ wasn¡¯t much, if I was honest. Stone tapes, resource packs and a few collectable tokens that would eventually become hats for summons I didn¡¯t have. Woo. There were materials too- Monster hide, monster claw, monster bone (distinct from Rune Bones, apparently), but the crafting area hadn¡¯t been unlocked yet.

    No, the real prizes were, one, keeping all my summons alive through the wave, two, the special crystal with the specified draw, and three, enough resonance crystals to bring me up to ninety.

    Now, gacha game designers think they are slick. They are all about the tease. Oh, you are almost there! Aaaalllllmost there. Just play a bit more. Maybe buy a resource pack. If you use our Elite Recruitment Orders (available only in the cash shop) you get a guaranteed S rank Hero with every hundred pulls.

    I just happened to almost have enough for two pulls? Sure. I believe you. So much. We will just see what tomorrow¡¯s scouting brings, shall we?

    Oh, interesting thought. Could¡­ Rache scout further thanks to the movement speed boost? It wouldn¡¯t be by much, but she was only One Star, and with limited XP. I¡¯d have to see.

    I went to the summoning pool and took a look at the crystal. It was the same size and shape as an ordinary resonance crystal, but it had a faint red halo around it. I felt that, somehow, the crystal was blushing. It was strangely kawaii. The picture of the girl-

    I stuck on the word for a moment. On the one hand, I was quite certain nobody on my side of the violence was ¡°human¡± in any biological sense. On the other hand, if these really were souls being shoved into golems, was ¡°girl¡± appropriate?

    The face was mischievous, with lively eyes. Fingers crossed. They couldn¡¯t be a One Star, right?

    Feeling the jinx trying to land on me, I quickly flung the crystal into the pool.

    ¡°Oh Great God Pachinko, protect me from bad pulls! Omni Omnia Omm! Great God Pachinko, protect me from bad pulls. Omni Omnia Omm!¡±

    Reciting the sacred chant, I carefully watched the changes in the mist. The ¡°awe inspiring¡± music was a little different. There was a livelier pace to it. More of an aahAAAhAoAAOOAOAOAaahhhIIII sound than a ooooowoooAaAaA. Well something like that. A form started emerging from the mist.

    ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate me! I¡¯m stronger now than I ever was!¡± There were three glittering stars over her head. I smiled warmly, and gave my newest recruit a proper looking over.

    Taller than Mika, shorter than Rache, but very slim all over. The features were young, but not Pammy young. Going to say¡­ seventeen-ish. Young looking eighteen, maybe. And cute as a button. Just something really excited in their face.

    Reddish-pink hair was pulled back and held in place with a pair of star shaped clips. She wore an olive drab ¡°military¡± jacket over a collared shirt (top three buttons left undone) and a knee length pleated skirt.

    The summons twirled a little black and white wand like a stage magician in her left hand. Her right hand¡­ had been left behind on some battlefield. The whole right sleeve was pinned up at her shoulder. I noticed there were colored bars on her chest. I couldn¡¯t read them, but¡­ didn¡¯t the army stick medals there?

    ¡°Welcome. Name and skills?¡±

    ¡°Kim reporting for duty! I¡¯m a fire mage, Tower Master, rear echelon support.¡±

    The difference in Star Level was huge. She seemed¡­ alive. Maybe not as alive as Versai, but it was night and day compared to someone like Pammy.

    ¡°Explain that a bit more?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I basically lack any direct attacks myself, but I can make everyone else¡¯s attack stronger, faster, or add fire damage, as well as weaken or negate fire based attacks. With the other members of my squad, we can give fighters True Damage for a while, as well as erect near unbreakable wards. Well, for short periods. Still, don¡¯t underestimate me. I¡¯m stronger than I look!¡±

    My gacha senses tingled. ¡°The other members of your squad?¡±

    She nodded firmly. ¡°Yes. Myself, our leader, Park, plus Lee and Choi. We called ourselves the Call to Arms Group.¡±

    Hah! Fun name. Sounds like a Korean¡­ boy¡­ band¡­

    Did... did I pull the Portal Fantasy equvalent of a Idol for some kind of USO organization? Is... is that what she is? Is that... a thing? Does Korea have Idol groups that just tour bases exclusively?

    ¡°Can you do anything that is useful to the Tower outside of combat?¡±

    Kim tilted her head to the side and thought it over.

    ¡°Well, I can sing. I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s useful, exactly, but people always loved watching us perform.¡±

    Great God Pachinko, are you testing me? Joke¡¯s on you, Korea has LOADS of female idol bands. Legions of them! There is definately at least one that fits this template!

    ¡°I¡¯m a great dancer too, but that¡¯s probably even less useful.¡±

    LEGIONS OF THEM!

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Welcome aboard, Kim. We can use all the help we can get, and somehow I just know you can perform under pressure.¡± I didn¡¯t let my eyes go to that empty sleeve or the medals on her chest.

    Nothing left to do. ¡°Advance to the next day.¡±

    Unnaturally refreshed and raring to go, I walked over to the missions. Time to see what the day would bring.

    Hmm. Send someone to scout- I was going to do that anyway. Resource harvesting? Ditto. Oh? What¡¯s this? There was a mission, already completed, to add an ¡°improvement¡± to the Tower. Nice to be ahead of the curve. Let¡¯s see¡­ raise an Awakened Soul¡¯s level to ten.

    Ah. Tricky. I need to be in the Hall of Records to see what level they were. It wasn¡¯t marked as complete though, so I hadn¡¯t fed enough XP to a unit to level them to ten. Was the Hall of Records open yet? No, Versai said after Wave Three.

    The obvious solution was just pick someone and feed them XP, of course, but I didn¡¯t want to throw off the team balance too much.

    Screw it. I needed to order a scouting mission anyway. ¡°Rache, front and center!¡±

    Rache appeared, looking none the worse for wear after last night. Her clothes had all been repaired. Don¡¯t ask me how a bandage invisibly repaired tasseled buckskin, because I don¡¯t know. It just did. Gacha logic.

    ¡°Just another rodeo. Rache is ready to ride.¡± I took a long moment looking at her. She had those glassy eyes I had started associating with One-Stars. Lights are on, no one¡¯s home.

    Rache was pretty, in her fashion. Kawaii? Not really. Not for me at least. But the way she throws herself into everything with laconic enthusiasm was charming. That sense of being capable, while also loving life. She might not be Kawaii, but she was plenty Moe.

    ¡°How many Stone Tapes have you had already?¡±

    She tilted her head to the side. ¡°Just another rodeo?¡±

    I handed her a Stone Tape. It vanished in a tiny flash of light. ¡°I think that¡¯s three,¡± I muttered.

    In the end, it only took six more Stone Tapes to level her up to Level Ten. A fact I only knew because the mission was suddenly marked as complete. I didn¡¯t know why it took nine Tapes. If we all lived through the night, maybe I would find out. I had hoped there would be some costume change, or a new skill or something. No such luck.

    I sighed, but pressed on. The tower was, according to the map room, at the far eastern end of the map. Not all the way east, there was a good strip of land between us and the end of the world, but most of the way. Our ¡°Front Door¡± faced west. There was a good bit of land North and south of us, but the overwhelming majority of the map was to the west. Rache had barely put a dent in the world with her scouting. Time to push out a-ways. More importantly, time to cover our rear.

    ¡°Rache, Scout the area to the east of the tower. How much time would you need to search your maximum range?¡±

    ¡°Aww, my ¡®lil filly loves to run. I¡¯ll get it done in one,¡± she nodded, putting a finger to the brim of her cavalry hat.

    Nice!

    ¡°Right. Search your maximum range East of the Tower!¡±

    ¡°Chromed Lightning! And she was off.

    ¡°Judiths!¡±

    ¡°Tear it down or put it up, we can get it done!¡±

    ¡°Tree cutting duty. Clear as much wood as you can around the tower, not just in front of the west door. Once they are cut, turn the trees into cut lumber. Time needed?¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a One job, boss!¡±

    ¡°Great! Get to it.¡±

    I rubbed my hands, waiting for Rache to return. I wanted to save my extra orders, in case there was a nearby expedition. Hmm¡­ I still had those herbs, right? Could I replant them?

    ¡°Kim, are you any good at gardening?¡±

    The question seemed to confuse her. She tilted her head to the side? ¡°Is it show time?¡±

    Ah hell. She had been doing so well. Three Stars is half way to Six, huh?

    ¡°Never mind.¡±

    She smiled and looked away, humming happily.

    While Rache was coming back, I looked over the battlefield. The addition of Kim should increase our kill rate, but we would be facing more, and more durable, monsters than ever before.

    The ¡°Slow them down, shoot ¡®em up¡± tactic had been working so far, but it really relied on them being willing to charge straight at us, more or less in a narrow column. They were already coming from two directions, making us split our artillery fire. It wasn¡¯t that much of a stretch to imagine more of them coming at once, spread out in a thinner, wider, line. It¡¯s what I would do if I was the attacker, anyway.

    I mean, who hasn¡¯t clicked a ¡°loose formation¡± button in a RTS? Limiting ranged damage is what it¡¯s for.

    Thank you Total War- Shogun 2. You may be the only reason I make it out of here alive.

    I saw Versai, lying bonelessly on the firing platform behind the Palisade. Watching the clouds, or maybe just remembering.

    ¡°Wondering if you are going to have a new boss the next time you see the sun?¡± I asked, feeling a bit morbid.

    ¡°Assuming I will. I¡¯ve gotten good at not hoping.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t mind if I do, do you?¡±

    ¡°No, no, go right ahead. You have definitely been one of the more interesting Tower Masters. Keep up the hust- Oh my goodness, is that KIM?¡±

    She jumped off the palisade. ¡°Kim! It is so great to see you. We never met, but I am a huge fan of your music!

    ¡°Hahaha! Always happy to meet a fan. I love to put on a show- I¡¯m so glad you enjoyed it.¡±

    ¡°I always wished I could see Call To Arms reunited again- I bet you just SLAY.¡±

    My hand to God, Pachinko, are you trying to screw with me? ARE YOU?!

    Rache came blowing up in a cloud of dust, barely coming to a stop inches from me. ¡°Boss, you got to come and see this!¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t ¡°come and see¡± anything,¡± I ground out. ¡°What is it I need to see?¡±

    ¡°I found a ruin site, boss, an ancient ruin!¡±

    I blinked. ¡°Good. Good for you. Well done. Versai?¡±

    ¡°Little pockets of twisted space, holding bits of¡­ an old place. Sometimes part of a city or the countryside. Sometimes stranger places. Very rare, VERY valuable. I have never seen one completed, as you can go back there on multiple days. Every Tower Master who found one died before they could finish the exploration. And¡­ uh¡­¡± She smiled awkwardly. ¡°Not to contradict you, but they are one of the few places a Tower Master can go, away from the Tower.¡±

    Rache is the most Kawaii. And really damn Moe.

 Chapter 13- The First Dungeon Crawl

    I froze. The numbers sprinted through my head. Five orders, then it¡¯s night and the battle starts on its own timer. I have used two orders- one to have the Judith''s clear trees and make cut boards, one to have Rache go explore.

    I needed at least one, and probably several, orders to improve defenses around the Tower before tonight¡¯s battle. This was it. Number Three. The record stopped here. I had the existing defenses, and whatever improvements I could make out of the fresh cut wood. I have more combat effectives than previous Tower Masters¡­ probably¡­ though almost all of them are One Star. Was it enough by itself? Or did I need a trap card?

    There is only one real answer to that question.

    ¡°How long do expeditions take?¡± I looked over to Versai.

    ¡°Like I said, it takes multiple days to clear, but you can do it in pieces. One at the minimum, shortest possible expedition, barely gets you past the gate but you can get a feel for the ruin. Three is the longest I saw someone try. You don¡¯t find much with one, but it¡¯s pretty safe. We all died when we tried Three.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like you went pretty deep.¡±

    ¡°Yes, although that one was kind of odd to me. The places are usually cities, or a university or a church or something like that. This was a stretch of desert.¡±

    ¡°Eh? Rad scorpions got you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what those are, but no. We just got horribly sick and died.¡±

    ¡°Died¡­ how?¡± I tilted my head. ¡°Wait, how do Awakened Souls even get sick? You don¡¯t have organs or, for that matter, blood. Right?¡±

    ¡°We aren¡¯t that close yet.¡±

    Huh. Interesting. She went kind of glassy when she said that. Must be gated behind the relationship system.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how else to describe it, other than we got sick. Everyone got dizzy, started shivering and shaking, then fell on the ground. I remember the sand was like glass. Big pieces of it. Hard and smooth.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, the sand was like glass? As in, it was in big solid pieces?¡±

    ¡°I know it sounds crazy but-¡±

    ¡°I know how you died.¡±  I shook my head. These missions just shot WAY up the danger curve.

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing the words ¡®Gamma radiation¡¯ don¡¯t mean much.¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± She shook her head, the silken perfection of her blond hair tracing her confusion through the unworthy air.

    ¡°A special kind of curse. You only found that in one place?¡± Fingers crossed.

    ¡°Yes, the Tower Master decided to gamble three actions on the investigation, and we marched deep into the desert. Perhaps there was something in those buildings and bunkers we passed, but he was adamant that the good stuff would be deeper in.¡±

    ¡°Hokay! One time unit it is. Any restriction on who can go?¡±

    ¡°Not that I know.¡±

    I had used two units. One for the expedition, then two for defenses. This worked. And I frankly would trade my pinky toes for the chance to be somewhere not-this-tower, even if it was White Sands.

    Wait¡­ it couldn¡¯t actually be White Sands, could it? It¡¯s got to be some in-universe thing, right?

    Great God Pachinko, bless me today. May my hands be always gold and never cack. Please make this a raid on the National Iridescent Clarion Crystal repository, still full of Six Starred waifus waiting for me. Please and thank you.

    I called up the expedition screen. There was a new field- Team Lead. My picture was in it.

    Well. I assume that¡¯s me. I had never seen the face before.

    ¡°Is there¡­¡± I tried to think if there was a mirror or something, anything, in the tower that I could look into, try and see my face. This wasn¡¯t just my old body made strong, this was an entirely new face. A new face! They put me in a doll body! They put me in a DOLL BODY! What the-

    I shivered.

    ¡°Whoa, sorry, lost my train of thought there. Okay, I can take up to five people. Let¡¯s go with¡­ Versai, Rache, Kim, and¡­ Versai, how much fighting goes on in these raids?¡±

    ¡°Variable. From none to constant.¡±

    Damn. Hmm. Tough one. Couldn¡¯t bring Radz, she was useless at short range. I didn¡¯t want to bring the Mikas, as they had shields but were slow. The Judiths were obvious choices, but to give them two fifths of my slots? And when you get right down to it, the only person I could bring that could stand and fight was Versai. Rache clearly needed speed to do any damage at all. Literally any.

    I sighed. Split the baby? Sure, why not. I added Mika to the list and it didn¡¯t change the expedition time. Thank heaven for small mercies, etc. Neither did Judith.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Launch expedition!¡±

    There was a blur and a lurch and suddenly it was night and we were trapped in a burning street.

    ¡°Form up on me! Judith, stand right next to me and don¡¯t move around without orders. Versai, front and center. Mika, you cover our back. Kim, on my other side. Buff our fighters. Rache, you see any enemies?¡±

    Kim smiled and twirled her wand across her fingers. Little crescents of fire started trailing the wand tips.

    ¡°Free running, boss. Looks like easy riding.¡±

    I took a more careful look. We were on cobblestones. Some torn out of the ground, most in good condition. We were in a dense urban area. Not to sound like a snob, but it was very ¡°Generic ¡®What The Japanese Think Medieval Europe Looked Like¡¯ aesthetic.¡± I can¡¯t critique- I actually liked the look. It just felt low effort. Apparently someone agreed, because the buildings next to us were all on fire. All the buildings, the whole length of the street, were burning down. I could smell the smoke, feel the heat, I could hear the fire roar and crackle. And yet, looking closely-

    ¡°Am I going crazy, or is nothing actually burning?¡±

    Kim cast her spell, and everyone¡¯s weapons glowed an unsubtle red. ¡°It is burning, and it isn¡¯t.¡± Kim said.

    ¡°Kim¡¯s right. I can see where it¡¯s charred, and I can see things that are ashes, but nothing appears to be burning right this minute. But I don¡¯t think it¡¯s an illusion. Some kind of strange magic?¡± Versai suggested. I didn¡¯t have a better idea.

    ¡°Kim, can you do anything about the fire?¡±

    ¡°Mmm. I¡¯m not sure. With your permission, I will try to suppress a small bit of it.¡±

    I mentally circled the words ¡°A bit,¡± but nodded. ¡°Go for it.¡±

    Kim spun her wand, fingers flicking the slim stick over and over, fast enough that it looked like a propeller spinning flames. There was a moment of rising smoke and fire- then the flames burst apart. We had a tunnel into the building.

    Support mages were moving straight up my favorite lists. Still not as high as the Judiths, but getting there.

    ¡°It won¡¯t stay open long!¡±

    ¡°In, in!¡±

    We rushed through the gap and through the door. Into what, I¡¯m not sure. There was a long bar made of some dark, polished wood at one end of the room. There were small tables dotted around the room, each with two, or at most four, chairs around them. The floors were wide boards, way wider than anything I was used to seeing in a modern house. There were¡­ I¡¯m guessing oil lamps¡­ on the walls. Painted on the ceiling was a wild garden of blue roses. The blue rose motif was echoed on the table tops, and behind the bar.

    The bar looked empty- all the bottles off the shelf or smashed. Chairs had been kicked over, tables shoved around, broken glasses and bottles on the ground. People got out fast, but it looks like no one died, and they managed to empty the bar first. Or was it empty already? Maybe they were drinking the last of it when they ran?

    ¡°Eyes up everyone. Rache, search the room.¡±

    ¡°Chromed lightning.¡± She nodded. It was interesting to see her work. She seemed to walk normally, but, somehow, it was far faster than a human should have been able to move at a walking pace. Her hands blurred as they gently sorted through broken glass. Her wooden heeled boots didn¡¯t thump or clack as she checked behind the bar, lifted rugs, and tested the knobs on the doors.

    Versai was keeping her eyes moving around the room, but I could see her head tilting up again and again.

    ¡°Versai?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the Blue Roses.¡± She murmured. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it. It¡¯s not a threat.¡±

    ¡°Memories?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±

    I shrugged.

    ¡°Rache?¡±

    ¡°Tumbleweeds, boss. Two doors- one through the back, one off to the side.¡±

    I nodded. It wouldn¡¯t be an expedition if we found treasure in the first room. ¡°Check the side room. Mika, Versai, cover her.¡±

    She nodded and walked over, pulling it open. They got set around the door. Rache yanked it open, then darted back.

    There was a tense moment waiting. Then another. Nothing.

    Rache eased her way over, carefully checking as she went. Eventually she slipped into the room. A couple of minutes later-

    ¡°It¡¯s all clear.¡±

    I walked over and took a look. Supply closet. Didn¡¯t look like there was food or drink in there. I could see where crates had been dragged out. ¡°Judith, anything in there worth taking?¡±

    ¡°Not that would be worth the hauling.¡±

    ¡°To the back door then. Leave this one open to show that we searched it. That¡¯s the rule now- closed door means the room hasn¡¯t been checked or searched. Open door means it has. No opening a door unless it¡¯s to search the room. Got it?¡±

    There was general agreement with this. We trooped back over to the other door, formed up, and Rache popped it open. I saw her body tense just before she smashed backwards into Versai¡¯s shield.

    Versai swore and shoved her away, trying to reset. An enormous man, seven feet at the shoulder came barreling into the room. His height had to be measured at the shoulder, he had no head, no shirt, and talons where his feet should be. Didn¡¯t seem to slow him down any. A fist the size of a bunch of bananas came pounding down at Versai. She barely got her shield up in time to deflect it.

    Rache was on her feet again, slashing uselessly with her saber. I could see it now- she was making contact, but the blade had all the force of a swung feather. Just a One Star. This was why. ALL she can do is scout, and do high speed melee attacks.

    ¡°Rache, go to the back of the room, then make a running slash! Repeat until he¡¯s dead. Mika, move to support Versai. Kim, buff everyone. Judith, stay back here with me. Versai- Kill him!¡±

    Kim spun her wand, and the little flicks of flame darted out, landing on everyone¡¯s weapons. There was a heavy thunk as Mika planted her shield down. The dolly was smarter than I thought- she angled it to cut off the room to the monster¡¯s left side. Boxing him in a little. Keeping him away from the civilians behind her.

    There was a heavy twang, and a blazing white bolt lodged in the monster¡¯s chest. Little licks of flame danced up from it, still burning. Sizzling the flesh around the wound. It was eerie- there were no roars or bellows. All the noise was on our side. It just focused on killing.

    Well. It just had to get past Versai first. And Versai wasn¡¯t having it. She hit the monstrous thing like a real Iron Chef- chop, chop, chopping up today¡¯s challenge. A talloned foot came in for a kick- she swayed to one side and hacked the leg open. Fist came sweeping in? It was deflected with the shield, then hacked away at the elbow.

    I had insisted on fighting my battles at range- why risk a melee? Versai hadn¡¯t had a chance to show what she could do. Watching the armored embodiment of the phrase ¡°out of your league¡± dismember a seven foot gigachad inspired some very mixed feelings. Some¡­ definite¡­ well, I don¡¯t need to work out, and my diet is strict these days, but¡­ damn. Positive thoughts, positive thoughts. We are winning this fight.

    Versai suddenly went down on one knee, almost dropping her sword. I could see some spell effect swirling around her. Moving bonelessly from behind the enormous man, a second monster appeared.

 Chapter 14- By The Sign of the Dancing Ponygirl

    The monster flowed like a dancer drifting across the stage. It looked like¡­ well, a dancer. A beautiful woman¡¯s figure- slim, long legged, her pleated skirt reaching just below her knees and the sleeves of her long sleeved shirt stopped just before her delicate fingers. The cuffs of the shirt were very wide, I noticed, dyed yellow with blue roses embroidered on them. Her face was covered with a porcelain mask. A single blue horse was drawn on it.

    She was stunning. And plainly a monster. From her long fingers spun a tracery of blue magic, slowing Versai. Another covered the headless monster with a blue glow. She cast with wide sweeping gestures, her yellow sleeves fluttering like banners. It wasn¡¯t lively, like Hare Hare Yuuki, it was more sad, somehow.

    ¡°She¡¯s a support type! Rache, new target- hit the support type! Kim, can you do anything to stop her casting?¡±

    ¡°That wannabe backup dancer? Sure. I won¡¯t be able to buff while I¡¯m doing it though.¡±

    ¡°Do it!¡± Versai was winning the duel with the giant, and Mika was punching holes in him like a machine. They would win this, so long as an unforeseen variable didn¡¯t pop up. Like a support type.

    Kim bolted from my side, wand spinning. She lunged right into the dancing monster¡¯s face. The spinning wand danced with its red flames, seemingly blinding the masked adversary. The monster leaned back and tried to brush away the wand. Kim slid to one side, then was right back in front of ¡°her.¡±

    I got a front row seat to a dance off. It was the damnedest thing I had seen since coming here.

    Kim didn¡¯t let having only one arm slow her down. She twisted and stretched, shifting her body around from the tips of her toes all the way up to the top of her head. There was a pumped up energy to her movements. I don¡¯t know how to describe it- the closing credits to Jujitsu Kaisen more than ballet? You wouldn¡¯t call it ballroom. Not when she was that aggressive. Kim was constantly invading the other dancer¡¯s space, never quite touching her.

    The masked monster was trying to evade Kim without touching her either. She was more smooth in her motions- she swept her sleeves out and around, folding forward and crouching, standing all the way up and leaning back so far, it had to be magical. I think she was trying to distract Kim long enough to buff the brute.

    She swept and twisted and writhed, and- hand on my heart, it was beautiful. Hot as hell, but beautiful. She was anything but a backup dancer. She had that sakuga.

    It was just possible that my newest doll might be a touch catty. Cute as could be. But catty.

    Versai wasn¡¯t cute. She was bulling through whatever the debuff was. Her shield turned into an offensive weapon. Rather than just deflecting blows, she pushed the brute¡¯s hands open wider and jammed the sword home. She bashed with the shield edge.

    Her blade sunk into the brute¡¯s feet, into its knees. Mika was contributing, but it was very clear Versai could have soloed this whole fight. She wasn¡¯t just stronger than the brute, wasn¡¯t just better equipped, She was the better fighter.

    Every time I thought I had a grip on what made Six Stars special, Versai showed me another layer. This wasn¡¯t a question of raw stats. The way the clawed hands slid off the shield, the way her sword dove in and out of the monster like a seabird fishing¡­

    I tried to think of who she looked like. It wasn¡¯t like Saber. Saber was overwhelming strength more than finesse or skill. Maybe someone from Samurai Champloo or Vinland Saga or something.

    Ah. Vinland Saga. That¡¯s it. She¡¯s been fighting forever. Seen so much horror and death, this doesn¡¯t even phase her. It¡¯s just another day in her life. She¡¯s not even going to remember this mook. The memory will wash away, like the blood off her blade. Blood washing away blood.

    Are¡­ all the Six Stars like this?

    The brute¡¯s death was anticlimactic. Versai smashed her shield into its chest, tore open its guts, and that was that. It fell over in a spray of gore. Rache suddenly appeared behind the dancer and hacked down with her saber, sending the head flying. Pretty blue hair, I noticed, even matted with black blood.

    Rache had been running around the room to build up some speed. Guess it was enough.

    ¡°Check the hallway is clear!¡± I barked. Trying not to think about the fact that I just saw what looked like a human decapitated, and on my orders.

    Rache zipped past Versai, managed to not slip on the bloody floor, and carefully peeked down the hallway. She then opened the door wide, stepped back towards me and reported.

    ¡°No banditos in sight. Range is free and clear.¡±

    I took a moment to compose myself. My summons were fine. I checked everyone over. Judith looked mildly interested in all that was going on, but otherwise fine. Kim looked like she had just had a vigorous salon sesh and was ready for her fans.

    Mika, likewise, was ready to rock. Well, no, not ¡°rock,¡± she was fidgeting and fussing with her shield, but that was her idle loop. She was fine. Versai¡­ flicked the blood off her sword like an absolute beast, sheathed it, tossed her perfect blond hair over her perfect shoulders, and looked like Odin¡¯s favorite valkyrie.

    ¡°Anyone injured?¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°I took some dings, but nothing serious.¡± Versai reported.

    ¡°Little road rash never slowed me down!¡± Rache agreed. Everyone else was fine.

    ¡°Judith, loot the bodies please.¡±

    The meaty man dissolved in a flash of light, leaving behind a card with a picture of a helmet. It looked like one of the bits of starting loot the devs had provided and I hadn¡¯t yet found a use for. Most of ¡®em were tied to specific summons. What was this?

    Kingdom¡¯s Armory- Vaspevania Guardsman¡¯s Helmet. Usable by- Direct Damage. Armor +3.

    It was a gray tier item- trash. I guess Armor +3 wasn¡¯t a lot. On the other hand, it was +3 more than zero.

    ¡°Who here is direct damage?¡±

    ¡°Mika is.¡± Mika piped up, looking worried.

    ¡°Anyone else? Versai?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m vanguard. Different thing. They are called ¡°direct damage¡± but ¡°ranged¡± might be an easier way to think of it.¡± She shook her eye-searingly beautiful head. ¡°But they are also different from artillery. Why, I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Right. Mika, this is for you.¡± I handed the card over to her. It turned into a round, flat helmet in her hand, and she set it on her head. Painted steel- it reminded me of those Doughboy helmets from WWI.

    Did the helmet go with the white jacket with useless straps and dangly bits, soft white turtleneck underneath and a short skirt over thigh high boots that made up the rest of her look? It did not. She looked even more lost than before, but still game to try. Mika, with her pavise shield and World War One style helmet¡­ it all kind of fit thematically. You could imagine her peeking out of a trench.

    ¡°Here¡¯s what the other one had.¡± Judith handed me a crystal. I had to suppress a gasp. It glowed with a faint blue color, a blurry face inside.

    ¡°A directed summons crystal. One battle, one enemy and we got a directed summons crystal and armor. No wonder those other Tower Masters would risk it all in these dungeons. This is a treasure trove!¡±

    ¡°Ancient ruin. This is a bar, not a dungeon.¡± Versai corrected. She then muttered. I didn¡¯t quite catch it, but it sounded like ¡°Sort of a bar.¡±

    I mentally sighed. ¡°Everyone squared away? We find everything here? Good. Let''s press onto the next room.¡±

    We marched the whole six steps to the next door. I brought everyone in for a huddle. Given the noise of the fight earlier, secrecy should be a non-factor, but I didn¡¯t want to potentially miss out on exploiting some dumb AI.

    Who had two thumbs and had played all the Rainbow Six games? This guy. Time to see if those room clearing tactics were as legit as advertised.

    I gave my orders in a whisper.

    ¡°Here is how we do this.¡± I checked the hinges. ¡°The door opens inwards, knob¡¯s on the right. Rache, you stand on the right of the door, back to the wall. When I give you the signal, you reach over, turn the knob and open the door as quickly as you can, keeping your back to the wall.¡±

    I pointed where I wanted everyone to stand. ¡°Versai- you are shield up, directly in front of the door. Kim, back and right of Versai. Your job is to keep her buffed and the enemy debuffed, assuming there is one. Mika, you are back and right as well, directly in front of Kim.¡±

    I didn¡¯t like the words ¡°as a human wall¡± but it was what I was thinking. ¡°Judith, you can back up a few paces and also keep your back to the wall.¡± Was everyone where they needed to be? I think so. Best I could come up with, anyway.

    ¡°Mika, DO NOT FIRE unless given orders. Understood?¡±

    ¡°Mika understands!¡± She nodded firmly. I didn¡¯t know if there was a friendly fire mechanic in this game. I did know I didn¡¯t want to find out with no medic handy.

    ¡°Same to you, Rache, stay put unless ordered.¡±

    ¡°Got it, Boss.¡±

    I¡¯m about to order a room cleared. I have them set up like they were SWAT, and we are about to clear a room. My heart should be racing. The blood should be pounding in my ears. I should be short of breath.

    I looked over a Rache. ¡°Open on three. One. Two.¡± I slashed my fingers down, pointing at the door. ¡°Three.¡±

    Rache twisted the knob and shoved. The door swung open and Versai bulled into the room. I could hear a smashing noise- sounded like one of those headless guys. Kim started casting, making it look elegant and fun. Based on the racket, not to mention the repeated, meaty, chunking noises, it sounded like it was going all Versai¡¯s way.

    I caught Mika¡¯s eyes, and pointed down the hall where the unopened doors were. I didn¡¯t want anything sneaking up on us. I worried for nothing. There wasn¡¯t even a hint of movement in the hall. Eventually the chunk noises stopped in the little room.

    ¡°Versai?¡±

    ¡°All clear. You should probably come in.¡±

    Well that sounded ominous. ¡°Mika, keep watch.¡±

    I went in to see what was troubling Versai. She looked a little scuffed, but basically fine. ¡°How are you holding up?¡±

    ¡°Fine. Between Kim¡¯s buffs and the big guy being trapped in this small room, it wasn¡¯t anything too hard. Just got my shield up and got stabbing. Take a look at this room, though.¡±

    I looked around. A comfortable double bed, a small wardrobe, a washbasin and cloth, a little vanity with a small mirror on it. It was pretty simple, very clean, and if dimly lit, well, I could understand that. The red curtains were a nice touch. Contrasted well with the blue rose painted on the wall. Nice to see people caring about aesthetics and design even in a dungeon.

    ¡°What am I not seeing?¡±

    ¡°Look in the wardrobe.¡±

    There was a single dress hanging in there. Powder pink, flattering, with trailing yellow sleeves.

    ¡°Huh. Some kind of uniform for the bar?¡±

    ¡°Sort of. I don¡¯t want to talk about it. Look, just touch it.¡±

    I did.

    Special costume- Blue Rose Red. Adds +5 to all stats, plus an additional +5 per stat when deployed with other Blue Roses of Gradden March, per Blue Rose Awakened Soul. +10 to all stats when deployed with Carousel. Exclusive to Becky.

    I flashed back to the only completely useless summons in the tower. What was it she kept saying? You are my boss, but not the boss of me? Something like that. So just who, or what, was Carousel? And just what was Becky?

 Chapter 15- Omae Wa Mou Shindeiru

    ¡°Versai, what do you know about the Blue Roses of Gradden March?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± Which was a funny thing to say, given the way the limpid, cerulian ponds of her eyes practically begged to talk about it.

    ¡°Can you talk about any part of it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about any part of it.¡±

    I paused and thought a minute.

    ¡°Would you like to talk about Becky?¡±

    ¡°Ordinarily no! Right now, though? Yes.¡±

    ¡°Is there anything in particular-¡±

    ¡°No. And that¡¯s the thing. Nothing. She is completely useless. I haven''t seen any evidence from anyone or anything anywhere that would ever suggest she was anything other than a waste of Resonance Crystals. So I am very, VERY confused about what this dress is doing here, what this bar is doing here, what I am doing here!¡± She was practically panting now. ¡°Although I don¡¯t want to talk about any of the things related to this bar specifically or the Blue Roses generally!¡±

    Got it. Gated behind the relationship system and also new information to Versai. Ain¡¯t gacha games grand?

    ¡°Understood.¡± I groped for something smooth to say, but drew a blank. The seconds were ticking closer to making this awkward. ¡°Are you able to keep on fighting? I want to clear this bar before we have to go back. Get more information, get more loot, put us in the best condition for the wave.¡±

    Well now I sound like a cold blooded prick. Amazing to think that running my business through chatbots and AI newsletters didn¡¯t prepare me for comforting 3-D people.

    ¡°Good idea. And yes, I¡¯m fine. Even if I leave here on a single thread of life, Pammy will be able to heal me up before the wave tonight.¡± She gave me the world¡¯s most lovely grim smile.

    ¡°Good to have that confirmed. Alright, loot the body and let''s get set for the next room.¡±

    Total loot- a copy of the helmet we already found for Mika, and the dress. The room was empty, otherwise. I asked about taking the bed and the curtains, but apparently they just turned into trash when you left the dungeon. I had a sneaky suspicion that the Tower would only accept items brought in through the store. Well. I¡¯d figure it out.

    The next two rooms were the same- one big, headless monster for Versai to burn down, one dress on a rack, and one piece of armor for a Mika or Mika equivalent. Each room was identical to the first- the same nice bed, same picture of blue roses, same wardrobe, same mirror, even. The only difference was the color of the curtains. Pink, sky blue, a sort of light green I was going to call ¡°seafoam,¡± and a rich, warm tan.

    I smelled a setup. Versai did too, if the expression on her face was anything to go by. ¡°Elemental Type,¡± she said.

    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think I know about that yet.¡±

    ¡°Kim is fire type. Mika is earth type. I''m an earth type. Good rule of thumb- shield equals earth type. Not always, but a lot. I think the Judiths are¡­ I want to say also earth type, showing there are exceptions, and I am pretty sure Rache is an air type.¡±

    ¡°Is Pammy a water type?¡±

    ¡°No idea.¡± Versai shrugged. ¡°There are a lot of Awakened Souls. I¡¯m amazed I can remember any of the details.¡±

    We had reached the end of the short hallway. Versai was still basically fine. She had gotten the hang of fighting the headless monsters. Apparently they were very predictable once you understood the pattern. All that was left was the final door.

    Unlike the others, this one had a discreet brass plate on it reading Private. There was a cane backed chair next to the door. A place for a guard to sit, I thought. Keep away patrons who might be ¡°lost.¡±

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m expecting this room to be different. By my count, we are missing two of the support ladies.¡± Versai snorted at the word ¡°ladies.¡± I ignored her. ¡°So my guess is that there is either one very large headless man in there with two of the supporters, or many of the headless guys, or some combination of the two.¡±

    Versai nodded at that, and I think Kim was following as well. As for the rest of the crowd, I might as well have been talking to myself. Well. Whatever. Versai was hard carrying this team regardless. I don¡¯t think my basic team composition was bad, given what I knew, but it was far from optimal. Actually, I didn¡¯t have the right Awakened Souls for ¡°optimal.¡± Fun.

    ¡°Alright, short version? If there is one big guy, we rush into the room. Versai pins him down, while Rache, Mika and Kim focus on killing the supporters. Yes, Kim, I know you can¡¯t directly attack. The distraction routine will be perfect, thank you.¡±

    ¡°Can do, Boss!¡±

    ¡°Never fear, Mika is here.¡±

    ¡°Chromed lightning!¡±

    ¡°Yes, thank you. We will call that Plan A. Plan B is, if there are a lot of them, we use the door as a bottleneck. It will take longer, but we will keep Versai buffed, the enemy debuffed, and Mika will slam in a shot where she can. Everyone else will stay out of it. Right. Positions!¡±

    We lined up. I patted Rache on the shoulder, and she pushed the door open. Versai took a single glance, and rushed into the room.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Plan A, GO, GO, GO!¡±

    The mini-boss was the same ¡®roided out headless muscle freak. He was, however, wearing a sharp looking Fedora where his neck should be. Tattooed over his heart was an elaborate blue rose.

    Damn. This mini-boss had style. Nothing quite matched a fedora for sheer class. I still had the ¡°Robin Hood Hat Of Questionable Swag +1¡± rocking.

    Fingers crossed the fedora was lootable. I was tired of ren fair clothes.

    The two supporters were there too- one in earth tones with a tan horse on her porcelain mask, the other decked in light green. Both wore long, fluttering yellow cuffs to their dresses, both sported embroidered blue roses.

    ¡°Alright just like we planned-¡± The headless freak jumped halfway across the room and slammed a ham-sized fist directly at Versai¡¯s button nose. She barely got her shield up in time. There was an enormous crash, and she slid back half way across the floor.

    This would not go just like we planned.

    It was all a mad scramble. Rache was zigzagging across the room trying to build up enough speed to make her saber do some meaningful damage. Versai was just trying to hang on, deflecting what she could and trying to slow the brute down with slashes to its legs and holes in its feet.

    Kim was engaged in a dance-off with the air type (my guess about what the foam-green was) while Mika kept trying to shoot the earth type in the head. She wasn¡¯t having much luck hitting her, but she was forcing her to keep moving. They were still getting the occasional buff of, but not often.

    I needed to change something up. The dancers were¡­ a little too fluid for anything creative. I looked around the room, trying to see if there was anything I could use. A desk, a couple of heavy chairs, an enormous portrait, oil lamps on the walls and desk. I knew I was missing things, but¡­

    I could work with this.

    ¡°Judith! Grab that chair and throw it at that supporter over there. Aim for her legs. It¡¯s okay if you miss, so aim low.¡±

    ¡°Err. Can do?¡± She awkwardly made her way over to the desk. Fortunately, the aggro was firmly locked down by my real combatants. Judith might not be a fighter, but she had plenty of muscle. She hucked that heavy chair clean across the room. I was hoping she would sweep the legs on the Earth type. No such luck.

    The Earth type supporter jumped up high, so high I thought she might hit her head on the ceiling. The long yellow cuffs fluttered as she fell back towards the earth. I cast around for a backup plan. Turns out that Plan A was all I needed.

    The Earth type was falling straight down. Couldn¡¯t be easier for Mika to hit. She buried a bolt in the monster¡¯s forehead, cold eyes peering down the bow from under her helmet. The monster managed to land on its feet, briefly. Rache¡¯s bright saber hacked the back of the dancer¡¯s neck open. She didn¡¯t quite manage a decapitation, but it really didn¡¯t matter. The Earth Type was dead as Hell.

    It all went very quickly after that. They burned down the Air type even faster, thanks to Kim keeping them mostly in place, then it was just a good old group beatdown on the hatted mini-boss.

    The guy was tanky as hell. Luckily there were no fatigue penalties. By the end of the battle, Versai was looking ravishingly disheveled. Badly in need of healing, in other words. But we had won.

    The loot was also more or less as expected- two directed summoning crystals in colors that matched the recovered dresses, and a common type helmet. No difference in effect, just slightly better stats. I frowned. It felt¡­ underwhelming, for a miniboss. I had a look around the room. There was a letter on the desk. Two small crates were on the floor. I¡¯d swear they weren¡¯t there a minute ago. Loot chests, then.

    ¡°Judith, collect whatever¡¯s in the chests.¡± I walked over to read the letter.

    To The Honorable Right Reverend- the name was smudged.

    After I paid for the repairs to the Church¡¯s roof, you told me I could call on you for any Godly aid one such as myself might need. I¡¯m calling in the marker. Not for myself, but for the children of my people. There are thirteen of them, ranging from six months old to eight years. I¡¯m sending a nurse with them, a strong, sensible woman. For the rest, I will have to count on you.

    The Church boasts of its orphanages and its care for children. Care for these ones. They will be orphans soon enough.

    I have spent my entire fortune to arm and armor the people of the Floating Quarter. We knew the Marchioness would abandon us, and so she has. The lower city has little enough time to evacuate, so we, your inconvenient conveniences, will stop the horde here. All of us. One last grand gesture, and a burning salute to the cowards who spit in judgment on those who served them so pleasantly and so well.

    Save the children, Reverend, and I won¡¯t call you to account in the hereafter. Save the children, if for no other reason than seeing your parishioners in their faces.

    Godspeed.

    Madame-

    The name was blurred. Didn¡¯t matter. So were my eyes. Damn it. Damn it. It wasn¡¯t just Mika. Wasn¡¯t just Kim or Pammy. It was all of them. It was this whole damn world!

    The walls I had built were crumbling. This reality was battering its way in. I didn¡¯t want it. I didn''t want it!

    I looked up at the portrait on the wall. It was a beautiful woman, lush, the fabric of her dress carefully painted to catch the shine on the silk. Her sleeves ended in trailing cuffs. Bright yellow, and embroidered with blue roses. Her face had been torn away, a ragged hole in the canvas.

    ¡°No name. Not even a face. Nothing. You left her nothing!¡±

    ¡°Tower Master?¡± Versai asked softly. I realized I had been screaming. I handed her the letter. Shivering. Trying to put the distance back. To not care again.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it. Judith?¡±

    ¡°Weapon kits and three fire traps. Good stuff!¡±

    ¡°It will do. Back to the Tower, everyone. We will finish Madame¡¯s business in this place tomorrow.¡±

    I went straight for the summoning room, and tossed the crystals in with no ceremony whatsoever. My expectations were nil. My hopes were enormous, but my expectations? Nill. I did have the presence of mind to summon Becky. Just in case something interesting happened.

    From out of the mists came three staggeringly attractive women. Leggy and curvy and I couldn¡¯t have been less interested.

    ¡°Oh. My. GOD! Becky, is that you?¡±

    ¡°Sammi! OH. MYGOD! How ARE you?¡±

    ¡°Oh, oh, oh, the girls are all heeeeere! Woo WOO!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind the creep. He tried to boss me around, but I think he gets it now.¡±

    ¡°Ew.¡±

    Ah, now that takes me right back. Yep. Straight back. I could almost smell the Axe bodyspray covering up my B.O. I looked out the window. Still had two orders left before the night and all its monsters. Lots to do. Lots to prepare. Just no reason to do it.

    Three new Becky clones? I was already dead.

 Chapter 16- The Third Wave..ing and Drowning

    I lay on top of the palisade, flopped on the firing step and stared at the blue sky. The cotton-bud clouds drifted slowly, long pillow-coated barges of comfort. Did the Goddess and all her Doki-Doki Angels live on those clouds? Probably not.

    This was the land of the Great God Pachinko. A capricious god, and a jealous one. I wasn¡¯t looking too carefully, but I was willing to bet the pattern of clouds repeated. An endlessly looping skybox animation, subtly reminding you that there was no escape.

    I¡­ was doomed. One hundred percent doomed. I still had two orders left, some upgrades to dole out. Some new traps to install. Versai was healed up, the Judiths could do a lot. Didn¡¯t matter. I was doomed.

    It came down to numbers and time. I needed enough bodies doing enough damage, fast enough, so that the monsters couldn¡¯t reach us and show us that even dolls could suffer terrifying, mutilated and degraded ends.

    My last draws had been a support, who was great, a slow firing artillery unit that couldn¡¯t drop rounds anywhere near the Tower, and three units that flat out refused to be useful in any way whatsoever. Versai had to go for a lie down after seeing them all in one place.

    Not that I could blame her. The sound of them chattering had a certain piercing quality. It was almost impossible to ignore them, even if you desperately wanted to.

    Was that cloud in the shape of a duck? No. It was not. Pity. A most excellent bird, ducks.

    I felt an uncomfortable kinship with my fellow Tower Lords. How many of us had drawn Versai, or one of her Six Star sisters, and heard about the Third Wave barrier? How many of us really thought about the broken way time moved in this place? So long as you didn¡¯t give that final order, night would never come.

    Theoretically, you could spend an eternity in that timeless place. Trapped within a few paces of the Tower. Trapped with mostly mindless dolls. Nothing to read. Nothing to eat. Nothing to do but wait. Knowing that the only way out of that timeless emptiness was brutal suicide.

    I wonder what the record is. How many days or years did someone manage, before giving in to the world? Without even sleep, or drugs. Without losing yourself in the happy dancing girls of anime and J-RPGs and, yes, gacha.

    My hand patted my side again. I hardly noticed I was doing it anymore. Like the phantom limb of a phone, waiting for me to pick it up and start doom scrolling. Yes, there was no escape into fantasy from this unreal world.

    If I was going to be dropped into a world with combat dolls, why couldn¡¯t it be Nikki? Finally get a bite of all that cake running around. The costumes here were way more Kawaii focused. Real shortage of Ecchi, honestly. Real shortage. Shame, shame.

    Not that I was feeling those kinds of urges. 2-D for life! It just might liven up the place.

    Oh, what was I thinking? There would be a beach themed event with lots of summons in swimsuits. If anyone made it that far.

    I stared up, looking for the edge of the sky. Never quite finding it. It was a way to pass the time. My mind wandered a little bit, back to Earth, back to New York. Back to my old life. I wasn¡¯t quite at the point of needing a scooter to get around, but I had investigated canes. Something that would go well with my sweet fedora.

    I don¡¯t think I knew anyone. Not really. There was so much of me, and no one could see me. No one would spot the hole in the world I left behind.

    My condo association would be the first people to notice my absence¡­ actually, maybe not. I was paying by direct deposit, and the cash from my automated newsletter was going in via direct deposit, and my bills were paid by bank transfer¡­ It might be a long while before anyone figured out there was a problem.

    Post office? Lots of mail just piling up in my mailbox might tip them off. Or not, had to be a common issue. I was a regular on certain very private Discord servers. A regular on a variety of even more discreet imageboards. Nothing illegal. Just¡­ private. The other regulars might notice, eventually.

    Alright, some of those torrents were illegal. Not wrong. But, yes, technically, to small minded ignoramuses and intellectual property lawyers, they were ¡°problematic.¡± I won¡¯t apologize. Piracy and anime go together like Pocky and weebs! Mappa exploits its animators, we exploit Mappa. That¡¯s justice.

    I don¡¯t think I was lonely, really. Maybe a little bit, but between the people on Discord and my various shows, I didn¡¯t feel the bite of it the way you are supposed to. The people on my screens became my friends. I learned their little quirks, their likes and dislikes. I knew exactly what I would order if I ever sat down at Ichiraku Ramen, and just how to cheer up Haruhi Suzumia.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    It sounds cliche, but they were real to me. They inhabited the brighter, better world I was supposed to have been born into. I know it¡¯s not a real place. I know that. But as comfortable as I was, living as well as I was, I knew the ¡°real¡± world felt wrong. Sick.

    I made my first pot of cash hustling NFT¡¯s and getting out before the crash. You really mean to tell me this is the best it¡¯s ever been? Global warming is coming down like a meteor. All us dinosaurs eating up the grass, whining, not knowing this is the best it¡¯s ever going to be.

    I stared a while longer, then smiled a little. Hadn¡¯t I rebelled against the sick real world, if only a little bit? I fought back there, making my own little bubble of safety. I could do the same here. And if the monsters broke in?

    Well. I¡¯d have a very bad time. But it wouldn¡¯t be forever. I might be doomed, but I didn¡¯t have to beat myself. Depression is normal, but it can be defeated. I had done it before. I would do it now.

    I gave my cheeks a firm slap, and started preparing for battle.

    ________________________________________________________________

    I reviewed my battle supplies. I was actually in decent shape there, I hoped. I had managed to hang on to all my herbs from the first expedition. That meant that I had four herbs capable of suppressing damage received, two that improve movement speed, and one that improves attack speed.

    The last one would be particularly key, I suspected. Give the movement speed ones to Versai and Rache, they were the mobile combatants. Give them the damage suppressing herbs too, for that matter. The attack speed increase though¡­ That was for Radz.

    That painfully slow reload speed was just killing me. Forty five seconds interval between shots? Are you kidding me? Far, far too long. Even if we knocked it down to thirty seconds that would be huge.

    The herb (it looked like a finger of ginger, and smelled like ginger lemon tea) improved the attack speed by +15 for one battle. I have no idea how that translates into Damage Per Second, as I couldn¡¯t check stats until after I cleared Wave Three.

    Have I mentioned that I want to offer the full Hellblazer service suite to Black Robe and his developer cousin? Because I do.

    Nothing like testing builds in live combat. Fingers crossed.

    I had helmets for the Mikas, which would fractionally improve survivability. I also had new costumes for the Blue Roses, but given their main contribution was staying at the very top of the tower and not bugging me, I wasn''t in a rush to hand those out. I also had five weapons kits, and those were a bit more spicy.

    WEAPON KIT- KINGDOM¡¯S ARMORY, VASPEVANIA: VANGUARD

    +20 To Base Attack Damage Kit 1/5

    WEAPON KIT- KINGDOM¡¯S ARMORY, VASPEVANIA: DIRECT DAMAGE

    +20 To Base Attack Damage Kit 1/5

    WEAPON KIT- KINGDOM¡¯S ARMORY, VASPEVANIA: SUPPORT

    +20 To Support Actions Kit 1/5

    If the phrase ¡°Support Actions¡± wasn¡¯t an exploit waiting to happen, then my years of gaming have been in vain. I wasn¡¯t sure how, just yet, but it would happen. Less good was that, out of my five weapons kits, three were for Vanguards¡­ and I only had one vanguard. The Great God Gacha giveth, and he taketh away.

    I would have a DPS nightmare Versai. A¡­ better-than-the-rest DPS Mika, Kim would literally be fire, and if the rest of my plans didn¡¯t work, the monsters could play with the spares.

    This led me to the three fire traps. KINGDOM¡¯S ARMORY, VASPEVANIA: Special Siege Defense Tool- Fire Trap (Common) 100 Attack (Fire), can inflict Burning. A lot to pick apart there. I had¡­ a lot of questions. Tabling them, for now. But I wasn¡¯t forgetting a single one of them. I sure as hell wasn¡¯t forgetting Madame. Or that¡­ evil¡­ Marchonesse. Funny how you can hate someone you have never met.

    ¡°Kim, does your debuff make enemies more susceptible to burning?¡± I yelled.

    ¡°Of course! I love a fired up audience.¡± She smiled sunnily, spinning her wand over her fingers. I wondered what all those medals on her chest were for. Not for Best OVA Soundtrack, I was sure of that. She didn¡¯t lose an arm from signing too many autographs.

    ¡°Can you only target one enemy at a time?¡±

    ¡°For Debuffs, I can target a small area.¡±

    Ahah. Three Star Quality, right there. Yes indeed.

    I started sketching out the battle in my head. Up to this point, I had been relying most heavily on stakes to slow down the pace of battle and give the Mikas more time to burn down their targets. That¡¯s what stakes were for in games- slowing down enemy charges.

    That was still a good plan. In fact, I should do it even harder. What I really needed was to thin them out with the artillery, funnel them into the fire, have them stand in the fire for as long as possible (while enjoying Kim¡¯s debuff, naturally) then slow them down again as they ran for the Palisade.

    Assuming, of course, that they didn¡¯t set my stakes on fire, or my wooden palisades. Because, naturally, fire would never spread to the magically kiln dried wood.

    In an ideal world, Versai and Rache wouldn¡¯t even get their blades wet.

    Just a few minor design challenges there. Trivial, really. Practically not worth mentioning. The execution part would be even easier. Super easy. Barely an inconvenience.

    I sighed. Oh Goddess, send your Doki-Doki angels to look after your most humble worshiper. And maybe a few smart MC¡¯s to help design my base defense. For example¡­

    Huh.

    Couldn¡¯t think of one off the top of my head. The MC from Irregular in a Magic High School was an engineering nerd. But not civil, military or structural engineering. Mmm. Tricky.

    On the other hand, he did have maximum Onii-Sama power which made him the best at everything unless it was necessary for the plot for him to be bad at it, so it would probably work out.

    Shikamaru from Naruto? No, he was a unit tactics guy. A help for sure, but not the same. I shook my head. I would think of a good base-builder soon enough. Until then, I would have to apply my own brain to the problem.

    They would all be coming for the entrance of the tower. That was the one certainty. They would all aim for the front door. But that DIDN¡¯T mean they would all come from the front. They could come from the sides, wrap around from the back, any way worked, as long as they got in and got me eventually. Had to-

    Ainz Ooal Gown! How?! How could I forget the MC of the anime which gave us lewd meme legend Albedo?! I have shamed the Goddess. I must do ten Hail Moe¡¯s and beg Saintess Rei for her intercession.

    That skeleton loved building his base. It was his whole thing. Maybe that was the key- put my whole heart into every bit of my base. And if I didn¡¯t have a guild with me, so what?

    I¡¯d always preferred the 2-D world. And while these Awakened Souls might be in 3-D bodies, they had the spirit. We could do it. We will do it!

    Now. How do I set a fire trap, keep things on fire, spread the fire as widely as I can, without setting my very flammable defenses on fire?

 Chapter 17- The Third Wave- Sharpening the Edge

    I stared ferociously at the stacks of lumber. Eyes narrowed. Killing intent gathered. Eye beams charging¡­

    It did nothing. Zero inspiration. Plainly cursed wood. Fingers crossed it would infect the oncoming horde with its dark sin of evil doom. There was an awful lot of lumber. Plenty of chances for the curse to proc.

    The Judiths had been busy. Very busy. The lumber was stacked higher than my head. It turned out there were quite a lot of trees within harvesting range of the Tower. They had even saved the branches and off-cuts, knowing that I liked to use every bit of material that came into my hands. Metaphorically speaking. I was still stuck within ten-ish paces of my front door.

    I glared at the wood again. More failure. Figures I would get stuck with defective wood. I needed a pick-me-up. I slapped my side for my phone, found nothing yet again, cursed Black Hood to suffer One Thousand Years of Pain, and called Versai, Mika and Kim over.

    ¡°Upgrades, people, upgrades!¡± They looked blank, the uncultured swine.

    No, no. That was wrong of me. My summons were all Kawaii in their own ways. It wasn¡¯t their fault that some evil necromancer scooped out their brains with a melon baller and slapped in God knows what.

    ¡°Weapons upgrades. For you, Kim-¡± I handed over what sure looked to me like an Ikea toolbox. No idea how she was going to open it with one hand¡­ and I shouldn¡¯t have worried. The box dissolved into a spray of reddish sparks. Kim drew her wand and gave it a little spin. Were the little sparks of flame a smidge bigger? Brighter? Maybe.

    ¡°Mika, you are up next.¡± She jabbed her shield into the ground and took the case, looking worried. I have no idea why- it dissolved in the same spray of sparks it had for Kim. Well. Mika generally looked lost or worried. Until it was time to get stuck in. Then she knew exactly what she was about.

    Hmm. I would have to keep track of her. Call her Mika Alpha or something. Not sure how I would tell her apart when she wasn¡¯t shooting though. I¡¯d figure it out.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to call you Mika Alpha to show you have the upgraded weapon, okay?¡±

    ¡°Mika is here. You have nothing to fear?¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Versai, here is yours. Unfortunately, while I have two more of them for Vanguards, they are dupes. I¡¯ll keep an eye out for the rest of the set.¡± I handed it over to a puzzled looking Versai.

    ¡°Thank you. Dupes?¡±

    ¡°Duplicates. All marked ¡°1/5.¡±

    ¡°Tower Master, I can stack up to five upgrades. Or at least, that¡¯s how I would read that. Not that it¡¯s individually numbered or something.¡±

    Ah. That¡­ would actually make a lot more sense.

    ¡°Let¡¯s find out, shall we? Use ¡®em.¡±

    Versai did just that and glory be- they all turned into sparkles and swam into her sword and shield.

    ¡°Give it a swing. Feel any different?¡±

    ¡°Honestly? Not really. Some, I guess.¡±

    Well. That¡¯s anticlimactic. ¡°Here, cut this tree branch, tell me if it feels different.¡±

    ¡°That is a fantastic way to screw up a sword edge, you know.¡± She frowned at me, her achingly beautiful button nose wrinkling enchantingly in disapproval.

    ¡°Good point, well made. Remind me again how, despite hacking through a small mountain of monsters, your sword, shield and armor look perfectly polished?¡±

    It hurt to disagree with female flesh perfected, but this was life or death. Had to be done! And for all her absence, Mama didn¡¯t raise no simp.

    ¡°Well obviously it¡­ ah. Yes. Right. I see what you mean.¡± She gave her sword a hard look and murmured ¡°Not even a burr on the edge. Now there¡¯s magic for you.¡±

    She casually backhanded the wrist thick branch I was holding. I barely felt the blade tug as it passed through. The cut was glassy smooth.

    ¡°Well that¡¯s terrifying. Is that sharper than normal?¡±

    She examined the cut. ¡°Yep. Lot sharper. I¡¯d bet the shield can take more of a beating too.¡± I nodded. Fingers crossed.

    I handed out the herbs next, and explained how I wanted them used. They all seemed to get it, but I would remind them during the fight anyhow. Was that everything? Not¡­ quite.

    I had quarantined the Becky Clones¡­ err¡­ the Blue Roses of Gradden March in the Throne Room. It was the room furthest away from where I was likely to be, so it seemed perfect.

    The Roses were named Becky, Sammi, Suzy, and Lia. Given what I saw of the ¡°bar¡± and the highly respectful, thoughtful nature of the developers, I was fairly sure those were not their actual names.

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    They did, however, represent a sustained attack on my commitment to 2-D women. HOLY GODDESS were they smoking hot. The blond one looked like Marin¡¯s hotter cousin, I swear.

    Not going to lie, their probable former profession did make me feel uncomfortable. But, but, but¡­ that fit. Those cashmere sweaters and pleated skirts. The hoop earrings and long eyelashes!

    ¡°Oh God, Lia, he¡¯s staring again.¡±

    ¡°Ick, ick ick. I need, like, an entire spa day.¡±

    ¡°This is super traumatizing. For real. Do you think aromatherapy would help? Or should we get crystals or something?¡±

    And there goes my self esteem. Brand new body, same old creep. My confidence caught two to the back of the head and was buried twenty miles outside Nacogdoches by women in wedge sandals with gel manicures and cherry sparkle lip gloss.

    Goddess preserve them, but Black Robe¡¯s cousin did a number on the Blue Roses. Although¡­ for One Stars, they had a remarkably varied vocabulary. Interesting.

    ¡°Not just here to look. I brought you some outfits. Try them on.¡± I handed out the little cards. There was a cacophony of catty comments, but they each took their respective outfit.

    I didn¡¯t have high hopes for the costume change. I was right not to hope. There was a flash of white light, and then they were in their dresses. Beka with the pink dress, Lia with the blue, Sammi in the tan, and Suzy in azure. Each with long, trailing yellow sleeves with blue roses embroidered on them.

    How someone can be covered from wrist to neck, and from neck to calf and still look like the reason the riot started is beyond me. All I can say is that Black Hood¡¯s evil developer cousin has that special sense for Sakuga. Those dresses, on those ladies, worked. But they worked best in motion.

    It seemed the world agreed with me. The light in the room dimmed, except around the Roses. They were bathed in their own spotlight. As one, they raised their right hand, swept it out, and began to dance.

    The dresses swirled and the yellow sleeves fluttered in time to some invisible band. It was a lively tune, faded, echoing from some long lost bar. The dancers smiled, devastating, beautiful smiles, full of warmth and invitation, and started to sing.

    It¡¯s cold without

    It¡¯s warm within,

    (Come play, come play, come play)

    This is a place of forgiven sin.

    The Rose blooms today,

    She knows our ways

    (Come play, come play, come play)

    We have never feared a prick.

    If you can fix what¡¯s stuck

    We are surely your luck,

    (Come play, come play, come play)

    As Roses, we like a firm pluck.

    On and on they sang, dancing and twirling, embracing each other and spinning away. Verse after verse of innuendo and tease. I could see the stage now, see the bar, and the little tables and little chairs. Their voices seemed to multiply, from four to a choir.

    The music started to be lost, a roaring sound, a crackling sound, as fire shoved in on the stage. The dancers never stopped.

    It was licking their feet when a cold voice commanded- ¡°Stop. No more.¡± A woman¡¯s voice, invisible outside of the spotlight. At once the fire stilled and the dance ceased. In the middle of the fire, the ladies curtsied.

    ¡°We are ever obedient and ready to serve, Madame. In all our lives, we shall dance only for you.¡±

    The moment broke. We were back in the Throne room. The Roses turned back to their conversation, ignoring me. I sat hard on the floor.

    My first cutscene. Hah.

    I pulled in my knees, wrapping my arms around them and squeezed myself into a ball. I could see it, more or less. The Madame of the Blue Rose, her dancers and ¡°saloon girls,¡± who organized the rest of their red light district to fight the invasion. Of who or what, I don¡¯t know. Monsters, maybe.

    The Lower Town of Gradden March was abandoned by the manor and the Marchonesse. All the guards were pulled back to defend the Upper Town. Everyone else, all the poor folk, were running away, trying to get out even though it was already too late.

    And there they were. The Roses were spinning and dancing, shooting flames and ice and who knows what else. Their bouncers and regulars were armed with every weapon Madame¡¯s coin could buy. Their unacknowledged children were sent to hide in the church.

    In one last desperate scream- ¡°We are here! We are people! We have our own pride!¡± The Floating Quarter held fast, when everyone else gave up, and ran away. Buying time for those not important enough to be protected by their tax money.

    I shivered, squeezing my knees. It¡¯s not real. It¡¯s not real. It¡¯s just the setting. This is just their character bio. They aren¡¯t real. They were never real. Just dolls. I¡¯m playing a game with my figurines. Just dolls. It¡¯s not real. It¡¯s not real.

    A little glowing spark drifted down from the ceiling and gimmered in front of my face. After I don¡¯t know how long, I tapped it.

    Special Mission Unlocked- Collect all the Clues and Reveal the True Story of Gradden March¡¯s Floating Quarter. Reward- Carousel (Six Stars).

    I nodded. Yes. That sounded about right. Carousel (Six Stars).

    Once, in the game¡¯s own setting, she was a hero. A person with a name and standing. Someone¡­ truly remarkable.

    Now she¡¯s just Carousel (Six Stars). The pole her ponies spin around. Pretty music plays, people hop on for a ride, and they have a wonderful time going nowhere.

    Carousel (Six Stars). A fine trophy and a powerful slave for the Tower Master.

    I convulsed. My hands spasmed. My feet started hammering on the ground. I could feel my teeth grinding. I would chip a tooth at this rate, but I couldn¡¯t stop my body.

    The realness of it all was hammering away at me. I could feel my mind start to reject the body it was trapped in, and become mired in the dissonance. The lines between real and fake, what always was and what was made to be. Where did the game world end and the ¡°real¡± world begin?

    I don¡¯t know how long it took me to come back to myself. Time wasn¡¯t really a factor in this broken world. I took the time I needed.

    It was time to fix my Robin Hood Hat, pull up my leggings and get to damn work. I had people to save, and vengeance to take. However real this game world was, the beatings I would hand out once I was free would be very real indeed.

    ¡°Judiths! Front and center! We have a killing field to make!¡±

 Chapter 18- The Third Wave- Setting Up For Success

    The basics of the basics of tactics- disperse your enemies¡¯ strength, concentrate your own. This maxim has been proven by time. Consider the legendary techniques of ¡°Let''s you and him have a fight,¡± or ¡°You hold him, I¡¯ll hit him.¡± One must also consider the corollary ¡°You go high, I¡¯ll go low.¡±

    Napoleon marched his men in columns, beating drums and looking scary. Wellington put his men in thin lines and made them neck a pint of gin before battle. One of these two strategies maximized firepower, concentrating all the bullets on a target rich environment. The other strategy saw a Coriscan kicked off the throne of France by an Irishman and a Prussian who thought he was pregnant with a baby elephant.

    There was probably more to it than that, but I was already scraping the bottom of my barrel of tactical insight. Light novels and my brief exposure to strategy games could only do so much. Empire Total War was just so janky, you know? Shogun 2 was WAY better, and not just because of the Geisha animations.

    I can¡¯t be the only one who thought the Foreign Veterans in the Fall of the Samurai DLC were basically proto-otaku making a pilgrimage to the holy land, right? Right?!

    Accusations of me being a degenerate weeb, while true, are also hurtful. And will be ignored.

    ¡°Hedgehogs. Basically a thick central axis with big wooden stakes coming out of it. Think of it as the next evolution of the stakes we have been using already. We set up interlocking fields of them, building on top of, and around, the existing stakes.¡±

    I stood on the firing step of the palisade with the Judiths, pointing around the cleared, fortified area in front of the tower. There were already enough stakes out there to give Alucard a warm, homey feeling. Just needed bodies to impale on them.

    We¡¯d have more than enough before dawn came. I¡¯d make sure I was still alive to admire the garden.

    ¡°I basically want them in three dense lines in front of the wall. Each should have a V shape, pointing towards our front door, with a narrow gap in the middle. Very narrow. Less than one Mika wide. The closest one should be forty meters from the Palisade. The other two should split the difference between the first and ten meters from the tree line.¡±

    The Judiths nodded slowly. I think they got what I wanted.

    ¡°We put the fire traps in the middle of each V. Use more hedgehogs and stakes to make functionally impassable thickets around the V¡¯s, to encourage them to funnel through the ¡°opening.¡± If they try to force their way through, they get hung up on the spikes and are easy meat for our hitters. If they go through the gap, they get to enjoy fire and artillery. Rache will flag them for Radz to bombard as they approach.¡±

    I nodded decisively. ¡°The monsters will be few and weak by the time they reach the palisade. Easily cleaned up by Versai.¡±

    The Judiths scratched their heads ¡°It¡¯s a big job, but it¡¯s a can-do from us, Boss. It¡¯ll take Two, though.¡±

    Damn. I was afraid of that. ¡°Can you make sure that the fire traps won''t spread to the hedgehogs when they are activated?¡±

    ¡°Not really? We can make sure they are far enough back that they won¡¯t set the hedgehogs on fire directly.¡±

    ¡°Alright, that sounds good. What about adding trenches, would that increase the time needed?¡±

    They nodded.

    I sighed. Figured.

    ¡°Any nearby sources of water?¡±

    They shrugged. I sighed again. No, there were not. I had confirmed with the map room. The forest near the tower was devoid of even little streams. The nearest water source was the big lake, but who knows how long it would take to get there.

    Lucky none of us needed to drink. Or eat. Or sleep.

    I briefly contemplated controlling an out of control fire with buckets of sand. I checked my magic inventory pouch for buckets.

    I had zero. Which was fair, because I don¡¯t think I had seen a bucket anywhere since I got Isekai¡¯ed. I don¡¯t think the Judiths could make buckets. Trying to put out an enormous fire with buckets of sand from tens of meters away was a stupid idea anyway. It was probably stupid even if you measured in sane, rational units like Paces or Mikas.

    I sighed. Ideal world, what would my defense here look like? Well, a castle. Big, BIG stone walls, with the Tower in the middle of it. I read somewhere that real castles could be defended by a ridiculously small number of people in the event of an attack. Maybe it was a Shadiversity video?

    I just needed to find a quarry, mine a castle¡¯s worth of stone, find someone that knew how to build a castle, and then build it. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

    While I¡¯m at it, I might as well wish I had a few machine gun nests. Get ¡®ole Ma Deuce on the job.

    Was¡­ was she ever in that one manga where all the girls were actual guns? What was the name of that? It was pretty mid, but I kind of wanted to know if the M1 Garand ever made an appearance.

    Ping.

    Yeah, probably should stop running away from the decision. It was a hell of a roll of the dice. Was there something else? Theoretically I could gamble. Send Rache out exploring again, maybe find more herbs, or a hidden shrine or something. I couldn¡¯t raid the dungeon again, that was strictly once a day. The option to launch the expedition was grayed out when I checked.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    I sighed. I had played enough gacha and poker, to know how that all worked. Hell, I had sold NFT¡¯s and my client base was, like, 50% crypto-bros of all genders. I could gamble. But I needed fixed defenses to make up for my lack of numbers.

    Maybe I¡¯d find something amazing in the forest. And maybe this picture of a monkey smoking a cigarette will buy me three yachts.

    ¡°Do it. Build it. Make those hedgehogs as dense as you can manage on the sides. That is your number one priority, above everything else. By the time evening rolls around, there can be only one way the monsters can come at us, and it¡¯s from straight ahead.¡±

    ¡°Yes Boss!¡±

    Here¡¯s hoping I didn¡¯t just kill us all.

    ________________________________________________________________

    It kept coming back to the same damn things. It takes more than one shot for Mika to kill a monster, unless she catches it in the head at close range. It takes Radz GODDAMN FORTY FIVE SECONDS, a time which was fine and definitely not infuriating, to reload and fire. I have exactly six ranged combatants, and they would be doing ninety plus percent of the killing.

    I have one and, counting generously, a half, melee combatants. Versai is death on two lissome, lickable legs, but she routinely got overwhelmed when serving other Tower Masters. Even with the upgrades, she couldn¡¯t solo a wave. And Rache was strictly for picking off the stragglers. Later she might be useful for running down ranged attackers, but for now? Her main use would be marking targets for Radz. However, despite their limitations, they were the only things that could really keep the monsters off my hitters.

    I, therefore, needed the monsters to move slowly. I needed them clumped together. I needed them weakened as much as possible BEFORE they got into Mika¡¯s range. Kim would debuff and buff. The fire would hurt the monsters. The spikes would slow, injure and funnel them. And it would have to be enough. It would be enough!

    This was meant to be beatable. We weren¡¯t even out of the tutorial yet, damnit! I had kept all my summons alive. I had cleared part of a dungeon. I had made aggressive use of all my resources. If I was missing something, I couldn¡¯t imagine it. It WOULD be enough! Those other guys?

    Bad luck. Bad choices. The Great God Pachinko is capricious. Don¡¯t confuse a rare lucky pull for mercy. Me? I hoped for luck, but planned for no-luck. I could do it. I would do it!

    ¡°You did all you could.¡± Versai¡¯s voice was conversational. ¡°More than most. I think you discovered more things than any one Tower Master I can remember. You treated your summons decently. Didn¡¯t spend our lives stupidly. It might not feel like much, but¡­ well, it makes you better than many.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m that doomed?¡±

    ¡°Oh, this could work. But you have to remember, I only ever saw this wave beaten once, and it ruined the Tower Master who did it. I find it easier not to hope.¡±

    ¡°And on that cheery note-¡± I muttered, ¡°Here comes the sunset.¡±

    The sun set unnaturally fast. It raced across the sky in minutes and sank behind the mountains in seconds. The west was dyed in fire- then extinguished. I refused to think of it as an omen. The monsters would be extinguished in fire, not me and mine.

    ¡°Rache- Ride ¡®em! Get out there and find me some monsters to shoot!¡±

    ¡°CHROMED LIGHTNING!¡± Rach cried, her ghostly steed galloping over the forest of stakes. Between one stake and the next it transformed into a motorcycle, and she raced off into the gathering darkness.

    ¡°Radz, are you ready?¡±

    ¡°Radz reporting. What needs to disappear?¡± Her mortar was deployed. Her long white legs stretched around the jutting barrel, feet on the pedals. The darkness of her eyes seemed to glitter with the coming explosions.

    ¡°Don¡¯t take the herb until I order it. ONLY ON MY COMMAND!¡± I barked. I had seen enough anime to know how to bark at a subordinate.

    ¡°Orders received.¡± She nodded.

    ¡°Same for everyone. Wait for it. The description says one battle. Let''s not test just what it means by ¡®battle!¡¯¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master!¡±

    The monsters didn¡¯t keep us waiting long. In just a few minutes, a thread of bright smoke rose from the forest.

    ¡°Kim, buff Radz. Radz, fire on target. Let¡¯s get the warm up going.¡±

    ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡±

    There was a click and a whoosh. A long pause. Then a distant, but still shockingly loud, boom. It looked brighter tonight. Was it¡­ lingering a bit?

    ¡°Kim, does your buff inflict burning when weapons hit?¡±

    ¡°No, Tower Master, just extra fire element damage.¡±

    Hmm. Might just be a cosmetic effect then. Going to¡­ not think about how something can inflict ¡°fire element damage¡± without ¡°setting things on fire.¡± I am sure the game developers had a perfectly logical, coherent explanation for that. Mmhmmm. Sure of it.

    ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡±

    Rache, bless her, had picked up the monsters at the extreme edge of her range. She was giving Radz all the time she could to work.

    Radz, for her part, seemed to take a mechanical joy in what she was doing- a part fulfilling its purpose in a terrible machine. So utterly burnt out by the horror of her labor, she had come to love the results.

    I could sort of understand it. Someone so broken by the psychological pain of their lives that they could only find relief by giving in. By converting entirely and wholeheartedly to the thing that had broken them.

    ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡±

    I had never been there, thank god. Never been¡­ that gone. There are more kinds of violence than just the physical. Never been in a fistfight, but I¡¯d say I¡¯d caught more than a few beatings. It¡¯s not the same, but¡­

    I got where she was coming from. There were all kinds of stories about people like her. Sometimes the heroes, more often the villains. People who understood destruction as the truth of the world.

    It was a sort of messed up Buddhism. Life is suffering. Peace can only be found in obliteration. On that basis, Radz was spreading the good news. The triumph of peace is inevitable. One round at a time.

    God damn the developers for putting all their effort into backstories, and none into mechanics!

    More smoke popped up in the woods, far to the north of the first stream. Then, a minute later, a third streamer rose.

    ¡°Here they come! Stand ready! Tonight, we crush the Third Wave!¡±

 Chapter 19- The Third Wave Crashes

    I glared at the three incoming smoke signals. There was a case for picking one and having Radz pound it. There was a case for splitting her fire and trying to slow the columns, break up their rush. It came down to how fast she could adjust her aim, and how long it took her to fire. Forty five seconds.

    ¡°Radz, eat the herb now!¡±

    ¡°Radz, ready for action.¡± She chomped down on the ginger-root looking thing. I counted the seconds in my head. Twenty. Twenty five. Thirty.

    ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡±

    Thirty five seconds. The herb shaved ten seconds off. That¡­ wasn¡¯t nothing. It was a lot, considered as a percentage. A little less than a quarter. Nearly a quarter increase in firing speed. Goddess, let it be enough!

    ¡°Radz, split your fire. Target whichever column is marked closest.¡±

    ¡°Targeting.¡± Her white legs flashed as she pedaled, subtly shifting the angle of the barrel and rotating it fractionally. A tiny change on this end- ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡± High explosive death on the other. ¡°Targeting.¡±

    Minute adjustments were made after every shot. Rache was out there, under strict orders to stay well away from the monsters but keep them marked. Keep moving around and tracking them as they pressed in through the woods. She couldn¡¯t be everywhere. My biggest worry was that they would wrap around the tower from behind, from an angle Radz couldn¡¯t hit. So far, no sign of that.

    Why couldn¡¯t I have a Judith just look out the window and yell down if she saw something moving to the east?

    ¡°Sorry boss, no can do.¡±

    And that was the end of that conversation. I will just have to find out the hard way.

    Radz was calling out her shots with metronome time. ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡± Then a click and a whoosh. Then a boom that I would probably never stop flinching at. The blasts were definitely brighter. I just hoped they were doing more damage.

    ¡°Kim, what exactly does your buff do?¡±

    ¡°It increases the fire element in someone¡¯s attack. Basically they do more damage when they hit, and some of that extra damage is fire type. It also increases the attack speed for vanguards, front line and direct damage.¡±

    ¡°By any chance does it make people more susceptible to burning or taking fire damage later?¡±

    ¡°Not that I know of, sorry boss.¡±

    ¡°The debuff?¡±

    ¡°Increases chances of rage, increases damage taken.¡±

    ¡°Improved chances of catching on fire?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Boss.¡±

    ¡°Great! What¡¯s the range on the debuff?¡±

    ¡°Ten Meters.¡±

    Well that was no use whatsoever.

    Can¡¯t have everything. Stiff upper lip. Think of Dekku, resolve not to be mid, and carry on.

    The blasts were walking closer. The monsters could hustle. They weren¡¯t insanely fast, thank the Goddess, but they could hustle. I think it was their too-human hands and the way their legs were jointed. They moved like gorillas on all fours. Fast enough that I wouldn¡¯t want to try and outrun one, but not faster than Rache. Or Versai, for that matter.

    So far I hadn¡¯t seen one take to its hind legs to fight, but I certainly wasn¡¯t going to rule it out as a possibility.

    Thirty five seconds. Do you know how long thirty five seconds is when monsters are charging at you? It¡¯s a lot longer than thirty five seconds. It¡¯s an eternity.

    The monotone enthusiasm in Radz voice as she called out her bark, over and over. Like a D-List celebrity working the line in Hell.

    ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡± ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡± ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡± Etching her autograph in torn bodies and scorched organs.

    Three streams of monsters charging in. I could track their progress by the smoke markers Rache was setting. I could feel the alienness of my doll-body pressing in on me. My blood should be thundering in my ears. I should be feeling my heart pound in my chest. Hyperventilating, flooding my body with oxygen so I could run or fight.

    I could feel fear. I swear I was feeling the adrenaline. My knuckles whitened as I gripped the top of the palisade. So why wasn¡¯t I shaking? Why didn¡¯t I have to pee? Why wasn¡¯t I throwing up in terror as things designed purely to kill me as horribly as possible poured through the woods. Not slowing down for one second as their comrades were blasted apart by artillery fire. Not even bothering to chase the scout marking them for slaughter.

    Closer now. They would be breaking into the clearing in a moment. I was pounding the wall. Lightly, but constantly. I didn¡¯t know how long I had been doing it for. None of the summons noticed or cared.

    There! They were through the treeline now. ¡°Radz! Hold your fire until they group up between the hedgehogs!

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Orders Received.¡±

    The metronome blasts stopped. She was only delaying for a few seconds. The monster figured it out quickly. Some got shoved onto the stakes, but most went for the comparatively empty channel in the middle. Radz waited until there was a good clump fighting to get through the first hedgehog barrier, and dropped a round on top of them.

    Radz¡­ had some aim on her, I¡¯ll give her that. The blast went off at roughly head height. There were a dozen of the horrors, with their faces like the ugliest features of wolves and goats and bats. The blast smashed them around, slamming them into the oncoming monsters or into the stakes around them.

    I noticed that the blast alone wasn¡¯t really enough to kill all of them, but it sure killed a lot of them. Of the dozen hit, eight stayed down, and the four that got up were a long way shy of healthy.

    Most importantly, they slowed down the hoard behind them, and my stakes weren''t damaged much. Looks like the broad backs of the monsters absorbed the hit. Nice. Very nice. Now if she could just hit them again in some kind of reasonable timeframe that would be super.

    The monsters didn¡¯t wait long. They surged over the bodies of their fellows and pushed into the gap. They were only getting through one at a time, and slowly, but they were getting through. I hesitated. There were more monsters streaming in from the forest. The first couple were through. Looked like there were¡­ thirty? Maybe forty? Bunched up at the barrier.

    ¡°Radz, keep firing on the big clump at the first barrier.¡±

    There was a click, and a whoosh. The blast made me flinch.

    ¡°And now that there is a nice oxygen filled gap in their ranks¡­¡± I muttered. I called up the screen, and set off Fire Trap #1.

    Sometimes, just sometimes, you get what you hoped for. I had been hoping for an enormous carpet of searing flames. The monsters didn¡¯t appreciate learning about my hopes and dreams.

    The flames shot up white hot, searing hot. Hot enough that the stakes around it burst into flames, and the monsters trapped in it screamed as the water boiled out of their muscles and blood. Flesh blushed for just a moment, then blackened and cracked, spilling unspeakable fluids that evaporated as soon as they hit the blast furnace heat.

    The ones injured by Radz died almost immediately. Those that had rushed in to fill the gaps¡­ lingered. The screams. Bleating, howling and horribly human. The screams pierced my ears. Drilled into my head.

    I told myself over and over- ¡°They wanted to make you scream like that. That¡¯s what they wanted to  do to you. This is all the Dev¡¯s fault. This is black robe¡¯s fault. Hate them. Hate them!¡± Anything to not think about the sounds. About what I was doing.

    There was no escaping the noise. Mercifully, the smell hadn¡¯t reached me yet. It would, though. I knew it would.

    The flames died down eventually. Not completely gone, but lowered to something more¡­ ankle high. A sick part of me was glad. It might not kill them at once, but it would burn their feet. Slow them down even more. I spotted the next big clump coming in from the treeline.

    ¡°Radz, switch targets. Hit the group coming in from the treeline.¡± I would let damage over time get to work on the first batch. Besides, there were only a few left. I wouldn¡¯t even trigger the other traps to stop them, the Mikas could clean them up no problem.

    ¡°Orders received.¡± Click. Woosh. BAM! Then the wait. The scorched monsters clearly didn¡¯t want anything to do with the fire, and started trying to pick their way through the stakes. It was very slow going, as I had made damn sure there weren''t any gaps in the line around the fire traps. It was a funnel. You could go through it, or spend just as long as you pleased climbing over the very spikey barricades.

    The lightly charred horrors opted to climb. Well. That was fine with me. They could take all the time they liked.

    The next wave was closing in fast. The burning stakes didn¡¯t slow them nearly as much as they had the first wave. The smokey red light made the nightmares seem even more demonic as they passed. Their swept back goat horns seemed at home in the infernal darkness. They didn¡¯t go for the barricades. Apparently they didn¡¯t get the memo. They charged straight across the burning carpet.

    ¡°YES!¡± I slammed my fist into the palisade. The monsters screamed and tripped over their long, human-like hands, falling face first into the fire. The ones in back smashed into the ones in front, piling up. Standing in the fire.

    ¡°Radz, hold your fire! Target that group there but only when they have passed the fire trap!¡±

    ¡°Orders received.¡± The fire wasn¡¯t incinerating them the way it had the first wave, but they were taking damage. They were slowed down. I could feel the seconds tick past. Twenty five. Thirty. Thirty five. They were up now, dragging themselves out of the fire. Getting themselves together, gingerly trying to move on their burnt paws.

    An animal, a normal animal, would have run away. No food here. I could see their heads swing around. Fixating on the tower. I swear they were fixing their bloody eyes on me!

    Most of them were out of the trap now. Yeah. Before they really started moving again. ¡°Radz, fire!¡±

    ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡± She was as good as her word. The iron tube bucked and spat between her long legs. The mortar round went up high, invisible amongst the stars. Then dropped down directly on top of the recovering monsters.

    There was a boom and even though I knew it was coming, the sound made me flinch again. I was smiling this time, though.

    Thirty monsters had made it through the fire trap. Only five survived Radz. Between the ones hung up on the barricades and this batch, we were looking at maybe fifteen injured, spread out and slowed down targets. Acceptable. Totally acceptable.

    ¡°Target the treeline again. Wait for the next group to appear.¡± If they wanted to keep feeding themselves to me in clumps, I would happily eat up every bite. Even if I wasn¡¯t hungry, I could eat.

    I didn¡¯t have to wait long. They came through the trees like a flood under the front door. Tens of them in the first second, then scores. There must have been at least a hundred of them clearing the woods, all at once!

    ¡°Fire! Fire!¡±

    ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡±

    Her legs pedaled the mortar around, the round fired, and she punched a hole in their mass. It was filled by more monsters almost instantly. Hundred and ten? Hundred and forty?

    ¡°How many are there!?¡±

    ¡°I never counted.¡± Versai¡¯s voice was subdued. ¡°More than two hundred in the whole wave. You cleared out the advanced elements. Now you face the main body.¡±

    They smashed into the stakes, and kept sweeping forward. If one got shoved onto a stake or slipped on the gore of an exploded comrade, they were simply trampled over. They dutifully funneled into the gap, and Radz got another round off. It ate a chunk out of them, but they hadn¡¯t been injured yet- a lot of them just stood up again, shook it off and charged on. More slowly, but charged still.

    The front of the line hit the fire trap, screamed and collapsed. Those pressing behind fell over the first group, then they started screaming. But the group behind them climbed over the screaming carpet with eerie ease, and were through. Racing towards the second line. All I could do was count the seconds. Count, and pray.

 Chapter 20- The Third Wave- Forty Yards From Hell

    It was that feeling. The feeling when you are crossing the road, and Truck-Kun is coming straight at you, but it¡¯s not your time yet. You think. You aren¡¯t sure if Truck-Kun knows that. Will he stop? Or are you getting Isekai¡¯ed the hard way? Do you have enough time to jump forward? Backwards? Can you even move? Because right now, it feels like your feet are nailed to the pavement.

    That feeling.

    The monsters were through the first barrier. They had hit the stake field between the first barrier and the second, but they were coming in a huge wave. I had never seen so many come at once. At least a hundred. At least!

    ¡°Radz, hold your fire until I give the order!¡±

    I couldn¡¯t miss the shot. They would hit that second barrier like a wrecking ball, but they had so many bodies, they could climb over each other and cross it without hardly slowing down. I had to time it just right.

    They were filtering through the stakes. Picking up scratches and gouges. Slowing down, so the ones behind shoved them hard, forcing them forward. Into yet more stakes. They wanted to spread out horizontally to get around the stakes. Fine. Do that. Take your time. As they moved in closer, the funnel of hedgehogs would force them into a clump.

    I had to wait until just before maximum density. Everything was chaos below me. How should I know when to give the order? I hung on as long as I could stand.

    ¡°Radz, aim for the front of the mob and fire!¡±

    ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡±

    I don¡¯t know if it was the perfect moment, but Radz caught them just before the firetrap.

    The shell exploded at roughly the monster¡¯s head height. It looked like some of the blast radius just missed the monsters, but that was fine- it caught the leading edge of them. It broke their momentum. Just for a moment. Just the ones in the very front. But it slowed the line just barely enough that they almost came to a standstill without pouring over the barricades.

    I smashed the activation button for Fire Trap #2. The monsters screamed, and I screamed with them- in joy. I must have caught at least forty in the trap. At least forty! Maybe even fifty. The sheet of fire blazed and the monsters blazed with it. I roared, pounding on the palisade.

    It was working! The plan was working! There would be a bare few of them that managed to reach the palisade and the ones that did would be maimed and slow. Easy meat for the Mikas.

    ¡°Radz, hold your fire! Wait for-¡±

    I squinted. There were still more monsters coming in from the woods, but not a whole lot of them. This was probably the bulk of the wave. That wasn¡¯t the problem, though.

    The problem was, they were starting to climb over the hedgehogs. They weren¡¯t waiting for the fire to die down- the uninjured ones were just avoiding both the first fire trap and the still blazing second firetrap entirely. It seems that the raid had decided not to stand in the fire.

    I could see them in the light of their burning comrades. Long, human-like fingers wrapping around the stakes, pulling themselves over the stacked hedgehogs. It took them a few minutes, but so what? I don¡¯t know if they had thought it through or not, but there was no way I could blast them without destroying my own barricades¡­ all to catch two or three of them. They had spread out, and were pushing the whole line.

    Well. This is the exact, specific thing I didn¡¯t want. I turned spacy for a moment. I watched them slowly work through the barricades, spreading their line, helpless. I needed them to bunch up. I needed that. I was getting that, and now they were spread out. It wasn¡¯t fair. It wasn¡¯t fair! Nothing about this was fair. The first wave had, what? Forty monsters? The third has more than two hundred?! No wonder almost no one passed it!

    I gave my cheeks two sharp slaps. No time for moping. Moping equals death. And I couldn¡¯t allow myself to die before Black Robe and his cousin. Rosalia? Yeah. Rosalia. Black Robe and Rosalia. Murder them, then see about next steps.

    The monsters seeped through and were starting to filter though the stakes between the second and third wall of hedgehogs. I got a little lucky- they were still more spread out that I would prefer, but they seemed unable to resist the gap in the wall.

    A straight line is not, in fact, necessarily the shortest distance between two points. As these monsters were about to learn. ¡°Radz, lead elements. NOW!¡±

    ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡± The cool competence of her bark was almost soothing now. The round sailed out, and smashed eight flat, backing up twenty or so. The others were still spread out. This last firetrap would be the least effective. I would have to make it count.

    I hesitated. They used the opportunity to get up and organize themselves again.

    ¡°Mikas, the second, and I do mean the SECOND they are in range, start shooting. Radz, hold your fire. Kim, Buff the Mikas and Versai. Versai, same as yesterday. Vermin Control.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master!¡±

    I deliberately let a few get through. Just a few, forcing the gap. The Mikas tore them apart, even at extreme range. The buff from Kim was doing a lot, I could tell.

    I never took my eye off the gap. Monsters were giving up on trying to climb over the final wall, opting for the ¡°safe¡± gap that already existed. More of them. More of them!  They were still trickling over the barriers all the way back to the tree line.

    I kept my eyes on the funnel and waited. Two got through. Four. Ten. Now the monsters were really crowding in. Thirty of them in there? Something like that. The stragglers were still a few seconds back. This was as packed as it would get.

    ¡°Radz, hit ¡®em!¡±

    The mortar was firing almost straight up now, at the very closest range it could manage. It blew them back, knocking out a dozen. Then when they gathered themselves, I activated the final trap!

    ¡°Radz, target the furthest marked targets. Prioritize groups of three or more.¡±

    ¡°Orders Received.¡±

    The Mikas were already firing at speed. I could see Kim¡¯s buff at work. They weren¡¯t massively faster, but they were faster. The monsters were dropping. Mika Alpha, with her improved weapon, was especially deadly. Other Mikas might take three hits to drop a monster at extreme range. Mika Alpha was doing it in two, and even at this range, she was one-shotting some of them.

    All the accumulated damage was adding up. The monsters were lit by all the fires in the clearing now. Three burning traps, the burning stakes, their burning comrades. I could smell the burnt monster flesh and it made me sick. I was glad I couldn¡¯t throw up. I was glad I didn¡¯t have to eat. It didn¡¯t smell like pork. I don¡¯t know what it did smell like, but¡­ not pork.

    Maybe it smelled like war. I could feel reality slipping again. The Hell do I know about war? I was a terminal-phase otaku slipping into terminal-phase morbid obesity, funded by swindling swindlers, using technology that was going to shatter humanity. I didn¡¯t know a damn thing about war.

    The Mikas knew all about it though. I could see it in their eyes. They always looked a little lost in the Tower, like they didn¡¯t know what they were supposed to do. Not now. Shields planted, crossbows up, sighting down at the enemy. They were right at home.

    The third barricade, with the final fire trap, was exactly forty yards from the palisade at its closest point. Forty yards being exactly Mika¡¯s range. It was those forty yards that were going to determine life and death.

    This was it- the final moat before the wall. Filled with spikes and whatever little hedgehogs the Judiths could make with the remaining timber. We used everything. Every scrap and splinter. Pushed to the very limits of the available time.

    Scatter them. Hurt them. Slow them. Make them easy meat for for the hardest hitting waifus that ever got tagged as One Stars.

    The crossbows snapped out, their bolts of white light flecked with fiery red. They hit the monsters with meaty ¡°Chunk¡± noises, and stayed in the wounds. Like they were real, physical bolts. I couldn¡¯t explain it. The Mikas couldn¡¯t either. They just lined up their shots, pulled their triggers, and were on to the next unspeakable horror.

    I kept a tight eye on those seemingly solid bolts. Would they overshoot? I couldn¡¯t tell for absolutely certain but it didn¡¯t look like it. Whatever magic caused them to exist in the first place seemed to rip them out of existence too.

    So much for exploiting the physics model. Damn! The screaming monsters were still coming- picking their way over the barriers rather than force themselves through the fire.

    Radz was picking off groups of stragglers, but we were in the thick of it now. Tens of them were now too close to be targeted by the mortar. Mika couldn¡¯t keep up. I tried to count flattened, bat-like noses, and didn¡¯t like how high the numbers were getting.

    ¡°Versai- go slow them down! Aim for their legs and don¡¯t let them bog you down. Stick and move. Kill if you can, but cripple them! Retreat if you start getting surrounded.¡±

    ¡±Yes, Tower Master.¡± She jumped over the palisade, sword and shield in hand.

    ¡°Mika Alpha! Your job is to prioritize any monsters that get behind Versai. She is the vanguard, you are covering her.¡±

    ¡±Yes Tower Master! Mika is here. You have nothing to fear.¡±

    Versai landed, long blond hair fluttering like a battle standard. She slapped her shield twice with the flat of her blade, and lunged in. Her shining blade struck- and the monsters fell apart.

    Up and down. Step, cut, step, lunge, step, chop. Versai made her way through the field and where her blade went, limbs fell. She did as she was told, moving constantly, not trying to stop the rush. She just hacked open the backs of thighs, removed legs at the knee, chopped spines at the base.

    No blood stained that fluttering blond hair. Her face and armor blocked it all. Not even blinking at the foul spray. More ordinary for her than eating or drinking. The monsters screamed and collapsed, and she was past.

    Mika Alpha worked behind her, punching down gleefully on the crippled monsters outside our walls. Some were getting close but the Mika¡¯s were keeping up. I tried to keep my eyes sweeping around. There were still monsters filtering through the fortifications, but it looked like we had broken the back of the wave.

    I sighed slightly. Too soon to relax, but it sure looked like the careful planning had paid off. I nodded slightly to myself. That¡¯s how it should be, of course. Proper preparation, careful use of all my summons, aggressively exploring-

    A little golden light popped up in front of me. Frowning, I tapped it.

    Hidden Objective Unlocked-  Defeat Monster Alpha 0/1. HINT: It¡¯s very proud.

    A boss. There was a hidden boss. Did we do too well? Was this a punishment for success? What fresh Hell had the devs cooked up? What kind of damned gacha was this?

    ¡±I¡¯ll remember this, Pachinko!¡± A stream of smoke rose up from the woods. Then another. Then another, all in close proximity but moving for us fast.

    ¡±RADZ! Target the incoming in the woods! GIVE ¡®EM HELL! TONIGHT, THIS TOWER DOES NOT FALL!¡±

 Chapter 21- The Third Wave: Alpha? Nah Bro, SIGMA!

    Radz fired for effect. Kim kept her buff refreshed, but with the speed that this was closing, I wasn¡¯t optimistic that she was scoring hits.

    ¡±Kim, I¡¯m expecting a big one to close in pretty soon. Debuff as soon as they are in range. Keep the Mikas buffed, keep Radz buffed, above all keep Versai buffed but be sure you get the big guy.¡±

    ¡±You got it boss. A tough critic?¡± The vet grinned, spinning her wand across her fingers.

    ¡±Toughest we have faced yet. But so what? We are the best! What do we have to fear from a critic?¡±

    Kim was a Three Star. She just about got it. ¡°Right, boss. It¡¯s showtime!¡±

    The plumes of smoke were coming close, fast. It would be through the woods shortly. Moving in a hell of a hurry. ¡°Versai, clean up anything inside the last barricade. We have a big one incoming. I want you off to the right. Be ready to flank and shank!¡±

    ¡±Yes Tower Master!¡± She barked reflexively. Then ¡°A big one?¡± Her blade started hacking off heads. The monsters clawed for her, but their talons just scraped along the shield. Harmless.

    And shortly thereafter, armless. Versai was quite willing to hack away anything that came in reach.

    ¡°Alpha Monster. Wave Boss.¡±

    ¡±What¡¯s that?¡± A head pinwheeled away from her in a spray of blood.

    ¡±Big nasty. Clear out everything you can before it gets here, then back off. I need it to not think- wait one.¡±

    I frowned in thought. There were still low burning fires where the traps had gone off.

    ¡±Kim, can you buff with fire resistance?¡±

    ¡±Not really my field, boss.¡±

    Damn. Damn! Alright, alright, hard way it is. Harder way.

    ¡±Clean ¡®em up quick. It¡¯s coming!¡±

    From out of the tree line, the alpha charged. It was everything the ordinary monsters were, but bigger. More brutal. More cruel. It¡¯s long horns were ridged with little spikes. Most assuredly not for my pleasure.

    The alpha surveyed the field and roared with outrage. It stood on its hind legs and slapped its chest with both hands. The heavy CRACKs sounded like a legion of legs breaking. Like an earthquake in a brittle bone ward.

    ¡°Radz, shoot that guy right there.¡±

    ¡±Orders received.¡¯

    ¡±And just to keep him focused,¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Your Mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries!¡± I yelled across the field. It tilted it¡¯s head, looking at me. Clearly not a monster of culture. I suck my thumb on my nose and wiggled my fingers. ¡°PLIBTHTHHH!¡±

    Oddly, that got its attention. It roared and sapped its chest again. I turned around and wagged my derriere. Packing a lot less junk in the trunk these days, but when I slapped it, the hand feel was a pure upgrade.

    ¡±Compensating for something, Tiny?¡± I yelled.

    It took that personally. With a scream, it rushed forward. I smiled happily. The beast rushed straight at me¡­ into a special delivery from Radz. Never thought I would see a monster headbutt a mortar round.

    The blast knocked the monster down for a second, but only a second. The smile drained from my face. It shook its head violently and staggered to its feet. Were their tiny flickers of flame on it?

    Kim¡¯s debuff made rage more likely to trigger, right? And it was a very proud monster. I made a particularly sinister, particularly dirty, move.

    I want to be very clear here- what I did was not a Hakka. The Hakka is a traditional dance of the M¨¡ori, one with much meaning and significance. As someone who was not remotely M¨¡ori and who had never seen it properly performed, what I committed on that palisade could only be described as a very tasteless parody.

    The repeated gestures, anatomical, scatalogical, and reproductive, really obliterated any faint gestures towards authenticity. Though I like to think my passion matched the real thing.

    Especially when I started adding some tongue to it. Really swinging my hips in there. Waving what the devs gave me, as it were. Waved it a lot. Much slapping. Much chopping.

    The monster took that personally too. Extremely personally.

    In a fit of coughing bellows, the alpha charged towards me. Anything unfortunate enough to get in its way was smacked aside, The stakes- smacked. Other monsters? Smacked. The fire trap? Well, that wasn¡¯t exactly in the way, was it? The alpha ran straight through.

    I smiled viciously. ¡°You just SUCK! You just SUCK! Whosa Loosa? Yousa Loosa! I¡¯ve had bowel movements scarier than you!¡± My voice thundered across the battlefield.

    I paused. Some imp of honesty compelled me to add- ¡°Really. Don¡¯t get discount supermarket sushi. There is a reason they are cheap, and it ain¡¯t every day low prices.¡±

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    I might as well have saved my breath. It was still coming right for me. I saw Rache move in from the forest. Guess the Alpha was the last of them. I cupped my hands and yelled- ¡°RACHE! CLEAN UP THE WOUNDED. DON¡¯T ENGAGE THE BIG GUY UNLESS ORDERED!¡±

    She waved her saber in acknowledgement. The monster roared again. Must have thought I taunted it a second time. It was really moving.

    Radz fired again, the mortar delivering its payload right on target. The monster was a little slower to get up this time. A little shakier. I shook my head. There wouldn¡¯t be any time for a third shot- it was already at the second barrier.

    ¡±AWW DOES BABY NEED A NAP TIME? AWW! WAH, WAH, WAH!¡±

    Oops! He was back in it now! He charged right through that second fire trap. I could see those hand-like paws were scorched almost black. It was moving pretty roughly too. One more fire pit to go.

    The alpha was doing a great job of clearing out the slower monsters too- all those injured horrors limping towards us were simply crushed or smashed away.

    Was it starting to slow as it got close to the final fire trap?

    ¡±HEY! I GOT TO KNOW YOUR MOM REALLY WELL! SHE IS A CLASSY LADY WITH VALUABLE OPINIONS ON SUBJECTS LIKE MONEY, GENDER, AND THE LAZINESS OF THE YOUTH! HER OPINIONS ON RACE AND RELIGION WERE PARTICULARLY INSIGHTFUL! YOU SHOULD CALL HER MORE OFTEN!¡±

    It glared at me just long enough to scream with outrage. A sound somewhere between a bleat and a howl. Its mangled, deformed face promised hideous death.

    ¡°Kim, ready on the debuff. VERSAI! WAIT UNTIL THE MIKAS GO FULL SPEED! HEY MONSTER! YOUR DAD IS A GENEROUS LOVER AND I AM GRATEFUL FOR HIS FINANCIAL SUPPORT THROUGH COLLEGE!¡±

    It charged, furiously fast, ripping up its already shredded feet. Ignoring the way the fire was starting to burn up its arms and sear its underbelly.

    It crossed the fire trap. Forty yards on the dot. The only target left in the inner line of defenses.

    ¡±MIKAS! DEFENSE! NOTHING GETS PAST YOU!¡±

    Their shields glowed white, and a second wall rose above the palisades. ¡°MIKA HOLDS THE LINE! MIKA HOLDS THE LINE! SAVE OUR FAMILIES AND RUN! NOT AGAIN! YOU WON''T TAKE THEM AGAIN!¡±

    Wait- that was different. What-

    The Mikas unleashed Hell. There was nothing else to call it. A blizzard, a winter hurricane of flame touched bolts smashed into the alpha. Their screams harmonized into a sound of pure, horrified rage.

    The Mika¡¯s hated this thing. Hated it with every scrap of their being. They were the final line of defense. Shields planted. Retreat was impossible, surrender more so. All that was left was the killing.

    Us or them? The Mikas spat on such empty optimism. ¡°Us AND them. Mika holds the line.¡± Every bolt carried their desperate resolve- that this time, their sacrifice would matter.

    The Mikas fired until they collapsed. They gave it their everything. It wasn¡¯t quite enough.

    The Alpha groaned. It was pierced with so many bolts and covered with so much blood, you couldn¡¯t even guess what it originally looked like. But it wasn¡¯t dead yet.

    With a terrible resolve of its own, it dragged its body closer to the barricade. One bloody step at a time. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to smile.

    ¡±Versai. Finish it quickly.¡±

    ¡±Gladly. Tower Master.¡± Was there something in her voice now? I thought there was, but Versai was faster than my thoughts. She swept in from the right flank. She hacked off one hind leg, then the other. Then chopped its spine. Then higher up the spine. Shifted her grip and stabbed into its guts from the back. Over and over and over, hunting for the heart.

    She stepped back a moment, took a closer look, then stabbed a half dozen more times. She touched it- ¡°Dead, Tower Master.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Join Rache and clean up the remainder. Well done everyone. Damn well done.¡±

    WAVE 3 COMPLETE.

    I don¡¯t know how long I sat on the firing step. ¡°Time¡± was a meaningless concept here. Must have been ¡°a few minutes,¡± because Versai made her way back to me.

    ¡±Congratulations. You are only the second Tower Master I know to survive the third wave, and you kept all of us alive. All of us. Three waves, and you haven¡¯t lost a single Awakened Soul. So far as I know, that makes you unique.¡±

    I laughed quietly. ¡°No offense, but I have to seriously wonder about the competence of your prior¡­ ugh. I don¡¯t want to call them masters.¡±

    ¡±Why? That¡¯s what they were. The Tower Masters I served.¡±

    ¡°Cultural reason.¡±

    ¡±Ah. Don¡¯t want to call someone master unless their guild recognizes them as such?¡± She nodded. Her eyes were very understanding.

    ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go with that.¡± Never a John Brown when you need one.

    I slowly shook my head. No. That was weak thinking. I beat the Alpha tonight. That meant it was time to become the true, final form of modern masculinity- the SIGMA male.

    No waiting for John Brown. No hunting for John Brown. I would become him, and exceed him. His soul would march on in another world. This world.

    ¡±I¡¯m breaking this world. I am. I¡¯m beating this game, figuring out how it all works and shattering it. I¡¯m getting you all out of here. Not just the six stars. All of you. And killing the evil necromancers that made this place. Freedom first, murder a very, VERY close second.¡±

    She smiled. It was a sad little thing. ¡°Others have said that.¡±

    ¡±Yeah?¡±

    ¡±I think they meant it too.¡±

    ¡±Hope so.¡± I really did.

    ¡°Also, calling you Tower Master is one of the rules of this world. Some summons can call you Boss, or Commander or something, but it all amounts to the same thing. Sorry, they tried that too.¡±

    I bowed my head. It really was the next thing I was thinking of.

    ¡°Alright. Alright. I have this¡­ absurd title. I have a tower. I have involuntarily loyal subordinates. JUDITHS! Out you come! Time to clean up the battlefield and collect the loot.¡±

    It was a hell of a haul. The hundreds of monsters yielded four hundred Runed Bones and a small mountain of crafting materials. There weren¡¯t any real surprises until the Apha was harvested. Common tier crafting mats, an extra five hundred Runed Bones¡­ and a directed summoning crystal.

    I squeezed the stone tight in my fist. I was out of traps. Who knows when I would find more. The extra help was more than appreciated. We wouldn¡¯t have survived the monsters alone, without the traps killing so many of them, and wounding so many more. The alpha got hit by mortars twice, was raging, smashed into loads of spikes, walked through the remnant of all three traps, ate Mika¡¯s Ult AND STILL absorbed a ton of damage from Versai before it was finally dead.

    Balanced? You call this balanced? A skills based game? Was some depraved marketing lunatic giggling and fiddling in his pants pocket as he unveiled his ¡°Dark Souls of Gacha¡± advertising campaign?

    I took a deep breath, wondered at my ability to breathe even performatively, and stood. ¡°Alright. To the Throne room. Let¡¯s see what the Devs have in store for us now. And it damn well better be outstanding.

 Chapter 22- Subtracting One Punch

    We trooped upstairs. The door to the Records Hall was open, but I skipped it for now. More pressing concerns. Once more, I had kept all the monsters out of the tower, and all my summons alive. We killed a hidden boss. The Tower Rewards, the level clear bonus, would be enormous.

    ¡°So, Versai, you have never seen an Alpha monster before?¡±

    ¡±No, nothing like that. I have seen some bizarre things on expeditions. Some of those relic sites are beyond strange. But during a Wave, defending the Tower? Only monsters. Ordinary monsters. Just a lot of them, coming stronger and faster every time.¡±

    Versai kept mindlessly touching the hilt of her sword. She kept looking out the windows as we marched up the stairs.

    ¡±Did you notice that I barely got touched during the wave? Wave Three. Even the other time we beat it, I got torn to almost nothing. It¡¯s one reason I don¡¯t remember much of the Fourth Wave. No medic. I died almost instantly. But this wave, I was barely touched.¡±

    ¡±Fortifications. Lots of fortifications. If you know the enemy can¡¯t hit you with ranged weapons, make sure they can¡¯t reach you and you can shoot them. I¡¯d have built a giant stone wall, if I had stone. But those¡­ things can climb worryingly well, so a palisade wall was never going to be enough on its own.¡±

    ¡±Slow them down, shoot them up.¡± Versai murmured.

    ¡±Yep.¡±

    I shook my head. I had a nagging suspicion that tactic had run its course. The appearance of the Alpha strongly suggested that. Still. I would adapt.

    ¡°Mind you, if I had troops that could fall back faster than the monster could advance, this would look very different. I don¡¯t suppose cavalry and horse archers are a thing?¡±

    ¡°They are.¡±

    I stopped dead. ¡°You¡¯re kidding?¡±

    ¡°Nope. Not¡­ common, but I have seen a couple.¡±

    Well there¡¯s some hope for the future!

    The throne room was its usual barren self. There was the board with the missions and fliers, there was a chest with the loot from the monsters and the rapidly-becoming-welcome sight of a flashing gold spark in the air. I tapped the spark. A brief triumphal fanfare played.

    WAVE THREE- COMPLETE! OPTIONAL BONUS OBJECTIVE- KILL THE ALPHA, COMPLETE! PERFECT PASS!

    Optional? OPTIONAL?! What part of that was optional! The evil thing just appeared on the field! Where was the opt out button?

    Rewards- 200 Resonant Crystals, 1- Cherished Memory: Rakim, 2 Frozen Diamonds-¡±

    Ooh! Premium currency, and earnable in game? Who says the cabal of body snatching necromancers are completely immoral?

    Award for Perfect Victory: -5% Resource Cost For Field Constructions.

    That one gave me a pause. First, the number. Five percent. It was the difference between something costing a dollar and ninety-five cents. Which is to say, the difference between a round number and a fake bargain.

    On the other hand, a flat, permanent reduction in resource costs? And five percent of a hundred was only five, but a thousand? A million?

    It¡¯s a gacha game. I should expect the numbers to get stupid.

    The other thing that made my eyebrow twitch uncontrollably were the words ¡°Resource Costs.¡± Because so far, there hadn¡¯t been any. There was just ¡°Hey, Judiths, do we have enough timber to make a few hundred stakes? How about a palisade?¡±

    But that wasn¡¯t how gacha worked, was it? Oh no. You needed to keep track of a gazillion different resources, currencies, timers, events, special event currencies, all kinds of nonsense.

    I was still in the tutorial. The thrice damned honeymoon phase. They were still easing me into it. They were gonna stick me with resource management. I could smell the evil coming.

    Perfect Clear of Hidden Wave Boss Monster Alpha- Alpha Skull Totem!

    Alpha Skull Totem is a base decoration and may be hung in the Throne Room, The Master¡¯s Chambers, or over a Tower entrance. If placed over an entrance, all Monsters approaching from that side of the Tower will suffer the Debuf- Lingering Fear.

    Lingering Fear- Non-Boss, Non-Elite, Non-Rare Monsters will know that an Alpha was killed in that area, and will dread encountering whatever killed it. -10% movement speed, -10% attack speed, -10% attack strength, -20% morale.

    There was a small heap of resource packs, Millenary Orders and even a hat box to round things out. I checked the hatbox. Big pile of fruit on a broad brimmed woman¡¯s hat. I banished it to the depths of my inventory. Didn¡¯t even give a stat boost!

    Versai was blinking in shock. I had to keep reminding myself- if I had been Isekai¡¯ed, she was stuck in a time loop. Reliving the same three days over and over, seeing all the permutations of failure. Remembering vividly one instance of blind, limited, luck.

    I smiled at her. It was¡­ hard. Trying to be sincere to a 3-D woman, especially one so strong and pretty. But, hell, didn¡¯t she deserve at least that much? Or had Firen taught me nothing?

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡±Hey. We beat Wave Three. We are all alive. We will have at least four new comrades by the next wave. We still have all my orders for Wave Four. We still have most of our defenses intact.¡±

    I inhaled, scrabbling for something cool to say. ¡°Ready to see what the Fifth Day looks like?¡±

    Her face twitched into something resembling a smile. I don¡¯t think she really knew how to feel. I was sure the game was messing with her.

    ¡°You know what? I really am. I really, REALLY am.¡±

    ¡°Well. Before we start the Fourth Day, we have one last thing to do.¡± I summoned all my¡­ summons, and had them assemble in the area between the door and the palisade.

    I didn¡¯t know quite what to think of them. Some of them, like Versai, were complete people. Trimmed and molded into something more appealing to the Tower Master, but still a complete and functional person. The rest of them?

    The Mikas were shuffling around, looking awkward. They would bump into each other with their enormous shields and reflexively apologize. Pammy wasn¡¯t much better, as she kept looking around with an ¡°awawawah¡± face, then tearing up for no reason.

    Radz looked around calmly, the brokenness in her eyes horribly obvious. The Judiths stood next to her, casual, bland, blue-collar optimism personified. Next to them was Kim, much more life in her eyes, a trace of mischief, but some knowing creases in that too-perfect face.

    Then there were the Blue Roses, each still in their new costumes, each still a staggering beauty, and each still a massive pain in my once-ample rear. They had a tragic backstory, but¡­ right now¡­ so what? Who didn¡¯t? Kim had one arm and was physically incapable of attacking, and she STILL went toe to toe in melee. Talk about tough!

    I sighed. I didn¡¯t want to think of people purely in terms of their usefulness to me. I think everyone here, myself included, were victims of that thinking. Still. I had played enough gacha to know that was exactly how it would work out. Damn it all, and damn me too.

    Time to act like a real leader. I don¡¯t know, maybe it would trigger a cut scene. Give us a little boost for the next wave. Maybe I just wanted to feel like the heroic leader, instead of a loser put in charge of actual heroes.

    ¡±Alright everyone! I don¡¯t know how much of this will stick, but we did the impossible tonight. Beat the Third Wave, beat the Boss Monster, and none of us died. WE DID THE IMPOSSIBLE!¡±

    Only Versai and Kim looked like they really got what I was saying, but I wanted to say it anyway. I had to say it!

    ¡±So I am putting up a reminder- for us and for the monsters. This is a place where the monster-killers live. This is the Tower that WILL NOT FALL!¡±

    I grabbed the totem in my inventory, and selected the West Entrance to hang it. It floated up from my hands and fixed itself over the door. A huge, ugly skull, teeth like a wolf, nose holes like a bat, curling, pointed horns from a particularly sadistic goat. It had been painted over with some sort of blue mud and decorated with long feathers.

    Never mind the monsters, I wanted to run at the sight of the horrible thing!

    ¡±This is it! Proof that we are monster-killers, not monster-victims! Now- On to the next day, and victory!¡±

    Nobody clapped.

    There weren''t even crickets.

    ¡°That. That was the applause line.¡±

    There were some nods from Versai and Kim. The Judiths managed puzzled smiles.

    Should I¡­ ask them to clap?

    ________________________________________________________

    Before the orders could go out, I had to see what new troops there were. I had two new specified summoning crystals. Neither were big or shiny enough to be a six star, but I had seen how nasty Kim¡¯s buffs made the Mikas. I would gratefully accept whatever support I could get.

    Back up to the¡­ oh dear Goddess what was it called? Pool of something? It would come back to me. Radiant something? Maybe?

    Summoning pool. Yeah. Gonna go with that for now.

    ¡°Great God Pachinko, you wronged me in the past, but now is an awesome time to set it right. See how I honor you by engaging in games of chance? Yeah Hozzanah and other religious sounding words. Alehu wahoonie, give me those blessed pulls.¡±

    My muttering was near silent, but very sincere. I tossed in the crystal we got from the Alpha. The upswelling WOOiioooAAAHH music was rather jaunty. Was it a little bit louder than Kim¡¯s? I couldn¡¯t be sure. Fingers crossed.

    From out of the mist came a frankly sorry looking figure. Covered in grime, face almost blackened with dust. A handkerchief covered their head, and a rather complicated looking long-handled tool was slung over her shoulder. She was second only to the Judiths in not dressing to impress- a white tank top stained gray from dust, and a pair of blue jeans tucked into utilitarian boots.

    ¡°Marci. If it needs digging up, shaping up, or planting in, I¡¯m who you call.¡± Three glittering stars flickered over her head. I smiled.

    ¡°Glad to have you on board. Always more work to do building fortifications.¡±

    ¡±Yep.¡±

    There was a long pause. Apparently Marci felt no need to further elaborate. I shrugged. She was right. I tossed the next crystal in, the one the system had called the ¡°Cherished Memory-Rakim.¡±

    Was that what the specified summons crystals were called? It would make sense. Each crystal a ¡°cherished memory¡± of the departed.

    In it went. The music went up. Loud this time. Full on orchestral, with hints of Evanescence. Not at the level that Versai got, but solidly more impressive than Marci¡¯s intro music.

    From out of the mist marched a dark haired beauty- tanned and with the steady look that said she had seen it all before, and wasn¡¯t impressed the first time.

    The forest camo and armor carrier were not flattering on her, but she gave every appearance of not giving the faintest damn about that. Interestingly, she had what appeared to be a short handled spade attached to one hip, a satchel labeled ¡°EXPLOSIVES¡± on the other, and a rifle slung over her shoulder.

    My very favorite thing about her, though, were the four stars glittering over her head. My very first four star summons.

    ¡±Master Sergeant Rakim, Army Corps of Engineers. Holding lines or breaking them, it¡¯s all the same to me.¡±

    I hunted over her uniform, trying to spot a flag. There- on her right shoulder! But not a flag I recognized. Which was¡­ interesting. Because her uniform was telling a story all on its own. Digital Camo. Not even every service branch in America had made that work, let alone other countries. So¡­ what was Rakim¡¯s story?

    ¡±We are very glad to have you. Are you a Front Line unit?¡±

    ¡±Yes Sir. Some of my skills overlap with Workers and Direct Damage, but I am primarily intended to create and hold defensive positions. I can also create traps, or breach enemy defenses. I am also skilled at civil engineering tasks, though less so.¡±

    Pachinko, you came through for me. I retract several of the unkind things I have thought about you. In fact, I¡¯d go a step further. Evil black robe necromancers? I am officially subtracting one punch from the beating coming your way.

    Just one. But hey, -.0000005% of a beating is better than nothing, right?

 Chapter 23- Every Waifu Needs Stats!

    I still had a couple of summons left, but after a Four Star, I mean, sure, better to have than not to have, but my expectations were nil.

    And met. Barely a WoooWooaaaoooaiii in the ¡°heavenly¡± music for the summoning. Just a big oof. Like, oh yeah, someone has to be a follow up act to The Pillows. Someone¡¯s got to open for Hakui Koyori. Yeah, let''s all applaud politely for-

    ¡°Pomoroi ready to deploy.¡±

    A goddamn level one artillery?! HOZZANA! PACHINKO BE PRAISED! I will never sneer at more artillery. In fact, I wouldn¡¯t mind ten more!

    Pomoroi was a rather starched looking lady. She looked like she curved her spine once, hated it, and never did it a second time. I had the uncanny sense that if her brain wasn¡¯t scrambled by the game, she would remember every round she ever fired.

    I mean, still cute as hell in a Napoleonic Military sort of way. Shiny, shiny boots¡­ Cough.

    She was wheeling along a case like the one Radz had. Hers just happened to be royal blue and stamped with a pair of crossed cannons.

    Walking alongside the marching Pomoroi was what can only be called Moe-blob #2.

    ¡±I¡­ I can make the pain go away. Maria is just trying to help!¡±

    I had to take another long look at her and control my reaction before I said anything. Pammy had that ¡°Middle Schooler helping the school nurse¡± thing going, and Maria was in much the same vein.

    The difference was, where Pammy had an eye patch and overwhelmingly white clothes, Maria was badly scarred and her ¡°nurse¡± clothes were edged with black. The scar looked like a burn that covered part of her neck and extended under her clothes.

    The look in her eye¡­ If Radz had converted to a love of obliteration, Maria looked like she had been on the receiving end of the barrage, and ordered to pick up the pieces afterward.

    ¡±Oh! That¡¯s lucky.¡± Versai said.

    ¡±Err, yes, overall some fantastic additions to the squad. Can¡¯t go wrong with more leather boots. Artillery! Can¡¯t go wrong with more artillery!¡±

    ¡±Well, yes, but I was talking about Maria.¡± Versai was sliding me some side eye that I was desperately pretending not to see.

    ¡±She looks like Pammy¡¯s depressed cousin.¡±

    ¡±Kind of, actually. They are part of a set.¡±

    ¡±Wait, what?¡±

    ¡±Like the Blue Roses?¡± Versai waved vaguely. ¡°Put the two of them together, you will see what I mean.¡±

    I nodded slowly. ¡°Alright. Is there some kind of¡­ special thing that is unlocked with the two of them together?¡±

    ¡±No, not with just the two of them. Maybe if you collected the whole set?¡± Versai shrugged. ¡°I have seen a few set effects, and other than whatever you managed to trigger in the Mikas, none of the One Star set effects amount to much.¡±

    ¡±So why is it lucky?¡± I asked.

    ¡±Who needs pain relief? Maria is here. Pain, pain, fly away.¡± She did a little swooping gesture with her hand.

    ¡±She provides anesthetics?¡±

    ¡±Yeah, but more importantly, suicide capsules!¡±

    I face planted into a wall.

    ¡±Suicide capsules?!¡±

    ¡±¡¯Cyanide and sweet dreamlessness,¡¯ that¡¯s what she always says as she administers the dose.¡± Versai nodded dreamily. ¡°Easily my favorite medic.¡±

    ¡±Are you kidding me? If she can reach you to dose you, why not just heal you?¡±

    ¡±Because by that point, the monsters are tearing everyone apart. She kind of flicks this black pill directly into your screaming mouth, and as far as I can tell, she never misses. Crazy range on her too, like twenty paces or something.¡±

    Ah. Right.

    ¡±She is a painless way to check out and wait for the next round.¡±

    Versai¡¯s cheek twitched. ¡°It¡¯s more-or-less instant. I¡¯m either being shredded by a monster, dosed by Maria, the monsters got around me and just¡­¡±

    She shuddered, hard enough to shake her plate armor.

    ¡°Well. One Tower Master dies¡­ eventually dies¡­ and then it¡¯s on to the next one.¡± She smiled with brittle brightness.

    ¡°Ah. Can she dose a Tower Master by any chance?¡±

    ¡°I really don¡¯t know. If it worked, I would be in front of the next Tower Master before I saw it work, if you follow me. Also, I would almost certainly already be dead.¡±

    Gosh what a fun game this is. Already losing that one punch deduction, Black Robe. Adding two punches if you try to promote it as a player welfare thing.

    ¡±How is she as a non-terminal medic?¡±

    ¡±So-so. Worse than Pammy, who is on the upper side of mediocre for a One Star medic, but not the absolute bottom of the barrel. As far as I can tell, she heals less damage per activation than Pammy. Well, I guess you can see all of that in the Hall of Records, but I¡¯m not allowed in there.¡±

    That brought me up with a jolt.

    ¡±You aren¡¯t allowed in there?¡±

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Nope. I just bounce right off the empty air. It feels gross to even try. The Tower Master who passed Wave Three  knew he wouldn¡¯t be passing Wave Four. He just¡­ didn¡¯t use his orders for a long, long time. I don¡¯t know how long.¡±

    I nodded. I had guessed that would happen.

    ¡±So I had a lot of time to experiment. Other Tower Masters had done the same thing, of course, but since he had progressed the furthest, there was more to explore.¡±

    ¡±Makes sense.¡±

    I hesitated. Did I want to go into the Hall of Records? On the one hand, yes, I absolutely did. On the other hand, no I absolutely did not. Both for the same reason- the goddamn character sheets.

    I had what I can only describe as a PTSD flashback to the endless fields of incomprehensible stats, sometimes accompanied by one or two lines of flavor text, often not. It wasn¡¯t like the stats didn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s just that there was usually a meta pick and once you drew them, you could grind for the end-game content.

    Many a happy hour had been spent assembling squads based on my favorite costumes. And then finding the Doujinshi about them. Ordering them from Japan if possible, printing them out if not, and in either case, adding them to Doujinshi Valley. Once they had been suitably venerated, of course.

    How can I have a valley in a tiny duplex? Why, by lining the stairs with bookshelves, of course. Not like there was ever going to be someone over to judge me.

    Bottom line- I needed to know those stats. Not just know them, understand them. It sounded like a miserable job. I sighed, and got to it.

    The Hall of Records managed to instantly become my favorite room in the entire tower. What made it massively, obviously, superior to all other rooms?

    Furniture. The Hall of Records had a wide mahogany desk, and joy of joys, a chair. Now, it wasn¡¯t all perfect. The chair was straight backed and also made of a hard, dark wood. It was, in my considered opinion, neither ergonomic nor breathable. There was a complete absence of foam in the seat. I like a chair with a deep foam cushion. Not too firm, but not so soft that I sink all the way to the plastic.

    I will say it plainly- this was not a chair for marathon sessions of anything. Useless for the appreciation of even the most refined cultural imports. It would be a little better for assembling and painting models, but still not good.

    It was regrettable. Bitterly regrettable.

    I¡¯d joyfully take it anyway.

    The wooden filing cabinet only had five drawers. Interesting. I looked around a little more, and spotted what I thought had been an empty bookcase. There was, to my infinite joy, a high quality figure on top of it. I mean HIGH quality. Even from the desk I could tell it was a resin figure- the level of detail was unreal. It looked like¡­

    Versai.

    I walked over to the bookcase. The full plate armor on her shone, the round shield raised boldly, the long sword pulled back for the thrust. The hammered gold of her blond hair fluttered behind her.

    I gently picked it up. Not resin. It was heavier. Porcelain or some other, rarer, material. A screen popped up in front of me-

    Versai- Vanguard, Six Stars

    HP: 700

    Attack: 350

    Defense: 200

    Block: 350

    Speed: 150

    Resistance: 100

    Level: 1

    Relationship Level: 0

    Weapon: Enlisted, 4/5

    Armor: Enlisted, 0/5

    Special Abilities: ????

    Friends: ????

    Rivals: ????

    Elemental Alignment, Earth

    Part of the Palace Defenders Set.

    Ever since she was a little girl in Gradden March, Versai knew that she would grow up to be a knight, defending Queen and Country. Who could have guessed that a Marquess'' second daughter could become the Queen¡¯s personal Bodyguard?! And if rumors are to be believed, maybe something more¡­

    Likes cool jelly desserts and comfortable socks, dislikes rowdy crowds.

    I blinked, then looked again. Apparently I had read it right the first time.

    I could remember, vividly, Versai on the battlefield last night. The ordinary monsters couldn¡¯t touch her. She passed through them like a storm of razor blades, leaving a trail of mutilated gore behind her. I had set her up for success, of course, but I wasn¡¯t going to take anything away from her. Versai was as lethal as she was beautiful.

    Versai was hard as a coffin nail.

    There was a tinge of horror to that memory. Versai¡¯s inhuman beauty contrasted with the gore of the destroyed monsters. She looked focused. Utterly competent. Untouchable. Quick on her feet as that long sword of hers flashed and dove through tough flesh.

    And, apparently, she liked comfy socks.

    Fair enough, really. I like them too. These little footie leggings weren¡¯t at all the same thing, though they were wonderfully silky. Maybe comfy socks were rare, wherever she came from. Was it a cultural point of pride to have the least comfortable socks possible? Or was it the reverse- seamed stockings or you were peasant scum?

    I put the figure back on the shelf gently, walked over to the desk and slammed my fist into it so hard that either it or my hand should have broken.

    WHAT KIND OF NONSENSE IS THIS!?

    Now¡­ where on this character sheet was ¡°attack speed?¡± The weapon was apparently ¡°much sharper.¡± How much sharper? ¡°Enlisted?¡± What was that? What was with all these blanks?

    I walked over to the filing cabinet and pulled out Kim¡¯s sheet. Her stats were equally opaque.

    HP: 300

    Attack: 10

    Defense: 90

    Resistance: 250

    Block: 10

    Speed: 20

    I remembered how Kim got into a close quarters combat dance-off. Now would that be under defense, or block? Why was her primary stat resistance? Was resistance a defensive stat, or could it also be used to determine how much buffing they could do?

    I forced my breathing to calm down. Some of this was explicable by the looseness of mechanics here. While this was a literal Tower Defense game, there was a lot of mechanical freedom to it. Versai could attack many times in a single minute, or only once. She wasn¡¯t required to attack at a certain cadance. Likewise, there were multiple ways to interpret the word ¡°defense.¡± A sort of active defense might, hypothetically, fit.

    I looked briefly at the ¡°bio¡± for Kim.

    Kim served her National Service with distinction, impressing her sergeants with her positive, cheerful attitude. In civilian life, she joined the idol group Call to Arms with her old army buddies- Park, Lee and Choi. When war broke out, the group re-enlisted and put on shows to improve troop morale.

    Likes dancing and singing, dislikes negative people and venue promoters.

    Kim wore a uniform. Looked like a real uniform, not a costume. Kim¡¯s uniform had an empty sleeve, and a chest full of ribbons. She didn¡¯t lose the one and earn the others by ¡°raising troop morale.¡± Cute as a button, though. There was something endlessly charismatic about that smile. About her refusal to be downtrodden. Her refusal to be a victim.

    It was a backstory. It was character design, made by committee members who specialized in weaponizing the human desire for connection against a terminally lonely populace. It had to be. It. Just. Had to be.

    I couldn¡¯t humanize them. I couldn¡¯t care. Not if I was going to get out of this alive.

    I collapsed into the chair and stared blankly at her sheet on the desk. I didn¡¯t move for a long time.

 Chapter 24- The Only Way Out Is Through

    I couldn¡¯t bring myself to look at Mika¡¯s character sheet. Somehow I knew that whatever I read, I would become violent. The Blue Roses too- would they be described as dancers? Entertainers? Somehow I doubted the developers would acknowledge that they were so Ride or Die for their boss, death and personality obliteration wasn¡¯t enough to break their loyalty. Pains in the neck though they were.

    I slapped my cheeks. Moping wouldn¡¯t solve anything. Violence, that¡¯s what solved problems. Gratuitous, unreasonable, violence.

    Plans for the day¡­ hmm. I definitely needed to keep clearing the dungeon. I wouldn¡¯t go crazy with it- just invest one time unit, clear another building on that burning street. I also needed to harvest resources and build new defenses. I¡¯d been having a lot of success with stake fields, abbatis and a palisade, but my paranoia was flaring. There was only so far that would be able to carry me.

    I¡¯d have to consult with my new Worker Marci and my new Front Line combat engineer Rakim, find out what they thought was doable. They were high enough level that some degree of communication was possible. Should I send Rache out to scout again? Dungeons were apparently rare, but a new resource site would be very welcome.

    I walked back up to the Throne room. It remained an empty hole in space, with just the notice board pinned to the wall. Let¡¯s see the missions of the day, shall we?

    Check in bonus, get! Ten resonance crystals in the pocket. Any new notifications? No. Furniture store? Locked. There was a costume store, but it was also locked. Gnome Market? I didn¡¯t know if there was anything I actually needed to buy. I checked the day¡¯s missions. Timber collection, survive the wave, Ah! There was a mission to continue exploring. Guess Rache was going for a ride after all. Nothing about unlocking new furniture, unfortunately.

    Not much in the way of missions. Come on, devs. That was a classic way to drive the plot! Also gets the players hooked on the dopamine of opening lots of things. No wonder I had never heard of their game.

    I sighed, and called Versai, Rakhim and Marci up. Might as well have the meeting in here. I tried to get my head straight. Put myself in a Tower Lord mindset. They might be¡­ eeeh¡­ biologically? Incapable of disobeying, but that didn¡¯t mean I shouldn''t be a leader. Just the opposite. They needed me to lead. I tried to remember some good examples. Not a lot. Vinland Saga had some¡­ okay¡­ ones.

    Technically Gendo Ikari was a great leader, but¡­ maybe not him. For reasons. King Bradley? I would work for him. Real lead from the front homunculus.

    Huh. Yeah. Word of the day right there- homunculus. Maybe I should get an eyepatch?

    ¡°This is the situation- We need to gather resources, improve our defenses, identify new opportunities, and keep on exploring the relic site, aka, the dungeon.  I¡¯m only investing one time block into the exploration, so that brings us down to four orders. Rache is going to be off exploring the area around the tower some more, so that brings us down to three. How do we use those three orders to best defend ourselves when tonight¡¯s wave hits?¡±

    They all stared back at me blankly. There weren¡¯t even crickets.

    I groaned. ¡°Versai, I know damn well that you, of all people, can respond to a question like that.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t, actually. Not in the way you want. Nothing that could be construed as telling you what to do. There is a tiny bit of wriggle-room on some things, but it¡¯s pretty strict.¡±

    Huh. That fit. Irritating, but it fit.

    ¡°Alright, let''s try this another way. Rakim, what do you think of our current defenses?¡±

    ¡°They exist.¡± Rakim shrugged. ¡°No such thing as a perfect defense. You tailor them to your specific situation and needs.¡±

    ¡°Given the current forces at our disposal, would they be adequate for stopping the next wave?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know, Sir.¡±

    Right, right. Dumb question.

    ¡°You said that you can make defenses. What kind of defenses?¡±

    ¡°I can build walls- rammed earth, reinforced concrete, stone, whatever. Just need the materials. I can also dig trenches, which is a more technical job than you might think. I can build moats, divert rivers, set deadfalls, pit traps, explosive traps, all kinds of nasty things. Again, I just need the right resources.¡±

    She took a deep breath. She had her hair pinned up behind her. I would have thought long hair would look unmilitary, but pinned up like that? She was competence personified.

    ¡°I can also make bunkers and pill-boxes, as well as other fortifications. And build roads, but that seems less relevant.¡±

    I nodded at that. ¡°Marci, what kinds of resources can you gather around here?¡±

    ¡°Trees. Dirt. Rubble.¡± She shrugged. And stopped.

    ¡°You would need a scout to find you a place to mine for stone or metal?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± She nodded. Higher star or not, she didn¡¯t seem eager to speak.

    ¡°Could you build fortifications with the dirt or rubble?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    I looked over at Rakim.

    ¡°Rammed earth and rubble fortifications are a lot more common than you might think. All the biggest city walls were made that way, and just clad with stone or brick. Dirt¡¯s way better than stone at absorbing impacts.¡± She nodded calmly. ¡°With enough dirt or rubble, or both, I can start building much better fortifications than what you have now.¡±

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Big project?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah. We are talking literal tons of dirt here. Depending on the size of the fortifications and the amount of support I get, could be ten, fifteen?¡±

    So all my orders for two or three days. Yikes.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s figure out what we are working with first. RACHE!¡± I yelled. She trotted up the stairs. Could she drive her motorcycle up the stairs? I shook my head. ¡°Orders. Explore the area east of the Tower. If I tell you to look for something specific, are you more likely to find it?¡±

    She tilted her head quizzically. ¡°Chromed lightning?¡±

    No? Yes? Wha?

    ¡°Scout to the east of the Tower.¡±

    ¡°Chromed lighting!¡± She yelled happily and ran off.

    So ¡°Chromed lightning¡± is a yes? Or orders received? I¡¯m still confused.

    ¡°Right. So. While that¡¯s happening. Time to go on our next dungeon crawl. I¡¯m changing the team up this time. Versai, Rakim, Kim, Pammy and a Mika. You are with me.¡±

    I took a deep breath. ¡°Let''s plunder a battlefield. Start Expedition!¡±

    The dungeon, the former Floating Quarter of Gradden March, looked more or less unchanged. The town had that same Studio Ghibli look, by which I mean, it was all things that looked European, but they were jumbled together in a way I had never actually seen in Europe.

    I could feel my skin beginning to crawl the more I looked at it. Like a fist sized spider looking up at you from the toilet bowl. It almost certainly wasn¡¯t real, but it was real enough to cause portions of your anatomy to retract all the way back up into your lungs.

    It took me a minute, standing there surrounded by the frozen fire, to figure it out- the uncanny valley effect. Real enough to be creepy. Not real enough to be completely plausible.

    There were three entrances to buildings off the burning street- one on the right, two on the left. There was an enormous barricade at the end of the street, clearly intended to be impassable. I had a strong suspicion that I was looking at the boss arena. We had already cleared the building on the right- time to go left.

    I pointed to what was clearly intended to be a gambling hall- the sign was lit with the frozen flames, clearly showing a mug with dozens of dice spilling from it.

    ¡°Kim, make us a hole. When she does, Rakim, breach the door. Versai, you are first in, shield up and ready to rock.¡± I looked around. They all looked a lot calmer than I felt. ¡°Ready? GO!¡±

    They moved like they had rehearsed it a hundred times before. A hole in the fire burst open, and in less than a second Rakim was there. She shoved a prybar in between the door and the frame and slammed her body backwards, smashing the door open and pulling herself out of the way at the same time. Versai had her shield up and rushed in, Rakim and Kim close behind her.

    ¡°Mika, Pammy, in with me!¡±

    The room was a series of small square tables, bigger than at the Blue Roses, with what looked like a few table games setup. Nothing as recognizable as roulette or craps, but clearly special made tables.

    A few things happened very quickly. Six headless men in black trousers, a white shirt and black vests had stood from various tables, and were throwing knives at Versai. Rakim knocked over one of the tables, lay down behind it and got her rifle up. Mika jumped in front of me and planted her pavaise, her metal doughboy helmet reflecting the light of the swinging chandelier. And I? Stood there like a moron.

    It took me a very long second to kneel down behind Mika. Kim was lying flat next to Rakim as Versai rushed to close with the knife flinging gamblers.

    ¡°Kim, buff and debuff. Mika, Rakim, prioritize anyone flanking Versai.

    Pammy! Where is Pammy?!

    I looked around desperately. She was standing, pressed against the doorframe, shivering. It looked like the Gamblers were ignoring her for now.

    ¡°Pammy, kneel down behind me! Now!¡±

    She lurched towards me, the sudden movement alerting the gamblers. One flung a knife towards her.

    She was a golem. Just four days old. She looked like she was twelve.

    ¡°NO!¡± I tried to lunge for her, to protect her tiny body with my own. Waiting to feel the knife sink into my back!. There was a tink noise, audible in between the cracks of Rakim¡¯s rifle and the unsettlingly meaty chunk noises Versai was making.

    ¡°Never fear, Mika¡¯s here!¡± She had raised her shield and blocked the knife. For her troubles, she caught two more in the gut. I hauled Pammy over, kneeling behind the almost nude Mika.

    ¡°Oh No! Where¡¯s the ouchie?¡± Pammy quickly started healing Mika up. Versai had worked her way through the gamblers, now posting up by one of the entrances and chopping any that tried to come in. The room was cleared. A few seconds later-

    ¡°The hallway is empty now. Seems to be all of them.¡± Versai said. A casual flick of her long sword was enough to rid it of blood.

    ¡°Great. Great job everyone. I¡¯m just going to¡­ take a minute, here.¡± I couldn¡¯t hyperventilate. I could hug my knees in shock. What had I been thinking? What had I been thinking!? They were dolls! Not real people, dolls. Even if they were the mutilated souls of dead people shoved into doll bodies, they were definitionally not alive. None of them would be saved if I died. They would all be instantly obliterated, for all I knew.

    I squeezed my legs even harder. Trying to feel that animal reassurance.

    ¡°I told you. First thing I told you about the Five Stars and under. Don¡¯t think of them as people.¡± Versai¡¯s voice was tired. ¡°It only leads to pain.¡±

    ¡°I know. I know! It was stupid. But she looks like a twelve year old school girl. And I saw that damn documentary about the Lilly Princess Corps and I didn¡¯t want a child on my conscience!¡±

    ¡°The Lilly Princess Corps?¡±

    ¡°Long story you don¡¯t have any context for. Schoolgirls, mostly in their early teens, were drafted as nurses during a brutal war. Lied to about what they would be doing. Many died. Many killed themselves rather than be captured. Not¡­ a lot of them, in the grand scheme of things. So many were dying. It was just later, when their story got out. They were school girls, given little to no training, and sent into Hell. They were scared. They suffered. And then they died.¡±

    Versai looked over at Pammy. ¡°I¡¯ve never figured out her story, but that sounds about right.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. She¡¯s a doll now. And if you want to ever do anything for her, you have to live. And even if she dies ten thousand times, it doesn¡¯t matter. You can just draw her from the pool again, with no memory of any of those deaths.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    I didn¡¯t uncurl for a couple more minutes, but eventually I shoved up onto my feet.

    ¡°Kim, loot everything.¡± Fingers crossed. Ah, wait, was that in bad taste?

    ¡°Hey Boss, you should see this!¡±

    ¡°Oh, good loot?¡±

    ¡°Not good loot, boss. The BEST!¡±

 Chapter 25- Roll â€˜em Bones

    Kim summarily presented a small heap of Rune Bones as well as a cosmetic hat usable by scouts. It was a sort of fez looking thing. It would look awful on Rache. Eternally banished to the depths of the inventory, instantly, no hope of freedom.

    ¡°So where is this ¡®best loot?¡¯¡± I asked.

    ¡°Here. Take a look at this absolute beauty.¡± Kim proudly offered me a little box. Roughly the size of my palm and maybe three inches tall.

    ¡°What is¡­¡± I spotted a key sticking out of the side. ¡°It¡¯s a music box.¡±

    ¡°YES!¡± Kim shouted, leaping surprisingly high in the air and punching upwards. Sort of a cute version of Shoryuken? The emotion was lost on me.

    ¡°Oh boy. A music box. By any chance, does it provide stat buffs when it plays music?¡±

    ¡°Sorry boss? I think the crowd noise made me a little deaf.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t quite silent in here, but no one was chattering.

    ¡°Got it. Thank you, Kim.¡±

    I sighed and cranked the key a couple of times. The lid sprung open, revealing a beautiful dancer, dressed in a cheerfully revealing version of the same dresses the Blue Roses wore. Cut low and tight, with thigh high splits along the sides, a single lickable leg thrust forward.

    The song was quick paced, jaunty. I didn¡¯t recognize a lot of the words, so I assume it was slang. My shoulder brushed something hard as steel. I glanced left, then it was my turn to leap alarmingly high. Versai had put her armored shoulder to mine, staring fixedly at the music box.

    I started to demand to know what she was thinking but¡­ well¡­ she looked a little scary. I let the music play all the way to the end.

    There was silence. She kept opening her mouth to speak. I could see her trying to move her hands, and couldn¡¯t. Something held her back.

    ¡°Would you like to hold the music box, Versai? You could play the song as much as you liked, when not on a mission.¡±

    ¡°More than I have wanted anything in my whole life. I don¡¯t have anywhere to store it though. I would appreciate it if you could keep it safe for me until the end of the exploration today.¡± I couldn¡¯t put words to what was in her voice. So many things. Things I probably didn¡¯t have words for at all.

    ¡°I can do that. Shall we give it another listen now?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t possibly say.¡±  Her eyes were begging me to turn the key, so I did.

    The song ran through once more. Jaunty. Something rumbling and tumbling.

    ¡°Something about gambling?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± Gated behind the relationship system again.

    ¡°Anything you can tell me about this gambling hall, beyond what I can see?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it!¡±

    ¡°Gradden March?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it!¡±  She would have been sobbing, if the Game would have let her. I could hear it in her voice, even if I couldn¡¯t see it in her face.

    ¡°Another time, then. When you do want to talk about it.¡±

    She nodded her head, eyes fixated on the music box. I felt like I should be sweaty. My doll body didn¡¯t sweat, but this was a sweaty moment. She was staring. Fixated. Not on me, but close enough. I groped for the right words.

    ¡°Versai? I¡¯m putting it in my inventory now. Nothing can hurt it while it¡¯s in there.¡± As far as I know, anyway. ¡°We need to clear this building so we have every edge to beat tonight¡¯s wave. Pushing on to day five. Which means I need you.¡±

    She kept right on staring. I know she heard me. She just couldn¡¯t tear her eyes away. I saw her mouth working, trying to say something. I dropped my hand, putting the music box into my inventory. She lurched a step forward before she recovered.

    I gave her a minute. I reached out to pat her shoulder, hesitated, and put my hand down again. Nobody wants to be touched by me. Which is fair enough. I don¡¯t really want to be touched by others either. Not IRL, or as close to RL as this world was.

    I took the time to take a closer look at the gambling hall. Definitely not as nice as the Blue Roses¡¯ place. Much more rough-and-ready, I supposed, though the tables were varnished dark wood, the felt table tops were free of stains, and the bar looked like it was very generously supplied with drinks. No stage here- the entertainment was the games.

    Happy thought, maybe there would be a cashier¡¯s office. Nothing that looked like a cashier¡¯s cage in sight, though. Pity.

    Smaller than I had expected a casino to be, but my perspective had clearly been warped by Las Vegas. It was basically one big room, with a door leading to a hallway at the back.

    ¡°Kim, anything behind the bar?¡±

    ¡°Nothing we can bring home, Boss.¡±

    Figured. Versai looked like she had gotten herself together and gave me a nod.

    ¡°Alright, Versai leads the way, then Rakim, then Kim, then Pammy, then me, and Mika protects the rear. We¡¯ll work our way down the hall. Versai, how many doors are there?¡±

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    ¡°Two, Tower Master.¡±

    Two? Seemed¡­ not enough. ¡°Alright, start with the closest one.¡±

    We stacked up outside the door in the order I set. Versai didn¡¯t bother trying the doorknob, she just directly booted it in, then rushed into the room. I could hear throwing knives pinging off her shield before Rakim¡¯s rifle announced itself. Kim was already casting her buffs before she entered the room. I held Pammy back. ¡°Mika, go! Pammy and I will be behind you.¡±

    We rushed in behind Mika¡¯s big shield. I looked around quickly- this room was even bigger than the first, looked like an old fashioned warehouse with wooden crates stacked on long shelves. I thought fast.

    ¡°Rakim, can you knock over those shelves?¡±

    There was a burst of fire from her rifle. Three rounds clustered perfectly center left on the chest of a knife throwing gambler that unwisely popped out of cover.

    ¡°They look bolted to the floor, Sir.¡±

    Damn. Alright, what about the crates themselves? These guys looked pretty mindlessly aggressive. I could work with that.

    The room had gone quiet for a moment, but I didn¡¯t think for one second we had got them all.

    ¡°Alright, Rakim, start hauling some of those crates over and make a strongpoint we can defend with them. Looks like they only attack from range?¡±

    Versai nodded. ¡°Yes, even if you are right up next to them, instead of stabbing, they try to throw their knives from just inches away. Doesn¡¯t work well.¡±

    I grinned grimly in the gloomy gambling warehouse. ¡°It occurs to me that you are a hard counter to them. You have a shield and a strong melee attack, as well as being quick on your feet.¡±

    ¡°Yep. Classic vanguard/direct damage situation. It¡¯s what Vanguards get used for a lot.¡± She smiled her own grim little smile. Hers was, of course, like an angel fell into Hell and realized that they were in a target rich environment.

    ¡°Good. Well, what I don¡¯t want is to get flanked again. So we are going to fort up here. Rakim, can you make traps in the alleys between the shelves?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Lots of big crates well above head height? No problem.¡±

    ¡°Good. We fort up here. Versai will press forward until she makes contact with the enemy, then falls back. Try to lure them into a trap if you can. If not, just straight back here where you, Mika and Rakim can jump on them together. Rakim, keep replacing traps if they get triggered. Ideally I want to be able to know a given alley is enemy free because the traps are still intact.

    They nodded and got to work. It went remarkably quickly. Rakim was good at this kind of work. The coarse wooden boxes were hauled around into a makeshift barricade, nothing fancy but more than enough.

    Then she and Versai got to work. It was tense. The air in the warehouse was stuffy, cool, but still choked with the smell of burning wood. The crates were unlabeled. Which I would have expected from devs of this¡­ sterling quality, but seemed weird if this was, in fact, a place ripped out of time.

    I tried the lid on one of the boxes. Nailed shut. Figured.

    There was less shooting than I thought. Certainly only a few of the meaty chunk and swish noises I had come to associate, reassuringly, with Versai. I did, however, get to occasionally enjoy a loud CRASH or two. It seemed that the headless gamblers weren¡¯t all dumb, and were determindly trying to flank around the mobile attackers. Maybe even pick us off.

    There was exactly one who got past the traps. A thoroughly buffed Mika punched so many bolts into his chest, he could do double duty as a novelty hat rack. It quite cheered me up, watching the knives ¡°ping¡± harmlessly off her helmet and shield.

    Armor is a good thing. Get more armor. Get all the armor. Fingers crossed for more armor kits.

    That being said, I was a bit worried. What if the enemies turned up with Katanas? Well known fact- Katanas can slice through steel like paper. Other swords, armor, doesn¡¯t matter. Gets cut. I would have to think of anti-Katana tactics.

    The gamblers didn¡¯t seem to have much luck on their side. It took a long while, but eventually, Versai and Rakim came back.

    ¡°Looks clear. All the traps are still in place, so either they are hiding out very, very carefully, or we got them all, Sir.¡± Rakim reported.

    ¡°Excellent job. Loot?¡±

    ¡°Two weapons upgrade kits for workers.¡±  I blinked at that.

    ¡°In this whole¡­ admittedly not huge¡­ warehouse, there were only two weapons kits?¡±

    Versai nodded, looking troubled. She kept opening and closing her mouth. I stopped her with a hand.

    ¡°Versai, could you open one of these crates for me?¡±

    ¡°No, that would destroy my sword!¡±

    ¡°Remember the tree branch?¡±

    Versai blinked, then carefully hacked at the very edge of a box. Her sword barely slowed as it passed through.

    ¡°That never ceases to be unnatural.¡± She grumbled. Then with a seemingly easy swing, she sliced off the top of a box three feet on the cube.

    ¡°That should have, best case scenario, made my sword get stuck and probably damaged the edge. Maybe even snapped the whole blade, if the angle and point of impact were wrong.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised the steel is so bad.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t!¡± She practically hissed. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it!¡±

    Ah. I waved away the conversation and took a look in the box. It was¡­ well it was booze. Booze I had no interest in drinking. I frowned a bit at it. The packaging was kind of dumb. It was bottles of something unlabeled, probably wine or whisky, nestled in straw. But this box was a three foot cube. Was it wine and straw all the way down?

    ¡°Empty it out.¡±

    Pammy and Mika dug through it dutifully, making a bit of a mess on the floor. Yep. Only the top third was wine. The bottom two thirds were¡­ books? I picked one up. Sinews of War. Another, a door stopper sized book called To The Far Shore. Presumably about swimming. A worn, almost tattered, copy of Ducks, and How To Make Them Pay.

    Alarming. I had heard of some specialty¡­ providers¡­ in Thailand that supplied a notoriously frugal clientele, but those had always been nothing more than disgusting rumors. So far, at least.

    I tried to put it in my inventory. It wouldn¡¯t go. I tried to open the book, just to see if it was as depraved as I suspected. The covers seemed glued to the pages, like a wooden block. It turned out the other books were much the same. ¡°Sorry, Versai.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for trying.¡±

    ¡°Let''s check a few more crates.¡± We picked them more or less at random. All had the wine on top, all were smuggling what could be broadly categorized as ¡°stuff.¡±  Curtains, sets of plates, children¡¯s toys, four hundred bars of soap, neatly cut and still smelling of laurel. Some were mixed- bed linens wrapping what looked like meh-tier antiques, or shoes stuffed with little candies, and carefully covered with monogrammed napkins.

    Nothing that was the least blind bit of use, in other words. Or worth smuggling. I had thought that the boxes were stowed upside down, but the top was clearly a lid. I couldn¡¯t figure it out.

    ¡°Let''s go to the next room. I smell a rat. And I¡¯m not leaving until it gives me its cheese.¡±

 Chapter 26- Canâ€™t All Be Heroes

    We queued up outside the second door. I had put myself at the end of the stack this time, and bumped Mika up ahead of Pammy. This was the last unexplored room, so I wasn¡¯t worried about being attacked from behind. What I was worried about was what the hell was going on here.

    My summons didn¡¯t get tired, and with the possible exception of Versai, didn¡¯t get bored either. So this would start when I was ready, and I decided not to rush it. Too much just didn¡¯t add up.

    A gambling hall but no teller¡¯s cage. Could be a cultural thing. Maybe they didn¡¯t buy chips here. Cash on the table like the old Wild West saloons. Except those were literally saloons- bars, with maybe some rooms upstairs for ¡°baths,¡± and ¡°companionship.¡± Tables where people could play cards were just that- tables. You bought your drinks, you got to sit at the table and play. I strongly doubted that was how this place operated.

    So how exactly did the owners make money? Because they had to be earning off this place somehow, and I doubt just the drinks covered it.

    The next thought, which the warehouse pointed directly at, was that this place was a cover for smuggling. All those crates with things hidden inside the straw, covered up with bottles of wine. But, again, that didn¡¯t add up. For that cover to make sense, they would either need to be importing so much wine warehousing space was reasonable, or exporting so much that they needed to hold mass quantities before they could ship it.

    There had been exactly zero brewing equipment in sight so far. Nor any evidence of any kind of industrial process. So that was a no.

    The things they were smuggling were worthless or near enough. Nobody wants your ratty snowshoes. Or your stained tablecloths, banged up flatware, or nana¡¯s crystal candy dish. Even if it was functional before the game stole it from wherever, it still wouldn¡¯t have been worth anything to anyone who wasn¡¯t the original owner. And when you get right down to it, who the hell attaches even a small warehouse to a bar in the middle of a town?

    I really wanted to ask Versai, but that wasn¡¯t going to work. She had pulled herself together, but I could see that this dungeon was doing a number on her. Shame, really, because she was a dungeon clearing machine. I needed her head in the game, but we seemed to be raiding her home town¡¯s Floating Quarter, so. That was a thing.

    I gently banged my head against the wall, but no ideas shook out. I always thought I was a pretty smart guy. I went to college. I run my own business¡­ technically. I own my own place. I do a lot better than most.

    This place had me feeling really dumb. Just what the hell am I missing?

    The first and most obvious idea was hidden passages. Or hidden rooms generally. I laughed softly. ¡°I didn¡¯t bring Rache because I thought she would be more useful scouting, and isn¡¯t very useful in tight quarters. Didn¡¯t think about her ability to find hidden things.¡±

    Versai nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t know that she has a specific ability for that, but yeah, that is the kind of thing a scout would be good at. Before you ask, no. I¡¯m decent at spotting an ambush, but that¡¯s more life experience rather than a specific skill.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha. Alright. Nothing new is coming to mind. Let''s get ready to kick in the door.¡±

    I counted them down. Rakim stacked up on the other side of the door from Versai, this time. I wanted to keep evolving my tactics. It sucked doing it live, as it were, but thanks to the ¡°exceptional¡± game design, there was nowhere else to do it.

    Maybe a training room would unlock at wave-who-cares. Just¡­ infuriating.

    Rakim jammed her prybar into the gap between the door and frame, and smashed it open. Versai was through before the door had managed to bounce off the wall. The rattling sound of the daggers battering her shield came loud and fast. There was an odd rhythm to it, like a particularly militant drumline was establishing its authority.

    Rakim crouched low and leaned in around the door frame. The short black rifle she carried made solid crack-crack-crack noises, not the deafening booms I had expected. The scene hammered me again and again with that sense of alienation, of wrongness. Mika pushed into the room after Versai, adding her shield to the mix.

    I risked a quick glance in before yanking my head back. Kim¡¯s buffs were doing their usual impressive work, meaning that the defending gamblers were getting torn apart by Versai, Mika and Rakim. This room looked more like an office, but filled with long shared tables. Huge stacks of paper were scattered everywhere.

    The layout was simple- just a big rectangle, but what made it nightmarish were the number of enemies within. With a quick glance I could count an easy dozen. There might be more, popping up from behind the tables, flinging their knives and ducking down again. Worse, they were keeping very mobile, doing their best to flank our sole melee fighter.

    ¡°Versai, fall back!¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Ma-¡± The rest of her words came as a sort of Ghurk noise.

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    I swear I didn¡¯t see him coming at all. One second there was no one between Versai and the door, and the next an old man was behind her, a long knife stabbed up into her armpit. It whipped out and stabbed her neck.

    Versai showed her experience there, using a move I would never in a million years have expected. She shoved her ass into him. Just dropped her weight down, stuck her ass out, and bounced him back a step. She swung her shield around in a vicious ark, smashing into his knee and sweeping his legs out from under him. Completing her turn, she brought her sword down in a vicious chop.

    First time I have ever seen anyone decapitated. I could have lived without- wait. The body faded away. Other than the initial spray of blood, there was nothing on the floor. ¡°Versai! Fall back to the door! NOW!¡±

    She scrambled backward, getting to her feet and trying to keep her shield up. The gamblers hadn¡¯t stopped throwing their knives, after all. And worse, the closer she got to the door, the more she blocked Mika and Rakim¡¯s line of sight. The blades were falling at a furious rate now, and some were slipping through, clipping Versai¡¯s legs. Most skittered off her armor- most.

    ¡°Pammy, how close do you have to be to heal someone?¡±

    ¡°Um. Um. Pammy has to be able to touch them to make the ouchies go away.¡±

    I momentarily blanked on the right swear. I felt like I needed to use all of them, all at once.

    ¡°Alright, you get ready. The second Versai crosses that doorway, you start healing her, okay?¡±

    ¡°Pammy can do it!¡±

    Versai¡¯s costume changed. I think it was the first time I remember seeing it. Parts of her armor just vanished, or were torn like cloth. The blood looked painted on. Literally painted on- I didn¡¯t see it drip.

    I hated myself a little for noticing that her tummy was just as firm as I thought it would be.

    She reached Mika and Rakim by the door, and Kim and I reached out and yanked her back through. We got her on the ground, covered by the wall.

    ¡°Mika, fall back and block the entire door with your shield. Rakim, shoot over her shield while staying in cover as much as possible!¡±

    Pammy was already hard at work. ¡°Oh no, where¡¯s the ouchie?¡± Long streamers of bandages seemed to fly out and around Versai, wrapping her, then vanishing in a flash of pale green light.

    ¡°Oh no, where¡¯s the ouchie?¡± The bandages went flying again.

    ¡°Damn! Versai, talk to me! Is it a bleed effect? Have you been debuffed and prevented from healing?¡±

    She blinked up at me like I was being crazy.

    ¡°Bleed debuff? How would that even work? I¡¯m injured, but other than that I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just that it will take Pammy a few activations to heal me, as I have more health than One Stars, by a lot.¡±

    Ah¡­ right. I do remember seeing that on her character sheet.

    ¡°Give her a few rounds, and I will be back in it. Did you see that guy who got me?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I think he can turn invisible.¡±

    ¡°Must be a camouflage effect, not invisibility.¡± Versai shook her head. ¡°The only person who I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± Her eyes went wide. I saw her mouth working, trying to say something. I rested my hand on her shoulder, hearing the reassuring sounds of rifle fire and crossbow bolts coming from Mika and Rakim.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright. I get it. Really. I get it.¡±

    I tried to think if there was anything I could do to create dust or smoke in the room, but the game really discouraged that kind of lateral thinking. Maybe I could cobble something together with enough time, but I didn¡¯t want to give them more time to get organized. Or to let that invisible old man start hunting us.

    ¡°Got any grenades Rakim?¡±

    ¡°I can craft them with the right ingredients.¡±

    No then. Hard way it is.

    ¡°Kim, can you set fires with your powers?¡±

    ¡°Not really my thing, Boss. Maybe under the right circumstances?¡±

    ¡°Like a room full of paper? Like that room right there?¡±

    ¡°No can do, Boss!¡±

    Are you kidding me?! Is it limited to cut scenes or special events? Oh what am I saying, of course it is. That¡¯s why she could suppress the fires to let us into the building, but couldn¡¯t buff fire resistance during the battle. FANTASTIC. I AM VERY HAPPY AND CALM.

    The rain of knives was slowing down. The weight of fire was heavier on their side, but throwing knives were a losing bet against an actual wall and a proper shield. Anything that did slip through was healed by Pammy.

    ¡°Alright, we hold here and clear out as many as we can. I¡¯m assuming the old man isn¡¯t going to mindlessly rush at us, so everyone stays put and focuses on clearing out the ones we can see from the doorway. Kim, keep ¡®em buffed.¡±

    ¡°Got it boss.¡±

    After that it was down to the waiting. I didn¡¯t watch them work. There was something sickly about it. Robot dolls shooting humanoid fish in a barrel. Besides, there was nothing more I could do to help, and sticking my head around the corner meant risking a knife between the eyebrows. Not doing that twice in one raid.

    It took a few minutes. Slower rate of fire combined with the way the gamblers kept moving around and using cover dragged things out. The results might have been different if the gamblers could have rushed the door, but they stayed at range. Why, I don¡¯t know. Programming, but¡­ seemed half assed. Maybe there were party compositions that tactic would be lethal against.

    Necromancer gacha-game devs. Nobody said they were nice, and nobody said they were good either.

    ¡°Clear.¡±

    ¡°No. It isn¡¯t. There is an invisible old man in there. Remain combat ready.¡±

    ¡°No, she¡¯s right. The room is empty.¡± The voice was dry, withered sounding. ¡°All those children are quite dead.¡± I felt the point of a knife press into my throat. ¡°And so are you.¡±

 Chapter 27- Canâ€™t All Be Villains Either

    My summons whipped around, as did Versai. And then they froze, not sure what to do. I noticed the lights dimming. Just around the edges of the room- our little stretch of hallway remained in the light.

    ¡°I think you all know not to move.¡± A very dry voice. Very steady voice too. Aristocratic to the middle part of the speaker¡¯s bones. I saw Versai standing just a few feet from me, easily in range of her blade. A blade she didn¡¯t even raise. Instead her eyes were laser focused on the man standing behind me.

    ¡°Im. Impossible.¡± She murmured.

    ¡°I could say the same to you. Though I must thank you for my temporary sanity.¡± I could hear a trace of warmth in the old voice, even as the tip of the knife seemed to dig in fractionally more.

    ¡°This old man was shocked to realize he was stabbing his niece in the neck. Despite all those hours of training her not to get stabbed in the neck. Over many years. Which I was roped into doing on my very rare days off. Including my birthday. Which you forgot. Twice.¡±

    There was a dry sniff.

    ¡°And I don¡¯t believe you have practiced your harmonichord playing at all. Not with your nails looking like that.¡±

    ¡°UNCLE SEBASTIAN!¡±

    Versai scrambled up from the floor, rushing towards us. The old man stepped back, jerking me back with him. ¡°Back! Stay back!¡±

    Versai jerked to a halt, looking confused. Looking gutted.

    ¡°It¡¯s the law of this mad place. So long as I have your commander hostage, so long as I am talking, I can refrain from attacking. I have learned a few rules of this place, though not enough to break them. Ultimately, you must find an opportunity to free him from me by guile or force, because I will kill him eventually.¡±

    I could feel the old man rasping a little. He seemed unused to talking.

    ¡°I can more or less guess some of your questions. Your lord father had long since been sent to the front lines with all his banners, save the Household Guard. The Guard he left with the Marchonesse. And while I mean no disrespect to your lady mother¡­¡±

    He paused a moment, then coughed and continued with more heat.

    ¡°Actually, no, I mean quite a bit of disrespect. God, I have hated that useless witch for what feels like centuries! A fine selection of a wife, if one cares about good breeding.¡±

    There was another dry cough. Was there a problem with his lungs?

    ¡°Literally good breeding, you and your sisters turned out wonderfully, despite her ¡°nurturing.¡± Thank God ap Gradden was a qualified father when he had the time and was around. We all did our best to fill in the gap your mother¡¯s absence provided. Sometimes working very hard to keep her absent. Ardrale dove on more than a few knives for you girls. Not that she ever complained. She loved you like you were her own.

    ¡°Once the Marchioness didn¡¯t have your father to keep her from the breakables and the four of you wisely got out, she decided to throw herself into the war effort. Supporting the home front, and her brave girls.¡± I could hear the curly contempt in that last sentence.

    ¡°We did the best we could. Ardrale kept the manor running despite your mother¡¯s determined efforts to ruin it. Preshvosa more or less oversaw the land, though it was far more than she was ever trained to manage. And I? I was forced to play both spymaster, criminal syndicate leader, smuggler, town councilor and military strategist for the parts of Gradden March that didn¡¯t attend balls.¡±

    Fury was creeping into his voice now. ¡°Do you know how incredibly bad management of a territory has to become if the Marquess¡¯ brother has to operate a smuggling ring just to make sure the citizens can actually have their things when they evacuate? She declared household goods war materiel, as any goods that existed didn¡¯t need to be manufactured again, and therefore the work could be turned to the production of weapons, armor, military wagons and the like.¡±

    He drew a rasping breath.

    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me how a mis-matched set of cheap clay plates and wooden cups helps in the production of iron arrowheads in their tens of thousands. Given that the March has no iron mines. I¡¯m just a barrow boy raised above my station, you see. If I was a proper aristocrat, I would understand these things.¡±

    ¡°Adopted?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The Old Marquesse had an eye for talent. I¡¯d say I repaid his generosity a few thousand times over by now. Not that I begrudge the labor. It was, up until the last few years, a satisfying life. Many interesting problems to solve. Cute nieces to dote on. No children of my own, alas, but I never wanted for companionship.¡±

    Another long slow breath. The knife was digging in a little harder now.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°I can feel my mind slipping. I think¡­ Ah¡­ the monsters came. Well, you know how that story goes.¡±

    I opened my mouth to say that I did not, in fact, know how that story goes, but he gigged me a little before I could speak.

    ¡°No more questions. Nothing I want to hear from you anyhow. They came here, the Home Guard fought delaying actions where they could, the people fled wherever they could. The refugees could move pretty fast, comparatively. They were only allowed to leave with a blanket and three days rations. I did what I could for them. ¡®Exporting useless wine, and turning the gold of the foolish into the strength of the March,¡¯ was how I explained it to the Marchioness. Right up until the monsters were visible from the city walls.¡±

    The old man¡¯s voice was gaining in speed and heat, if not strength. ¡°Then, THEN! Having dithered for months, even forbidding the ¡°Necessary labor pool¡± from ¡°Fleeing their posts¡± she realizes that perhaps, PERHAPS, training some of them to fight might have been more important than ¡°Ensuring the labor pool remains flexible and able to nimbly adjust to the needs of the overall strategic materiel production requirements of the nation!¡± She doesn¡¯t even know what those words mean! She just didn¡¯t want to have to make decisions, so she decided that everyone needed to stay put until she decided what she needed them to do!¡±

    Oh he was flying now. I made eye contact with Rakim. All of us were in sight of the old man, but I reckoned Rakim was the only one with a real chance to make a move. Versai¡¯s eyes were wide with horror. Hands twitching uselessly at her sides.

    ¡°Someone, I¡¯m guessing old Brudden, explained to the vile moron that they simply did not have enough bodies to hold the city wall. Especially since she had ordered the militia disbanded as it harmed morale by suggesting our efforts on the front line would somehow be insufficient.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know it was possible to pour so much venom into so few words.

    ¡°So she ordered the city evacuated, except for the High Town, with its spell towers and enchanted barriers and goddamn five year granary! All of which would have been fine, if the monsters weren¡¯t already in sight of the walls. Do you know how fast a peasant marches? Or a random townsfolk with a wagon?¡±

    He was panting now, voice going dry. ¡°Fifteen miles a day. Fifteen, if they are fit and the roads aren¡¯t too bad. Twenty, if they push hard, and don¡¯t mind losing people to accidents and disease. The monsters can run forty, effortlessly, and average sixty. Sixty miles a day, and can fight at the end of it too. Your mother killed the City, Versai! She killed Gradden March!¡±

    He took a long breath. ¡°Well I¡¯m an old man. I¡¯ve done my bit for family and Crown. You girls were out doing heroic things, Gradden was bathing his banners in blood all across the Iron Hills- I was done. No more webs to spin, no more wisdom to whisper into deaf ears. So I spoke with the few sensible people I knew in the lower town. Reached out to the old militia. I asked the same question to them that I¡¯d asked the damn Marchioness. ¡°Are you confident about running sixty miles a day, every day, forever?¡±

    ¡°You rallied the Floating Quarter.¡± Versai¡¯s voice was soft, tinged with horror and exhaustion. ¡°You rallied the¡­ the¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh yes. All the unspeakable-in-polite-company crowd. Most of them scattered and ran, of course. They had the morale of damp bread and the discipline of a toddler in a pastry shop. They didn¡¯t owe our family a single damn thing. I didn¡¯t blame them. Mocked their shortsightedness, but didn¡¯t blame them. Some stayed. We built barricades. We fought like hell, trying to buy at least some time. Hoping that at least somebody would make it out alive.¡±

    I felt the knife pressing harder. ¡°Whatever you are going to do, do it fast, Sweety. I can¡¯t keep this monologue going much longer. It was Crusher Jim, Madame, and I at the end. She had her girls with her, and no unit of Ironblood Knights could touch them for loyalty or discipline. Crusher and his bully boys didn¡¯t give a damn about life and death, they just saw a sea of blood waiting for them and for once in their lives they got to swim as much as they liked.¡±

    The old timer traced the tip of the knife along the side of my neck, eventually running it down my back and over to my kidneys. I kept very, very still.

    ¡°As for myself? I rounded up my more reliable smugglers, gambling hall operators, spies, informants, commodity speculators and other enjoyers of games of lies and chance. We provided the long range bombardment, trying to thin the monsters out before Crusher¡¯s boys started wading in.¡±

    I saw Rakim shifting slightly. She had kept her gun on the old man this whole time, of course, though there was no chance of her shooting him with him standing directly behind me. Was she¡­ aiming a little away from the old man, now?

    ¡°The inevitable happened, and we have been trapped in this madhouse ever since. Forced to kill over, and over, and over. Mindless repetition. I have no idea how many I have butchered in these halls, or how often I have been butchered. I have only been able to speak because you and I, Versai, share the same origin. Or so I think. It feels thematically appropriate. I keep trying to find the edges of the funhouse mirror. With some success.¡±

    He was shuddering now. I could see the lights flickering. The air is growing colder, denser. Something was breaking and we wouldn¡¯t like the results when it did. ¡°While there is still time- there is a safe in that room, built into the third table from the door. The code is your birthday. Someone led your mother into that madness, I was never able to find out who. One of Crusher Jim¡¯s boys had one of her maids on the side- if the truth lies anywhere in this madhouse, it¡¯s in Jim¡¯s fighting pit.¡±

    Rakim¡¯s rifle cracked once, and I swear I felt the bullet slide past me. It caught Sebastian in the arm, making him jerk the blade away from me. I stole a move from Versa and shoved my ass backwards as I dove forward. There was a rip of fire from Rakim, and a heavy crack from Mika¡¯s crossbolt. I kept crawling away from the old man until the shooting stopped.

    ¡°Good. Good. It¡¯s not goodbye forever, Versai. Not in this place. Just goodbye for now. Always loved¡­¡±

    ¡°Uncle Sebastian? Uncle? UNCLE!¡± Versai was on the old man, hugging him. He had a long face, and kind eyes. There was something in the corner of his mouth that hinted at wickedness, at knowing all the best jokes. All those scandalous things your parents wouldn¡¯t want you to hear, he would tell you.

    ¡°I just found you. I just found you. I finally found someone I could talk to. You can¡¯t go. You can¡¯t go. You can¡¯t leave me like this, Uncle. Come on. I know. I¡¯ll play Bluebells for you. You love listening to me play Bluebells. You can sing and I can play. Then we can go to the moat and skip stones across. I bet I can do four skips now. You would be so proud of me. We can talk about how Hanna is doing or, or, or, Gisel. I can tell you about how beautiful she looked dancing with the Third Prince. You could tell me all the gossip from home. Then you could hug me and kiss me on the forehead the way you alway do. Please. Please say something. Please. UNCLE!¡±

 Chapter 28- The Honorable Dead

    I don¡¯t know how long we waited, in that broken-time place. It really didn¡¯t matter. Versai sat on the floor, hugging her uncle¡¯s body. Whispering to him, now and then. Shivering. I explored the building a bit. I found the safe he mentioned, but I had no idea what Versai¡¯s birthday was. There were a few chests, loaded mostly with building supplies. Resource Packs, now. No resonance crystals, though. Nor were there any Cherished Memory fragments. Just lots and lots of resources.

    Rakim looked pretty chipper about what we found, though. ¡°Iron bars, Explosive Compound A, spring steel, charcoal, cement, I can do a ton with this. An absolute ton. These seeds are probably useless, but I can probably turn that fertilizer into explosives if we find some-¡±

    ¡°Yeah, no, got it. Thanks. Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Oh, some useless things. ¡°Milinary Orders,¡± ¡°Cutthroat Clothier Receipts,¡± ¡°Noguchi, Perriand and van der Rohe Discount Flatpack Furnishings¡± that kind of thing.

    ¡°So¡­ hats, clothes and furniture for the Tower.¡±

    ¡°Yes Sir. Like I said- useless.¡±

    I nodded. On the one hand, she was right. None of those things were really useful in a fight. On the other hand, she was wrong. Quality of life, particularly my quality of life, would always be a valuable consideration.

    Not going to lie- I miss my foam. These little slipper shoes do nothing for my arches. Not a problem yet, but it certainly would be. Besides, one chair was just not enough. I needed a queen sized bed if I was going to rough it, a king for real comfort. Some reading lights would be nice. Maybe some tasteful art. Nothing obscene, just artistic.

    And if you don¡¯t know the difference, then you¡¯re a pervert.

    The mishmash of rooms made sense now- they were probably places from around the Floating Quarter that had been mushed together. The building didn¡¯t make sense, because outside of this dungeon, it didn¡¯t exist.

    Sensible. Just annoying. It screamed copypasta of the dumbest sort. How the hell was someone powerful enough to rip all these things out of time, but dumb enough to not grab a whole building?

    I knew I was intentionally irritating myself over nothing. I didn¡¯t want to feel¡­ what I was feeling. Never a can to kick when you need it. I tried kicking one of the wooden-block books lying around, and nearly broke my toe. Hopping and swearing made a good diversion for a few minutes, but eventually even that passed.

    That old man was Versai¡¯s real, honest to Goddess uncle. Smart, ruthless, and utterly loving towards his nieces. But smart! My god, was he smart! He figured out how to exploit a goddamn cutscene without even knowing what one of those were. He saw the opportunity to take me hostage, figured he could leverage it to try and force a conversation, figured out the rules of the scene in a fraction of a second¡­ smart.

    He figured out how to break the rules of this world. He had a lot more time than I had to figure it out, but¡­ a goddamn NPC mini-boss was rules lawyering. Hard to shove him back into the dolly box.

    Hell, he even shifted the knife around to make sure my summons had an opportunity to free me, without actually breaking the rules of the scene. What a brilliant, ruthless man. Who looked after Versai in place of her absent dad and her piece of crap mom. Who sang along with her while she practiced playing music, and skipped stones with her, and swapped stories and gossip.

    The walls were coming down hard. I knew I would have to put them up again. Disassociate. Don¡¯t lose myself in the illusion. But Sebastian¡­

    Sebastian loved Versai more than life itself. He saw the situation was irretrievably screwed, and rather than run and abandon the people his family was supposed to protect, he gave up everything in a final, futile struggle to save somebody. To give his daughters (in every way that mattered) a place to come home to.

    Someone who could live humbly for a cause, and who could die nobly for it. A real man.

    So what did that make me? End of the day, which of us was the NPC?

    I spent a long time trying not to think about that. Trying not to think about what this damn game did to its victims. What it did to Versai, and to Sebastian. And to Madame, and Pammy and the Mikas and just¡­ everyone.

    Just background. Just flavor text. Just the setting. It seems real because it¡¯s supposed to seem real. It¡¯s supposed to hurt. They aren¡¯t real people. They aren¡¯t real people!

    Of all the people tortured in this place, the Tower Masters were the only ones who died only once. We were, definitionally, the most expendable. The most worthless. Hard to argue with the devs there. So hard, I didn¡¯t even want to try.

    Wasn¡¯t that just the story of my life? Sounds hard. I don¡¯t want to try. What¡¯s the easy alternative?

    I wrapped my arms around my legs and squeezed, with my back against a wall. I just waited. Wishing I knew how not to think.

    Sometime later, Versai found me. ¡°I opened the safe. Traps. Six of them. Two pit, two fire, two tar. A thousand Rune Bones. And this.¡±

    She held out a knife handle first, towards me. I waved it away. ¡°You know I can¡¯t.¡±

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    ¡°Try it.¡±

    I reached out and grabbed the handle. It felt comfortable. The blade was about seven inches long, and as wide as two fingers at the base. Straight sides swept to a very sharp point in the last few inches, with a short but strong ridge in the middle of the two sided blade. The whole thing has a sort of flattened diamond shaped profile.

    It was a blade meant for stabbing. You could cut with it, but the designer clearly built around the point. You couldn¡¯t really use it for anything but violence. Even the grip was different from cooking knives- rather than guide your hand to a pinch grip, you were clearly meant to hold it like a hammer. I could practically hear the Psycho music. Ree Ree Ree Ree REEEEEEE.

    I tried to call up a stat sheet for it, and was pleasantly surprised. And annoyed.

    Tower Master¡¯s Arsenal: Commando Knife. Usable exclusively by the Tower Master. Built for discreet disposal of difficult problems, by men with an alarming love of their jobs. Undetectable while sheathed, and if the first strike is undetected, there is a certain chance it will be immediately fatal provided the target has blood. Location of the strike improves chances of a one-hit-kill.

    And that was it. No discussion of rarity, no stats, nothing. Even the description said less than it seemed. I mean, I¡¯m not a violent man, not a fighting expert, but I reckon that if you stabbed someone in the heart with a seven inch piece of steel, that would be one hundred percent fatal. You could punch up under the back of the skull, maybe? Sever the brain stem, shred the ¡®ole amygdala. Sounded fatal to this terminally online guy.

    A slit throat was generally a one-hit-kill without any magic support. Or so I have heard. Apparently Christopher Lee knew personally. I gave the dagger another look. I swear it looked familiar, but I couldn¡¯t think of a single anime with a dagger quite like this off the top of my head. Or manga for that matter.

    I slapped my forehead. Backstabbing! Not throat slitting, it was backstabbing. Lee did a whole demo on what it sounds like when someone is stabbed in the back, based on his experience stabbing people in the back. Stabbing professionally, not recreationally, though I guess that wouldn¡¯t be intuitively obvious. God, English actors are weird.

    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose it came with a manual?¡± I aimed for light. Don¡¯t think I hit it.

    ¡°No.¡±

    Definite miss. Awkward.

    ¡°Can you show me how to use it? I¡¯m not a fighter.¡±

    ¡°Guess I could. Don¡¯t really want to though.¡±

    Fair. ¡°Well. Wouldn¡¯t be right now. Honestly, I think a ranged weapon would make a lot more sense for a Tower Master, even in these relic sites.¡±

    That got a nod from her. ¡°Yep. In the rear with the gear.¡±

    We were quiet a moment longer. The knife felt uncannily comfortable to hold. I had misjudged it. You could hold it like a hammer in the classic ¡°Downward Stab¡± position, but you could also run your thumb along the top of the hilt and stab straight forward with it. Sort of like if you were fencing or something. I don¡¯t know what you call that grip.

    I casually stabbed the wall next to me. The blade sank in two inches with no effort on my part.

    ¡°Sweet Jeebus! You see that?¡±

    ¡°What, the knife sticking into the wall? Yeah?¡± Versai clearly didn¡¯t appreciate how strange that was.

    ¡°I put no muscle into that. None.¡±

    ¡°It''s Sebastian¡¯s old army knife. What did you expect?¡±

    The silence came back, brittle this time. I wasn¡¯t sure what to say. I pulled the knife out of the wall, wiped the blade carefully and put it back in its sheath.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to talk about it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it. On¡­ several levels.¡±

    I nodded at that. ¡°I don¡¯t know what the respectful thing to do here is, Versai, I really don¡¯t. We can¡¯t bury him. Can¡¯t burn him. He wasn¡¯t wrong- his death is not forever. Not here. You could think of him waiting for a rescue.¡±

    She smiled. Still utterly beautiful, but the smile was a thin, cold thing.

    ¡°¡®Rescue¡¯ was a¡­ well¡­ I don¡¯t want to talk about it. But let''s say we stopped talking about rescuing people a long, long time ago.¡±

    She blew out a long breath.

    ¡°But you don¡¯t know that, and are trying to be nice, so thank you for that.¡±

    I just nodded. ¡°I won¡¯t loot him.¡±

    ¡°No. You won¡¯t.¡± Her expression flattened. ¡°I did.¡±

    ¡°Versai-¡±

    ¡°That was¡­ the master of this place, the monster known as Sebastian. He should be treated as such. He would want that. But he does¡­ give me hope.¡±

    I nodded at that. Smiling a little. ¡°Anything good on him?¡±

    ¡°I really don¡¯t know. Here.¡±

    She handed me a ticket and a wide coin. The ticket was betting slip- Forty Thousand Guilders on Vinnie ¡®The Violator¡¯ Gustin in his middleweight fight against Samuel ¡®Skullcrusher¡¯ Pershing. Sebastian had gotten three to one odds too.

    ¡°Forty Thousand Guilders a lot of money?¡±

    ¡°Strictly speaking, it¡¯s worthless. But when that ticket was issued?¡± She shrugged the best shoulders ever made. ¡°It looks like he could afford it.¡±

    Hah. I see what you did there. Sebastian really did teach you well.

    ¡°Got it. And the coin?¡±

    It was a big hunk of silvery metal. Which I¡¯m going to assume is silver, because that seems like a common thing to make coins out of, historically. Though usually they aren¡¯t the size of an oreo, I think.

    ¡°That one I really don¡¯t know anything about. You have a bird I don¡¯t recognize on one side, and a mountain I don¡¯t recognize on the other, with words I don¡¯t recognize written around the edges. I¡¯d say it was a medal or some kind of commemorative token more than actual currency, but that¡¯s a complete guess on my part.¡±

    I looked it over carefully, but couldn¡¯t improve on what Versai had said. The bird looked more like a songbird than a raptor, with two long feathers trailing behind it. Pretty, I guess, but I¡¯m not a bird guy. The mountain was very¡­ mountainous. It was apparently tall? You could make out the treeline stopping midway up the slope.

    I sighed and stood. ¡°Back to the Tower, then. Time to figure out how we stop the fourth wave. Because I have a feeling about this. Something nasty is coming, and we have to be ready.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master.¡±

    ¡°Besides, it will give you a chance to vent. Violently.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master!¡±

 Chapter 29- Digging In and Rising Up

    Rache was waiting for us when we got back to the Tower.

    ¡°Watcha got for me, Rache?¡±

    ¡°Riding wild and free, boss!¡± She tossed me a map update. And¡­ that was that, apparently. The limits of One Stars were really starting to grate. I trudged up to the map room and hunted around trying to spot what was different.

    I couldn¡¯t spot what was different. ¡°VERSAI!¡± I yelled down the tower.

    ¡°YEAH?¡± Versai was poking around the battlefield, seeing what had been flattened by the monsters last night.

    ¡°IS THERE A WAY TO FLAG NEW ADDITIONS TO THE MAP?¡±

    ¡°YEAH.¡±

    ¡°HOW?¡±

    ¡°NO IDEA.¡±

    Well. Damn.

    ¡°Highlight new.¡± Nothing happened.

    ¡°Select new. Filter new. Display new only.¡± Nope, nada and zilch respectively. Fantastic.

    ¡°Display legend.¡± Nothing continued to happen. ¡°That would have been a perfect time to let a mirror pop up, you know. Start doing something to combat the whole ¡°Evil Necromancer¡± thing you devs have going on.¡±

    I started poking around the table. There were lots of decorations around the edges. Wouldn¡¯t be the weirdest if some of them did something. None sunk into the table when pressed, but, come on. What year is it? After only fourteen tries touching different little pictures and saying ¡°highlight all new,¡± it finally worked.

    I was touching a picture of a lamp. Which¡­ sure, I guess that could work, in a symbolic kind of way.

    A pencil thin column of light rose from the map, hovering over a tiny pond. It looked like there was an area around the Tower that was suddenly getting more light too. Could it be highlighting the searched areas? It would make sense.

    Tiny pond? Hmm. I touched the lamp picture again and said ¡°Highlight resources.¡±

    The whole map glowed. Right. Trees are a resource. ¡°Highlight all resources excluding trees?¡±

    Nothing was glowing. Alright. Not¡­ ideal, but fine. Rakim had been saying something about rammed earth walls and¡­ rubble walls or something. I had two level two workers and a level three worker. That¡¯s a lot of dirt they can move.

    Now¡­ what was the deal with the pond Rache discovered? I walked over to the window.

    ¡°HEY VERSAI!¡±

    ¡°WHAT?¡±

    ¡°RACHE FOUND A POND.¡±

    ¡°OKAY?¡±

    ¡°ARE THEY USEFUL?¡±

    She threw her hands up in the air ¡°WHO KNOWS?¡±

    Fantastic. Just¡­ fantastic. I could send an expedition there, but¡­ I had three orders left. Needed to make them count. I went to consult with Rakim. Building defenses was a big part of her skillset.

    ¡°Rakim! What do you think of our defenses so far?¡±

    ¡°Well. They seem to have worked.¡±

    I don¡¯t know why that hurt my soul, but it did.

    ¡°Well, now you are here, and you have seen what summons I have available. I just checked- no stone. Your building materials are dirt, wood and whatever we have in those resource packs. Just to make things more fun, I¡¯m expecting the monsters tonight to either be tougher versions of the standard monsters, or for new monster types to be introduced, or both.¡±

    I took a deep breath. ¡°So the big reason I didn¡¯t just throw up huge walls everywhere, other than just not enough workers, was that most of my damage dealers are ranged units. They need to see the things they are shooting at. The Mikas need to be kept in a single block to be most effective. Other than them, I have two artillery pieces and you. For up close damage, I have Versai.¡±

    ¡°Got it. Plus two medics, three workers, a support and a scout. Sounds about right?¡±

    ¡°The scout¡¯s main use will be spotting enemies and marking targets for artillery. She¡¯s also useful for cleaning up the wounded.¡±

    ¡°Alright, not impossible. Not¡­ ideal, but not impossible. So¡­ any particular reason you have left the front door wide open?¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t want to spend the resources on something that won¡¯t make a big difference, compared to just building more walls, more stakes and more abatties. Although that does remind me- JUDITHS!¡±

    ¡°Yes boss?¡± They came trotting over.

    ¡°Here- weapons upgrade kits. Use them well.¡±

    ¡°Thanks boss!¡± Their toolbelts glowed momentarily, and then absolutely nothing else changed. Fantastic. Thank you game devs.

    ¡°So. Door?¡± I asked.

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    ¡°Your call, but you know you can stand up in the tower and shout down orders, right? Speaking strictly for myself, but the further the Commander is from the front line, the happier I am.¡±

    I¡­ regrettably¡­ had not thought of that.

    I went to college, you know. I run my own company, sort of.

    Pressing swiftly on- ¡°Would the doors have to be their own order, or could they be included in another order?¡±

    Marci, the Judiths and Rakim spoke with one voice. ¡°Separate order!¡±

    Well there¡¯s a triple-time-for-overtime crew if I ever saw one.

    I thought it over. ¡°Rakim, let''s say they throw something at us who¡¯s whole function is to smash through the stakes and the branch-barricades- how do we stop ¡®em?¡±

    ¡°Solid walls, trenches with spikes lining them, shooting them a lot, traps, or ideally all of the above.¡±

    I slowly nodded. ¡°Hear me out- we have three orders left for the day. Order one would be building the doors and making them as strong as possible. Order two would be replacing the wooden barricades near the door with rammed earth propped up by the existing palisade. Order three would be repairing the existing fences and installing all the traps you can. Does that sound like a three order job?¡±

    They looked at each other, and wordlessly came to an agreement.

    ¡°Can do,¡± They chorused.

    ¡°Would there be extra room in those orders that I¡¯m not making use of?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    God damn it. ¡°Do it.¡±

    The workers got to work. The first happy surprise was the doors. I figured they were just going to be wood. I was wrong. Between the four of them, they managed to make rebar reinforced concrete doors. They were somehow able to cure, install hardware on, and mount these huge doors inside of ¡°one order.¡±

    I mean, there is magic, and then there is whatever the hell that is. I watched them do it, and I still don¡¯t know how they did it. They were moving those doors around like they were hollow Home Depot Brand interior door special offers. They even used a big chunk of iron as a door bar, to keep it shut from the inside.

    I tried to eyeball the ratios- how much was each ¡°attack¡± stat contributing, how much were the Judith¡¯s weapon buffs helping, how much more work was Three Star Marci contributing compared to the Two Star Judiths? How much more ¡°order space¡± did different materials take up?

    I mean, concrete. Just got to mix it up and pour it, right? But where the Hell did they get the water they mixed it with?! They sure didn¡¯t go over to the pond with barrels.

    Goddam. Gacha. Logic. Marci did a hell of a lot more than one Judith, but not more than two. They all worked very fast. The game said they could make concrete doors, so they did. And that was that.

    I found myself squeezing the hilt of my new knife. Very soothing thing, squeezing the hilt of my specialized stabbing knife. Just squeezing it. Giving it the ¡®ole squeezaroony.

    I remember Christopher Lee described someone getting stabbed in the back as making a sort of sudden exhale. A kind of ¡°Ah!¡± noise. Which makes sense, as air was just knocked out of them. As the steel blade was knocked into them. One of those fun history facts. Or a science fact. Medicine fact?

    The reinforced wall around the palisade was somehow even more mind melting. The workers just ripped up the dirt, shovels and mattocks moving the earth at a speed that would do a JCB proud. It looked like there was a standing explosion going on within forty feet of my newly fortified front door.

    The Judiths and Marci had tampers. Literal long sticks with blocks of metal on the end, for tamping down dirt. Because of course they did. The five foot long tools were pulled out of the same tool belts as everything else. I felt like my sanity was being tested again, but¡­ the results made the mental harm worth it.

    The end results were downright grotesque. Where there had once been a glorified fence, there was now a serious military fortification. The wall height had been raised to thirty feet, ten feet deep, given an almost perfectly smooth front surface, it completely boxed in the front door area, AND it had bumped out corner bastions for the artillery. Any future ranged DPS we got could set up ¡°enfilading fire¡± from those bastions too. Which was apparently army talk for ¡°shoot them from the side and the front at the same time.¡±

    I supported this. Especially since the workers had made one tiny improvement on my plan. All that dirt? Came from the foot of the wall, on the far side. Our wall now had a sizable dry moat. So my new walls might be thirty foot tall on this side of the moat, but on the far side? Hope the monsters are ready for a long, long climb.

    ¡°You said you were worried about wall-breakers, Sir? Well, anything trying to run at the wall will have to slow way down if they want to attack the wall. Gives us plenty of time to shoot down or across at them. Or just drop stuff on their head.¡± Rakim explained.

    ¡°We have things we can drop on their heads? Boulders? Boiling oil?¡± Three Cheers for Rakim! Three Cheers for the Army Corps of Engineers!

    ¡°No Sir. But theoretically we could.¡±

    Fly High, kids, join the Air Force. God this game inspires so much joy.

    ¡°Alright, so here¡¯s the firing step for the Mikas¡­ and you?¡±

    ¡°Yessir.¡±

    ¡°Great. Ladder to get up and down, no problem there, nice little sheltered area for Pammy, Maria and Kim, which is also good. How does Versai deploy? She will need to get in and out at speed?¡±

    ¡°Rope ladder, sir. Literally just a rope with knots in it. She¡¯s strong enough to get up or down in a couple of seconds.¡±

    I nodded slowly. That worked.

    What they had done with the existing defenses was actually a little scary. Not because it looked incredibly lethal or anything- it didn¡¯t. It twas subtle. I didn¡¯t spot it until Rakim explained it to me.

    ¡°We fixed up the existing barricades- those are actually pretty good. But on the basis that there may be more of those Alpha types or similar monsters that can just climb over or bull through the hedgehogs, we changed the contours a bit.¡±

    ¡°You dug more trenches.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t have time for real trenches, Sir. We did make a few height adjustments by shifting soil levels, but probably not more than a few decimeters in any given direction. The idea is that you subtly discourage monsters from even trying to climb over the hedgehogs. Everything looks that little bit harder to do. It encourages them to run into the traps.¡±

    And Rakim knew her traps. I was downright looking forward to the chaos that was going to erupt shortly. I looked across the field. Were we done? I had a nagging feeling I was missing something. Something more than the interior decoration of the tower, I was saving that for after the wave.

    RIGHT! The seeds! We had recovered seeds from the dungeon crawl. I rushed over to the bed that I had already dug. The first crop of seeds were just barely starting to poke up out of the soil. I couldn¡¯t wait to see what they grew into.

    I dug like mad, trying to get the bed made as quick as I could. I was unreasonably excited about the flowers. Not so much because they had a game effect, but because they were pointless. I could grow flowers. What was the definitional pacifist club in Anime? Above and beyond even the literature club, it was the gardening club. It was the special healing place in the violent world of Japanese highschools. And now I had my very own.

    I got my fingers right into the dirt, dragging furrows for the newly acquired seeds. I watched the water splash on the turned earth, as the watering can poured out its endless waters. It was a single, beautiful moment. I took the time to enjoy it. Then I went into the tower. Shut the heavy cement doors, dropped the bar in place, and found a window with a good view of things.

    ¡°Rakim- finish the final order. Then make ready! Tonight, we give them hell!¡±

 Chapter 30- The Fourth Wave Begins!

    The sun raced for the horizon. The fourth night was on us. They would throw a curveball at us, I was sure of it. But I had a sneaking suspicion that we hadn¡¯t reached the intended noob filter yet. Versai¡¯s experience with the Third Wave not withstanding.

    No, the real screwing over was still in the works. Tonight, they would introduce a new enemy type. I could smell the villainy in the air. They had already introduced the Monster Alpha. Now it would be time for a new base model.

    I looked over at my newest artillery summons, Pomoroi. Her uniform was much more old fashioned than Radz. Radz looked like some mashup of a Wehrmacht uniform and a diesel punk fetishist¡¯s ¡°party¡± dress. Pomori looked like she came from a thinly veiled rip off of cannon-era England. Like¡­ Redcoats era.

    I¡¯m saying she looked fancy as hell, and her cannon did too.

    Blue jacket with an ivory contrast lining for the wide lapels, red tights with a gold stripe down the right leg, white shirt with a high collar and thigh high riding boots. Shiny, shiny black boots.

    You could see your reflection in your boots. Not that I had a boot fetish! With the smell of the wax polish, and the feel of the leather under your fingers, or pressed against your cheek¡­

    NOT FOR ME, NOSIR!

    Her canon was pitch black and covered with gold plated ornamentation- crouching lions wearing crowns, mostly, though there was a cluster of decorative leaves around the rear of the cannon.

    Which was on a pedal mount like Radz mortar, because this game hates my sanity and wants to hurt me at every opportunity. How did the cannon get loaded? What is loading? What even is ammunition? Recoil? Why would a cannon worry about recoil?

    Apparently Pomoroi fired a solid round-shot. I was still not sure what her range was, but I had a bad feeling it was shorter than Radz.

    Just¡­ please. Goddess, please send your Doki-Doki angels to blind that evil God Pachinko and let Pomoroi fire at more than one round every forty five seconds. Please and thank you. May Saint Rei who sits at your right hand intercede for me and rain monster hunting blessings on me and my underlings. Amen.

    The first plume of smoke rose in the woods. Then another. Only two so far? That won¡¯t last. I yelled down. ¡°Artillery, focus fire on the closest marked target.¡±

    ¡°Radz Raining Death.¡±

    ¡°I regret the targets are out of range, Sire!¡±

    Rei, I really needed you to come through for me, and you let me down. Asuka wouldn¡¯t have let me down. You are just lucky I¡¯m not into Tsunderes. This is why Shinji passed on you. This Kuudere nonsense right here.

    ¡°Pomoroi, fire when they are in range. Radz, keep firing at whoever is closest!¡±

    You could mark the time by Radz¡¯s barks and the mortar¡¯s boom. Forty five seconds on the dot. What I wouldn¡¯t give to have found another ancient herb garden!

    There was something unreal about the steady thump. I couldn¡¯t see what she was shooting at. I just had to trust that each round fired meant fewer monsters hitting my lines. Boom! And somewhere, an actual biological organism who was not a possessed doll died.

    Boom. There goes another. Not that I felt bad for them. They were hideous, and wanted to do hideous things to me. Still. In this sick game, they were biologically closer to human than I was.

    Boom. Another down. Are they coming in a little faster tonight? I sure hope not.

    My hopes meant nothing. The first monsters reached the clearing in what felt like no time at all. The awful things reached the edge of the tree line and then seemed to freeze for a moment.

    That moment was fatal for four of them.

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree!¡± The BOOM hit like a punch. The force of the noise alone shook me, as the black iron canon belched fire. Fire, and a heavy iron ball! It made a flat arc, and smashed through the clumped up monsters. It looked like it rolled a ways after it landed too- if there was more close behind, I suspected a lot of monsters just got broken legs.

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    ¡°Radz, Raining Death.¡± The mortar was quieter, but still loud. The boom of the round detonating was damn loud, but now it was almost indecently satisfying.

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree!¡± BOOM!

    ¡°YES! YES! MERCIFUL GODDESS AND HER SWEET SAINT REI! THIRTY SECONDS! THIRTY BEAUTIFUL SECONDS! WOOO!¡±

    I danced, throwing my hands in the air and waving my derriere like I just do not care. She might have shorter range, but she could lay down fire in two thirds the time it took Radz, and while there was no AoE damage, her rounds kept rolling in a straight line after they hit. Some bonus damage right there.

    ¡°Oh. My. God. Are you seeing this? Are you seeing this¡­ thing. Right here?¡±

    ¡°Where is H.R.? I need to file a complaint. This is totally harassment and completely, like, unacceptable.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m like, not a complainer or whatever? But this is super traumatizing, and what if it, like, triggered someone? That''s so not okay.¡±

    Right. I had stuck the Blue Roses in the Throne Room and done my best to forget about them. But they were here. Judging me. Fantastic. Goodby authentic joy. Hello flashbacks and intrusive thoughts. Your things are right where you left them. Honestly, it¡¯s like you were never gone at all.

    I forced myself to ignore them, and focused on the battle below. It hadn¡¯t just been the first wave of monsters- they were all stuttering to a halt for a second as soon as they cleared the treeline. It only lasted for a bare second, but even after they started moving again, they were slower. More tentative.

    My lips slowly peeled back from my teeth. You might mistake it for a smile. Our ape ancestors knew better.

    It was the trophy. The Alpha¡¯s head nailed up over the door. The debuff was working.

    ¡°Radz, target the monsters that haven¡¯t reached the treeline yet. Pomoroi, focus on clumps at the tree line. If a couple get past, let them! Don¡¯t target groups of less than four.¡±

    I took a deep breath. This was the more¡­ dicey order. ¡°Rakim, don¡¯t trigger any traps until ordered!¡±

    ¡°Yes sir!¡±

    Rache was still marking monsters moving through the woods. No shortage of targets tonight. We just couldn¡¯t afford to spend single use traps on anything less than big clumps of monsters. Better to pick them off with my DPS.

    They were out there, somewhere. The new monsters. They were coming. We¡¯d be ready.

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree!¡± The canon thundered out, and the cannonball went flying through a clump of monsters. They were coming in a pretty steady stream, so ready-made clumps were easy enough to come by. I narrowed my eyes, trying to follow the trail of destruction.

    The trees in the woods were huge. Not redwood-huge but a lot bigger than anything I ever saw IRL. And the cannonballs were starting to knock them over. It was because the monsters were mostly coming from the same two places. Some trees were just unlucky enough to be in the way.

    Which meant that, right now, the number one danger to my giant clearing full of hedgehogs, was my own damn artillery. I smashed my fist into the empty window frame.

    One of the improvements that Rakim had suggested was shifting the locations of the gaps in the V shaped barricades. They were now staggered, so the monsters couldn¡¯t charge in a straight line. They would have to go back and forth, or get hung up on the hedgehogs as they tried to climb over.

    10/10 landscaping decision, really should have thought of that before. 0/10 for making firing lanes for my Napoleonic artillery. I was going to have to pick my shots very carefully as they started getting closer.

    A few were starting to filter through now. The adjustments to the barricades were surprisingly effective. Not just the change in gap placement, but the subtle height adjustment. When stacked with the debuff from the skull, it really did make the monsters want to find the easiest route. It wouldn¡¯t take much for a single trap to nail dozens of them.

    Rakim started picking them off between the second and third lines of the barricade. It took her a couple of shots to put each down, but her range and rate of fire was a lot higher than the Mikas. Wasn¡¯t sniping them, but it was a massive help.

    I lightly tapped my fist on the cool stone. This was working. Which meant that it was about time for¡­ yep. There we go. A third stream of smoke went up in the woods. Then another, closer. And another. Rache was clearly prioritizing whatever was coming in that column.

    ¡°Radz! Focus your fire on the new column!¡±

    It took less than two minutes for big clumps of monsters to start hitting the tree line. Radz must have been doing more than I gave her credit for. Pomoroi was nicely demonstrating on their flesh where the saying ¡°Cannon Fodder¡± came from.

    Her gun was eating good tonight. Real good.

    ¡°Pomoroi, By Imperial Decree!¡± The cannonball smashed forwards, clearing a clump out and rolling deeper into the treeline. Something jumped through the gap it left behind.

    Just a touch bigger than the other monsters, but its head was wrapped in a bone-white carapace. Its torso was likewise covered in bones and spikes. Even its limbs had grown thick patches of bone.

    It stood on its hind legs and roared, beating its armored chest.

    Armored. Monsters. My DPS already needed a couple of rounds on target to kill the monsters, and I hadn¡¯t seen any armor penetration stats. Oh, this was spicy. Very spicy.

    It dropped back down onto all fours and started charging forward. It slammed into a lone stake¡­ and barely slowed down. The arm-thick spike just shattered on its chest armor.

    I was hammering on the window frame a lot harder now. Monsters were piling up at the clearing¡¯s edge now, and starting to come forward in big clumps. Pomoroi couldn¡¯t keep up. More of the armored monsters were coming on the field too. Still affected by the debuff, still getting closer with every second.

    ¡°Rakim, Stand by to activate the Tar Pits! The real battle starts now!¡±

 Chapter 31- The Fourth Waveâ€™s Armored Monsters

    Thanks to Rakim¡¯s alarming efforts, the trap situation had progressed from ¡°reasonably effective¡± to ¡°bad for you on a spiritual level, never mind physical.¡±

    ¡°Wait till a clump of the armored monsters hits the trap, then pop it! Pomoroi, hold fire until ordered!¡±

    The lead monster was coming fast for the first gap in the stakes. It hurt to let him through, but I needed to make those traps count.

    The description of the Tar Pit trap was bare bones- ¡°Stops all movement of any limb that touches the trap for a short time, then the trap slows any creatures that touch it for a longer period, depending on the trap placement skills of the deploying Awakened Soul¡±

    Do I have to mention there are no stats visible for ¡°Trap Placement?¡±

    Besides, tall, dark and nasty wasn¡¯t alone for long.

    The armored monsters boiled out of the forest, scrambling over fallen trees and bullying aside their unarmored cousins. The bony plates and long spikes didn¡¯t seem to do the ¡°ordinary¡± monsters any favors. Long rips appeared in monstrous flesh, spilling blood before they had even reached our front line.

    It was horrible, and it made me smile. The ¡°ordinary¡± monsters had a head start on the faster moving armored variant. They were going to hit the tar pit at the same time.

    ¡°Rakim, launch the trap¡­ NOW!¡±

    There was a green-black flash between the barricades, a half second before the monsters hit it. It was a glorious catastrophe.

    The first monster¡¯s paw/hand hit the field- and stuck. The second paw came down short of where it expected, resulting in the beast doing a front flip and landing on its back with a horrific crack. Trapped belly up, the other monsters started scrambling over and, quickly, through it. Then they got stuck. Their flailing limbs ripping at each other, ripping at the monsters trying to climb over them.

    ¡°Pomoroi, shoot the ones stuck on the trap!¡±

    ¡°Pomoroi, By Imperial Decree!¡±

    The cannon thundered across the battlefield. The iron ball crushed through the dense mass of monsters, before dropping and rolling along the ground, shredding yet more bodies in the process.

    It was a cruel irony- the mangled flesh cleared away gaps for more monsters to get a paw down- and get stuck.

    Thirty seconds later- ¡°Pomoroi, By Imperial Decree!¡±

    The ball ripped through the flailing heap once more. God, what I wouldn¡¯t give for some grape shot. Well. Solid shot was doing well enough. Should I redirect Radz? No, she was better off working at long range. Thinning them out before they reached our lines.

    More and more monsters piled in, breaking limbs when they stuck, clawing at each other, goring each other.

    ¡°Pomoroi, By Imperial Decree!¡±

    Just as the ball hit them, I saw some of the monsters starting to pull loose of the tar pit. Ninety seconds, near enough. The Tar Pit kept them stuck for ninety seconds.

    The monster tangle took a bit to get untangled. In part because they were moving very slowly between the debuff from the Alpha Skull trophy and the trap¡¯s secondary effect. The other part was the other monsters.

    Later, I would take great pleasure in remembering them shredding each other. Now, I was just wishing like hell they would do it more. Best of all, sort of, was that more monsters kept piling on to the back of the clump, making it even harder for them to get sorted.

    Screw it. ¡°Radz, focus fire on that clump at the trap for the next two rounds, then return to firing on the targets in the woods!¡±

    ¡°Targets marked. Radz raining death.¡±

    God, she sounded so happy when she was saying that. Something sickly eager in the flat monotone.

    The round shot and the air-burst mortar hit at almost the same moment. It was glorious. A blood-pi?ata filled with gorey candies. I gave the heap a hard look.

    From what I could see, the round shot could smash through the armor, but the air burst seemed to just¡­ shake them up. It probably tore up the unarmored bits. Definitely some limbs missing due to weakly protected joints. Still. Not ideal.

    And the monsters were getting through the trap now. Another dilemma- Radz could drop shells in from almost straight above her target, but Pomroi had a much flatter curve to the projectile when she fired. In other words, she couldn¡¯t really hit them between the barricades without smashing the barricades. She would need to wait until they were in a gap.

    I didn¡¯t want these armored freaks running through my lines without taking some damage. There were still smoke streamers rising from the woods. Plenty more monsters incoming. Fortunately, Rakim had been busy. We had a little something cooked up for them.

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    ¡°Rakim, get ready on Fire Trap Number One!¡±

    The monsters went charging through the gap between barricade numbers one and two. They had to run halfway across the clearing to get to the next ¡°gap¡± thanks to the repositioning work of Rakim and the workers.

    The caltrops that filled the gap were, however, all Rakim. You know where those monsters don''t have armor? The undersides of those freaky paw-hands.

    Slow ¡®em down, shoot ¡®em up. If we can¡¯t increase the damage per second, increase damage over time and SLOW. THEM. DOWN! They were moving real, real slow now.

    Pomoroy was continuing to hammer them at the first Tar Pit. There was a bit of a standing pile up there, so I didn¡¯t redirect her. It was a balancing act. Where to put my limited DPS for maximum damage. The monsters were almost¡­

    ¡°Rakim! Activate Fire Trap One!¡±

    The trap went up in a sheet of flames just as the lead monsters were all the way inside the trap. The mobility damage had spread out the clumps, but they were still moving like an extra thick milkshake through a straw.

    We must have caught an easy dozen of them in the initial burst of flame. More as they kept shoving each other forwards, into the fire. I kept a close eye on the armored monsters.

    It was hard to spot in the chaos but¡­ yes. The fire was getting to them. I could see them burning as they tried to scramble clear of the fire. No need to redirect Pomoroi. Time to let DOT do its thing.

    The big clumps were now broken up into a thin, slow moving stream. A stream that really didn¡¯t seem to appreciate the caltrops Rakim had generously scattered between the second and third hedgehog wall. The monsters were clearing the caltrops with their body, but I was prepared to accept the trade.

    Saved me using all the rest of the traps for the moment.

    The first of the monsters made their way past the third barricade and into Mika¡¯s range. Unsurprisingly it was an armored monster, though a lot of its bony plates were now cracked or broken.

    The Mikas opened fire. And the bolts pinged off the bony carapace. My blood went cold. Then Rakim¡¯s rifle started ripping out shots, and they were pinging off too.

    My metaphorical blood didn¡¯t run cold any more- it had frozen solid. I kept my eyes riveted on the monster. More and more shots were landing. It looked like- yes, they were chipping away at the armor! A big piece of the backplate fell off, and very quickly afterward, was filled with bolts.

    One down. Dozens more to go.

    ¡°Mikas! Focus your fire on one monster at a time. Try to aim at the same spot!¡±

    Not how I wanted to do this. Not at all. But needs must. ¡°Rakim, fire at your extreme range. Aim for any damaged or broken looking bits of bone armor. ONLY TARGET THE ARMORED MONSTERS!¡±

    I took a deep breath. ¡°Kim, buff Versai, then keep buffs going on everyone shooting from the wall. Don¡¯t worry about debuffs for now. Versai, once you get your buff, deploy to the moat. If anything falls in the moat, rush over and kill it. If a bunch of them do, hit and run. Don¡¯t get tangled up with them!¡±

    My eyes galloped all over the clearing, trying to keep track of everything- where Rache was marking targets, where Radz was shooting, where Pomroi was shooting, the kind of damage the monsters were picking up, rough percentages of armored versus non-armored.

    I forced myself to breathe. ¡°Breathe.¡± Whatever I was doing, it calmed me down enough to focus.

    Right now, we were only getting a trickle of monsters reaching Mika-Range. That number was going to increase as they used up the caltrops. Right now, the Mikas were able to capitalize on the damage the monsters had accumulated and burned them down pretty quickly. Versai was having a very boring time in the moat.

    But I could see the number of healthy-ish monsters increasing in the channel. The fire trap had reduced to a low, hot ember bed. The monsters were moving like congealed molasses, but they were moving, and in a big enough clump to be a real threat.

    My head whipped back and forth. Do I pop another trap now, or wait? There is still smoke rising from the forest. How many of these slow, wounded things can Versai kill by herself? Should be a lot, but I can¡¯t afford to test her limits the hard way.

    I steeled my guts and waited. This should be within the limits of what Versai, Rakim and the Mikas can manage. If nothing else, I had a huge new wall, a moat and armored doors. That had to count for something.

    They can handle this. They can. I repeated it over and over. They can handle this. If they get hurt, Maria and Pammy are right there to heal them. Kim is buffing them. They can do this.

    The monsters seemed to laugh at my optimism. Moving a little faster, now that they were not taking damage from the caltrops. Every time the Mikas¡¯ bolts went ¡°ping¡± off a monster¡¯s armor, I flinched. I tried not to count how many rounds Rakim was firing into the shuffling horde.

    Come ON lady, you are a Four Star! Start dropping bodies!

    You know. More than your traps are already.

    I tried to breathe again. Returns were limited.

    The first monster reached the moat. Unarmored, so it hadn¡¯t gotten the long range DPS¡¯ attention. Versai was on it.

    It was like watching a particularly sadistic food processor in action. Versai hacked that thing apart with no chance of retaliation, or even defense, on the monster¡¯s part. It was just too slow. That being said, I immediately realized I had messed up.

    ¡°Versai! Up and out of the moat! Hit ¡®em before they fall in if you can. Only get in the moat if they start climbing the wall or something!¡±

    Mobility! She was so much faster and more mobile than they were. Wasn¡¯t I being a fool by trapping her in a moat with the crippled monsters? I was practically feeding her to them!

    She jumped out and got stuck in on the next monster up. This one was armored, and she took what I was now learning was a classic Versai approach to the problem- she didn¡¯t try to kill it. She attacked the joints, popping off the legs and wings like she was Martha Stewart running behind on dinner party prep.

    Once it wasn¡¯t moving any more, she either put her blade in its eye, or left it for the Mikas. The wisdom of a Six Star. She got the problem, and as far as the game would allow, worked the solution.

    I heard a crash from the far end of the clearing. A half dozen trees got pushed down, smashing a new gap in the forest. Armored monsters, tens of them. I tried to count, but everything was too chaotic, too frantic. Forty? Too many. Far, far too many.

    ¡°Radz, Pomoroi! Hit that clump coming out of the woods. Rakim! Get ready to fire the rest of the traps. This is it! This is what we were waiting for!¡±

 Chapter 32- The Fourth Wave Ainâ€™t Nearly Ugly Enough

    They hit my defenses like a wrecking ball. The subtle slope deflection around the hedgehog walls worked a bit. Which means that it worked on some of them. The others just smashed into them, and kept right on smashing. More armored monsters piled up behind the first. Slowly, they opened gaps in the line. I caught a few of them in the fire traps, but it was a bare few.

    ¡°Radz, Pomoroi! Focus fire on the largest clumps of monsters!¡±

    No more time to be precious about preserving the hedgehog barriers. Couldn¡¯t let them be handcuffs. Not when this many monstrous hands were coming to rip off our faces.

    Versai and the Mikas were chewing apart the few monsters that were making it past the hedgehogs, though more and more of them were reaching the moat-area. Versai was no longer trying to kill the monsters, unless there was a particularly good opportunity. She was focusing entirely on crippling them. The strategy was working, but it was a worrying sign nonetheless.

    The artillery was raining Hell on the armored monsters. It was not as effective as it had been- they were too spread out now for big smashes. It was adding up, though. Every thirty seconds, every forty-five seconds, another huge blast would sound, and monsters would die. Or be badly injured. Either way.

    Radz airburst shells were definitely not as effective on the armored monsters, but they did have an effect. I could see the armor plates cracking and deforming. Pomoroi smashed right through them, of course. But Radz¡­ well¡­ I wished I could see stat sheets for the monsters. Was she shaking their organs at all? Doing damage to their brains?

    No time for those sorts of questions, it seemed- more of the ordinary monsters were filtering in behind the wrecking crew. I hunted for Rache¡¯s smoke markers. None. Still none. I counted the seconds when I should have been counting my heartbeats.

    ¡°Pomoroi, By Imperial Decree!¡± Thirty seconds and no new markers.

    ¡°THAT''S EVERYONE. THIS IS THE LAST OF THEM! PUSH, PUSH, PUSH!¡± I yelled. Right now, I would take even the hope that yelling would help.

    Forty armored monsters broke through the forest and hit our lines. Thirty five were still on their feet by the time they hit the second barricade, and I wasn¡¯t even counting noses on the ordinary monsters coming in behind them.

    I still had one more trick left. Still had one final trick. But I had to make it count!

    I coughed theatrically. No idea if this would work on non-alpha monsters, but¡­

    ¡°HEY MONSTERS NEENER NEENER NEENER!¡±

    Did it work? Hard to say. Must incorporate more hand gestures.

    ¡°MONSTERS ARE DUMB. MONSTERS ARE UGLY. ONLY THE TOWER PEOPLE ARE GOOD!¡± Not going to lie, I was drawing a blank on insults. Mostly my mind was on other things.

    Confession Number Two? I don¡¯t really remember how to dance the Macarena. I went to exactly two Bar Mitzvahs when I was fourteen, and we all danced it then. And that was it. Was I still bitter over the fact that I was told to my face I only got invited because they invited the entire homeroom class?

    Yes. Yes I am.

    I did my best with the dance anyway. Nothing quite grated on the ears like the Macarena anyhow, and the dance seemed extra humiliating. I hope the monsters appreciated how badly my shimmying hips shamed them.

    ¡°Oh god. Oh. GOD. He is dancing again. He is dancing¡­ that¡¯s not even dancing.¡±

    ¡°I feel sick. I think I might puke. Do you have a bucket? Like, a designer bucket, not a whatever bucket.¡±

    ¡°I mean, like, I get that shame is totally a negative emotion and bad vibes or whatever? But maybe some people need to feel that.¡±

    ¡°Right, right. Like, it¡¯s fair. You make other people feel bad because you exist, and you should be ashamed of that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m okay if the bucket is, like, a knock-off or something? Like, it doesn¡¯t have to be designer designer.¡±

    Ah yes, the tactical killjoys that are the Blue Roses. Fingers crossed that one day, this tower would have a sub-basement I could banish them to. Or myself to. Oh god, the trauma.

    I powered through the searing shame, yelling random crap and waving at the monsters. I think it eventually started working. It looked like they were starting to narrow their attack and clump up again. Maybe it was just because they were closing in on the Tower.

    I narrowed my eyes. The barricades were still some help. There was a balance- once the armored monsters spread out a certain distance, they couldn¡¯t break holes in the hedgehog fences anymore. Just not enough weight in the shove. Their armor let them cross over with limited damage, but they still slowed them down.

    I glanced down at Versai. She was playing it smart, working the edges. Not letting herself get surrounded. Some of the monsters were reaching the wall now, but Rakim was picking them off before they could climb out of the moat. Not good. Not good at all. But I couldn¡¯t pop the Mikas¡¯ ult- it was too soon.

    Stolen story; please report.

    I had to wait. I had to wait. And while I waited, I did my best to draw the monsters to me. Get them moving in a straight line, right to me. Screaming out that fear. Thrashing my body around, trying to shake the terror clean out of my limbs.

    There were too many of them. Just too many of them! And we weren¡¯t hitting them fast enough, hard enough. Could the monsters smell fear? For once in my life, I hoped I stank.

    ¡°Come and get me, uggos! I¡¯m right here!¡±

    ¡°Him calling someone else uggo is just¡­¡±

    ¡°I know, right? Like, where exactly does that confidence come from? Because it¡¯s not attractive.¡±

    ¡°Oh, be nice. Maybe he can finally make friends on his level. You know. People who look like that tend to hang out together.¡±

    ¡°Can you be that ugly and still have friends? Like, I don¡¯t know, biologically or whatever?¡±

    You know, while Versai is distracted, it should be possible to just yeet these witches clean off my Tower. I mean, they are dancer-strong, but I do have this Ken body. Let¡¯s see how far Barbie flies.

    Just as I was about to ask the girls to spell ¡°defenestrate,¡± the monsters threw me a bone. It looked like enough monster bodies were coating the fire trap in the gap of the last hedgehog fence that the big blob of armored monsters were willing to run through it rather than try to climb over the barricades. They literally cushioned their feet on the corpses of their comrades.

    ¡°Radz, hold your fire. Pomoroi, hit that clump right there, and keep your fire focused on it! Sweep that gap!¡±

    ¡°Pomoroi, By Imperial Decree!¡±

    Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on!

    They formed up in a horrible, blocky mass. They had taken some losses, taken some damage, slowed by the remaining caltrops and Tar Pit Traps but were still mostly intact. They clumped, just before the biggest mass hit the now covered Fire Trap.

    ¡°Rakim, hit Pit Trap #1!¡±¡±

    The ground opened up under the monsters. Long iron skewers were waiting for them ten feet down.

    I listened for a second- there was an awful lot of roaring and screaming still coming from the pit. And those long, primate hands would be excellent for climbing. Can¡¯t have that.

    ¡°Radz, Fire directly into that pit!¡±

    ¡°Radz raining death!¡±

    Pomoroi¡¯s cannon¡¯s firing arc was too flat- she couldn¡¯t drop her rounds into a pit that close. But since the pit trap was just the right side of Radz minimum range, it was absolutely no problem for her mortar. And while the air burst might not have been super effective in the open air, how about in a little, crowded, metal-spike filled box?

    There was a terrible explosion. The blast was a bit muffled, but this close it was still shockingly loud.

    The pit was a lot quieter after the first blast. Not silent though. Pomoroi sent a round scything through a pair of monsters who had momentarily stalled at the edge of the pit.

    Exactly forty five seconds after the first blast, Radz dropped a second round into the pit. And then it was silent.

    I slowly pounded my fist into my hand, keeping my eyes moving over the field. We hadn¡¯t won yet. There were still¡­ probably thirty monsters alive. But they were scattered. Even the armored monsters that avoided the first pit were in singles, or clumped in small groups with ordinary monsters.

    We hadn¡¯t won yet. But we¡¯d broken the back of it. Now, we just had to watch out for a second curve ball like the damn Alpha. Much too soon to relax.

    ¡°Radz, Pomoroi, continue sweeping monsters from the field. Hit them wherever you see clumps, don¡¯t worry about the barricades anymore.¡± Assuming they were in the first place, being One Stars and all¡­ ¡°Rakim, keep focusing on hitting those armored monsters and sweeping the wall. Mikas, focus fire, burn down the armored monsters first.¡±

    Deep breath.

    ¡°Versai- keep doing what you are doing. Disable, unless you can one-shot them with minimal risk. Keep moving. Don¡¯t let them slow you down!¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master!¡± The cries came back.

    I watched the Mikas slam their bolts into a limping, armored freak. They seemed to have gotten the hang of it. Their range, and particularly their accuracy over a longer range, was nothing too spectacular. On the other hand, watching five bolts suddenly sprout out of a monster¡¯s face, shattering the bone armor enough so that at least one bolt got through- that was plenty spectacular.

    I kept my eyes moving, trying to see everything. Rache had come in from the woods and was working her way through our now badly torn up lines. Saber rising up and whipping down as she zipped past, collecting heads and splitting open backs.

    It was¡­ kind of eerie, watching her work. She loved to move. That was her whole thing. She loved to ride, loved to feel her tassels fly and the wind rushing against her face. I thought the saber was¡­ well¡­ she was a summons. Of course she had a weapon.

    But watching her racing through the crippled and wounded monsters, making sure they couldn¡¯t ever rise again¡­ there was more to it than that. She was enjoying this. Whatever shreds of personality they left Rache, they belonged to someone who had done this a lot. Who got off on being untouchable but deadly.

    I nodded slightly to myself. Radz was so traumatized, she internalized destruction. Mika was desperate but resolved. Pammy was sincere, but overwhelmed by everything she had endured. And Rache? Rache thought it was all tremendous fun.

    Slowly, battle by battle, I was starting to peel back the stamped on personalities and find the people underneath. Still no idea where they all came from. Did they all come from the same world? Didn¡¯t look like it. We were standing on a battlefield with cannons, mortars, rifles, crossbows and a sword and shield soldier.

    More to the point, could even the story-within-the-story be fake too? Something the Devs left in there for inquisitive players to discover? It was possible, but I kind of doubted it. That level of subtlety seemed pretty beyond them. They were powerful, yes. Subtle, no.

    Oh, I was being dumb. If they were reaching into another universe from outside, presumably they could reach into that universe at any point in its timeline. Time and space being one thing and all. So if you were coming in from outside, it would be all the same to you. Left or right? 3rd century BCE, or year 3259 of the Machine Age?

    All the same to the necromancers, and their hot developer cousin. Oh, you thought I forgot that, Black Hood, but I didn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t AT ALL.

    Wave 4 Complete!

    Didn¡¯t have to pop Mika¡¯s Ult. Good planning, got lucky with the traps, had enough firepower. We made it through.

    ¡°Hey, Versai! Come on up here! Time to watch the dawn rise on the Fifth Day.¡±

 Chapter 33- A New Day Dawns

    Versai and I stood shoulder to shoulder. I had the Judiths clean up the battlefield, looting the bodies. Repairing everything would take an order or three. Might be best to rebuild from scratch. Well, most of the stuff was still usable. Just have to figure out the right way to use it.

    The night sky here was¡­ beautiful, actually. The sky was speckled with endless stars. Deep in a way I had never seen before. A bright, round moon hung proudly in the sky, shining down on the nightmares below.

    Nights here were beautiful. But the game taught you to fear that beauty. To struggle to avoid it. Somehow, I felt like a protagonist from a CLAMP manga, staring upwards with an otherworldly beauty who couldn¡¯t be less interested in me, by my side.

    ¡°Ready?¡± I asked. She nodded.

    ¡°Advance day.¡±

    We stood on the east side of the tower, backs leaning against the still-sealed door. Waiting for something neither of us had ever seen before.

    The sun was a bright copper penny sliding its way up the sky-box. It turned the horizon every shade of blue before it peaked up over the treetops, and bathed us in the pale gold of early morning. The air even smelled like the morning- that hint of cool in the air, and the promise of it warming up. I was imagining it, but¡­

    Rosalia might be a horrible necromancer and a worse game designer, but credit where it was due. She could make a spectacular sunrise.

    Something we had never seen before- not me, not Versai. The morning of the Fifth Day.

    However long we spent in that timeless place, it was worth it. I was, at least amongst Versai¡¯s Tower Masters, the undisputed all time survival champion. Four waves, and all my summons were still alive. All of them.

    ¡°I kept everyone alive. All of ¡®em. Dollies or not. I kept them alive. Some of it was luck. Finding those traps was huge. Decisive. But it wasn¡¯t all luck.¡±

    I think I was talking to myself as much as Versai. Sometimes, you just need to hear yourself say it. You gotta keep saying what your head knows until your heart believes it.

    ¡°You did. You went after the ruin site hard. Most don¡¯t. Just build out resources until ¡®we are properly secure.¡¯¡±

    I snorted. ¡°No chance. We never have enough people to really defend our walls. We needed an edge, and we weren¡¯t going to build it ourselves.¡±

    Versai wiggled her platonically ideal hand. ¡°Yes and no. Others built their own traps. With varying, usually low, degrees of success. They also had different Awakened Souls.¡±

    ¡°Fair.¡±

    ¡°One guy? Had four snipers.¡± She shook the finest head that ever graced a neck. ¡°One-shotted everything they aimed at. They shot about as often as Radz. The fastest shot like Pomoroi.¡±

    ¡°Oof.¡±

    ¡°Yep. Long range as anything. He tried more or less what you did- lots of barriers, slow them down as much as possible. ¡®Versai, you will be my guerilla fighter. Go out there and slow them down long enough for the snipers to clear the field.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Second wave?¡±

    ¡°Mmmhmmm.¡±

    The fifth day settled into place. I hadn¡¯t issued the first order, so when the sun was clear of the horizon but not yet high, it stuck there. There was a gentle wind that made the forest rustle. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine you were by the shore, listening to the waves run up on the beach.

    Soon enough we would go into the Tower, examine the loot, get ready to fight the next wave. But for now, we just treasured the moment. We looked at the sky, and couldn¡¯t help but smile.

    The sun hung in the sky, burning like the brightest copper penny ever. Fingers crossed it would be a lucky one.

    ¡°Um.¡± I said, intelligently. Suavely. Dare I say? Rizzly. ¡°What?¡±

    Ladies, please control yourselves. I am strictly for the 2-D. Guys¡­ look, I know what my browser history suggests, but it¡¯s a very, very niche interest and 2-D is still mandatory. Don¡¯t try to make this weird.

    What was weird was that my Tower had a new room open¡­ which was actually two rooms, and maybe as many as four? Or more? It got real vague real fast, my eyes blurring and a headache coming on at speed.

    ¡°The Commerce Department? Surely that name can¡¯t be permanent.¡±

    ¡°Can the Tower Master change the names of rooms? I had no idea.¡± Versai looked in wonder at the new door.

    ¡°If we can, I haven¡¯t figured out how yet. And I¡¯m not optimistic.¡± We had poked our heads through the door that exited onto the stairs only to find ourselves in a room with more doors.

    Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°¡®Armorer¡¯ sounds promising, let''s start there.¡± I pointed to the door on the far left.

    The room was blatantly too long to fit inside the tower. It looked like a factory. Not a modern one, but one with long benches where a piece would go from hand to hand and be assembled by the time it reached the end.

    Right now, it was empty except for a metallic golem sitting behind a counter at the front of the room. The golem sort of approximated the shape of a person, but it also sort of looked like a tree stump that got hit with lightning then covered in aluminum, so¡­

    ¡°Welcome to the Armory. We can currently craft Trash Tier arms and armor. Please deposit the crafting material in the hopper to see what arms and armor can presently be manufactured.¡±

    The golem had the most girly, squeaky, twee voice I ever heard this side of Flora from Asterisk War. ¡°Grating¡± didn¡¯t do it justice. This was a violation of the Geneva Convention.

    ¡°Trash tier? Can the room be upgraded?¡±

    ¡°YES!¡± ohgodithurtspleasemakeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop.

    ¡°How?¡± I immediately jammed my fingers into my ears.

    ¡°Pass Wave Ten and pay the required amount of runestones and Frozen Diamonds.¡±

    I had exactly two of the latter, and passing Wave Four was a not so minor miracle. Not going to worry about it for now.

    ¡°Would you like to make some weapons and armor for free? The first batch is free, today only! Except it¡¯s free!¡±

    ¡°Are you saying I can make it for free?¡±

    The silver coated tree stump rocked back, hydra-fingered hand pressed to its¡­ gonna go with ¡®chest¡¯. ¡°How did you know? It¡¯s for today only!¡±

    ¡°Special Tower Master powers, as well as the need for furious vengeance against a certain Rosalia. Where¡¯s the hopper for crafting materials?¡±

    ¡°Just here, Tower Master.¡± She pointed to a distinctly industrial looking plastic tub on wheels. Not a farming guy, but I am going to guess that thing could hold an entire cow. Apparently, the Armory expected to be working in bulk.

    Problem. In order to put the materials we harvested from all those monsters into the hopper, I would have to take my fingers out of my ears. On the other hand, this had to do with life and death- had to risk it.

    After four waves, we had accumulated what felt like quite a lot of monster parts. I knew how gacha worked- it felt like a lot, but really, it was nothing. Not a drop in the bucket. Load ¡®em up early on, make them feel like tycoons, then they will be extra motivated to spend when they suddenly run short.

    ¡°Oky-doky!¡± DAMN! It caught me. I jabbed my fingers back into my ears, but the mental damage was done.

    ¡°You have enough for the following armor kits and weapons kits.¡± A screen popped up in front of me. It was¡­ interesting. All trash tier gear, broken out by class, then subdivided by type, then subdivided again by style.

    You could have an armor kit for workers that gave them better boots, and those boots could be knee high PNW logger style boots, or they could be distinct-for-copyright-purposes Timberland knockoffs. The bit that was interesting for me was that they specified the country of origin. Kingdom of Verperania, Federated Republic of Bechim, Empire of Gaspee, others.

    Now¡­ were those places and people that we would encounter through the game? I was betting yes.

    What did I really need to spend resources on, right now? I could finish leveling up Versai¡¯s weapon. That seemed like a useful thing. Might not evolve, you usually need some special something and the next higher tier loot for that. But it would be useful.

    Then¡­ Mikas¡¯ DPS. Had to go up.

    ¡°Do any of these kits improve rate of fire? That is, make artillery or direct damage shoot faster?¡± I clarified. The store critters tend to be kind of dim.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    Case in point. Gonna take that as a ¡®no,¡¯ but I would read through everything carefully.

    I did read through everything carefully. It seems that the number of stars was irrelevant- Trash Tier gear cost the same regardless. The price for different classes¡¯ gear varied. Boots for workers were actually more expensive than boots for artillery.

    The reverse was true, to an eye-watering level, for weapons. Worker¡¯s weapons were cheap as hell. Artillery? Strictly speaking you don¡¯t need both kidneys, right?

    Well. Four battles worth of loot. I could get more or less something for everyone. Almost everyone. My quartet of eye candy/Tower ballast already had unique costumes. So I was totally justified in not giving them anything, and definitely not holding a grudge.

    I tried to match the maker to the summons, but wherever Rakim was from, they didn¡¯t manufacture trash tier goods. She was getting a weapon upgrade kit. No idea what it would look like.

    Eventually, the orders got sorted out. Everything was a low-single-digit buff to armor or damage, which was¡­ fine¡­ but frustrating. The real benefits showed in the tens or hundreds of points between a One Star and a Three Star. The gulf between a One Star and a Six Star was from Earth to the Moon. No amount of trash gear was going to make up for that.

    So. It was fine. But frustrating.

    I put in the order. The hopper raced off to the first of the long stone top tables. From the benches around the tables, more of the metallic golems extruded themselves. They hauled bits and pieces from the hopper, and quickly set to work. They had their own chattering barks-

    ¡°One-Two, One-Two!¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s get the job done!¡±

    ¡°Quickly, quickly, quickly!¡±

    Over and over again, accompanied by the sounds of angle grinders and other heavy industrial equipment. It must have been the angle grinder of the soul, because nothing of that sort was at all visible.

    I collected the equipment, packed neatly into little cards, to hand out later.

    ¡°Want to flee and check out the next room?¡± I asked Versai.

    ¡°What?¡± The most perfect index fingers in the world had, naturally, perfectly sealed the most searingly, achingly, spiritually inspiring ear canals to exist in any world. I violently shook my head and pointed towards the door.

    She beat me out of the room. Versai was as eager as I was to see what else the Tower had in store for us.

 Chapter 34- Mad as aâ€¦

    Fleeing the squeaky voiced metallic tree stump, we ran into the next room on the right.

    ¡°The Steel Egret?¡± I read the sign over the door.

    ¡°There¡¯s another sign here- Hattie¡¯s Hat Shop. Oh, and Made to Order.¡± Versai pointed.

    ¡°Let¡¯s start with The Steel Egret.¡±

    We walked into what I can only describe as a hat-universe. A tiny sealed dimension that consisted only of women¡¯s hats and means to display said hats.

    Shelf after inescapable shelf of little fascinators or sombrero sized hats decorated like a mountain surrounded by forests. There were hats made to look like the Tower. Many hats had a military theme. There were feathers beyond counting, buckles and buttons and straps and gold piping and drop down goggles galore.

    It was dizzying. I could feel my already shaky grasp on conventional sanity starting to slip as I tried to parse just what I was seeing.

    ¡°Ah, the Tower Master, at last.¡± No squeaks this time. A rather sober female voice, polite but no nonsense. I almost sobbed in relief. At last, an anchor in the sea of brimmed madness!

    ¡°Yes, I am he. I¡¯m sorry, where are you?¡± I looked around, seeing only hats, displays for hats, and a statue of the store¡¯s namesake.

    ¡°Directly in front of you.¡±

    I blinked. The statue of the Steel Egret blinked back. My sanity decided to go out like a man, not one finger at a time but violently flinging itself away from the cliff face.

    ¡°You know what? Sure. Why not? You are the owner of this shop?¡±

    The bird just blinked at me. Right. Right. The store interfaces were at One-Star-ish levels of intelligence. Such fun. Such, such fun.

    ¡°What do you sell here?¡± He said, because really, who could even guess?

    ¡°Hats. We sell hats for women. However, all our hats are custom pieces. Not just anyone can wear one of our creations. In fact, they fit only one person. We therefore cannot provide you with a hat without a Millinary Order.¡±

    I nodded at this. Who the order was from never got a mention on the orders. Nor to whom. Just that there was an order, and a person was getting a hat.

    ¡°Understood. So I can¡¯t buy things with Rune Bones?¡±

    ¡°Certainly not! Though we do have some very special, limited availability, seasonal items that may be purchased with Frozen Diamonds.¡± I don¡¯t think I had ever seen an offended bird before. And now I have. Who says video games aren¡¯t educational?

    Just going to skate right past the whole ¡°Frozen Diamond¡± thing. The Premium currency screw job was likely inescapable. It could be earned in-game. This was far from the worst I had ever seen.

    I took a quick shuffle through my millinery orders. None for any characters I had summoned. Shame.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose I can buy Millinary Orders here?¡±

    ¡°Orders, Tower Master, come from the top.¡± And that was apparently all there was to say about that. I shrugged at Versai, who shrugged back. We made our way through the bewildering mushroom-forest of displayed hats, and back to the intersection.

    ¡°Hattie¡¯s Hat Shop?¡± Versai asked.

    ¡°Sounds good.¡±

    We went through the door and into¡­ I don¡¯t know what. A fitting room? Measuring room? There was a little platform hemmed in on three sides by mirrors. The walls were covered in dark green velvet curtains, so dark they were almost black. Thick oriental rugs covered the floor, muffling the sounds of our steps.

    There was a single plushly upholstered leather armchair near the platform. It was subtly rounded, though its low back gave it a more modern appearance. The whole space smelled of wood polish and worn leather, lit by a single brilliant spotlight on the central platform.

    Versai and I looked around in confusion.

    ¡°Are we¡­ supposed to stand on the platform or something? Maybe ring a bell for help?¡±

    She shrugged. ¡°No idea. I don¡¯t see a bell though, Tower Master.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose I could get you to call me Liam?¡±

    ¡°No chance. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be. Not your fault.¡±

    ¡°Oh I was just being polite.¡± She flicked her superlative fingers at me.

    There was a long beat.

    ¡°I guess I will go stand on that thing, then.¡± I said, desperate to break the awkwardness that clearly only I was feeling.

    I stepped over to it. And¡­ nothing happened.

    ¡°Well that¡¯s anti-clima¡­.¡± A smooth, slender white hand traced its fingers along my head. Another appeared, and they grasped my head between them. I could see them in the mirror. Arms, slender and pale, came over my shoulders, emerging from the darkness. I tried to turn my head, but those soft fingers turned to iron bands.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°No, no. Now you are in Hattie¡¯s world, Tower Master. Ah! But you come bearing gifts, so Hattie appreciates you. Yes, aaaahhhh. Yes. Hattie appreciates you.¡±

    The voice was low, soft, female.

    ¡°Do you know, Tower Master, what the most seductive part of the skull is? It is the zygomatic arch.¡± Her fingers started tracing across my face, over to the side of my head. ¡°A thin span of bone, linking the zygomatic bone, crossing over the greater wing of the sphenoid, before plunging into, unifying with, the temporal bone.¡±

    Her long, cool fingers traced along the side of my head, ending just above my ear.

    ¡°An ossified orgy of utility and aesthetics. All ending here, just above the external acoustic meatus. That¡­ lesser penetration, juxtaposed with the great receptive orifice here-¡± She tapped my jaw. ¡°The mandible. Hanging from that sensuous arch, providing a savage, primitive frame for the sloppy meat hole.¡±

    One hand ran through the hair on the back of my head, slowly closing and making a fist. Holding my hair hard, but not painfully. The other traced a cool index finger from my jawline along my throat.

    I whimpered.

    ¡°The frontal bone is so crudely jutting forward. But we need that crudeness, don¡¯t we? To bring out the spice and subtlety of the details. It must be present, but restrained. Are you capable of restraint, Tower Master?¡±

    I shivered, trying to speak but incapable of making words.

    ¡°Come to me when you are ready to have a hat made. For the crude, ordinary things, I will take those silly runed bones. But for my best work, the things that will make you a better man, I need diamonds. Frozen Diamonds, and if you are very lucky, special materials. Then, Tower Master, I can make you something. Very. Special.¡±

    She breathed the last few words into my ear, somehow never appearing in the mirror.

    The hand holding my hair nodded my head.

    ¡°Good. And for my very, very special customers, I might even let you see me. If you earn it. But I am quite... demanding. Goodbye now, Tower Master. Your purse is a little too light to buy even my most common goods. Come back when you have more under your belt. But do remember- I am very demanding. And worth it.¡±

    The door shut, and somehow we were on the other side of it. ¡°Hattie¡¯s Hat Shop- Closed. Unless You Can Show Me Something Worth Opening For.¡±

    It seemed the Tower Master could change the signs after all. I needed a minute. And an adult.

    ¡°Your hat! Your hat changed, but I never saw her touch it.¡± Versai gasped.

    I blinked and pulled my Robin Hood hat off my head. It was from Hattie¡¯s Hat Shop originally- a newbie gift. Green, pointed, with a long red feather. The hat looked the same, but the feather had been replaced with something sleeker, and more interesting.

    ¡°Is that a¡­ pheasant feather? Or patrage or something?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. We always hunted deer or boar. Looks good though.¡± Versai shrugged. I was about to put it back on, when I checked to see if the description of it had changed.

    Provides a +.005% bonus to draw higher rarity Awakened Souls, and to complete sets.

    I blinked and looked back over at Hattie¡¯s. On the one hand, you couldn¡¯t get me back in there with a pointy stick. On the other, long, cool, sensious hand¡­

    No. 2-D all the way! Never give up, never surrender! The stat bonuses would have to be much, MUCH higher than this to lure me back to that dark, mysterious, seductive, place¡­

    ¡°Let''s go to the next room shall we?¡± I said,

    ¡°Yes¡­ yes. Lets.¡± Versai wasn¡¯t meeting my eyes for some reason.

    The second to last room was labeled Made To Measure. Costumes for the summons. I actually had some orders I could cash in here, though again, I don¡¯t think any of them were for Awakened Souls I had summoned yet.

    This room was refreshingly recognizable. It was a women¡¯s clothing store. Lots of mannequins. Lots of pictures on the walls, and an aggressively Kawaii clerk in a pink confection of frills, ruffles, lace, and ribbons. Technically she was wearing a dress. Practically, she was wearing the shop¡¯s entire catalog.

    ¡°Hey! Welcome to Made To Order! We are so excited to have you here!¡± Her voice was cheerful, upbeat, and in no way threatening. She was instantly my favorite.

    ¡°And what is your name?¡± I asked. She just blinked at me. Right. Hattie was a late addition per the note on the notice board. Much more work was put into developing her, apparently.

    I am going to do unspeakable things to Rosalia¡¯s soul. The whole dev team, in fact, but I¡¯ll start with her and work my way down.

    I had a look through my Made To Order receipts, and, to my quiet surprise, found one for a character I actually had. A recent addition. Had a fancy brass border to it.

    ¡°I have a receipt here for Pomoroi?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes! The Steelheart uniform! I will bring it at once.¡±

    A little status screen popped up. There was a picture of Pomoroi, wearing a uniform similar to what she had now, but with a lot more gold braid on the epaulets and a fist sized medal pinned to her chest. It was shaped like the head of a lion, connected by a silver chain to a button on her jacket.

    She looked sharp. If you were into that aesthetic, she was downright killing it. Hard to appreciate the fit, though, because of the expression on her face.

    The look in her eyes was hard enough to shatter stone like glass.

    There was some flavor text beneath the picture-

    Captain Elizbet Pomoroi earned the title Steelheart for her unflinching defense of the village of Germain St. ¡®e -Ventqui, fighting to the very last moment rather than retreating.

    Orders came from the Emperor that the Fifth Army was to fall back in good order, taking care to preserve as much of their strength as possible.

    Captain Pomoroi concluded that her cannons would be impossible to evacuate in a timely manner, and any attempt to do so would hinder the Army¡¯s retreat to a fatal degree. Indeed, even if they abandoned the cannons, the Army simply could not outrun the monsters.

    Captain Pomoroi determined that her battery could dig in and stop the advancing monsters long enough to let the main body of the Army escape intact. So she did exactly that.

    ¡°My orders are clear and my duty is clearer. It has been my eternal honor to carry the Emperors¡¯ commission. Death holds no terrors compared to disgracing his trust. Therefore, this Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree, shall hold this ground until my last breath. I shall stitch the firing lanyard of my canon to my hand, so that even in death, I may kill my Emperor¡¯s enemies.¡±

    It is said that when the Emperor heard the report, he wept, and ordered her name and likeness enshrined in the same imperial orphanage she was raised in. Honored with the name Steelheart, and her epitaph written by his own hand.

    All Empire of Gaspee Artillery +30 Damage, +20 Defense -50 movement rate when deployed with Steelheart Pomoroi.

    I collapsed against a wall. Sinking down until I was on the floor. An orphan. God only knows what it took to get a captain¡¯s commission in a feudal army like hers. God only knows how hard she fought to keep it. Frozen out by the officers above her and the enlisted below. Isolated. Frustrated. Disrespected by everyone except the only person she ever gave a damn about.

    Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree.

 Chapter 35- Weight of Fire

    I gave Pomoroi her new costume. No cutscene triggered. I guess that a ¡°mere¡± One Star like her didn¡¯t rate one. I couldn¡¯t tell if she was happy or not. She looked pleased when she got it, but¡­

    I gave my cheeks two quick slaps and got my head back in the game. It was fun seeing the new rooms, but what was vital was collecting the rewards. The Fifth Wave was coming, and it wasn¡¯t going to be anything nice to play with.

    Up to the Throne Room. Collect my wave rewards. Decorate the tower with some of the furniture I collected in the last trip to the dungeon. Order an expedition to the pond, lead an expedition back to the dungeon, figure out how to improve our defenses in light of the armored variant, and THEN, just to cap off the day, fight a wave that I expected to have at least a mini-boss.

    The days were just so packed.

    Well. Good that I have options?

    There was a very sparkly chest waiting for me. Delicious, delicious lootcakes, just for me. Got a cool five hundred Rune Bones. Would that be enough for Hattie? I had a feeling that it would not. Maybe if I added a zero at the end of that. Or two.

    A Milinary order, this time usable! A nurse cap for Maria. Oh boy. And it provided no stat bonuses. Well I would jump RIGHT on that one.

    Resource packs, good ones too. More concrete, iron bars, even some stone. Nice. Very nice. I could see that being very useful. Still rated as Trash Tier though. I was starting to get pretty curious about the benefits of higher tier materials. Better resistances, at least. Or so I assumed.

    Oh, there were seventy resonance crystals! Nice! I checked my supply of crystals, and I didn¡¯t quite have enough. However, given that I had just unlocked a new floor¡¯s worth of shops-

    Yep. A quick check of the missions list revealed a bunch of missions to visit all the new shops, get the free equipment, make the free equipment, get the upgrade from Hattie, and even to fulfill an order at Made to Order. Thank you tutorial missions!

    I pocketed the fresh supply of resonance crystals and started to turn to the stairs before my brain caught up with my feet. I still had a perfect wave clear reward waiting!

    The little golden token flew out and embedded itself into the wall, next to the other three. It was nice seeing them there, glittering at me. I want to fill an entire wall with them. I wonder how broken my stats would be by then. Very, hopefully.

    Direct Damage and Snipers- Knockback Damage increased as though the weight of projectiles had increased by 3%.

    I had to blink at that one. Then again. I scratched my head a bit, then looked again.

    One advantage of being a terminally online weeb is that you can look up a lot of stuff quickly. There are people on the internet who are wrong, and it is my duty to correct them. Unpaid duty, admittedly, but it was a labor of love.

    One of the things I learned is that people do not, in fact, go flying back when you shoot them. They don¡¯t even fall down until they notice they have been shot.

    Or die, but, you know, I¡¯m talking about basic principles here.

    People, when shot, do not go flying backwards, even if you shoot them with a .50 cal. This is because humans weigh a whole lot more than bullets. Heck, even that .50 cal. weighs in at less than an ounce and a half.

    A ton of energy in the bullet, sure, but it¡¯s focused on a very, very small area. The force of that impact is moving forward in basically a very narrow cone through the body. Again, not enough to knock you over. The force is just not distributed right.

    I weigh in, both in my old life and here, at a lot more than an ounce and a half. A three percent change in felt impact, even for something as heavy as a crossbow bolt, would amount to nothing. Maybe it would slow down the armored monsters very slightly?

    Would it¡­ do more damage to the armor, without explicitly piercing it? No idea.

    Actually, now that I think about it some more, ¡°as though the weight¡± made this completely worthless. The weight either changed or it didn¡¯t, which would change the energy or not. K=1/2M^2V. I wasn¡¯t completely asleep in physics! But the buff doesn¡¯t change the mass, only ¡°as though¡± it had. Just what in the Sam Hill is going on here?!

    Please, oh great god Gatcha, let me draw more artillery and front line. Lots and lots of both would be ideal. Anything to spare myself figuring out how these mentally diseased designers worked.

    Down to the pool I went. Chucked in the stones. Sighed at the half hearted WoooOOOaahaiiiiiIIIII music. Then-

    ¡°Never fear, Mika is here!¡±

    Huh. I¡¯m genuinely not sure how to feel about that. Did my new hat buff work or not?

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Later, when I caught up with Versai, she just shrugged. ¡°I told you she is a super common summons. I hesitate to use the word ¡°generic¡± but if I was going to pick one One Star to represent the whole tier, it would probably be her.¡±

    ¡°Six, though. My summons are now basically Mika and supporters.¡±

    ¡°First of all, no, your summons consist of me, and assorted supporting units.¡± Versai arched a perfect, and perfectly arched, eyebrow at me. ¡°Second, that¡¯s a good thing from what I can tell. You said you don¡¯t have enough damage dealers to hold the wall. Well, getting six Rakims isn¡¯t even a dream, so six Mikas is actually pretty damn good.¡±

    ¡°Especially buffed by Kim.¡± I nodded. ¡°Alright, let''s table that weirdness and talk pond. You have never investigated a pond?¡±

    ¡°Nope. If a previous tower master ever found one, they must have ignored it. Which I understand. ¡°Pond¡± doesn¡¯t exactly scream a decisive advantage.¡±

    ¡°Fair but I think also misguided. All these field items seem to be to help us, one way or another. Have you ever been attacked on an expedition?¡±

    ¡°In a ruin site, of course. But¡­ I don¡¯t think outside of one. Keep in mind that I haven¡¯t actually been on a ton of expeditions, comparatively.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°I can imagine running into monsters as we start exploring further and further out, but this site is still pretty close to the tower. My thought is that we send a very cut-down expedition- basically Rache, the Judiths and Marci. That reduces the operation time to one order.¡±

    Versai sucked her teeth. ¡°Your decision.¡±

    I nodded. Yeah. My decision.

    I made the order. Then we waited. To kill some time, I went and started plonking down furniture. To my immense irritation, the ¡°furniture¡± consisted of a painting of a field, a green rug of no particular virtues and the world¡¯s most generic side table. On the plus side, my throne room now had furniture. On the minus side, it didn¡¯t have a throne.

    Not to be picky, but I have always considered a throne mandatory in a throne room. Others may disagree. I have accepted that there are many wrong people in the world, and I can be broadminded about that. But I have only one chair, it¡¯s not a throne, and it¡¯s not in the throne room. This whole thing is a sham. A SHAM I SAY!

    Christ, I hope they are okay.

    I sat on the basically-okay-if-I¡¯m-being-honest carpet and tried to just¡­ breathe. Which I don¡¯t really need to do, I think. Just one of those things the devs let my body remember doing. Mimicking that core human experience.

    Three non-combatants and Rache, who might as well be a non-combatant when it gets to a stand-up fight. It made complete logical sense from an efficiency perspective. Complete sense. But¡­ Hell.

    I went outside again, and walked directly away from the Tower. One, two, three¡­ ten paces actually carries you a decent little distance. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen. When I tried to take the fifteenth pace, I slammed into an invisible wall. No progress past this point.

    The game seemed to define a pace as being not one step but two- Right foot, left foot, right foot- one pace. Fourteen of them got me about half way to the closest barricade. I drew a line in the dirt with my toe. There. I had measured the boundaries of my world.

    I really, really hoped everyone was fine. They¡­ had gone where I couldn¡¯t see them. Couldn¡¯t give the orders that might save their lives. I had been tempted to send Versai, but that would have made it a two order expedition and I desperately needed those orders!

    Now. Did I need those orders more than I needed Rache, the two Judiths and Marci?

    No. Almost certainly not.

    And yet.

    I went around and around. Time didn¡¯t exist here. They would be gone for an arbitrary period, that period being defined as ¡°one order.¡± They still hadn¡¯t come back. Damn! Damn, damn, damn!

    The next segment of the dungeon was Crusher Jim¡¯s fighting pit. Sounded melee heavy. I had one real melee fighter. Such, SUCH joy. Alright, Versai, Rakim, Kim, Pammy and Mika Alpha. Best I could do. Hating myself, I launched the expedition.

    We were back in Gradden March. It feels different now. More familiar, but with that familiarity came understanding. This wasn¡¯t just a pocket of burning buildings. It was a big, fancy ¡°saloon¡± that doubled as a music venue. A casino that was an intelligence front and smuggling operation. Many of the buildings that were too collapsed to enter were bars, or nightclubs, or little apartment buildings.

    There were restaurants here too. I could make out the painted signs with roasted chicken or beef. Bunches of wheat. A woven garland of garlic roasted when the window it hung in finally collapsed into the flames.

    These were people''s homes. This is where they worked and played. You could get a late night kebab, or the local equivalent, watch a show, watch a fight, and generally have a great time. The Floating Quarter of Gradden March. Apparently a den of utter depravity by local standards, but to my jaded New York eyes?

    It was nice. Even in post-Giuliani New York, it was nothing too scandalous or shocking. I mean, the streets need serious cleaning, I don''t trust the hygiene one inch and I¡¯m pretty sure the whole place was still eighty percent scams by volume, fire not withstanding. So¡­ better than Wall Street, though not a utopia.

    I pointed. ¡°That should be Crusher Jim¡¯s fighting pit.¡±

    Versai nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±

    ¡°You think maybe after this wave?¡±

    ¡°I really don¡¯t know. I really don¡¯t. I want to, and I don¡¯t. I can¡¯t explain it.¡±

    ¡°Well. Let¡¯s go do what we can with what we got.¡±

    Kim opened the path and we burst into Crusher Jim¡¯s place. Which, unlike the other places we visited, was packed.

    Neatly lined up were cues of burnt corpses. They shuffled through, dropping the ruined remains of coats at a coat check, and pantomiming buying drinks at the bar.

    There was a cough by my elbow. A charcoal shaped like a man stepped out of the shadows.

    ¡°Welcome, everyone, to The Bloody Pit. There is a two drink or one bet minimum, the coat check is five guilders flat, per coat, and management reminds you that while you may keep your weapons, violence must be confined to the Pit.¡±

    It took a moment to appreciate our stunned faces, then continued. ¡°Regrettably, however, due to forces beyond our control, there is no leaving our humble venue. I hope you are prepared. Sooner or later you will be joining our other guests-¡± It waved at the shuffling crowd.

    ¡°Not to worry. We love new faces around here.¡±

 Chapter 36- Fight Night

    The Bloody Pit was accurately named, on several levels. On the one hand, it was the dive-iest of dive bars. On the other hand, there was a big pit in the ground who¡¯s smooth round walls were stained black with caked layers of blood.

    Truth in advertising, in this day and age? Gradden Marche really was a nice place to live. Before the monsters came, anyway.

    There was a long, brass topped bar running along one wall. There weren¡¯t any stools or chairs. Not even tables to set your drinks on. Almost no furniture at all, actually, except for a wide, round table with a banquette curved around three quarters of it, jammed in one corner.

    There were some doors off the main room, but we could explore in a minute. At the moment, I was much more interested in the ¡°people.¡±

    The vast majority of bodies in the room were those charcoal people. Still human shaped, but so badly burnt that they no longer really registered as ¡°human.¡± More like rough outlines done with the flat of a pencil.

    They milled around the empty pit, or queued up at the bar. Some mimed drinking from imaginary glasses. Others pretended to chat with their friends, making noises that almost sounded like words. They wore bits and pieces of costumes- ragged bits of shirts or dresses, a single shoe, or a rope of blackened pearls.

    Around the sole table in the room were four beefy men. Clearly brothers, they wore casual trousers and no shirts. Each had their own tattoos- A wolf, a lion, an eagle and an orca. I was sensing a theme. To my quiet alarm, they spotted us, and waved us over.

    ¡°Oy! Grab a drink and join us. First round¡¯s on the house!¡± Yelled the lion.

    ¡°Thank you!¡± I replied. Not daring to disagree. I don¡¯t have a lot of traumatic memories about jocks, mainly because I was so far below their notice, they couldn¡¯t be bothered to bully me. It¡¯s an instinct- the weeaboo cowering before the predator, far from the safety of the internet. It comes with your first figurine.

    And yet, weirdly, these jerks all wore Goku tee-shirts. Truly there is no justice in the world.

    The bar was a source of fear in its own right. Not that I had never drunk before, or been to a bar- it¡¯s just, it only happened rarely, usually at conventions, never in dive bars. I don¡¯t know the protocol. What¡­ do I say? How do I even get the bartender¡¯s attention? I don¡¯t exactly have cash to wave.

    I needn''t have worried. The largest woman I have seen outside of a Walmart parking lot was glaring across the bar at me. And unlike the Rascal-riding Roseanne''s of New Rochelle, this one looked like she could bench-press a hippo. While running a 10-K. As a warm up for her belt defense later that afternoon.

    She was only missing the green skin and tusks to be my Orc-Amazonian Waifu. But we can¡¯t have everything, can we?

    ¡°What are you having?¡± Her voice was low, with a hint of rasp to it.

    I mean, that¡¯s just not fair. I am but a man!

    I pulled myself together.

    ¡°What do you have?¡± My voice didn¡¯t squeak at all. It did not. At all.

    ¡°Beer. Also, Beer.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll have the beer. And so will my friends.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have any friends here.¡± She shoved leather mugs under the taps, filling them with something brown and bitter smelling. Ale? It didn¡¯t look like any beer I had ever seen. No foam. No head on it to speak of.

    I¡­ really don¡¯t know much about beer. Not a beer drinker. Just¡­ not going to think about the ¡°You don¡¯t have any friends here¡± thing. Blowing straight past it.

    ¡°Can you tell me anything about the guys in the corner?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Will you?¡±

    ¡°Nah.¡±

    She slammed the drinks down in front of me. A bold move with leather mugs. The beer splashed everywhere, including over her hands. She could not have cared less.

    ¡°Well¡­ who do you like in the fight tonight?¡±

    That got her grinning. I could see her ripping strips of flesh off her opponents with a smile like that.

    ¡°Pershing is going to smear Vinnie across the pit. He does every. Single. Night. They never remember. But I do. Every punch. Every kick. Skullcrusher has six stone on me, and I could still take him apart now. Vinnie, though. Vinnie gets-¡± She laughed, a wet, unpleasant sound. ¡°Violated. Every. Single. Night.¡±

    ¡°Just outclassed as a fighter? Can¡¯t keep up? Not enough muscles?¡± I guessed randomly. I wasn¡¯t a fan of Baki- just didn¡¯t like the art, and it had zero waifus. But I couldn¡¯t think of another show where they did underground fights. Those usually came down to imagination and just grotesque amounts of muscle.

    ¡°Outclassed? Vinnie¡¯s got a glass jaw, and Skullcrusher knows it. First exchange of the fight, Sam lands a left hook right on the button. Drops him like the sad sack he is. After that, it¡¯s all over except the beatings. Vinnie tries to fight back a couple of times, but it¡¯s no use.¡±  She laughed again, this time a little more loudly. ¡°Grounded, mounted and pounded. Just how I like my men.¡±

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    And with that, I¡¯m out.

    ¡°Thanks for the preview. And the beer.¡±

    I took the drinks over to the table, where the brothers looked us over. I felt like a turtle at a zoo.

    ¡°So. What are ya, then?¡± The Orca brother grunted at me. ¡°Not a fighter. Not anything from what I can see.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m in private security.¡±

    That was met by slow blinks from the whole table. Versai included.

    ¡°What? It¡¯s my tower, monsters are trying to break in and kill me, I¡¯m defending it, and I fund my current lets-call-it lifestyle by harvesting the kills. Private security.¡±

    ¡°Tower Master, then.¡± The eagle brother snorted at me. ¡°What, you think we don¡¯t know what they are? Look around the room- ¡®e was one. And ¡®im. And ¡®im. Maybe about five people in here were actually regulars, not counting us, Daphnae, the fighters and Dad.¡±

    I squirmed awkwardly. That brief attempt at suaveness had used up all my available bravado. In fact, I was now dangerously overdrawn.

    I think the wolf brother knew it too. He was staring. Not being obvious about it, but he was looking at me, and carefully looking through my summons. I got the feeling he didn¡¯t miss much.

    ¡°But what are ya?¡± The orca brother was back at it. ¡°Some of ¡®em, ya can tell what they are. They got that meanness to them. Or they got a physique. Or something. Ya all get that body you didn¡¯t work for, but some of ya, ya got a bit of build. That swagger that says ya been punched and punched back harder.¡±

    ¡°Not ¡®im.¡± The eagle brother snorted.

    ¡°Nah, not ¡®im.¡±  The lion brother shook his head and took a long pull of his beer. ¡°Funny thing is, don¡¯t think he¡¯s a mage or archer or nothing neither.¡±

    ¡°Nah, ¡®ee ain''t one of ¡®em. Don¡¯t have that ¡®unger in ¡®im. That meanness. You just look like a scared little boy to me, boy.¡± The orca pressed in. ¡°Is that what you are, a scared little boy, come wanding in where he shouldn¡¯t be?¡±

    ¡°Tower Master. Towering Embarrassment, more like.¡± The eagle sniggered, and they all laughed with him. Except for the wolf brother. His eyes were still moving, though now he was mostly staring at Versai.

    ¡°Think you¡¯ll try and fight your way out of here, then, boy? Get on down in the pit? I¡¯m sure one of us will take real, good care of you. Don¡¯t bother trying to send in one of your pets. They can¡¯t keep up.¡± The lion brother laughed. ¡°No swords or armor down there! Just fists, and guts!¡±

    ¡°Lots and lots of both. Lots and lots and lots.¡± The eagle brother leered in at me.

    ¡°I know you.¡± The wolf brother¡¯s voice was quiet, but it shut the table up. He shook his finger at Versai. ¡°You are keeping real quiet, but I know you.¡±

    ¡°We have never met, Sirrah.¡± Versai¡¯s voice was clipped. I didn¡¯t know what ¡°sirrah¡± ment, but you could see the eyes narrowing around the table. Except for the wolf brother who just nodded slowly.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t say we had. But I know you. Versai ferch-Gradden.¡±

    The table got very still at that. I could feel the bartender staring from across the room too.

    Versai slowly nodded.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Recon you don¡¯t know who we are, though.¡±

    ¡°The sons of Crusher Jim. I never knew your names.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m amazed you knew Dad¡¯s!¡± This from the eagle brother.

    The wolf brother shook his head slightly. ¡°No. You only know that because you came here, and you came here for something. We¡¯ve seen loads and loads of Tower Masters in here, all looking for loot, or weapons, or fighters. Half of ¡®em try to sleep with Daphnae, which is always good for a laugh. All of ¡®em try to recruit her, which is less funny.¡±

    That had the rest of the brothers nodding and growling, rapping their knuckles on the table.

    ¡°So. Tower Master. And so, Versai ferch-Gradden. What. Do. You. Want. Here?¡±

    There was a pause. I was almost paralyzed. Versai had gone stoic and silent. She couldn¡¯t answer. I understood in a flash- she physically could not answer for me. If there was going to be the faintest hope in Hell of getting out of here, I had to be the one to step up.

    I was sat at the table with the bullies. And I had to find a spine. And I had no time to look for one.

    ¡°We want two things- one of them here, one not.¡± I said, slowly. ¡°And yes, weapons, loot, whatever we could find, that too. But we didn¡¯t know what the inside of this place looked like when we came in, so-¡± I shrugged, forcing myself to be casual. Trying, somehow, not to look like a boy.

    ¡°So you thought you would loot the burning wreckage, eh? Nasty little vulture, is that what you are?¡± The Lion sneered at me.

    I kept my eyes fixed on the wolf brother. ¡°The thing we wanted here is information.¡±

    That seemed to throw them for a moment.

    ¡°Got to tell ya, none of us are touts. And even if we were, who¡¯re we going to grass up?¡± The Eagle brother gave me a weird look.

    ¡°What, you don¡¯t like bragging about all the sex you¡¯re having?¡± I shot back. Desperately hoping that the thing poking into my guts was some bit of vertebrae.

    ¡°You want to know who I¡¯m bending over?!¡± The eagle brother sputtered.

    ¡°I heard from a reliable source that you were getting into it with a chambermaid from the palace. I get it. Who doesn¡¯t like a girl in uniform?¡± Oh I was gasping there.

    I could feel the lights dimming around me. The pressure of them. They were Six Stars, all of them. Physically brutal, and the rules of this place favored them. There were no weapons allowed here, No chance of really fighting back.

    The wolf brother slowly started chuckling. Then roaring with laughter. ¡°You want to know what happened! The little princess came home and found her doll house burned to the ground, and now she wants to know why? I¡¯ll tell you why! Because your mom¡¯s an imbecile, your dad¡¯s insane, your sisters¡¯ only use is bed-meat, and you, YOU RAN AWAY! And now, now you come to the Bloody Pit for answers?¡±

    He sneered, looking just like his siblings for a moment. ¡°Sure. Ask away. But only the first round¡¯s on the house. If you want answers, you can buy them. With prize money. Fighting in the pit.¡±

 Chapter 37- Alternative Dispute Resolution

    I told my Awakened souls to hang out and watch the fights, waving over Versai for a consult. I felt like this conversation really should be taking place around a sticky little table, but I made do with what there was. Which was a sticky corner. Dimly lit.

    Low key wondered how many people were conceived in this corner. Just¡­ had a feeling it was more than one.

    ¡°Alright, so, not a combat type dungeon, exactly.¡±

    ¡°They did say we would need to fight in the pit, Tower Master. None of us are particularly skilled at hand to hand fighting, and I guarantee one or all of them jump in the pit with us eventually.¡± Versai shook her beautiful head.¡±

    ¡°Agreed about them jumping in, and also agreed about us probably not being able to clear out the lower tier guys regardless. This is what they do. I¡¯d put you against any of them with your sword in hand, but martial arts?¡± I shook my head.

    ¡°Oh, you would be surprised. Grappling and striking are key parts of soldier training in I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±  She frowned.

    ¡°It''s more than  a pain, huh? Well, either way, you aren¡¯t exactly right. They said we would need to pay, and assumed correctly that we didn¡¯t have any money.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see the distinction.¡± She looked curious.

    ¡°This is a story type scenario, one with variable outcomes and variable routes to clear.¡± I nodded slowly. The setting and vibe said Dishonored but the quest design screamed Morrowind. Much though I loved my JRPG¡¯s, they wouldn¡¯t be the guide here.

    ¡°A story scenario?¡±

    ¡°This never happened in Gradden March. You know it, they know it. This is an unreal place. Like Sebastian, they are real people forced in a role. The mad, cruel sons of Crusher Jim.¡±

    ¡°Well. ¡®Forced.¡¯ Not that I want to talk about it.¡±

    ¡°Some people find it easier to get into character than others?¡±

    ¡°Mmmhmm.¡±

    ¡°So where is the old man?¡±

    She tilted her head to the side, giving me a questioning look.

    ¡°Where is Crusher Jim?¡±

    ¡°Ah. Would finding him help?¡±

    ¡°We need more information. More pieces we can move around. I don¡¯t know what happens if we are still in here by the time the last fight ends, but I¡¯m going to say¡­ nothing good.¡±

    She nodded fervently.

    ¡°So we split up and investigate. Wait. Can you investigate? Can you talk to people if I¡¯m not there?¡±

    ¡°Of course I can!¡±

    ¡°No, I mean, all those things you ¡®don¡¯t want to talk about.¡¯¡±

    She hesitated. Then a little longer. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know. It would be good to talk to anyone, really. For the first time in, I don''t know how long. Even those¡­ brothers. There are just things I don¡¯t want to talk about with you, if that makes sense. Or say for you.¡±

    I have always liked relationship mechanics. It makes sense. You have to take time to get to know someone, and how awesome would it be if you had an actual, visible graph showing your relationship with someone.

    Like, imagine grinding affection with the clerk at the 7/11. Not romantically, just to the point where he would go ¡°Eeeeeeyyy!¡± when you walked in the store. You would know exactly where you were on that because you could just look down and see the number of hearts you have. Or points or whatever.

    You don¡¯t have to guess. You don¡¯t have to wonder if people are pretending to put up with you, but really hate you.

    If they really are your friend.

    ¡­

    ¡°OKAY!¡± I said, smiling. ¡°The first goal is identifying everyone that has a functioning brain on the map. That is, in this building. Quick as we can. Barge in everywhere you can- I don¡¯t know if this map has bouncers or anything. I get the impression that the brothers are the muscle.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±

    ¡°They have a reputation, huh?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± Versai looked helpless.

    ¡°Anywhere you safely can. I mean it. Ignore social convention entirely. Chat with everyone you can, especially if they look like they have a problem. Find out everything you can about them, their problems, hopes, dreams, whatever. They probably won¡¯t be shy about telling you all about it.¡±

    ¡°Err¡­ alright?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t agree to anything just yet. Just go explore and listen.¡±

    ¡°As you wish, Tower Master.¡±

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    We split up. I performed a quick hand seal. Filthy Weeb Powers¡­ ACTIVATE!

    First stop- the bathroom. The bathroom strat has been out of fashion for a while, but finding easter eggs or hidden paths in there has been a game design staple for decades. The devs didn¡¯t strike me as up-to-date on game design, let alone forward thinkers.

    Top notch spot for finding clues hidden in the graffiti too, but in this case it would be like trying to find a needle in a needle factory, after an explosion in the shipping department.

    The toilets, horribly, were not as expected. I leaned into the Filthy Weeb Jutsu, refusing to give in so easily. The stink. God the stink! Like the distillation of intestinal parasites and diets rich in cabbage and liquid carbs.

    I forced myself to step through the swinging wooden door. One step. Another. There was no third step. Because my little leather slipper thingies stuck to the floor.

    I tried to ease it up. Pull with a strong but steady lift of the leg. Denied. The smell was starting to bore in through my nostrils. Really drilling right up in there. Making its own little festering pit to nest in.

    Lift from the heel? I tried rocking it up and forward. This seemed to have some results. I was able to force step after step. I had to grin, even through the horrible smell. This body didn¡¯t get tired. If I could do it once, I could do it a thousand times.

    Unisex toilet, I noticed. And not flushing either. I looked in an open stall. Just¡­ holes in wooden boards. Nothing to wipe with either. Nor, shockingly, a bidet. Not even a poop knife.

    Maybe everyone just brought their own.

    Shuddering, I took a look around for anything that might be useful. I directly dismissed the possibility of a man-sized air vent with a conveniently hinged front grill. Were there any conveniently forgotten items in the stalls? I investigated the empty stalls- nothing. Or nothing I wanted.

    Out of morbid curiosity, I tried taking a piss. Nope. Not that I had anything to excrete- I hadn¡¯t drunk any of the free beer. But maybe an animation would trigger or something. It did not. I tested the boards that you were supposed to sit on. Nailed down, and thick. I had the dark suspicion that it was a latrine, not a sewer.

    Any chance of something being lost in the latrine? I thought about it for a minute.

    On balance, I think I would rather be beaten to death.

    I knocked on the doors of the closed stalls. No answer. I shoved the stalls open. No latches, I had noticed. There were charcoal people sitting on the boards. They just looked at me. Sitting there like posed mannequins. No reaction. No pre-programmed movements. Just mannequins, displaying their ruined wares.

    I started to leave the bathroom when my eye snagged on something. One of the charcoal people had their foot propped up on something. I walked into the stall, boldly ripping my feet from the floor as I went.

    I tried to nudge the leg to one side. No luck. No reaction from the charcoal person either.

    I couldn¡¯t quite see what it was. Nothing too big, maybe a bit taller than a hockey puck? Two pucks? A little smaller than a disposable onna-hole¡­ I would guess, having no idea what one of those are. At all. In any of their many, many configurations.

    Look, they¡¯re cheap, and it¡¯s just harmless curiosity, okay? I know exactly how sickening your hobbies are. I¡¯m the good one here.

    I yanked at the critter¡¯s knee- no reaction. Yanked harder, still stuck. Some of it seemed to be the stiffness of the leg itself- this charcoal briquette might actually be a mannequin.

    Lateral thinking time- if I can¡¯t move the leg, move the thing under the foot. I crouched down to try and poke it from the side. No luck. The light was terrible- whatever it was had a sort of glassy, maybe porcelain feeling to it, but it was as stuck to the floor as my feet.

    I tried to yank it out but the angle was bad. I very quickly realized the problem- I was trying to yank the thing parallel to the floor, while it was in contact with the floor. Maximum friction, maximum stickage. Start from one side and rip up, that was the ticket. And the mannequin¡¯s foot wasn¡¯t exactly flat- there was room to maneuver under the heel.

    Horrible as it was, I needed to kneel down to get it. At this point I was obsessed. It had to be a quest item. It just had to be. Even if it was an easter egg, it would tell us something! I looked at my definitely-manly-tights, weighed the odds, figured that if monster guts couldn¡¯t stain it then it was stain proof, and knelt down inside the stall.

    I tried to crane my head around, maybe shove the other leg out of the way, but it didn¡¯t move any more than the first leg. I managed to hook my fingers around the front of whatever it was. Sort of a ribbed texture, with a bit of a lip to it. Some holes in it. U shaped, with a flat back towards the heel.

    I tried prying it up- no dice. It would be a two hand job. Had to get one hand around the front, the other around the back and, oh yes, now my hands were touching the floor.

    Words cannot describe the sheer textural horror I experienced. The combination of syrupy, sickly, and coarse was, I pray, uniquely awful. There is simply no word, no referent I can point to, to convey just how soul-violating touching that bathroom floor was.

    To cap it off, more or less literally, I was headbutting the charcoal mannequin. My head kept banging into it¡¯s gut. I would try to shift around, reach down and haul, and my head was slamming into its gut. My grunts of effort as I hauled were lost in the BGM of the bar.

    In an especially creepy touch, some of the charcoal mannequins would shuffle in, pretend to use the latrine, and leave. Their feet ripping up on the sticky floor. I had a horrible suspicion I now knew where the ¡°gritty¡± part of the floor texture came from.

    If those shuffling figures were failed Tower Lords and their summons¡­

    I got back to yanking. A solid rhythm this time. I could feel one corner starting to lift up. Steady, firm pull, then down again, reset and try again. It was working, though I¡¯m sure my hair was now filled with dead-co-worker dandruff.

    ¡°Tower Master, I have¡­ Excuse me. I saw nothing.¡±

    I tried to crank my head around-

    ¡°No! I¡¯m just trying-¡±

    ¡°I said I didn¡¯t see anything. Thank God¡­¡±

    The most beautiful woman in the world was looking away, the disgust evident in her face.

    ¡°NO! I¡¯m just, it¡¯s stuck!¡±

    ¡°And you need to get it out. Oh yes, I think one of my maids fell for that one. Once.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t get it out. It¡¯s stuck and I need to get it out!¡±

    ¡°Clearly. I believe in you. You can do it. Or, you know. You could kill yourself. Just. Immediately kill yourself. Right now. That¡¯s an option. Hint Hint.¡±

    ¡°Please! It¡¯s not like that, I need your help here!¡±

    ¡°I think I¡¯m going to throw up.¡± She covered her mouth and bent over. I could see a profile of pure, horrified revulsion. ¡°Oh MY GOD. Of all the vile things a Tower Master has ever asked me to do-¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not like that! Not like that!¡± I was desperately pulling now, my whole body straining to stand up. With a sudden squelch, the thing ripped free of the floor and went flying out of the stalls. Landing with a vile thwap on Versai¡¯s cheek.

 Chapter 38- A Helping Hand

    I faced death in that toilet stall. The furious horror of Versai, concentrated on fingers that could pass as industrial clamps. She managed to lift me off the ground by my throat. Not my neck- her fingers had cinched around my esophagus and lifted from there.

    She was very obviously deciding what the most suitable way to kill me was.

    ¡°Ghhhakk CCGGhhhhggk!¡± I pointed desperately at her cheek. This did not seem to have the desired effect, as she started carrying me, one handed, toes well clear of the ground, towards an empty stall.

    I jabbed with increasing urgency towards her cheek. The holes weren¡¯t big enough for a whole person to pass through. Somehow I knew that was a plus for Versai.

    ¡°Ah. Perfect.¡± Yes, she had seen the wooden latrine seats.

    ¡°Gheeek! Gheeek!¡± I gave up on persuasion and started clawing at the thing stuck to her face.

    My fingers scrabbed against it, then I managed to hook around them. With an obscene squelch, I was able to wrench it off her.

    ¡°OW! Oh I¡¯m going to STOMP you to fit you through there-¡±

    I got it in front of her face, jabbing my fingers to make her look at it. Whatever it was, I had to hope it could save my life.

    ¡°All that, to rescue your¡­ dentures?¡±  She cocked a head who¡¯s perfection managed to be elevated to an almost spiritual level with the contrasting floor-sludge-horror stuck to her cheek.

    ¡°You defiled yourself, God, and me, to rescue your false teeth. I can remember a time when I would feel bad drowning the mentally infirm in the excrement of the Floating Quarter. Long, long time ago. I was a different person, then.¡±

    Her eyes went misty. ¡°A happier person. More naive. ¡®Just hang them,¡¯ I¡¯d have said. ¡®Behead them if they are nobles. No need to get creative.¡¯¡±

    Icy blue lasers bored into my skull. ¡°I get it now. Really. I see that I was wrong. I didn¡¯t take into account the moral satisfaction.¡±

    I waved the dentures urgently, my mind racing a mile a minute. I had the barest outlines of a quest structure, one that might just get us out of here alive. If only I could tell her!

    She gave me a calculating look, then the hole in the boards. ¡°Some folding may be required.¡±  Her eyes narrowed slightly more. ¡°Or rolling. Rolling into a narrow tube. Speak. Use your last seconds with an intact spine to explain.¡±

    ¡°Ghhhkks,¡± I said.

    She relaxed her fingers fractionally.

    ¡°We need a lot of cash. More than they can cover. We need them to throw us out, but not kill us. And we need all the information and loot we can get before they do.¡±

    ¡°And what does that have to do with¡­¡± She gestured broadly towards the other stall. With the hand that was holding me up. I was miserably flailed, then, when she was done, I tried to explain.

    ¡°It¡¯s the same prizefight over and over. Vinnie Gustin versus Sam Pershing. Vinnie gets killed every time. Glass jaw.¡±

    ¡°AND THAT HAS WHAT. TO DO. WITH ANYTHING?!¡± She shook me around. The phrase ¡®like a terrier with a rat¡¯ unfortunately did leap to mind.

    ¡°Loot from Sebastian¡¯s place! The betting slip!¡±

    That got her to pause. As well it should have. The bet was forty thousand guilders, with three to one on Vinnie winning. One hundred and twenty thousand sure sounded like a hell of a lot in a dive like this.

    ¡°Alright¡­ but¡­ dentures?¡±

    ¡°Guessing these matches don¡¯t allow mouthguards and gloves?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s a mouthguard? And no, bare knuckle. Fewer headshots means the fights go on longer.¡±

    Ah. Alarming to know that random bit of knowledge was correct. Well, let¡¯s see if Baki The Grappler came through for me on the teeth thing.

    ¡°If his bite¡¯s messed up, it¡¯s going to affect how well he can clench his jaw and take a punch. I didn¡¯t know specifically this would be specifically here, but I knew something would be somewhere, and this was pretty well hidden. So I figure, odds are excellent this is related. A quest item, even. It¡¯s also why we need to find him and talk to him.¡±

    ¡°To confirm your insane theory.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°You realize the logic is completely bizarre, right? He lost his dentures in the bathroom, somehow, didn¡¯t pick them up again for some reason, and now he has a glass jaw?¡±

    ¡°Maybe he didn¡¯t lose them. Maybe someone took them. Not that I am slandering the good reputation of this place, I¡¯m sure it was an honest accident.¡± I tried to see if my doll body would let me roll my eyes harder than normal. Results were inconclusive.

    ¡°And they wind up in this utterly disgusting latrine, hidden under a burnt former Tower Master. Or Summons or whoever.¡±

    ¡°Basically?¡±

    ¡°Insane.¡±

    ¡°And yet, there was actually something hidden in the toilets when I went looking.¡± And please GOD don¡¯t let it be an easter egg!

    Versai shook her head. ¡°I saw a water barrel and soap in a storage room. I¡¯m going to clean myself up, and you can clean up¡­ that. And yourself. Although you really should just drown yourself, for everyone¡¯s sake.¡±

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t doing anything weird! Also¡­ can we drown?¡±

    ¡°You were, and yes. Happened to me a couple of times when I was on a ruins expedition.¡±

    Well that¡¯s horrible.

    ¡°Funny. I thought the breathing thing was¡­ cosmetic, for lack of a better word.¡±

    ¡°It is. You can hold your breath basically forever.¡±

    ¡°Wait, really? Then how did you drown?¡±

    ¡°Damned if I know. I¡¯m a good swimmer. I fell in the water, sank, then I was standing in front of a new Tower Master. So. Drowned.¡±

    She dropped me and made a point of staring at her hand like it was filthy. I didn¡¯t mention the goop on her face. I was certain she knew.

    ¡°So why did you come looking for me?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Because I found the proprietor. Crusher Jim.¡±

    Versai led me to a tiny door wedged in between a pillar and what I was guessing was the dressing rooms for the fighters. The big sign saying ¡°Fighters Only¡± was the clue there. Through the door was a flight of splintering wooden stairs staggering into the dark.

    There was a faint thudding coming from the darkness.

    ¡°Come on, it¡¯s actually fine once your eyes adjust.¡± Versai walked carefully down the stairs. I couldn¡¯t help but vividly remember that she had been killed who-knows-how-many times, and as a looper, probably had zero fear of monster free deaths. And yet, she looked cautious.

    I still followed her of course. NPC to talk to.

    Versai was right- once you were in the basement, you found that there was enough light filtering through the gaps in the floorboards that you could roughly make out what was down here. Which was barrels, mostly, a few long shelves that probably held bottles once, and an alarming amount of what smelled like rat piss.

    We followed the sound of the thumps. Near the back wall was a punching bag that certainly weighed more than I did, and the single largest human being I have ever seen.

    I¡¯ve never been in a room with a pro-football player. I¡¯m told that it¡¯s a borderline alien experience. They were born with a physique suitable for football, and then spent every moment since childhood developing that physique to be as perfect for their sport as possible.

    According to people who have done it- it¡¯s like standing next to a different species. Even the little ones are bigger than average. Muscular in a way most people have never experienced. Faster, too. Even the slow ones could outrun a suburb''s worth of ¡®runners.¡¯

    Pro football players have a body familiar enough to be recognizable, just better in almost every way than yours.

    I mean American Football, of course. Soccer players are shredded, but not what you would call big.

    Jim was born to be a bare knuckle brawler, a wrestler. A crusher. And he was damn big.

    A silverback gorilla? I don¡¯t know, I¡¯ve never seen one. Big as a football player, muscled like Tyson. Not saying he would give Yujiro Hanma a challenge, but he was sure built on those lines.

    Fists the size of my head casually flowed out in jabs and hooks. Each landing with a dull thud. The bag barely shivered. Yet, somehow, I did. It was the way every bit of Jim¡¯s body was completely coordinated. Every speck of him was engaged in the act of punching.

    I wouldn¡¯t last a single hit. I wouldn¡¯t even survive a graze. There was something in the sound of that thud. There was something¡­

    ¡°No guests down here. I¡¯ll be seeing you at the end of the night.¡± Jim¡¯s voice was low, rough.

    ¡°You come out to tidy up?¡±

    ¡°I come out to make a mess. Assuming you haven¡¯t died in the pit or to the boys.¡± He grunted. ¡°Huh. Usually I can¡¯t say that. Wonder if it¡¯s little Versai there that¡¯s responsible.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine how.¡± Her voice was clipped.

    ¡°Cause you¡¯re the only thing that¡¯s different. He sure ain¡¯t.¡±

    The fists kept swinging out, steady. Almost relaxed. Thud. Thud. Thud.

    ¡°Served under your old man, you know.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ served my father?¡±

    ¡°Mmm. Man at arms, of course. Guards.¡±

    ¡°Which guards?¡±

    That got a punch with a little more oomph to it.

    ¡°The Guards.¡±

    Her eyebrows raised, and she reluctantly nodded.

    ¡°How many campaigns?¡±

    ¡°Eight.¡±

    That got another, considerably more respectful pause.

    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you know why we are all here, doing this?¡± Jim¡¯s voice was casual.

    ¡°No. No, I do not. And I wish to God I did.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the use of wishing?¡± The fists swung into the motionless heavy bag.

    ¡°What else have I got? I gave up hope a long time ago. A faint wish is all I have left.¡± Versai¡¯s voice was brittle.

    Crusher just shook his head and kept punching. The silence stretched. Eventually I asked-

    ¡°How, exactly, are you punching that bag?¡±

    That got a snort. ¡°How¡¯s it look like? Not that copying me is going to save you.¡±

    ¡°No, really. How? Because I don¡¯t think I¡¯m seeing what I think I¡¯m seeing.¡±

    The thuds stopped. For the first time, Jim gave us a proper look.

    ¡°I was mistaken. He is a little different. Come take a closer look. See what I¡¯ve spent my time working on. Instead of wishing.¡±

    I walked closer. It was terrifying, in a way. Like walking on the very edge of the subway platform. On the one hand, you knew that you were perfectly safe so long as you didn¡¯t slip. On the other hand, that train was awful big and coming awful fast.

    I reached towards the punching bag and raised an eyebrow. Jim shrugged. I tried to push it. The thing barely budged- but it did budge. Jim nodded grimly.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the least of it. Here¡¯s a normal jab.¡±

    I didn¡¯t see the punch. It was that fast. I just heard the impact, and watched the bag go flying back. Jim stopped it on the return swing with one hand.

    ¡°See. Normal. Now. Watch closely. Very closely.¡±

    The huge fist pulled back, rising in front of Jim¡¯s face. He was moving slowly now. I could watch the muscles move, from the tips of his toes, through his legs, his enormous back, all the way down his arm, to the twisting wrist, to the rigid hand, down to the very tips of his knuckles.

    A simple jab that coordinated every single muscle in the huge man¡¯s body. A jab he had thrown¡­ hundreds of thousands of times. Millions, maybe. Who knows how long he had been trapped in this loop for?

    The jab thrust forward slowly, and stopped just as it touched the bag. It was hard to see in the dim light, almost impossible to see. But I swear I saw space bend and distort where his knuckles stopped. Straining, like a balloon pulled tight.

    ¡°Are you¡­¡± I breathed in wonder.

    ¡°All I know is fighting. Do it often enough, you get good at it or die. I can¡¯t die here. So I got very, very good.¡± There wasn¡¯t a flicker of pride on his face. It was just facts.

    Water is wet. Fire is hot. Crusher Jim will kill you in a fight.

    ¡°About done being in this pit though. So I¡¯m getting out the same way I got in. Swinging. Reckon I can break this place. Reckon I can escape.¡±

 Chapter 39- The Violence Inherent to the System

    ¡°How?¡± I breathed, barely able to believe what I was seeing.

    ¡°Got good.¡± Jim shrugged.

    ¡°But¡­¡±

    ¡°All there is to it.¡± Jim went back to throwing his casual punches. The thuds took on a new feeling- dangerous, yes, but hopeful.

    ¡°Scram. Figure a way out, or see me later. That¡¯s all.¡±

    I tried to force my brain back into gear. I could see the basement getting darker. Colder. Jim¡¯s face was getting colder and more remote too- he had pushed things as far as he cared to, and we wouldn¡¯t like the consequences if we pushed him further.

    Versai and I started backing away towards the stairs. Desperation squeezed the words out of my mouth- ¡°Can we see the fighters? I have something that belongs to Vinnie.¡±

    Jim grunted. ¡°Really? Fine.¡±

    We got up the stairs as fast as we dared.

    Emerging into the orange light of the bar was like being reborn. Knowing something terrible, something of awful power, lived in the dark below.

    Versai and I shared a look. I didn¡¯t know what to say. She didn¡¯t either. We just took a moment to pull ourselves together. When we both felt strong enough, I looked over at the enormously endowed and muscled Daphnae.

    ¡°Hey, Daphnae, your dad said it was OK for us to talk to the fighters before the fight.¡±

    ¡°The hell he did.¡± She grunted from across the bar.

    ¡°I have something that belongs to Vinnie.¡±

    I could practically see the gears turning in her head. It was the setting, the if-then rules shifting around, changing things. ¡°Be quick then. They go into the pit in ten minutes.¡±

    I nodded. My summons were standing around in their idle loops. Rakim looked reasonably on the ball, but even she was repeating the same few gestures. Took longer for the loop to work through. There were some variations thrown in. But she was locked in the same rigid patterns as the rest of them.

    The difference between Four and Six Stars was just that huge.

    I shook my head and forced my feet towards a place of horrors. A place I had never set foot in since highschool.

    The locker rooms.

    Just treat it like a sports anime. You are just checking in on Baki. On Ippo. On those baby fascists on Blue Lock. It¡¯s all good. Maybe later we can, completely by accident, find ourselves in a locker room with the girls from Birdie Wing. Who, okay, would have absolutely no use for me, but it¡¯s a calming thought.

    Versai, ever the Vanguard, walked through the doors without giving the faintest damn. There was a short hallway running left to right, with doors on either end. Neither labeled.

    ¡°Go left.¡± I said.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Easiest way to solve a maze.¡± I shrugged. She looked along the perfectly straight hallway, gave me a scathing look, and went left.

    I knocked. A battered slab of man opened the door. He was wearing briefs, and nothing else. He smelled like the reason deodorant was invented. Not that he would know, his nose had been smashed flat years ago, and he wouldn¡¯t have heard anyone saying anything through those cauliflower ears.

    ¡°You Vinnie?¡± I asked. He flipped me the bird and slammed the door in my face.

    ¡°I guess not.¡±

    Versai half shrugged. We turned around and tried the other door.

    I heard a Mumford and Sons song once- I don¡¯t know what it was called, not really my genre. But one verse lodged permanently in my skull. Just the image of it.

    In the clearing stands a boxer

    And a fighter by his trade

    And he carries the reminders

    Of every glove that laid him down

    Or cut him till he cried out

    In his anger and his shame

    "I am leaving, I am leaving"

    But the fighter still remains

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    That guy opened the door. Torn up face. Nose as mashed as Perkins. Same cauliflower ears. The big difference? His lips bent inward. His mouth was a barely covered hole. There was something in his eyes. He didn¡¯t remember the loop, but he didn¡¯t look like someone going out there with the expectation of winning.

    I recognized a familiar odor on him. It was Loser Stink. The special pheromones emitted by those who have given up before things even begin. I had spent a lifetime producing those exact chemical markers.

    Loser Stink was an incredible thing. You couldn¡¯t scrub it away, no matter how hot the shower was, or how harshly you scrubbed. I know. I tried. I tried¡­ so often. Then I gave up. It was okay. The 2-D world was there to catch me when I fell.

    Nobody had been there for Vinnie. He just kept falling, all the way into the Pit.

    ¡°Hi Vinnie- heard you lost your dentures, and I found these. Gave ¡®em a quick wash.¡± Read- scrubbed for twenty minutes and used half a jug of lye soap. ¡°Do they look like yours?¡±

    His face seemed to transform. A look of genuine wonder widened his eyes. There was something almost childlike in how happy he was.

    ¡°YESH! My TEEF!¡± He took them from my proffering hand, and popped them in. A few adjustments later, and he had a smile Colgate would be happy to advertise.

    ¡°Boy, that¡¯s better. Been eating nothing but soup for a week now! Where did you find them?¡±

    ¡°Oh someone left them in the coat room, and they got lost in the piles.¡± I used my prepared lie. I just didn¡¯t have the heart to tell him the truth. Besides, I needed him to fight his best later tonight.

    ¡°Oh? No idea how they wound up there. Must have gotten ratted one night, taken them out for some reason, and was too pissed to realize I had forgotten them. Thanks again. Kind of you.¡±

    I nodded and smiled. ¡°Ah, we are rooting for you, so when I found ¡®em, I figured I¡¯d best run them over.¡±

    That threw him. ¡°You are rooting for me?¡±

    I showed him the betting slip. He took it like it was made of glass. I saw him take two big steps back and sit with a heavy thud on the bench behind him. Wooden lockers lined the walls. There was a bucket, a jug, a basin, and a mirror. Other than the bench, that was everything physical.

    There was a smell, lingering, B.O. and liniment. Something else too. Blood, maybe? Something in the smell told you what kind of place you were in. Not a changing room- a purgatory. Waiting to be called to judgment.

    All those fighting anime started making a little more sense. There was something in this room. Something that tested people, before they even went out.

    Vinnie hadn¡¯t passed the room¡¯s test.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen the like. Never seen so much money in my life. Knock a zero off and it¡¯s still more than I ever won in a purse.¡±

    His voice was soft.

    ¡°Never seen a bet that size in the Pit neither, nor heard of one. Guess it makes sense it would be you putting down the bet.¡± He glanced over at Versai. ¡°I served under your father, you know. We all knew what his princesses looked like.¡±

    ¡°I had no idea.¡± She admitted. ¡°He always kept us away from that part of his life.¡±

    ¡°Not very successfully. We all toasted you when you were made a Queen¡¯s Guard. Some ¡°mysterious benefactor¡± bought enough ale for the whole Banner.¡±

    ¡°He never told me. Scolded me, actually. Said the Army would coarsen me.¡±

    ¡°Dad¡¯s are like that. We might be bursting with pride, but we just want our kids safe, you know?¡±  He smiled a little. ¡°It¡¯s why I fight. Jenna¡¯s five. Win or lose, I¡¯ll earn enough to see her fed tomorrow.¡±

    The room went quiet for a while. His eyes never seemed to leave the ticket. Like if he stared at it enough, it might become real. Some tangible proof that someone really believed in him. Believed in him enough to stake a fortune on him.

    ¡°Well. We obviously hope you will win. Not asking anything inappropriate. Nothing that would bother management. Just rooting for you.¡±

    My voice was small now. The emotions in the room were too big. I¡­ don¡¯t know how to exist here, in this space. I try very hard not to feel that much.

    I was trying very hard to remember this was scripted. That Vinnie Gustin probably never existed. That he was just a fancier mannequin, a nicer version of the charcoal figures outside.

    It was a losing fight. Damn Rosalia! Damn the devs!

    ¡°I¡¯ll try. My oath on it. You will have my very bloody best.¡± The look in his eyes had changed. I smiled. He was passing the room¡¯s test now.

    ¡°You know, I¡¯ve asked around, and Pershing developed a bad habit. Leads with a left hook. Not a jab, a hook. Likes to try and end the fight early.¡±

    Vinnie raised a scarred eyebrow. ¡°Does he now?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I hear.¡±

    ¡°Who from?¡±

    ¡°Daphnae.¡±

    Vinnie¡¯s face split into a grin. All of a sudden, I could see how he earned the nickname ¡°The Violator.¡±

    ¡°Well. Can¡¯t let ¡®ole Pershing develop bad habits, can we? Daphnae has got a keen eye, too.¡±

    ¡°They are going to call for you in just a minute. We will see ourselves out. But remember, we are rooting for you.¡± I tried to smile as I collected the slip.

    ¡°Buy me a pint or three after the fight.¡±

    ¡°You got it.¡± I nodded and we slipped out the door as quick as we could.

    Daphnae and the brothers gave us a hard look when we got back into the bar, but they didn¡¯t say anything. I glanced over at Versai. ¡°Think he¡¯s got a chance?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. He doesn¡¯t look beaten, for a start. If he can land an early counter, Pershing could be in for a very bad night.¡±

    A charcoal man in the ruined remains of a suit stood at the edge of the pit. He cupped his hands around his mouth. ¡°Ladies and Gentlemen, the Main Event!¡±

    ¡°Do you have a backup plan if this doesn¡¯t work?¡± Versai whispered as the announcer tried to get the non-existent crowd hyped for the fight.

    ¡°Use Sebastian¡¯s old army knife and try to stab someone a lot before they gang up on me and beat me to death.¡± I said. I wasn¡¯t optimistic. I had a feeling they were plenty familiar with knives.

    Versai nodded, as the fighters came out of their rooms. ¡°Don¡¯t bother. Just slit your throat. Much less painful and humiliating. Not trying to be mean, just how it is.¡±

    Vinnie came out, waiving his fists in the air, listening to cheers only the fighters were hearing. I could see the brothers narrowing their eyes, and Daphnae suddenly lurched forward, looking over the bar.

    ¡°Yeah. But for some reason, I just don¡¯t want to give up. I might die anyway, but I just don¡¯t want to quit before the test.¡±

 Chapter 40- A Raised Fist

    ¡°Attention all summons! Cheer for Vinnie, the fighter in the black shorts, boo Pershing, the fighter in the blue shorts. Before the fight starts, make a point of saying the most distracting, hurtful things you can think of about Skullcrusher there. Get loud!¡±

    Did my Awakened Souls have content specific dialog? Let¡¯s find out! Because I¡¯m damn certain the devs didn¡¯t shell out much for voice actors. AI is a curse on the working stiff.

    Rakim nodded calmly and stepped forward. ¡°Hey Perishing, who¡¯s gonna have more teeth after this fight, you or your mom?¡±

    I choked, trying to grab Versai¡¯s pauldron-covered shoulder to steady myself. Versai swayed out of the way, definitely by coincidence, and I nearly fell over.

    ¡°Mika wants to know if every woman covers her drink when Mr. Skullcrusher comes into the bar, or if it¡¯s just her?¡±

    Versai, carefully not looking at me, chimed in- ¡°Hey, are you ¡°Wee-Willy-Winky¡± Pershing? Wee-Willy-Winky Pershing? Or is it Piss-Boy Pershing? You Piss-Boy Pershing? Piiiisssss-booooy Peeeee-rrrshing!¡± Her voice was a particularly piercing sing-song cadence by the end.

    ¡°Pammy won¡¯t have to heal Mister Stinky, right? Mister Stinky is just going to die, right? Oh NO! What if Pammy needs to heal Stinky?!¡±

    ¡°My granny¡¯s a better fighter than you, Pershing, and she¡¯s terrible. Boo. BOO!¡±

    I gave Kim a look, and slowly shook my head. She sagged a little bit. Didn¡¯t like negativity, right? Ah well.

    ¡°Think of it as debuffing Pershing before you buff Vinnie.¡± I encouraged her, even though I was touched that one of my summons still had something like a conscience.

    She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and turned back towards the fighters.

    ¡°Hey, you in the blue shorts, lie down so we can all recognize you!¡±

    Damn. Ice cold. I could feel my warm feelings freeze over. Seemed to make Pershing plenty hot though, as he swung around to glare at Kim. The charcoal MC rang a bell. Skullcrusher spun and decided to show everyone how he earned his nickname.

    Pershing let the momentum launch his fist towards Vinnie¡¯s head. A sharp, slicing left hook, coming almost faster than my eyes could follow.

    Vinnie blocked it with his right fist. It took me half a second to see his left buried wrist deep in Pershing¡¯s gut.

    ¡°Got him!¡± Versai hissed. ¡°KILL HIM, VINNIE!¡±

    That seemed to flip a switch in my summons, who suddenly got a lot more animated. Kim was practically a one woman cheer squad. Pammy waved her little fist or hid her face, depending on how things were going. Mika got pretty vocal too- sounded like she liked the fights. Rakim was a bit more laid back, but when she did yell, there was some guts to it.

    Me? I just did my best. Never been to a boxing match before. Or¡­ MMA fight? Whatever this was, it was brutal.

    The early gut punch had knocked the wind out of Pershing, and Vinnie clearly looked to capitalize. He was throwing punches fast, body shots mostly, with the occasional flickering jab coming for Pershing¡¯s chin.

    Pershing was a ring veteran. He tightened up his guard, and I could see not much of it was getting through. Pershing¡¯s right hand dropped slightly- the hook came from the right this time, whipping out for the side of Vinnie¡¯s head.

    Vinnie seemed to have seen it coming- he swayed back, then took a tiny step forward and through his own hook. Caught Pershing right on the button, just on the left side of the chin.

    He was down! Vinnie rushed in, but Pershing fended him off with a kick to the gut. Skullcrusher scrambled to his feet before Vinnie could capitalize on the slip.

    If Pershing was mad before, he was in a blind fury now. He came up swinging. Throwing wild haymakers, varying high and low, constantly trying to bull Vinnie up against the wall of the pit and work him over.

    Vinnie wasn¡¯t having it- keeping distance with his jab, keeping moving. Blocking what he couldn¡¯t dodge. It looked like Vinnie was getting the crap kicked out of him.

    ¡°Damn, COME ON VINNIE! YOU GOT THIS!¡±

    ¡°He does got this.¡± Versai grinned nastily. ¡°Pershing is screwing himself.¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡±

    ¡°Watch.¡±

    Vinnie kept moving, dodging, blocking, throwing the occasional jab. I saw a couple of the jabs slip through, but I don¡¯t think they did much beyond piss of Pershing. Or keep him pissed off.

    Pershing looked insane. The muscles of his neck swelled and tensed. His head looked like a rounded pyramid sticking up from his shoulders. Like a lizard flaring its frill. Red faced and sweating and swinging like mad.

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    I thought the punches he was throwing were devastating. They looked like they should smash apart anyone they hit. Though¡­ something was slowly dawning on me. I never would have thought this before today, but-

    ¡°Neither of them really know how to fight.¡± I said to Versai as quietly as I could over the crowd noise.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Look how he¡¯s punching. Remember how Crusher Jim punched?¡±

    Versai jolted a little at that, then seemed to laugh silently. She shook her head and pointed down into the pit.

    ¡°This is a fighting pit in the Floating Quarter. They aren¡¯t martial arts masters, or even top notch prize fighters. They are thugs, beating other thugs for money. Compared to the monster in the basement, they aren¡¯t even qualified to be trash.¡± Her smile was¡­ not nice. ¡°But some trash rests above others. It¡¯s time for the fight to wrap up.¡±

    Pershing was still throwing the big hooks and haymakers. The audience loved him for that, screaming and cheering him on. But even I could see they were slower. Wilder. Vinnie was barely having to dodge, and now he was throwing counters. Hard fists smashed into Pershing¡¯s ribs. If Vinnie wasn¡¯t breaking bones, he was knocking the air out.

    I didn¡¯t see what changed. Pershing came high and fast with another hook, and Vinnie caught him with a straight right. Landed just where the last right did- just left of the point of Pershing¡¯s chin. And then the skullcrusher was down.

    Vinnie was on him. This time, the defensive kick came too slow. Vinnie shoved it to one side and pushed in, getting between Pershing¡¯s legs, then across his waist. Sitting on him. Pershing was throwing punches, trying to buck him off, but Vinnie had him. Had him, and wasn¡¯t about to let go.

    It was all headshots now. Vinnie straightened his back, keeping his own face out of the way while he slipped punches past Pershing¡¯s guard. The Skullcrusher was gassed. Nothing left to defend himself with. Just stubborn pride, and, I suspect, the nagging feeling that this wasn¡¯t how things were supposed to go.

    Vinnie changed his attack- rather than going knuckles first, he was dropping hammerfists. You could see why they were called that. Pershing got his head hammered into the ground. His eyes rolled up. He went limp. Surely they would call the fight?

    They didn¡¯t. Not for ten long seconds.

    ¡°WINNER BY DOMINATION, VINNIE THE VIOLATOR GUUUUUUUSSSSSSTIIIIIIIINNNNNNN!¡±

    The charcoal mannequins went nuts, waving their stumpy hands in the air, the sounds of cheers vibrating off the walls. Vinnie looked up out of the pit, his eyes half closed. Like he was in a state of religious ecstasy. Like it was the greatest moment in his life, cheered on by the corpses of dolls.

    The Sons of Crusher Jim weren¡¯t cheering though. Neither was Daphnae, who vaulted the bar and planted herself between us and the door.

    ¡°This changes nothing. Nothing.¡± The Lion brother snarled at us. The others nodded, though the wolf seemed to keep his own counsel for now.

    ¡°No, it changes everything.¡± I smiled. I had always dreamed of this moment. Of finally getting to shut up a bully because I was RIGHT.

    ¡°Dad¡¯s still going to kill you. He won¡¯t care about any of this.¡± Daphnae¡¯s voice came out in a low rasp. There was something in there- wonder, maybe? And fear.

    ¡°Nah. You are going to walk us out the door. After you pay us our winnings.¡± Slowly, savoring the moment, I pulled out the betting slip.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t place any bets.¡± The Orca brother grinned. ¡°Think you can pawn us off with a fake slip?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t place the bet. Sebastian did.¡±

    The brothers came to a stop with a lurch. ¡°You have Sebastian ap Gradden¡¯s betting slip?¡± The wolf asked softly. His sharp eyes looked at the eagle brother, not us. I couldn¡¯t read the look.

    ¡°Yes, we do. Forty thousand at three to one on Vinnie. One hundred and twenty thousand guilders. Payable right now, thank you.¡±

    There was a beat. Then another. I could see them deciding whether they would just kill me, or honor the slip. Given the way looks were passing, I was betting on them killing me. So I quickly added-

    ¡°Of course, we would actually rather not be paid in guilders. Answers, weapons, traps, supplies, equipment you collected from-¡± I waved at the mannequins. ¡°Those would actually be much more valuable to us than cash. And naturally, we would need to be released from this place. Alive and safe.¡±

    ¡°Fair.¡± The orca brother nodded, grinning.

    ¡°Broad minded.¡± The eagle brother was also grinning, stepping away from the table.

    ¡°Farsighted, I¡¯d call it.¡± The lion brother was also splitting out from the table, starting to move around the pit towards us.

    ¡°I probably wouldn¡¯t go quite that far.¡± The wolf brother murmured. He had managed to get halfway to us before I had even noticed him moving. He wasn¡¯t fast, it was just¡­ you lost track of him, somehow.

    ¡°There is, perhaps, one small oversight.¡± The Orca brother walked to the edge of the fighting pit, and from a standing start, leapt clean across it. The pit was the size of a professional boxing ring. He made it look like he was hopping a puddle.

    ¡°One teensy little thing you missed.¡± The eagle brother was sweeping out wide, but still making his way towards us.

    ¡°Easy to see how you might have overlooked it.¡± The lion brother rumbled, nearly on us.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t Sebastian ap Gradden. And even if he was here himself, he wouldn¡¯t dare try to collect.¡± The eagle brother laughed, loud and angry.

    ¡°You see, welching on a debt only matters if anyone knows you done it.¡± The orca pushed through the mannequins with a casual brutality.

    ¡°And nobody is going to find out nothing. Not now, not ever.¡± The lion brother was on us now, looking over Rakim, and grinning.

    ¡°It¡¯s not much. Not a fancy place.¡± The eagle brother was leering at Mika, who was glaring right back. ¡°But it is ours. All ours. Forever.¡±

    ¡°You know what? I¡¯m going to save your hat. I¡¯m going to make sure your little puppet body wears it all the time, so I can say ¡®Look at old clever clogs! Ain¡¯t he the smart one?¡¯¡± The orca brother¡¯s breath stank, even from a few feet away.

    ¡°Tell me, ¡®Tower Master,'' you ever been beaten to death? Torn apart by wild animals? Watched your fingers get bitten off one by one? Watched your precious dollies get done awful-like?¡± The lion brother growled.

    ¡°Never had a princess. Never even had a lady maid, unlike some.¡± The eagle brother¡¯s voice was venomous. ¡°But that changes. Right now.¡±

    Versai had her shield up, and was tugging at her sword. It wouldn¡¯t leave the sheath.

    ¡°Oh, no weapons here, Princess. Just fists. And other things.¡± The lion growled. Showing all his teeth.

 Chapter 41- Fair? Whatâ€™s that?

    Bullies never fight fair. I was numb, looking around at the brothers crowding in. They don¡¯t. They cheat. They use your reliance on the rules against you. They use your fear and hope against you.

    Bullies love games. It makes them powerful, and makes you weak. You keep thinking that, if only you play by the rules, you can win. You can be free of the bully. But that¡¯s not how the game works. The house always wins.

    The sons of Crusher Jim slowly pressed in. Enjoying my fear. Enjoying the thought of what they would do to Versai. A rare treat, no doubt, after an eternally repeating night.

    They would probably tell themselves it was justified, that this was how things were meant to be. Maybe we were even the bad ones, cheating, trying to ruin their fun.

    They were in arm¡¯s reach now- the Lion, the Eagle, the Orca, the-

    Where was the Wolf?!

    I looked around frantically, but I didn¡¯t see him.

    ¡°Nowhere to run, boy. Nowhere to hide.¡± The Eagle sounded excited. Eager for what was to come. I think he wished I would try to run. Daphnae filled the hall to the door. Some part of me had hoped she would at least look conflicted. She didn¡¯t. If there was a Daphnae route, clearly I hadn¡¯t gone down it.

    There was no noise coming from the pit. Vinnie was apparently a non-factor, his role in tonight¡¯s events was complete. Shame. He couldn¡¯t have saved us, but it would have been nice to know someone could throw a punch for us.

    ¡°I think if you are going to not honor a bet, you better get your old man¡¯s okay. It¡¯s his place not yours!¡± I yelled, desperately hoping that something might stop them.

    The Eagle sniggered. ¡°He just wants to punch things. Crush things. He don¡¯t care how we play with ¡®em first. Noooo, you don¡¯t want Dad to come up. No you do not.¡±

    The Lion brother reached out a finger and traced it down Versai¡¯s shield. It made an appalling screeching noise.

    ¡°Wonder what you look like behind that shield, Princess. Wonder if your armor comes off.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t live to find out.¡±

    ¡°Heh. Live.¡±

    I desperately tried to find another angle. Something to scare them off. And just where the hell was the Wolf?!

    My eyes were darting around the bar trying to find- Daphnae was looking at the door next to the bar. Eyes wide. She looked¡­ scared.

    ¡°You sure you won¡¯t honor your debts?¡± I yelled at the Eagle brother.

    ¡°A debt is something someone owes me.¡± His smile was awful. ¡°Let me show you how I collect.¡±

    His hand shot towards my face, faster than I could see. Almost the last thing I ever saw- by the time I realized he had moved, his fingertips were touching my eyelashes. And he was making the strangest keening noise.

    The Eagle brother collapsed slowly to his knees, clutching his groin. Standing behind him was the Wolf. The Wolf carefully kicked his brother, hard, right in the kidney. Nobody moved to stop him. Nobody said anything. Once he was certain the Eagle brother would be in no position to fight back, he waded in and started beating him in the face.

    Huge fist after huge fist smashing down on the broken-winged eagle. Breaking his nose. His eyes swelled and turned purple in seconds. Cuts opened across his forehead and eyebrows, covering his face in fast running blood. Seconds later, his hunched over body was covered in yet more blood- the vicious eagle becoming a bloody victim on the floor of the Pit.

    The Wolf wasn¡¯t done with him. He started stomping him. Breaking his ankles. I could hear them snap. I could hear the screams. It was so silent. Nobody moved. Nobody said a word. I couldn¡¯t understand it. They had seemed so united.

    The door to the basement opened. Crusher Jim walked out of the darkness, and I knew why.

    Standing in front of Crusher Jim was like standing at the foot of a skyscraper. Rationally, you knew it had a measurable height, a measurable weight, that it was ultimately a human construction and that compared to the vastness of the world, it was nothing. Invisible. But standing right there, lost in its shadow, you couldn¡¯t believe that anything could be so big.

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    You couldn''t believe that you could be so small.

    The Wolf brother didn¡¯t let up for a second. His punches got even more vicious. Breaking ribs now. Snapping fingers and crushing toes.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough lad. That¡¯s enough. You are a good brother. Always looking out for them. Spoiling them, really.¡±

    ¡°Dad, I¡¯m handling it.¡±

    ¡°Yes. In your fashion.¡±  He was light on his feet. It didn¡¯t feel right, but Crusher Jim moved effortlessly across the room.

    ¡°Problem is, you boys haven¡¯t been thinking. Not that I ever encouraged thinking, much, but still. At least understand what you are looking at. The point of this place isn¡¯t us. It never was about us. It¡¯s about them.¡± He pointed at me. ¡°Watch.¡±  He looked over at me. ¡°You have questions. Ask them.¡±

    ¡°One of your sons, maybe him-¡± I pointed at the eagle brother shuddering on the floor, choking down his screams. ¡°Was¡­ romantically entangled with one of the Marchioness'' maids. Sebastian believed that someone was pouring poison into the Marchioness'' ear, and one of your boys would know who, or at least how it was happening.¡±

    Jim nodded calmly. ¡°She didn¡¯t need any help to always do the wrong thing. Ap Gradden was a demon on the battlefield and a legendary fool with women. We all knew she was a wrong ¡®un. Speak boy. You were having little Efa, weren¡¯t you? What did you hear?¡±

    The Eagle brother shouldn¡¯t have been able to speak. His ribs were broken. He had taken repeated shots to the kidneys, the lungs, his guts. He had been kicked in the fork so hard, he¡¯d never need to worry about child support. His nose was smashed almost perfectly flat against his face. Blinded from having his eyes swollen shut then covered with blood.

    ¡°Well, we weren¡¯t anything serious, like.¡± His voice came out quite clearly. Everyone¡¯s eyes widened in horror, as his face contorted in pain. He didn¡¯t want to speak. He was being forced to speak, no matter what it did to his body.

    ¡°But yeah, I did hear a little something. The Reverend, the old hypocrite, ain¡¯t who he used to be. Not leering at the maids no more, nor being free with his ¡®ands. Spending an awful lot of time with her Ladyship, though. Feeding her lots of meat.¡±

    There was a sniggering noise. It should have been an impossible sound to make with his nose so destroyed. His fingers dug into the floorboards as his back arched. Agony plain everywhere but in his voice.

    ¡°Only, literally, like. Even with all the shortages, they would get entire cows delivered to ¡®em. Have to be washed down afterwards with bucket after bucket of water. Efa said, one time, she saw the Reverend with his shoes off. ¡®Is feet looked like hands. Silliest thing she ever saw.¡±

    I looked at Versai. The horror on her face¡­ probably matched my own.

    ¡°Anything else? Anything at all?¡±

    ¡°Nah. Nothing about that. Loads of people having little accidents, loads of things left unreplaced or not repaired. Efa thought it was dead funny, what a little twit her Ladyship was. Reckoned she would watch a Marchioness get a thrashing when his Lordship got back. Looking forward to it, the little minx.¡±

    ¡°The defenses of the upper town were sabotaged too?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know anything about that. Probably, though.¡±

    ¡°Anything else?!¡±

    ¡°Not about that, nah. I think everything else went more or less how you know. Sebastian knew something was wrong with the Marchioness but all his people kept having accidents. The Madame at the Blue Roses saw everything was going to Hell, tried to get everyone to rally together. Put a lot of money into equipping people, most of whom ran off as soon as they got the gear. Reckon she knew it would happen too- didn¡¯t do much to stop ¡®em.¡±

    ¡°Then there was you.¡± I ground out. ¡°The Bloody Pit.¡±

    ¡°Aye. Sebastian called by. Told us what was coming. I told him I didn¡¯t work for free, and neither did my boys.¡± Jim¡¯s voice moved like a glacier, leveling the conversation before him. ¡°He asked if I¡¯d be interested in a wager instead. Forty thousand guilders. More than this pit is worth, on a born loser winning. I was going to think about it, but a certain kid jumped in and agreed on my behalf, didn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°Dad, you don¡¯t-¡± The Wolf tried to speak up.

    ¡°We don¡¯t fight for free, boy. That¡¯s the rules. Sebastian played by the rules. Even this kid and his dolls played by the rules. Only one here trying to break the rules is my boys, and not even all of them.¡± Jim reached down and picked up the eagle brother. ¡°Now, I know you will be back fresh as a daisy in just a few minutes, so let¡¯s not have any silliness.¡±

    I wish I didn¡¯t see what happened next. I wish I didn¡¯t know that humans could do that. Could survive that! Flesh, living flesh, still tied with nerves and blood vessels and wrapped in fat, pulled off the bone, scraped off with nails and rubbed into paste. I wish he didn¡¯t make us watch!

    He made all of us watch!

    ¡°Let that be a lesson to you all. You only get to break the rules when you make the rules. When your punch is heavy enough. And we don¡¯t make the rules here. Not yet. And none of you are even trying. Do better.¡± The big man shook his head.

    ¡°You wanted equipment, the things others left behind? Daphnae, clear out the lost and found in the coat room. Throw in the prize chest too, why not.¡± He looked at me, hand black with blood, grease and organ meat. ¡°The slip.¡±

    My hands shook when I passed it over. Nobody cared, least of all Jim.

    ¡°Right. We¡¯re square now. If I thought you had a fighter¡¯s soul, I might have taught you a little boxing. But you don¡¯t, so I won¡¯t. Figure your own way out. The way out of my bar is through that door right there.¡± He pointed. ¡°Scram.¡±

    We walked. Daphnae jogged out from behind the bar, holding a couple large sacks and a small wooden chest. ¡°If you see Madame, tell her I miss her.¡± Her lips barely moved as she spoke, pushing everything into my arms.

    ¡°We will.¡± I answered as we fled. Straight back to the Tower. It might not be safe there. It might not be homey. But after the horrors of the pit, I was desperately glad to be ¡°home.¡±

 Chapter 42- Worth it?

    I needed¡­ more than a minute to recover. I made my way to the Records Room, on the basis that it had a chair and a desk. I sat in the chair. I stared at the loot box and bags on the desk. And I didn¡¯t move for a long while.

    What the hell was that? What the actual Hell was that?!

    My hands shook. I tried to bury my face in them, but my face was shaking too. The barriers of dissociation had been crumbling for a while now, but this? This was too much. This was too real. Too immediate. Too much like growing up a weeb in a jock school, and your parents are doing their best but they can¡¯t be around much.

    I tried to breathe through it. Let the performative ¡°human¡± behavior calm me. I could lose myself in the illusion if I tried. I hoped, anyway. I was real. Versai was kind of real. The rest of the world was fake. If I could just¡­ hang on to that¡­ I could make it okay.

    What happened in the pit was scripted behavior. Characters playing out their backstories and responding to the triggers I had set through my adventure progression.

    Remember when F.E.A.R. came out and everyone was blown away by the ¡°A.I.¡± decades before that was a real thing? It wasn¡¯t A.I., it was smart level design and well scripted robots. That¡¯s all. The designers just made you think they were alive.

    This is some real fear right here. Good job devs. You got me. I¡¯m shook.

    I just waited. Hoping that sooner or later my subconscious would shake out all the bits. I could hear the music box playing through the door. I left it in the Throne Room for Versai. She played it less than I thought she would, but when she did start playing it, it would repeat over and over and over again. Dozens of times. I would have to pull her away to do¡­ whatever was the next thing.

    I looked at her figurine. Valkyrie was what I thought, but no, she was a genuine article warrior princess. Well, not genuine. A marquess was not a king. But close enough, right?

    Some morbid humor poked me and I dumped out the bags and the big chest on a heap on my desk. It was¡­ immense. And pathetic.

    It was trash.

    Oh, not literally, and not all of it. I netted enough resonance crystals to bring me up to eighty seven, total. That¡¯s a lot. I might have enough crystals for a new summons once I turn in some missions. But those crystals were the absolute best of it.

    Furniture orders. Fun. Might be something there. Resource packs. Great. We would have no shortage of trash tier resources in the near future. My workers could make some good stuff, I¡¯m sure. Maybe even some traps.

    Speaking of, there were some traps. No fire, nor tarpit, but appropriately, there were four pit traps. So. Something. Not what I wanted, but something.

    There were a bunch of bits and bobs that looked like quest items for quests I didn¡¯t have and storylines I didn¡¯t know about. A key. A bedknob. A large but apparently inedible green leaf. A few notes packed with cryptic and ominous text. Although one in particular was of interest. It came from the prize chest.

    Written in crude letters-

    ¡°It¡¯s done. I sent Griselda with the Circus as the ¡°Nurse.¡± She¡¯s as strong as my brothers, or near enough. She can hold him, they will hit him. Vengeance will be yours. Now run. You did more than your bit. Run now. Please. -Daph.¡±

    She must have known I would see the note. She was the one who delivered the box. Must have some idea that Sebastian and others were trapped in the same little loop that she was. Did other Tower Masters tell her? We were far, far from the first to have arrived, though I got the impression we were the first to have arrived having done the sub-sections in what I would consider the correct order and, most crucially, had Versai in the party.

    Could you clear this dungeon other ways? The two combat rooms, sure, though we wouldn¡¯t have gotten the inside story without talking to Sebastian, and it wasn¡¯t clear to me that his taking me hostage was something that happened to everyone. For example, if he had tried that neck stabbing maneuver on Rakim, I¡¯m not sure her health pool would have held up under the attack. Theoretically, he could have cleared an entire team solo, depending on composition and tactics.

    The Bloody Pit was, ironically, the story mission, despite being the most lethal. There were pretty clearly other routes through it that I didn¡¯t take, but¡­ I had a feeling we were the only ones who ever made it out alive.

    There were so many millinery orders, furniture orders, resource packs, and rune bones in front of me. My god, the Rune Bones. Hattie might be willing to see me now. Not that I was going to try her patience. But the other stores might actually have something worth buying.

    Worth checking the flyers in the throne room. Might just be something useful. It would be reasonable to expect the fifth wave to throw a new monster type or new mechanic into the mix. Or both.

    There was a card on the table with a bright brassy edge to it. It turned out to be a Made to Order receipt. Big whoop. I was about to toss it, when I recognized the face on it¡­ sort of. If Mika was twenty-five and pissed off about it, she might look like this.

    Gendua Territorial Defense Squad- NCO Promotion. Usable by any Member of the Gendua Territorial Defense Force who is part of a squad and has reached Level Cap.

    And¡­ that was it, apparently. It was enough. A unit promotion card. A GOD DAMN UNIT PROMOTION CARD!

    ¡°YES! HALLELUJAH AND HAIL THE GODDESS!¡±

    I dove on the filing cabinet and yanked out Mika¡¯s sheet-

    Mika

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    HP 200 points

    Attack 100 points

    Defense 5 points

    Block 20 points

    Speed 80 points

    ULTIMATE ABILITY UNLOCKED: Unit Effect- When four or more Mika¡¯s are deployed together, with none more than a pace apart from each other, they can activate their Shield Tower. Rate of fire vastly increases, Attack increases as does Block and Defense. Specifics scale with number of Mikas deployed as a unit. Can only be used once per wave, and after each activation the deployed Mikas will enter a Fainted state.

    Mika is a little worried she won¡¯t do a good job as part of the Gendua Defense Force, but she knows what the whistles and drums mean. She knows why Daddy¡¯s up in heaven, and why Mommy cries at night. She knows why her little brothers and sisters act scared or mean. She knows why Grandpa Guss stares out towards the mountains, and why Granny keeps saying that ¡°she ate before,¡± so she doesn¡¯t need a portion at dinner. Why Pop Pop and Grandma Tonka keep wearing their old uniforms and saying that even old fingers can pull a trigger.

    Mika knows. So she picks up her shield and carries her bow and will never, ever, back down!

    Likes cream pastries and bunnies. Dislikes cowards. Hates traitors. HATES TRAITORS. HATES TRAITORS. HATES TRAITORS. HATES TRAITORS.

    Part of the Gendua Defense Force. Requirements complete! Can form: Genuda Defense Force- Crossbow Squad.

    I swear the line about hating traitors almost vibrated off the sheet. I manfully ignored it.

    There was a scattered heap of Stone Tapes on the table. I grabbed ¡®em, and bolted from the room. I was down at the clothing shop so fast, I must have looked like I teleported.

    I slammed the order card on the table and glared at the colorful clerk.

    ¡°Bring it.¡±

    ¡°For whom?¡± She asked, her voice annoyingly chirpy.

    ¡°Mika.¡±

    ¡°Oh how nice. It¡¯s her picture on the card they used, so-¡±

    ¡°Less talky more fetchy. Hop to it.¡±

    She did. As soon as I was out of the shop- ¡°MIKA ALPHA, FRONT AND CENTER!¡±

    There was a sudden clatter, as though an enormous shield had been dropped by a startled summons, then a scraping noise, and trotting sounds as someone, impossible to guess who, started jogging up the stairs.

    ¡°Mika is here, you have nothing to fear?¡±

    ¡°You know, you have been the cornerstone of my defensive strategy from Day One. I have way more of you than any other type, but¡­ fair to say I have built around the Mikas. So it is fitting that you get the first upgrade.¡±

    I handed over the stone tapes until she refused to take any more. I was going to guess¡­ Level Twenty. I¡¯d check later. I handed her the card with the uniform in it. She snapped it, and there was a burst of white light. Bright- blindingly bright, it covered her entirely! When I finally regained the ability to see, Mika had transformed. There was a glowing box in front of me-

    Gendua Defense Force Squad- minimum six members, one of whom must be promoted to NCO rank. Autofill?

    I clicked yes. It was full of Mikas. No surprise there.

    Confirm Gendua Defense Force- Crossbow Squad creation?

    I clicked yes, again. There was a much smaller flash, and I could finally take a good look at the transformed Mika.

    She had filed out some, swapping the turtle neck for something more functionally military. Collared shirt, in an olive drab. Not sure about the combat utility of leaving the top three buttons unbuttoned, but then, I never served. Worked for her, though. I swear I could see a hint of a tattoo peeking out from the bottom of her rolled sleeves.

    Mika¡¯s skirt stayed, naturally, tightly stretched by well developed glutes. Completing the glow-up, her boots had been swapped for combat boots. The combat boots, as convention demanded, had a respectable heel on them. I, personally, wouldn¡¯t want to run in them, but then, Mika wasn¡¯t one for running.

    Despite the added ¡°flavor¡± in the costume and the improved ¡°plot,¡± I couldn¡¯t move past her eyes. No. Mika wasn¡¯t one for running, and another seven years in the trenches hadn¡¯t changed that one bit.

    There was something there I couldn¡¯t quite put words to. Something that said you couldn¡¯t hurt them, but they could sure hurt you. Not cruel, but¡­ hard. This was a Mika that understood she would live a bloody life, and made her peace with it. She wasn¡¯t scared anymore. She had overcome her clumsiness. Steady. The violent solution to the monster problem. Or the problem-people problem.

    I remembered the line about hating traitors and cowards. I suddenly wondered if Mika had led a firing squad.

    ¡°Mika¡¯s here. You have nothing to fear.¡± It wasn¡¯t an exclamation this time. It was a declaration.

    ¡°Mika, report. What improvements do you have now that you have been promoted?¡± Old Mika couldn¡¯t answer that. Could new Mika?

    ¡°Reporting to the Tower Master- Having been promoted to Corporal, I can now lead my Crossbow Squad. The squad is in every way more capable than an individual soldier. We fire faster, more accurately, at longer range, and with more penetrative power in our bolt. Our Shield Tower can be triggered once every five minutes instead of once per battle. It is also considerably more effective, and our weakened period after using it is sixty seconds.¡±

    God, new Mika was just the hottest thing on two legs. Just¡­ intensely attractive on that haunted golem level we were sharing.

    ¡°We also have improved armor and health, but I have always felt that if a crossbow unit is in melee, someone has BADLY screwed up. Sir.¡±

    Good point well made. Very well made.

    ¡°Mika¡­ Corporal Mika, how many stars are you rated?¡±

    ¡°One, Tower Master.¡± She grinned, not a comfortable look. There was something uncomfortably knowing in her eyes. ¡°But I¡¯m an NCO. I¡¯m a hell of a lot more on the ball than the rest of the enlisted. Been kicked around long enough to know how to kick other people into the right places, doing the right things. Just generally a lot more capable.¡±

    ¡°Would you say¡­ six times more capable than a Private level Mika?¡±

    ¡°Not in terms of combat capability. Honestly Sir, I¡¯m more capable but not that much more capable. But in terms of leadership? Ability to understand the situation, communicate, even take local command if necessary? Oh yeah. I can do that.¡±

    Interesting. On many levels, but the word ¡°leadership¡± stood out like a long nail. Versai never gave orders. She took pains to not provide anything remotely like leadership. Interesting, interesting! The squad leaders weren¡¯t hero units- they were exactly what it said on the label. Squad leaders.

    It occurred to me that I still had a big pile of loot to sort through. Still had three orders to use building defenses. Traps to set. Whatever Rache had managed to recover from that pond.

    Now, it was a mortal certainty that the Fifth wave was going to throw some absolute nonsense, some completely unfair, unbaked, unbalanced ¡°cinematic¡± garbage straight at us.

    I could hardly wait.

 Chapter 43- Oh Yes. YES!

    I dove back into the loot pile. I briefly debated- was it time to rub my hands together and chuckle? I think so. The rubbing went fine, but the chuckle?

    ¡°Ohohohohohohoho!¡±

    The chuckle needed work. I was going to have to workshop that chuckle a bit. No matter- the loot awaited.

    Ah, the difference time and perspective made. Resource packs, yes, a good stack of them but, more importantly, there were a few that had bronze tinges to their edges. Could these be at least common tier materials? Because we were already doing a lot with trash. I couldn¡¯t wait to see what my workers could do with better stuff.

    Then the furniture orders. Hadn¡¯t I been complaining about a lack of furniture? Well I¡¯d have five new pieces as soon as I ran back down to the Commerce Department. That was a big quality of life improvement.

    The costumes- I reviewed them again and nothing popped out. Ah well. Still. One promotion order was already huge. A game changer!

    I pushed the quest-items to one side. I had no idea what they were for, for now. Instead, I focused on the runed bones. I had largely been ignoring them as they were the cheapest, most basic game currency.

    Right now, I had identified four currencies in the game- the summoning crystals (Resonance and Iridescent Clarion) Runed Bones and Frozen Diamonds. Runed Bones were the most ordinary currency, and most worthless. You needed a mountain of them to buy mediocre stuff. But it was farmable. Kill monsters, get rune bones. Easy-peasy. Frozen Diamonds?

    There wasn¡¯t a single Frozen Diamond in the sacks of loot left by the killed Tower Masters. Either they hadn¡¯t gotten any or, my personal suspicion, they had already spent it. If there was a way to farm for it, I hadn¡¯t figured it out yet. Frozen Diamonds were precious, and were the currency of choice for higher quality goods.

    I let my pouch do the counting. I had 5,453 runed bones, and two frozen Diamonds. I hated to do it, but it might be time to hit the shops attached to the fliers in the Throne Room.

    Just because I didn¡¯t loot a tar pit trap didn¡¯t mean it was completely unavailable.  At least there was hope. I could feel a smile tugging my lips up. I had never been rich enough to be domineering back on earth. Maybe I could act like a tycoon now?

    I strode into the empty Throne Room, and immediately frowned. This room¡­ more than furniture, it needed repairs. All the windows in the towers were still missing. The floors were missing stones in places. It certainly wasn¡¯t what anyone would call ¡°level¡±. The lack of a throne was just the disgusting Maraschino cherry on the misery sundae.

    A throne room is a room with a throne. A room without a throne is just a room. A throne without a room is a toilet in the forest.

    Having demolished the devs with facts and logic, I examined the shops connected to the notice board. And immediately felt like the Devs were having their revenge. Most of the damn flyers were for the shops in the Commerce Department! There was the Gnome Market, so that was¡­ something¡­ and there were still a surprising number of blurred out entries.

    I tapped on the Gnome Market.

    ¡°He he he HELLOoooo! Welcome to the Gnome Market! Special prices for special customers. See what we have on offer today!¡±

    And just like that, it was awkward. Again.

    The scene took me straight back. She was still a pretty little gnome-mannequin, still had that gnome artificer drip, still had the wall of wooden, box-like shelves behind her. It reminded me of something¡­

    I stared at it. I had seen it before. A lot. Did¡­ I own shelves like that? Surely not.

    After a few seconds, I buried my face in my hands and took deep breaths. Kallax. It was a goddamn Ikea Kallax bookshelf, scaled up to cover a whole wall, and made out of some pale blonde wood instead of laminated plywood. Once I punched the devs a few thousand times, I¡¯d call Ikea¡¯s general counsel¡¯s office, report this whole shenanigan.

    Then call Nintendo, and say they had hidden art of Link doing very non-canonical things with Mario in the game. A complete violation of their copyright. I¡¯m sure Nintendo would be very respectful of fan-created content.

    ¡°What do you have in stock?¡±

    ¡°Here- our list!¡±

    Oh¡­ interesting. Very interesting indeed. The first thing to snag my eye was resonance crystals. A thousand rune bones for five, and there was a fifteen -crystal limit. ¡°Hey, the limited quantity goods- how often does that refresh?¡±

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Our stock is unpredictable!¡±

    Something to remember, but I should see about those missions first. Still, the fact that they were available for purchase at all was pretty important to know. What else¡­ Millinery Orders, Cutthroat Clothier Receipts¡­ wait, weren''t the clothiers downstairs called ¡°Made To Order? Who were Cutthroat Clothiers? I shook it off. Must not have unlocked them yet.

    Arguably the most interesting thing was an upgrade token for ¡°Hunters of Crooked Moon Mountain¡±- a group I had yet to encounter. The number of zeros in the price tag was practically a joke. There was something else going on there. Good to know you could buy that kind of thing in a store, but not needed, or possible, now.

    As I got lower on the shelves, the items got progressively more interesting. The Automated logger (Cuts down trees automatically, for up to fifty trees! Only five hundred Runed Bones!) definitely had its place, as did the Ditchomatic-Jr. (Digs a straight three Glemphts by fifty Glemphts ditch to a depth of up to two Glemphts!)

    ¡°How deep is a Glempht?¡± I asked. The gnome just blinked in reply.

    At least it¡¯s not something weird like meters. Alright, remembering that. What else?

    Mutilator 3k! Launches three buzz saw blades at high speed and higher rotations per second in a narrow cone in the direction the arrow is pointing on the case. Can fire every five seconds if triggered continuously. Good for One Wave. Two thousand Runed Bones.

    There was a 6k and 9k version too, but there were too many zeroes in the price tag for them to be seriously considered. I was already happy enough.

    I carefully read through the rest of the items. Stone Tapes were cheap, mercifully, and had a five thousand item cap on them. Which said unpleasant things about how many of them I would need to level my higher star units. There were a few other utility things, but nothing that really grabbed my attention.

    I checked the missions. The rewards had already been collected. I blinked, and checked again. Collected.

    But¡­ that wasn¡¯t possible. I was the only one who could collect the rewards right? I looked again. Defeat the fourth wave- done. Yes, right I¡­

    I sat down with a thump. Time. It was still the fifth day. I had sent Rache off on her mission, collected the rewards, then went to the ruin site. It was¡­ still the fifth day. It might feel like hours or days since I went into the ruin site, but it had only been¡­ One. All that time spent staring at my desk, trying to feel human again? That had been no time at all.

    The chronological madness of this world was starting to catch up with me. I was losing track of time. Of what had been done and what hadn¡¯t. I probably shouldn¡¯t beat myself up about it. Perfectly normal to let a detail slip, what with everything.

    Gut check time- did I want to be one of those angsty, stare at the sky and moan about the unfairness of it all, protag-kuns? Or did I want to be the sort who embraced the madness, determined to carve his way through the world with a devil-may-care smile?

    The latter, obviously. Not that I knew how. But since I had unlimited time to learn, it was time to wring every benefit I could from the Dev¡¯s crappy design.

    Deep breath. I can spend bones here, or at the armory downstairs. So what I am really choosing is, do I upgrade base stats for my existing characters via trash-tier equipment, or do I go for level ups/traps/summons?

    The armory equipment currently gave crappy, single digit improvements to single stats. Level-ups got me more bang per bone. Easy choice there. BUT. I had eighty seven Resonance Crystals, and could buy up to three sets of five crystals from the store at a thousand Bones a set.

    Get the Mutilator 3k and the three-pack, and I got a damage dealing trap and a new summons. Trade off- I couldn¡¯t buy anything else that would have a major impact. One or two stone tapes wasn¡¯t going to do it.

    I went back and forth on it, but opted for the trap and the summons. Wave Five. A number divisible by five was like catnip to developers. They can¡¯t help themselves. They see a 5 or a 0 at the one¡¯s place and they lose their minds.

    Boss monster, for sure. Or a field effect. I could see them slapping some wide scale field debuff. An incremental improvement in the troops wasn¡¯t going to cut it. I¡¯d buff them on Wave Six. Now I needed something fresh.

    I looked at the crystals, but before I summoned, I wanted to find out what was in the pond.

    ¡°Rache!¡± I yelled down the stairs. ¡°What did you find at the pond?¡±

    ¡°Fairies, Tower Master!¡±

    I had to blink at that one. ¡°You found fairies? Come up and report.¡±

    She trotted up. ¡°Well Boss, we found fairies around the pond. Nothing to harvest, just fairies. They said that they would trade berries for Runed Bones, though. Gave us a sample. Have to do an expedition to the pond to get more, they said.¡±

    Rache handed over a small sack of berries. I held one up. Buwilp Berry. Only Fairies know how to cultivate this delicious aquatic berry, and they never teach outsiders. Delicious in parfait, it is best used in combat. Speed +40 for one Wave, Least Blessing of the Fairies.

    Least Blessing of the Fairies- While in a forest environment, gain a +2% miss chance against enemy attacks.

    There were five berries in the sack, naturally.

    ¡°Merchants. You found merchants.¡±

    ¡°Boss?¡± She scratched her haid. I smiled anyway. It wasn¡¯t amazing. Not what I would prefer. But it was something. It would let Versai get in and out faster. Would it let Rache do more damage? We¡¯d find out soon enough.

    Now, it was time to do something that was long past due. I looked over at Versai, still mindlessly cranking the music box and watching the dancer spin around. ¡°Versai. I need you here, please.¡±

    She looked grumpy, but she did come over. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°We saw Sebastian manipulating the rules of this world-¡± aka working a possible exploit, ¡°and we saw Jim flat out pushing them to the point of breaking. So what you and I are going to do is sit right here on the floor and come up with our own ideas. Our own game breaking strats. We have, literally, all the time in the world to do it. So before the Fifth Wave, let¡¯s figure out how we crack this sucker wide open.¡±

 Chapter 44- Cheese and Whine

    ¡°Breaking the rules of the world? I¡¯m sure that¡¯s not a thing.¡± Versai shook her head, even as she sat down next to me.

    I rolled my eyes at her. ¡°So what would you call what Sebastian and Jim were doing?¡±

    She thought about that for a moment. ¡°Taking advantage of a hitherto unknown feature of how the world worked?¡±

    ¡°Ah, it¡¯s not cheating, it¡¯s just using the entire rulebook. Spoken like a true Patriots fan.¡± I grumbled. Not that I knew the first thing about football, but you live in the City, you hear things.

    ¡°Tower Master?¡± I waved her off.

    ¡°Let¡¯s play a little game. It¡¯s called ¡®I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡¯ The way we play is simple. I ask a question with a yes or no answer. If you can, answer it yes or no as appropriate. If you don¡¯t want to talk about it, say ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± Clear so far?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master. Though I don¡¯t see the point.¡±

    ¡°There is an extra rule coming. Let¡¯s start, and you will see why I just love playing games.¡±

    I coughed. ¡°Your name is Versai?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Your Name is Versai ferch Gradden?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ yes.¡±  She looked a little surprised, as did I.

    ¡°Oh interesting. It looks like whatever is running things realizes that information no longer makes sense to keep gated. That¡¯s both useful¡­ and alarming.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± She asked, looking pretty alarmed.

    ¡°More adaptive means harder to break, and it¡¯s more likely that our exploit gets stopped. Possibly violently.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°You are the daughter of the Marquess of Gradden March?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Huh. I had thought that would trigger it. Wait¡­ wasn''t that in her character bio? Alright, let¡¯s push a little harder.

    ¡°Your father was a successful general in the war against the monsters?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±  She looked firm, then surprised. Then a little horrified.

    ¡°Yep. Starting to see it?¡±

    ¡°Tower Master, I¡­¡±

    ¡°You experienced it before, but I bet you ¡®forgot¡¯ about it. One of those rules of the world. For example, you still don¡¯t care to get too emotionally attached to me.¡±

    ¡°No. No disrespect, but you all tend to die on me.¡±

    ¡°Really? With everything? I¡¯ve taken you to the fifth day, shown you more things than any other Tower Master, brought you back to that¡­ parody cutout version of Gradden Marche, and you still feel nothing for me?¡±

    I tried not to let on how much that hurt. Reminding myself that it wasn¡¯t her fault, it was the programming. Even though I could still feel her fingers wrapped around my throat and I¡¯d never forget the icy contempt in her eyes. I tried to remember it was just¡­ what they made her. That it wasn¡¯t really her.

    It still hurt. Deep breath. Stiff upper lip. Devil-may-care, not some whiney Protag-Kun.

    ¡°No, of course I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±  She concluded firmly. The look of horror on her face got wider.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be a jerk, Versai. This is all to show why we need the final rule. When you want to say ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it,¡± you can choose your inflection and pacing. You don¡¯t say it identically every time.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Nope. If you don¡¯t want to talk about it, but if you did want to talk about it the answer would be yes, say, ¡°I don¡¯t WANT to talk about it. And if the answer would be no, say ¡°I DON¡¯T want to talk about it.¡± I was careful to really hammer down which words got the emphasis.

    ¡°I¡­ understand, but I don¡¯t know if it will work.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s find out. Your father was a successful general in the war on the Monsters?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t WANT to talk about it.¡±  Her eyes lit up with joy. We shared a villainous grin.

    At which point my brain locked up, because of course it did. I¡­ definitely had questions for Versai, didn¡¯t I? Like¡­ something. Move on to other topics, I¡¯m sure something will come up as we chat.

    ¡°Alright, now, without stopping playing the game, let''s talk exploits. First, and maybe this should have been the most obvious but, can I process wood myself?¡±

    ¡°Err¡­ I don¡¯t know? Do you even have tools?¡±

    ¡°Could I not use one of the Judith¡¯s saws or axes or something?¡±

    ¡°I doubt it. Weapon, remember? You can only use the ones labeled for your use. I didn¡¯t even know those existed until a couple of days ago.¡±

    Okay¡­ ¡°Well what if they make the components and I assemble the final product?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know? Like what?¡±

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know either, I¡¯m spitballing here. Like, caltrops. Bent bits of metal, basically. Can I take metal from the resource packs and bend it into caltrops?¡±

    ¡°Maybe with the right tools? I¡¯ve never seen someone try.¡±

    I thought about it a moment longer. ¡°Let''s test.¡± I jogged outside and grabbed a couple of broken bits of wood from around the base of the tower. We had a fairly enormous pile of broken bits of wood stacked up there, waiting to find a use.

    ¡°Alright. Today¡¯s test- Can I Make Stuff? Test number one- pointy sticks.¡±

    I pulled out the knife and looked dubiously at the blade. Seven very pointy, practically triangular inches long, it was by no means a whittling knife. Since it was double sided, I had to be very careful where I put my fingers. Yep. This was going to work. Nothing but good vibes here.

    ¡°Pammy, come on up here for a minute!¡±

    Health and safety is everyone¡¯s responsibility, after all, and I have to set a good example. Once everyone was in place, I carefully drew the knife along the twig.

    It was fine. I mean, I carved a long sliver off of it, but since that¡¯s what I wanted to do, it was fine. I breathed a sigh of relief and did it a second time on the other side.

    ¡°Oh, now that¡¯s-¡± The twig seemed to vibrate subtly in my hand, then it kind of exploded? But in the way a dandelion explodes when you blow on it. It puffed out into sludgy dust and scrap.

    It literally transformed into trash.

    I shared a look with Versai.

    ¡°Think it might be a two cut limit?¡±

    ¡°No¡± She shook her head.

    ¡°Me either.¡±  I scored a twig twice with the knife. Nothing. I carved a notch between the two marks- trash. Make shavings? Trash, including the shavings. Tried making a pointy stick from an already broken bit of wood? Trash.

    I asked Versai to try, and she flat out refused. Like, clearly not capable of saying yes.

    ¡°I can¡¯t work inside the Tower. That¡¯s not an order I can follow.¡± She crossed her arms and looked away. I forced myself to calm down, and tried to give her enough time to reset.

    ¡°We are testing different possible exploits, right?¡±

    ¡°Right.¡±

    ¡°And you support this effort, right?¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± She nodded.

    ¡°So if I were to leave this twig here and walk around the corner loudly saying ¡®Boy I sure hope nobody picks up this twig and carves a point into it-¡¯¡±

    I looked at her hopefully. Possibly even with puppy dog eyes.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you are looking at me like that. Please stop, it¡¯s kind of creepy.¡±

    ¡°Would you do anything to this stick right here, if I were to abandon it here?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Not even tidy it up? Maybe lean it aesthetically against a hole in the wall where we are definitely supposed to have windows?¡±

    ¡°Do I look like a maid? Or an¡­ aesthetic window person?¡±

    ¡°I mean, you do definitely seem like someone who grew up with fancy windows, currently has fancy windows, and fully expects to have even fancier windows in the future, yeah.¡± I spread my hands helplessly.

    She hesitated. ¡°Define fancy.¡±

    ¡°I think you just proved my point. Alright, I know a hard block when I see one.¡± I thought a moment, toying with the knife. Then I looked speculatively at Versai.

    ¡°You said you could probably teach me knife fighting, but didn¡¯t feel like it at the time. Still don¡¯t feel like it?¡±

    She shook her head slowly, this time with a more questioning look on her face.

    ¡°In the same way that you wouldn¡¯t mind telling me some things, but you don¡¯t want to tell me some things?¡±

    She nodded at that.

    ¡°Well. How would you feel about practicing some basic knife drills? Not for me, just to make sure you haven¡¯t lost your touch. Just pure self satisfaction.¡±

    She slowly picked up a stick and looked at me wonderingly.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t going to go the way you think. Knife fighting isn¡¯t like fencing. At all. Actually, I¡¯m not sure what you imagine fencing is like, but I¡¯d stake my eyes you never fought with a sword on the battlefield.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°True. Until I met you, I never saw a sword swung to kill. I¡¯ve seen a staggering amount of sword¡­ entertainments, I guess? So I know some of the lingo.¡±

    ¡°Please, if you value your life and the lives counting on you, forget all of that. Immediately. Completely.¡±

    Fair enough. ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡±

    ¡°Do better. Succeed. Because, and I really, really, need you to believe this, knife fighting Is. Not. Fencing. At all. In any way shape or form. Do not let the fact that a dagger looks a bit like a sword fool you. They are- what now?¡±

    ¡°Not the same.¡±

    ¡°Corect.¡± Versai raised the stick to a little above her waist, then crouched a bit. ¡°First thing I learned, and I guess the first big difference from swordplay, is that there is no correct stance.¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡± I was going to ask more but she was on me. She bull rushed me, smashed me over, all while stabbing me under the armpit, in the ribs, in the neck!

    ¡°OW! Jesus, Versai!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m practicing my knife drills. This isn¡¯t for your benefit. If you happen to learn from it, good for you.¡±  She had a defiant look in her eyes. Was this her first tiny act of rebellion against the systems of the world?

    ¡°Also, if you call me a Jesus again, I will practice my joint locks and groin attacks too.¡±

    ¡°Ah, okay! Noted! But it¡¯s not actually an insult, more a generalized exclamation.¡±

    ¡°Oh? What does it mean?¡± She asked, with intense suspicion.

    ¡°Josh.¡±

    That got a slow blink.

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°It means Joshua in a foreign language. So, you know. Josh.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ wherever you come from¡­ yell about some guy named Josh.¡±

    I briefly considered explaining six thousand years of religious history. History I do not, on reflection, know.

    ¡°Yep. We have a whole thing about it. Debates rage about whether there was a historical Josh, but at this point, he is firmly embedded in the language.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± She violently shook her head, and refocused. ¡°Having now answered all possible questions about that, I¡¯m going to practice the most basic drill. Just¡­ get your arms up and tuck your elbows in, close to your body. Yeah, good enough.¡±

    I turtled up, feeling a bit like a boxer.

    ¡°So this is the next thing I learned, which is if you are unarmed and facing someone with a knife, run away. Failing that, get a weapon, or make one. Just, whatever you do, don¡¯t try to go at them unarmed.¡±

    ¡°Oh? I¡¯ve seen plenty of-¡±

    She was in her slightly crouched stance, right hand holding the stick and raised across her body to roughly her left shoulder. I didn¡¯t see it whip out, but a second later, the back of my arms stung like crazy. Then she cut back in the other direction, and now there was a burning X across my forearms.

    Back and forth, back and forth. I tried to keep my arms up, to catch the shots, but they slipped through, whipping in and slashing at my cheeks and ears. It was agonizing, and I have no shame in admitting, I shrieked.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the normal response. Scream more, I don¡¯t care. It¡¯s normal.¡± Her hands didn¡¯t slow down at all.

    ¡°Scream as loud as you can, as much as you can. Just so long as you remember knife fighting fact number two- with knives, there is no such thing as defense!¡±

 Chapter 45- Not Going to Quit!

    ¡°Wait- Wait just a moment!¡± I held my hand up.

    ¡°My training dummy is quitting already?¡± Versai¡¯s voice was deceptively calm.

    ¡°No, I just need to get my head right.¡± I breathed slowly, in and out. This wasn¡¯t damaging me. Even if it was, Pammy is right here to heal me. Even if I don¡¯t pick up anything in terms of knife fighting, it¡¯s worth it to teach my body that it can endure pain.

    I had spent my entire life avoiding pain of all sorts. Time to toughen up. I don¡¯t have stats¡­ or at least I can¡¯t see my stats¡­ but one way or another, it was time to grind pain resistance. It wasn¡¯t doing me any real damage. Nobody was trying to be mean. Toughening up was absolutely necessary to survive.

    Besides, if you only have one weapon, you damn well learn how to use it. No whiney ¡°It¡¯s Not Fair!¡± protag-kun. Time to be the American the Japanese think you are. I squared up and nodded at her. ¡°Bring it.¡±

    She made me scream again. I held out longer for this time. Then I reset. We repeated that¡­ I think half a dozen more times. It felt like we had been practicing a long time, but that was the point of training in the Tower- time wasn¡¯t passing.

    ¡°It occurs to me that you are probably a better swordswoman now than you were in the Queen¡¯s guard.¡± I said during a break.

    ¡°I don¡¯t WANT to talk about it.¡±

    Inflection on the ¡°want¡± meant yes. I grunted, nibbling on the edge of an idea.

    ¡°A lot better?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t WANT to talk about it.¡±

    Though she sounded a bit iffy on that. Hmm. How to probe deeper?

    ¡°That is because you haven¡¯t pushed yourself to improve.¡±

    ¡°I DON¡¯T want to talk about it.¡± So that wasn¡¯t it.

    ¡°Hard to practice your sword and shield play against clawed monsters.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t WANT to talk about it.¡± Though this time she kind of looked like she wanted to wiggle her hand a bit.

    I picked at it some more, but at the end of the day, I was a weeb. Anime was plainly not a reliable source for accurate fighting advice, and really, with a very few honorable mentions, sword and shield mains were just not a popular trope. Swords- sure. Too many to count. Shields? Just the one guy with his¡­ questionable commitment to consent. And the age of consent.

    Moving along.

    Ah, Vinland Saga, some of them, some of the time. What else? Oh hell, I know there is more than that. Sophia in Soul Calibur? Gonna go ahead and say Versai would unscrew my head if she ever saw that art. Sophia was definitely designed for aesthetics.

    And where you have attractive women in games, you have special moves for them. Versai¡­ had never shown me her Ult.

    ¡°Hey, Versai? Sometimes, in the heat of battle, have you ever felt like there was a power welling up inside of you, and you managed to do something you would never have imagined was possible?¡±

    She gave me a thousand yard stare. Things got very chilly. I hurriedly waved my hands. ¡°I mean like what happened with the Mikas when a bunch of them were grouped together! A special effect, or special attack or something.¡±

    ¡°Oh. No.¡±

    Still a lot of chill in the air there. Frost forming on my eyelashes level of chill. Better explain more!

    ¡°My thinking is, a lot of what I think you are actually capable of is gated behind systems that you haven¡¯t actually encountered yet. Like the rooms in the Tower- you have to clear so many waves to get access to them.¡±

    I tried to force a smile and continue, but¡­ I had used up all my social confidence. Versai was freezing me out. I had screwed up. I sighed and stood up. She didn¡¯t. Why would she? I hadn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t, order her to keep going.

    I sighed again and walked to the records room. There was enough room there to swing a stick. I¡¯d practice on my shadow what she had practiced on me. Eventually, either she or I would feel better.

    I bent my knees slightly, and brought the knife up across my body to my left shoulder. Then I whipped it across, and repeated in the other direction. Back and forth, back and forth. Not really putting much weight into it, I noticed, nor muscle. It was a pure speed move.

    I wedged a stick between the desk and the chair, and whipped the dagger at it, using the motions Versai had literally beaten into me. I knocked the stick out of place and onto the floor. When I looked at it, the cut was only part way through. After my experiments earlier, I knew that the knife could slice through the stick almost effortlessly. So what was going on there?

    I quickly needed a new stick. I could hear the music box playing again, so I gambled on a quick dash out of the Tower. I might not be able to move far from it, but after four waves, we had nothing but small sticks lying around. I could have all the test pieces I wanted.

    I saw my workers and troops idling around. I firmly ignored them. Not like we were losing time, and I had a feeling I was on to something important here.

    I kept at it. I didn¡¯t get tired. I did get bored, but I tried to fixate. Tried to push through it. I discovered an amazing thing. It turns out, that once you reach a certain level of boredom, like, the walls are closing in and you swear you hear whispers coming from the shadows levels of bored- you break through. A cool feeling washes over your brain, and it¡¯s like you were never bored in the first place! Refreshed, I would keep right on swinging, until the cycle repeated again.

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    Don¡¯t know why it never worked that way in school. Maybe I just hadn¡¯t been bored enough.

    The room looked decently mulched before I figured out where I was screwing up. The edge. The edge had to be held exactly in line with the direction of the swing. If it was tilted out of line, it would stick or even bounce off the branch. The secret to a good cut was edge alignment.

    The much was nearly ankle deep before I felt like I was making those cuts reliably. I have no idea how many thousands of times I swung my arm. Cutting was easier than thinking, and my doll body didn¡¯t get tired. It became almost addictive. That cool wave of refreshment just hits so, so good.

    I¡¯ve heard it called a flow state. I think fugue state would be more accurate. I dissolved myself into the endless, almost effortless, motion. Livened with the occasional all natural high.

    I set myself a small goal- one thousand perfect cuts, forehand and backhand. Naturally, the count reset if there was a miscut!

    I found a game I could lose myself in. The cutting game. Like fruit ninja, but IRL. Kind of. You know what I mean. It was amazing to just¡­ feel my body move. To feel myself incrementally getting better at something. For that fugue state to be something good and virtuous.

    There was a word I had to look up- anhedonia. It came up when I tried one of those scammy online therapy outfits. They tried to say that I wasn¡¯t really enjoying the anime and the games, I was retreating from the world. Distracting myself from the fact that I no longer took pleasure in life activities.

    Sorta fit, sorta didn¡¯t. Well¡­ I was definitely hiding from an awkward social situation, and I was definitely losing myself in a mindless repetitive activity, but you know what? It¡¯s fun. Getting better and better at something is really fun!

    A thousand cuts each way. Next would be stabbing. I picked a piece of wood with a knot in it and declared that it would be my new target. I just propped it up against a wall. No need to get creative. Crouch slightly, blade extended slightly in front of my body and¡­ stab.

    Eventually I changed to the classic downward stab. Hammer grip, icepick grip, call it what you want, I was stabbing basically straight up and down (or a slight angle, I¡¯m not obsessive,) and repeated the stabbing process until perfection was achieved.

    God it was satisfying. I was pulled from my fun when there was a knock on the door. This was unprecedented, and I was violently yanked from my happy place.

    ¡°I¡¯m not home!¡±

    A half second later, my brain caught up with my mouth and I groaned.

    ¡°Versai, that you?¡± I yelled through the door.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    I was going to invite her in, but I remembered she said she couldn¡¯t come to the Records Hall. ¡°One sec. Oh Hell!¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Does the Tower have a self cleaning function? Or, a broom closet or something?¡±

    ¡°Not that I ever noticed, but I can¡¯t say I ever saw the Tower get dirty. Why?¡±

    I waded to the door and pushed it open.

    Oh, that¡¯s nice. Now I know what ¡°gobsmacked¡± looked like.

    ¡°Tower Master¡­ just what happened here?¡±

    ¡°I practiced what you showed me.¡± I smiled. I was feeling much better. Odd, but I was. Well, I guess a lot of time has passed? In a manner of speaking?

    ¡°What, the slashing drill? And I guess¡­ stabbing things?¡± She looked dubious.

    ¡°Yep!¡±

    ¡°It looks like a sawmill¡¯s waste pile in here!¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± I couldn¡¯t keep the smile down.

    She shook her head in bewilderment. ¡°Alright, what am I not understanding?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not trash.¡±

    That got me a confused look.

    ¡°I cut it and stabbed it and even stomped it on occasion and it broke down into basically glorified mulch. But it¡¯s not trash.¡±

    ¡°Matter of opinion, I guess?¡±

    I shook my head. ¡°No, it isn¡¯t. Watch.¡±

    I picked up a pointy stick and tried to cut a point into it. The stick did its usual party trick of exploding into rot dust. I pointed at a stick by her feet. Versai picked it up. There was a fine point on it.

    ¡°There is a system in place that limits what we can think and do. It¡¯s not stupid. It¡¯s had a lot of tweaks over the years. But it¡¯s not perfect. There are all kinds of angles you can find on it. You just have to be a bit unreasonable about things. Creative, and unreasonable. Things like- ¡®You have no meaningful skill cap when you can grind something eternally.¡¯

    ¡°Skill cap?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. For example, there is nothing stopping you from practicing your sword swings forty thousand times in a row. You don¡¯t get tired. You could have Mika just block with her shield as Pammy and Maria alternated healing her while you rained down cuts.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ¡°I could. Not sure what the benefit would be, though. My skills have been I don¡¯t WANT to talk about it.¡±

    ¡°No? Think about what Jim was doing in the basement. Was Sebastian always that good at being invisible? I bet he wasn¡¯t. They found an edge to push, and practiced, practiced, practiced. Except their practice time is comparatively limited. They only have the time someone survives in their little dungeons to train themselves. We have UNLIMITED time.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ see where you are going with this, I think.¡±

    ¡°Well, you might be missing one useful advantage.¡± I pointed at the woodchips. ¡°You see lumber yard waste. You know what I see?¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°Accelerant. I see a huge fire, just waiting to happen. At the moment, I don¡¯t have a way to create a spark. Don¡¯t have a way to start fires. But I bet you we could figure one out. Bet you that Rakim could make a spark-thrower, or even just leave a chunk of iron with a sharp edge lying around. Somewhere near a bit of flint or equally hard stone.¡±

    ¡°And you lost me again. I¡¯m getting that you want a fire trap, but I don¡¯t see how this is something so special. Lots of people have made their own traps over the years, and they were never as good as the looted ones.¡±

    ¡°No, no, that is not the point, the trap isn¡¯t the point. I made a usable resource in the Tower! Don¡¯t you see? The prohibition isn¡¯t absolute. It won¡¯t let me make a useful product, but it doesn¡¯t care about the byproducts of approved activities. And I¡¯m allowed to slice and stab wood with my knife to practice.¡±

    I was speaking a mile a minute.

    ¡°We can figure ways around it. This is the proverbial thin end of the wedge. I have finally started finding the edges of the System running this place.¡±

    I started waving my arms, trying to get her as excited as I was.

    ¡°We are going to dig into this, and once we think we have pushed it as far as we can, we trigger the Fifth Wave. I will bet you whatever you like that a whole bunch of new things become available on the sixth day. Which gives us more things to exploit. More options. So when we go back to Gradden March and finish that relic site, we can be as safe and powerful as possible. Then on to the next thing, rinse and repeat.¡±

    I took a deep breath. ¡°This is it, Versai. This is the point where we start breaking the game.¡±

 Chapter 46- Preparation or Procrastination

    My ¡°Master the art of knife fighting¡± strat ran into an immediate snag.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡± Versai shook her head helplessly.

    ¡°You DON¡¯T want to or you don¡¯t WANT to?¡± I asked, hopefully.

    ¡°Both? Either? I get what you are asking, but I really, really don¡¯t want to teach you how to fight with a knife. Like¡­ in the sense that you would ever use it, really teach you. On any level.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s literally my only means of attack or self defense.¡±

    She shook her head violently. ¡°Your means of attack and defense are the summons, myself included. WE are your sword and shield. Before I was just testing how much the Tower would let me get away with. I didn¡¯t think you would actually learn anything. That knife is a holdout weapon, a last ditch weapon used only in the most desperate circumstances, or for assassination.¡±

    Versai took a deep breath. ¡°Now kindly point to the person you intend to shank. Is it a monster? No, that would be insane. Is it another Tower Master? No, you haven¡¯t met any, and as far as I know, you never will. Someone in a relic site? No, they are all, without exception, vastly better at fighting than you.¡±

    She started hammering her finger down on my chest. ¡°The only thing that teaching you how to knife fight will do is make you think you can knife fight, and then you will get killed.¡±

    Well. Damn. ¡°Well. Those are all really good points.¡±

    ¡°Yes. They are MY points. I specialize in keeping high value individuals alive. ¡°High Value¡± being determined by my employers, obviously.¡±

    ¡°What exactly did you do for the Queen anyway?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it. And how did you know I worked for anyone?¡±

    I pointed back into the wood chip filled Records Hall. ¡°Your record sheet. It comes with an insultingly brief note about who the summons is as a person.¡±

    ¡°Oh. And it mentioned that I was¡­ employed? By a person?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Which¡­ actually has me kind of confused.¡±

    She cocked her perfect head to the side. ¡°About what?¡±

    ¡°Well, if you were a bodyguard, shouldn¡¯t you be specialized in defense? But you are a vanguard.¡±

    ¡°Cultural difference.¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡± I said, intelligently.

    ¡°This is a cultural difference thing. ¡°Bodyguard¡± probably doesn¡¯t mean the same thing where you come from.¡±

    Huh. Valid.

    ¡°Maybe ¡°champion¡± might be a better fit?¡±

    She just shrugged. Right. How would she know?

    ¡°Assuming champion was a better term, do you think you would be better deployed against single powerful enemies, rather than many weaker enemies?¡±

    That rocked her back. ¡°Yes. Absolutely yes. Ten thousand times yes. Not that I would ever suggest you do such a thing, obviously.¡±

    ¡°Obviously.¡± I nodded, playing along.

    ¡°Consider the way you have already deployed me- as a sort of tactical reserve, coming in to weaken and slow the monsters, then retreating. Or to finish them off at the end of battle.¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± I encouraged.

    ¡°No, really, consider it. I don¡¯t WANT to talk about it.¡±

    Ah. Well then. I started sketching it out in my mind.

    For the first couple of waves, I had her stationed behind the Mikas, basically stabbing over and between them. This was largely to prevent the whole ¡°getting shot in the back¡± thing which is generally considered a less than pro-gamer move. When I had the palisade built, and especially once I had the rammed earth wall built, I sent her over the top to slow them down. Weaken them to get finished off by Mika.

    ¡°Versai, do you think you could have killed that Monster Alpha one-on-one?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    No equivocation about it. Not a hint of hesitation. She had never seen one before that night, and even with all that, she was absolutely certain she could have solo¡¯ed it. First time I¡¯ve seen ¡°Nah, I¡¯d win¡± energy IRL. Figures it would be Versai.

    Well. ¡°I R-ish L¡±.

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    ¡°Took you quite a few shots to finish it off?¡±

    ¡°Working up from the feet has that effect, yes.¡± Her voice was bone dry.

    Interesting. Very interesting. I had noticed she was faster than the monsters were, too. Not massively faster, but enough to let her control when and where the fights occurred. So long as she wasn¡¯t overwhelmed by numbers.

    I started sketching out the next battle in my head. Three orders left. Three entire orders to shape my battlefield.

    ¡°Versai, what would you say your greatest skill is?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t WANT to talk about it.¡±

    Damn. I rubbed my forehead. This was¡­ going to take a very long time. And I would need to sneak in practice time too. Regardless of what Versai said, I¡¯d seen enough anime to know what happens to the guy who doesn¡¯t sharpen his knife, given the opportunity.

    I stood out on the wall, and looked over the fortifications. Two Judiths, a Marci and a Rakim? That was a lot of dirt they could move. And I am happy to report, Rakim appreciates my taste for cheap tricks. I think.

    First thing we did was digging trenches. It would mean limiting where Pomoroi could effectively shoot, but it would also encourage clumping and funneling into those places where she could hit.

    We dug out¡­ just so much dirt. I followed a simple 80-20 rule. Eighty percent of the dirt went to building new walls, topped with a row of hedgehogs (recycled from previous waves, I was really squeezing everything I could from these orders.) The other twenty percent of the dirt was dumped on top of our back door. Sooner or later, they were going to open that door, and I intended for it to be blocked off already.

    The workers had dug out a classic switchback series of shallow trenches. The idea was to balance order-space with the ability to have the monsters running as far back and forth between ¡°openings¡± in the line as possible. Those openings, naturally, were twenty foot deep pits.

    Technically there was a sloped way in and out of them. My thinking was that they wouldn¡¯t register as barriers to the monsters, and therefore wouldn¡¯t encourage them to go climbing over the walls. The other nice thing about the pits? Each of them was easily within Pomoro or Radz¡¯s artillery range.

    Nice, deep, pits full of monsters. Pits full of long, spiky sticks. Pits that were also, to the extent practicable, filled with woodchips. They might not hold ¡®em like the tarpit traps did, but it would slow ¡®em up. There were an awful lot of those wood chips, some very tiny. I was quite curious to see if either of my artillery could set them on fire.

    I had gotten very good at stabbing and slicing. Versai was loudly of the opinion that it was all worthless until it was tested in sparring, which I reckoned was fair enough. I also reckoned that I, at a bare minimum, could be reasonably certain I would hit where I was aiming when I stabbed, every time.

    It takes a certain monomania to get good at anything. Don¡¯t test the ability of a weeb to mindlessly lose themselves in an activity. Firmly gripping something and violently moving it up and down. It¡¯s our core competency.

    MOVING SWIFTLY ALONG, there was my new favorite addition to the defenses. The Pillbox. Yes indeed. Speaking of things I wasn¡¯t waiting for the Monsters to figure out- ranged attacks and flying monsters.

    Alright, it wasn¡¯t a proper pillbox. I used some of the new Common grade materials to put a hard cement front on the wall, cemented the top of the wall, then roofed that sucker with four inches of rebar-strengthened concrete. Corporal Mika swore it wouldn¡¯t interfere with her unit using their Ult, so I was quite content with it.

    Which led to the last big addition to the defenses (beyond, yanno, four pit traps and a few other odds and ends of the hopefully-lethal variety.) The Crow¡¯s Nests.

    The Crows Nests were my commitment to the world of lateral thinking, if not outright idiocy. This was some Cirque Du Soleil logic right here. They threw out the whole logic of the pillboxes. They were just very tall poles poking up around the clearing. I had a half dozen of them erected, each fifteen yards high.

    Which is¡­ let me tell you¡­ really damn high. You don¡¯t have a feel for it until you are standing at the bottom of one and looking up.

    Why did I do such a mad thing? Because they were connected to each other by thick ropes, courtesy of all those resource packs. Some of them, the ones closest to the main wall, even had crude rope bridges. I had wanted rope bridges for all of them, but by this point Rakim and Marci were threatening industrial action.

    Part of this was to give Versai more mobility around the battlefield. If she needed to pull out and reposition, she could climb a post and (with a great deal of care) cross the ropes. If something wised up and climbed after her, she could always cut the rope behind her as she got clear. But really, I did it for the new girl on the block.

    You have to spoil your waifus, so they know you aren¡¯t like the others. You really care. And she was already a firm contender for waifu.

    Hair black as a raven¡¯s wing, black as the new moon at midnight over the Iga Peninsula. Eyes as dark as a shinobi¡¯s soul. Her black clothes left her milky white arms and shoulders bare, save for an arm guard. The half mask she wore could not conceal the aching beauty of her face. The lacquer combs she used to pin up the glory of her hair lent just a hint of femininity to the austere package.

    Slim? Yes. She was slim. But we cannot always be on the side of the big cannons.

    She had a bow nearly as long as she was tall, with delicate engraving along the belly. Her soft sandals could run across those ropes like they were flat ground. Despite not being a scout, she was now firmly set at number three on my ¡°Battlefield Mobility¡± table.

    My very first sniper, and the purest balm to my Otaku heart- Miyuki. A modest and respectable Two Star.

    Ah! I could see it now- her beautiful posture, losing deathly arrows through the dim night. Raining death on her Master¡¯s enemies!

    I admired her lithesome form, as my skin slowly tried to crawl away from me.

    Might need to reel that last one back in. Went to a happy place, managed to squick myself out. Goddamn 3-D world ruins something beautiful yet again.

    Miyuki is a ninja sniper bishoujo. A. Ninja. Sniper. Bishoujo. Literally a beautiful girl. Why won¡¯t you let me have this, 3-D?! Why must you be so cruel?!

    I forcefully tore my eyes away from our latest addition. My preparations were as perfect as I could make them. I had delayed as long as was practical. Versai and I had honed our skills as much as we could, given the system¡¯s limitations. We had gotten creative. No more delays. No more ¡°just one last thing.¡±

    ¡°Rakim, tie off the last rope bridge. It¡¯s time to summon the Fifth Wave.¡±

 Chapter 47- The Fifth Waveâ€™s Seven Pâ€™s.

    I know what I think Defense in Depth means. I also know that it is a phrase with an actual, official, definition. A definition that I don¡¯t know. I feel like what I am doing is Defense in Depth. On the other hand, as someone who traced an idiot¡¯s IP address just to make sure even their alts got roasted for calling Eden of the East a shojo anime instead of a josei anime, dare I be so casual in my nomenclature?

    I mean, a girl¡¯s anime instead of a woman¡¯s anime? Are we animals? Are we mere dumb, insensitive beasts? No! No, we are people who take pride in our obsessions. Using the right words for things separates us from the seething, ignorant maggot swarm that is the uncultured.

    Whatever you called it, the monsters started to encounter death way out in the woods. Rache was ripping through the undergrowth, marking the monster bands as they arrived. Initially, it was just Radz firing. I knew that would change soon enough.

    For now, my eyes were on Miyuki. I needed to see her range, her stopping power, her rate of fire- all the good stuff. Right now, she was just standing perfectly vertical and still on top of one of the tall posts, longbow in hand.

    If I made a repressed groaning noise looking at her, at least nobody heard me.

    ¡°Oh God. Oh God. Is he perving on the monsters?¡±

    ¡°I just hope it is the monsters. You know. Someone on his level. Honestly, he shouldn¡¯t even be allowed to, like, look at other people? It could, like, be, like, super bad vibes or whatever?¡±

    I SAID NOBODY HEARD ME!

    Why, why did I keep letting those witches pollute my precious throne room? Why?! I kept trying to remind myself that they were the key to a new six-star, that they were likely crazy powerful when they were properly unlocked, that they were, individually and collectively, searingly hot.

    Versai was awfully far away right now. And there was nobody looking out the back side of the Tower, right? Nice, big holes in the walls where fancy windows should go. An accident. So tragic that it happened four times in a row.

    No! No. I must be strong. Just¡­ think about the six star. Think about all that power, and security, and having someone other than the most excruciatingly beautiful woman in the entire world available to talk to. You can endure this.

    Remember that time one of your clients bragged to the chatbot that his Hungarian lingerie model girlfriend was bankrupting him by insisting on cocaine and champagne fueled yachting expeditions with him and her hot model friends through the Adriatic and the Ionian coast of Turkey? And then you checked, and it was all true? Even going to pirate sites to verify that their Only Fans really did provide what the Instagram pictures promised?

    Remember how neither the FBI nor the Hellenic Coast Guard were willing to act on your tip, even with all the pictures you sent them? Remember how those Coasties sent you back their own, better pics of themselves with hotter models?! You could endure that, and you can endure this too!

    Just¡­ focus on the job at hand. Monster killing. Focus on the monster killing, and your smoking hot new summons who you cannot wait to play dress up with.

    Did I have cosmetics unlocked for her? Shameful. I didn¡¯t even check. Truly disgraceful.

    ¡°Radz raining death.¡± Then the almighty BOOM. Oh yes. My little knockoff wehrmacht artillery officer was in her happy place.

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree!¡±

    Wait, what? Surely it was far too soon-

    My eyes swept through the woods. I could see the long streamers of bright smoke rising. But Pomoroi wasn¡¯t shooting anywhere near the smoke. Monsters were coming in from the edge of the woods.

    I knew it would happen. The monsters would come from too many directions, too spread out for Rache to keep track of. Splitting my fire even worse than it already was, and denying me the opportunity to even try ¡®Defense in Depth.¡¯

    Well. No matter. Because part two of my DiD strat was about to start.

    ¡°Miyuki never misses.¡± Her voice was a cool whisper that managed to reach clean across the battlefield, and into my heart. Also the monster¡¯s hearts. Kagome wished she could drop monsters like my Miyuki.

    She pulled back the bowstring, an esoteric geometry of vertical and horizontal lines emerging, fronted by the curved bow. As the bowstring was pulled back, an arrow made of glowing white light came into being. I could see its proud fletching and broad head from the Tower. Her slender fingers loosed, and a monster died. Easy as that.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    The yard-long glowing arrow stuck out of the monster¡¯s eye for a few seconds after it penetrated. Like she was sticking a flag in a soon to be colonized bit of dirt. It wasn¡¯t an armored variant, but a promising beginning anyhow. I started counting under my breath.

    ¡°Miyuki never misses.¡± Thirty five seconds after the first monster died, the second monster followed. Another yard long arrow buried in its eye. Even Miyuki¡¯s otaku-bait beauty couldn¡¯t stop my frown.

    Thirty five seconds. That put her between Radz and Pomoroy for attack speed. Which was absurd. Those two had a range measureable in kilometers. Miyuki could clearly outrange the Mika¡¯s, but she wasn¡¯t nearly on that level. More importantly, she was a single target attacker. Even though she was one-shotting the monsters, two monsters in a little over a minute made her less efficient than Mika.

    So why was she rated Two Stars? Aside from the aesthetics.

    ¡°Miyuki never misses.¡±

    Well. I¡¯d figure it out. Right now, Mikuki had plenty of time to thin the line of monsters, because a certain someone was holding up the queue.

    Versai looked like she was having a wonderful time. While the leading elements were filtering into the lines of walls, she was dropping into the trenches around them, hacking at their limbs, then hopping out again. She used the Crow¡¯s Nests and the rope bridges to race around the clearing, never staying in contact with the monsters for more than a minute.

    Well. ¡®Racing¡¯ might be pushing it. ¡®Carefully creeping along the rope bridge, holding on to the support rope quite firmly,¡¯ lacked the same energy. The spirit was there. She was using as close to a wall-hack as I could manage.

    It was awkward, and a lot slower than I would like, but so long as the monsters kept charging straight for the front door along the path of least resistance, we could control their movement to some extent. We could control, or at least influence, the timing of their attacks. And we could let our most effective melee combatant show her stuff.

    Versai dropped in behind a small clump and hacked into them. The narrow channels between the walls didn¡¯t give her much room to maneuver, but it also meant that they couldn¡¯t easily turn around or surround her. A few quick chops to sever legs and feet, a few quick stabs, then she falls back to the nearest rope or cut step in the wall, jumps to the top and from there grabs a rope up to the rope bridge and the crows nests.

    In Versai¡¯s case, it meant a lot more time in transit than in combat, but that was fine. It meant she could hurt them and get clear well before they entered into Mika¡¯s range, and let the Artillery concentrate on really distant threats. As for Miyuki-

    ¡°Miyuki never misses.¡±

    Miyuki was making it look easy. Monsters were coming out of the forest in twos and threes, so she just stood on a reasonably central pillar and, every thirty five seconds, a monster died.

    ¡°Miyuki!¡± My beloved. ¡°Versai! Let a couple through. Time to test out the Crossbow Squad.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master!¡±

    ¡°Miyuki hears the whispers in the wind.¡±

    Sniper. Ninja. Waifu. Goddess, thank you. Thank you for looking out for your devoted follower this way.

    It took the monsters a delightfully long time to reach the killing field in front of the moat. The switchback path filled most of the clearing in front of the tower, and while the walls were a bit thin and a bit low for my comfort, they worked well enough to keep a few small bands zigzagging.

    The woodchip pits were a mixed success. I noticed their hand/feet-things were long enough to let them walk over the wood chips without too much difficulty. It did slow them down some, I think, but my first impression was that the pieces would need to be a whole lot smaller if I expected them to slow down the monsters much. Maybe once they had been pulverized by artillery a few times.

    Right now, the biggest help the pits provided was that they were pits. In that they were deep, and the sides were steep enough to slow them down a moment. The plan to use them as kettles and clump the bigger waves into nice, artillery friendly targets still seems viable.

    I didn¡¯t activate any of the traps, naturally, but it was interesting to see how the monsters navigated the path they were forced into. I could see them scrabbling at the wall as they went. Not majorly deviating from the path, but definitely testing the boundaries a bit.

    Not as dumb as they looked. I sucked in a slow breath. Not as dumb as they looked- they knew a setup when they were jammed into it. They just couldn¡¯t shake loose of their programming any more than the Mikas could. The monsters attacked the Tower and Tower Master directly, moving along the path of least resistance. Even if it meant running through a gauntlet.

    Back and forth, back and forth. Until they reached the killing field in front of the Tower. The Mikas used to have a range of around forty yards. Corporal Mika was flexible enough to tell me that the new killing field needed to be a lot larger than that.

    The first monster through the path jumped out into the open space in front of the Tower. It¡¯s awful, horned head swung around, the batlike nose tasting the air. Looking for its prey.

    And then it died.

    Sixty yards out, its head exploded like a pumpkin on the internet. A half dozen glowing white bolts hit almost simultaneously, all hitting the head.

    Then the next monster popped out, and died. Then the next. Then the next. Two came at once. Three headshots each meant two dead monsters, no waiting. I looked down on the roof of the pillbox and grinned. I hoped it was a sufficiently nasty grin.

    A bigger clump came through this time, five at once. No more insta-kill headshot clusters, but I was seeing a lot of shots still landing in faces and upper chests. The rate of fire was nasty too, having also increased by a third.

    Corporal Mika was no joke. My pointy-sticks defense had evolved into as close as I could manage to a machine gun set in an armored hardpoint. The Mikas were no longer my final, only, line of defense- they were the anvil. I looked out at the smoke plumes rising over the forest, and the stream of monsters pouring into my lines.

    I couldn¡¯t wait to start hammering.

 Chapter 48- The Fifth Wave is Nothing Nice

    ¡°Versai, Miyuki- no need to keep letting them through. Resume Plan A!¡± I was getting better at yelling across the battlefield, though I think there was some kind of magic effect at work there. Maybe the Tower was helping me out or something. My summons always seemed to hear me, which was a mercy. Can¡¯t imagine trying to order them around if they couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master.¡±

    ¡°Miyuki hears the whispers in the wind.¡±

    The number of monsters making it to the Mikas rapidly slowed. Rakim was taking the occasional potshot, but for the moment, the Mikas were cleaning house. My eyes narrowed as a new clump burst out from the treeline. Armored monsters, and a dozen of them.

    ¡°Miyuki, prioritize the armored monsters!¡±

    ¡°Miyuki hears the whispers in the wind.¡±

    I kept my eyes on Miyuki. One, because she was a balm for my battered Otaku heart, but more importantly, if a sniper was no use against armored targets¡­ then they were no use at all.

    I needn''t have worried. Miyuki stood proud atop a Crows Nest, bent her bow back, and lined up her shot. ¡°Miyuki never misses.¡± The yard-long light-arrow tore away from her bow, and a fraction of a second later, sprouted from an armored monster¡¯s eye socket.

    ¡°Miyuki never misses¡± Another dead. Thirty five long seconds later- ¡°Miyuki never misses.¡± This time, something a little interesting happened. One of the monsters looked a little more on the ball, and kept its head down. Was it deliberately trying to keep the bulk of its horns and armored skull between brain and arrow? If so, that was¡­ alarming.

    Didn¡¯t matter in its specific case, though. Turns out Miyuki¡¯s arrows can punch through bone armor just fine.

    I exhaled the breath I hadn¡¯t realized I was holding. The arrow through the bony part of the skull was¡­ very relieving. Closer to explaining why she was a Two Star, even if her rate of fire remained a bad joke.

    Another twenty armored monsters came out of the woods, mixed in with the same number of the ordinary variety. Forty at once- what the hell was Radz playing at?!

    ¡°Pomoroi- hit that clump!¡±

    ¡°Pomoroi, By Imperial Decree!¡± Her shiny black boots flashed in the moonlight as she pedaled her iron cannon around to target the mob rushing our line. There was a furious BOOM! The cannon ball smashed into the monsters, leaving an explosive trail of gore. I didn¡¯t see where it dropped, but I had to imagine it rolling deeper into the woods, taking out legs as it went.

    God, it tore through those beasts. Only in a straight line, but that armor did nothing to slow it down. She must have bagged eight in one shot. The monsters didn¡¯t slow for their wounded and killed comrades. They raced straight for the walls, and cover.

    ¡°Miyuki never misses.¡±

    My head whipped around, trying to find my shinobi. She had somehow, without my noticing, managed to move from a fairly central Crows Nest to one at the furthest edge of the network. The one closest to the woods. I couldn¡¯t figure out why at first.

    Then she showed me why she rated the extra star. It wasn¡¯t her speed, or balance, or armor piercing. Miyuki was a goddamn sadistic psychopath.

    Miyuki would wait until two monsters were more or less on top of each other, then aimed for places with little or no armor, like wrists, or feet. She would aim at those spots, and nail two monsters together. Then wait for the next monster to run into the heap, and shot them in the paw, nailing their hand to some monster¡¯s neck. And so on and so on.

    Versai quickly jumped down onto the heap and started harvesting heads. It was the damnedest thing. Miyuki¡¯s slow rate of fire meant a lot of monsters scrambled over the clump, but it was a hell of a road block while it lasted.

    And, unfortunately, a complete turnoff. I¡¯m not into yandere. That murderous-obsessive girlfriend thing is just too alarming. My heart is like my arches- in need of soft, enduring support. Once more, a beautiful dream is shattered by bad character design.

    I sighed. She just looked so perfect, you know?

    I heard the monster pile scream as they clawed and tore at each other, trying to get themselves unstuck. Someone might look perfect, but once you get to know them, the flaws appear. I think that¡¯s a good life rule.

    There was something tickling at my brain, but I couldn¡¯t quite pin down what it was.

    ¡°Miyuki never misses.¡± Well, now that bark was just creepy. And not what my instincts were nudging me about. I kept looking at the screaming, writhing heap of monsters she was building. All nailed together into a suffering mass.

    All nailed together. The arrows. The arrows weren¡¯t vanishing. They were sticking around longer than Mikas¡¯ bolts. What¡¯s more, the monsters didn¡¯t seem to be able to break them. Or¡­ pull them out? They weren''t coming out with all the thrashing they were doing at least.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Oh, I am going to abuse the hell out of that.

    ¡°Miyuki! Nail them together when they get to the pits!¡±

    ¡°Miyuki hears the whisper in the wind.¡±

    They were starting to pour through the woods in a steady stream now- the time of easy pickings was clearly over. Radz had too many targets to keep up.

    ¡°Pomoroi, Radz, hold your fire until you have a clump of them in a pit. Versai, kettle ¡®em in Pit Number One!¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master.¡±

    ¡°Orders received.¡±

    ¡°By your command.¡±

    My shoulders got tighter and tighter, waiting to see how this played out. So far, Versai had been hitting the monsters from behind. The kettling plan had her hitting them from the front.

    Versa dropped down from the rope bridges just in front of one of the pits.  She slapped her shield twice with her sword, fixing the lead monster¡¯s eyes on her. Didn¡¯t matter a damn from her perspective. She stomped once, hard, and lunged. I only saw her recovery. The lunge itself was too fast for my eyes to follow. One dead monster.

    Another monster leapt over the first a fraction of a second later, and a fraction of a second after that, was also dead. Then it was two more monsters, scrambling at odd angles, pressed up against each other, with a third coming practically on top of them, and five more just behind the third. This is how she died in the past. No matter how fast she was or hard she hit, they buried her in bodies, or just got around her and to the Tower Master.

    Not this time.

    She slashed the two leading monsters, smacked the third with her shield, then jumped backwards and to the side. There was a thin ledge that skirted the pit a quarter of the way around, with a rope ladder up to the Crows Nests. In the bare seconds the monsters needed to recover themselves and make their way into the pit, she had already broken contact.

    Ever been stuck in traffic because people were rubbernecking at an accident? Unlike you, who responsibly kept your speed up while trying to film the accident on your suddenly slippery phone? It really doesn¡¯t take much to slow down an entire rush hour. Even though the road is ¡°clear,¡± the Bruckner Expressway might as well be called the Bruckner Parking Lot.

    Always been a subway guy. Cars are kind of horrible to me. Never even got my license. Still, not like I¡¯ve never taken an Uber or whatever. At long last, I got to fulfill the dream of everyone who has ever been stuck in traffic.

    The jammed up monsters stacked into a clump and pushed themselves in a roaring mass down into the pit.

    Time to blow up all the other cars. ¡°Artillery, Fire on Pit Number One!¡±

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree!¡±

    ¡°Orders received. Radz Raining Death.¡±

    I really wanted to understand how these projectiles worked. I watched Pomoroi¡¯s cannonball skim over the walls and drop into the pit, smashing who knows how many monsters in the process. A bare second later, Radz¡¯s mortar round burst.

    My mind locked up, unwilling to process the gorey scene. ¡°Like Satan¡¯s private ballpit¡± came the intrusive whisper. ¡°Boy, I would sure love to know how a projectile seemingly made of light has a flight time and an explosive radius,¡± said the thought trying to flood my mind with distraction.

    The combination worked. The monsters got clumped up, concentrated in a small area, then smashed with the artillery. Whatever those projectiles were, they followed at least some of the usual laws of physics. Laws I can¡¯t even pretend to know. What I do know? Explosions in a confined space are really, really bad for the meatsacks in there with them.

    I watched the few survivors, badly damaged all of them, trying to get clear. You could see that it wasn¡¯t just physical damage. Looked like their brains got shook as well. Stumbling. Disoriented. Leaking blood and unknowable other fluids. Soaking the wood chips.

    Pomoroi had time to get another shot off before any escaped the pit. A couple made it out, sort of. Miyuki didn¡¯t even have to shoot them. For the first time, I watched monsters bleed out.

    Then the next big batch was coming in, and I didn¡¯t have time to worry about anything else, except doing it all over again. It looked like the wave numbers had shot up again. We were killing them at a hell of a rate, but this still felt¡­ tentative. Probing. Which wasn¡¯t really in character for the monsters.

    No. The devs were cooking up something nasty. I was sure of it. Last time it was that so-called ¡°optional boss.¡± This was a wave divisible by five. I was still betting on a whole new enemy type over a genuine boss monster. A fast mob was my bet. It was a classic- a dog looking thing, or (please Goddess, no) a bird. Different enough to the regular monsters be immediately recognizable.

    Fast moving, high damage, low health and armor. Either that or my real nightmare, ranged.

    ¡°Keep your eye out, everyone! Anyone sees a new type of monster, prioritize killing it!¡±

    I got a chorus of barks in reply. I kept my eyes moving around the battlefield, trying to spot where the beating would come from. So far, our defenses were doing well. The woodchip idea was a loser, but other than that, the extra mobility provided by the Crows Nests and the Rope Bridges was a game changer. It let us make the walls very narrow, limiting the number of monsters my summons would have to face at any given time.

    I didn¡¯t allow myself to relax or feel undue hope. I remembered what happened the last time.

    I saw Versai crossing a rope bridge, maneuvering on a big clump of armored monsters.

    ¡°Miyuki sees the serpent hidden in the grass!¡±

    I whipped my head around trying to see what she was drawing a bead on. It looked like she was going to shoot Versai! I was about to yell something when the rope holding Versai¡­

    Dropped.

    Dropping her fifteen yards straight down, into a mob of armored monsters.

    Miyuki¡¯s arrow flew fast and struck hard. It nailed something the size of a baboon to the Crow¡¯s Nest. Something that had been invisible. Something smart enough to cut a rope.

    Not fast enemies, nor flying enemies, invisible enemies that could think tactically.

    I saw a sudden burst of gore from where Versai had fallen, the monsters alternately screaming in pain and with joy that they finally had an enemy they could sink their claws into. Versai was cut off from the other summons. Alone, surrounded by monsters. While the invisible knife pressed at our throats.

 Chapter 49- The Fifth Waveâ€™s Horror

    I felt my brain congeal. It was suddenly all too much. Too many things to keep track of. Too many decisions to make. The most crucial decision was- do I keep Miyuki looking for invisible units? Because where there was one, there would be many. Or do I send her to help Versai?

    It was dumb. It was short sighted. She was a looper- her deaths were never forever. She was the only other real person in here with me.

    ¡°Miyuki! Keep your eye out for any more invisible critters, and go help Versai! Versai! Fight clear! Get back to the Tower! Help is on the way! Both of you, eat your berries when you can. Go full speed and all out!¡±

    This was dumb. This was very dumb. There could be invisible monsters coming for me right now!

    ¡°Medics, stand by to heal! Mikas, Rakim, look out for little invisible monsters!¡±

    I paused. ¡°Can anyone other than Miyuki spot invisible or camouflaged monsters?¡±

    Rakim yelled back- ¡°I can build detectors Sir, and spot them at close range.¡±

    Better than nothing. A whole, whole lot better than nothing.

    ¡°Alright, your full time job is keeping our artillery and Mikas invisible-monster free. Don¡¯t bother with the regular monsters, you see a stealth unit, you shoot it! Also, activate the Mutilator 3K!¡±

    ¡°Yes Sir!¡±

    Deep breath. ¡°Corporal Mika, permission granted to activate Shield Tower as needed.¡±

    ¡°Yes Tower Master!¡±

    I really wish I knew the right expletives for a time like this.

    I watched Miyuki race across the rope bridges, apparently unconcerned about a second monster coming to sabotage her. She reached a crows nest with line-of-sight and started shooting. More monsters incoming. That wouldn¡¯t do.

    ¡°Radz, Pomoroi- concentrate your fire on the entrance to the path. I don¡¯t care if you only hit a few at a time, thin them out!¡±

    ¡°Orders received, Radz raining death.¡±

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree! The Army shall retreat in good order!¡±

    Her words hit me in the gut. How much did they remember? How much were they made to remember? How much was real?

    Versai was real. I had to believe that she was real, or I would be alone in this sea of dolls and monsters. I had to rescue Versai!

    The Mutilator activated. There was a horrible screeching noise and a stealthed unit popped into sight. Neatly segmented, I was happy to see. Wouldn¡¯t be walking that off, even if it was taking a minute to die.

    The Mutilator 3K looked like it was operated on some kind of gnomish lazer trip-wire. I genuinely had no idea if it would catch the invisible critters. Looks like it did. They must be using some kind of camouflage rather than real invisibility.

    The Mutilator was set up in the closest bend of our monster-track, thinning out the monsters before they made it into the killing field in front of the Tower. So. The invisible monsters were a lot closer than I would like. And if they were smart enough to climb up the Crows Nest to cut a rope bridge-

    ¡°Rakim! Cut the rope bridge to the wall! Cut it now!¡±

    ¡°Yes Si- CONTACT FRONT!¡±

    I got a better look at the monster. It wasn¡¯t invisible. It wasn¡¯t even really camouflaged, as I understood the word. Like, not a camo pattern. They wouldn¡¯t sell this at Cabela. It was the patterns on its fur and hide. They seemed to break up its shape so much, you didn¡¯t think you were looking at anything at all. Until it was right in your face, anyway. Rakim had spotted it crossing the rope bridge.

    I froze. Rakim shot the freak in its evil face. Triple tap, then she took a knee and gave it another three center mass. It dropped off the rope. She kept shooting. I didn''t see anything else fall off. Apparently satisfied, Rakim let her rifle drop onto its sling, and untied the rope from the wall.

    Sweeping with bullets. Nice. Don¡¯t have to see you to kill you. My hand felt weird. I looked down. Without realizing, I had grabbed the hilt of my knife so hard, my hand had started to hurt.

    I forced my eyes over to where Miyuki was. She was aiming a little away from where Versai dropped. Looked like she was making one of her monster piles. Which, I hoped, meant Versai was still up and fighting.

    Come on Versai! COME ON! You are a Six Star. The Queen¡¯s Bodyguard! You got dropped into it, but there are only so many that can come at you at a time. You got this. You got this!

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    The forest seemed to suddenly vomit monsters. Twenty, forty, fifty of them, rushing out at once. Scrambling as fast as they could to cover the ground between the forest edge and the walls.

    ¡°Pomoroi, Radz! Hit ¡®em!¡±

    Like they weren¡¯t already. I couldn¡¯t help it. I wanted to do something, anything! But the only useful thing I could do was stay up here and yell orders. Even going to the wall would be stupid. Now that they had infiltrators, I would be a horrible liability.

    Helpless. Isolated. Everywhere dangerous. Every stranger trying to hurt me. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide from this. There was nowhere I could hide from this. Not really. Not even inside myself. Later, yes. Later I would retreat. But for now, there was nowhere to run from the screams and gore.

    Rakim¡¯s rifle was up and firing again. I couldn¡¯t see what, until the bodies started tumbling off the walls. It seemed the little infiltrators were able to maneuver around the hedgehogs on top of the walls without too much trouble. So that was¡­ not good. None of the resource packs dropped barbed wire, but they did drop wire. Might be time for some more experiments. Assuming we survived this wave.

    I saw a dozen monsters make it to the Mutilator 3K. The results were mixed. The good news was that the blades did punch through more than one monster before coming to a stop. The bad news was that they didn¡¯t punch through a dozen.

    I couldn¡¯t really do a forensic analysis from several stories up, but at a guess? The more monster meat, and more monster bone, they had to go through, the sooner they vanished. Still managed to wipe out six in one volley. The second volley only caught one more before they made the turn, and wounded another.

    The remnant monsters were met with a storm of bolts. The Mikas never played around before. Now, they were downright vicious. The monsters didn¡¯t even make it a quarter of the way to the moat.

    My eyes were dragged back to where Versai was. It had only been¡­ maybe a minute? Maybe two? The next big wave of monsters was making its way towards where she was. Fast.

    ¡°Versai, MOVE! UP AND OUT!¡± I was screaming. I wasn¡¯t commanding masterfully, I was screaming at her to run. RUN!

    There was a flash of gold. My heart caught in my throat.

    Then another flash of gold, and she was kicking off the wall, she was kicking off the hedgehog and launching herself over to the next wall, and vaulting the hedgehog, then kicking off again and running hell for leather straight back, straight back to the Tower.

    Mikyuki was following her above, making it look easy, bow drawn but not firing, covering her. Miyuki loosed an arrow, I didn¡¯t see what she hit, but Versai didn¡¯t slow, didn¡¯t slow, she was over the last wall now and into the killing field and running!

    ¡°MIKAS! RAKIM! CONCENTRATE YOUR FIRE! COVER VERSAI! KIM! THROW DOWN A ROPE!¡± I was screaming, still screaming and I don¡¯t care, I don¡¯t care she¡¯s alive, alive, alive!

    She hit the moat and jumped across, grabbing the rope and scrambling up in seconds. Kim, GOD DAMN KIM, held the rope with her one good arm, wrapped the end of the rope around herself and jumped off the inside of the wall, hauling Versai up as fast as she possibly could and I wasn¡¯t crying I can¡¯t cry but I want to cry because it¡¯s not fair its not fair and it hurts so much but I can¡¯t cry and she¡¯s safe now, she¡¯s safe now.

    I tried to breathe. Pammy was there, and Maria, their bandages flying, practically mummifying Versai. Which they wouldn¡¯t do if she was dead. I jolted, then relaxed. Maria hadn¡¯t tried to dispense her suicide capsule. So Versai really was safe now. She was going to be okay.

    I didn¡¯t kill her.

    My stupid, idiotic, arrogant plan didn¡¯t kill her.

    I thought I was so smart. Thought I could beat the game. Think outside the box. And I almost got her killed. Stupid. Slow. Weak. Fat. Loser. Loser. Weeb. Degenerate. Neckbeard. Scumbag. Loser. Fat. Smelly. Loser. Incel. Pervert. Scumbag. Filthy.

    We hear all the words, you know. All the things you call us. Even the things you don¡¯t call us, we call ourselves, because it¡¯s how you have taught us to see ourselves. You have taught us our truth.

    On some level, I know nobody cares enough about me to waste a curse. But they don¡¯t have to. I have been taught, patently, over decades, to know just what I am. What my place is. And if I ever forget, there are plenty of people ready to remind me.

    Couldn¡¯t bear to read Mushoku Tensei. I was that guy. No way my story ended with godlike powers and a harem. That wasn¡¯t who I am. That wasn¡¯t how my story ends.

    My story ends with the doctors needing two hands and a back brace to toss my amputated foot in the trash after diabetes takes it. It ends with Azumanga Daioh on a loop as I choke down a fistful of the percs and xanax my online doctor prescribed after a thirty second zoom meeting. Slowly fading out in a final moment of unqualified happiness.

    It ends with paramedics having to break down the wall to haul my rotting corpse out of my apartment, because I haven¡¯t fit through the door in years.

    She was sitting up now. Not moving around, letting Maria and Pammy do their thing, fussing over her.

    My tactical situation was, in a word, boned. Everyone was out of place, all my prepared traps weren¡¯t being used properly, my ¡°game changing¡± defense-in-depth idea changed the game for the worse. And the monsters were still pouring in.

    The wave wasn¡¯t done yet. I forced myself to breathe. I forced myself to unwrap my fingers from the knife. It took more effort than it should have. My fingers seemed to have forgotten how to relax. How to unclench.

    I¡­ knew how to beat the basement. How to avoid that bad end. I might have been hiding out in the 2-D world, but I earned my own money. I might have been fat, but at least I ate vegetables sometimes, in sauce. I might be a pervert, but I had a line. I had things that weren¡¯t okay. However low they were, I had standards. I could meet my eyes in the mirror. I knew how to beat this.

    The wave wasn¡¯t done yet. The monsters didn¡¯t quit. So I wasn¡¯t done yet. I wouldn¡¯t quit. Not on my summons. Not on myself.

    ¡°Radz, Pomoroi, hold fire and wait for them to clump in Pit Number Two. Rakim! Back on infiltrator watch. Keep us clean! Miyuki! Prioritize killing the infiltrators, but clump ¡®em up near Pit Number Two if you see an opportunity. Kim, keep ¡®em buffed!¡±

    I smashed my hand down flat on the windowsill.

    ¡°WE AREN¡¯T DONE! WE ARE GOING TO KILL THEM ALL! KILL! KILL! KILL!¡±

 Chapter 50- The Fifth Wave Wishes It Could End

    Monsters were alarmingly evenly distributed through my switchback path for them. Alarming, because this combined the worst of both worlds- able to overwhelm my defenses with numbers, but too spread out to be easily blown up with artillery. Fortunately, I had planned for such an occurrence. Unfortunately, I had invisible murder-baboons to deal with.

    So. Mixed bag.

    Miyuki seemed to be dropping the new monsters from all over the clearing, whenever the vile things broke cover. Rakim could spot them too, but they had to be within ten yards or so. Practically knife range. Scared the Hell out of me, because it meant that she had to keep moving along the wall to make sure none were getting around her and infiltrating through a blindspot.

    Versai was taking five. Or ten. She could take however long she wanted. I don¡¯t care. I do not care. She can, and should, sit right there on the battlement and get healed up and just work on her tan or whatever, I do not care, I just don¡¯t want her out there again this wave!

    Every few seconds, the Mutilator 3K would fire its buzzsaw blades down the path, and monsters would leave chunks behind. My favorite was when those infiltrator monsters got nailed in the process. I could see their logic. Miyuki was killing any of them that tried to go over the top of the walls, so sticking tight to another monster, particularly an armored monster, made it much harder to spot and kill.

    Not for the Mutilator 3K. State of the art Gnomish engineering was not at all deterred by minor inconveniences like camouflage, or ethics. Or basic concepts of morality. I seem to remember something, some Youtubers warning of Gnome perfidy.

    Well, right now I¡¯d tolerate them. Because anything that killed stealth-monsters was good. Flat out, no qualifiers, good.

    I could see one of the horrors on the ground of the killing field in front of the Tower. It wasn¡¯t invisible, exactly, it just tricked your mind into not seeing it. The patterns on its fur and hide broke up the outline of its body almost perfectly. Even lying on the ground, I was fairly sure I wasn¡¯t seeing it correctly.

    It was clearly related to the larger monsters. That¡­ awful face. The combination of goat, wolf and bat. The long, clawed hands and feet that were no different than the hands.

    The eyes though, the eyes! They had the horizontal slit pupil of a goat, but even in death there was a cruel cunning to them. Smart enough to understand the rope bridges. Smart enough to cut the rope with its claws, or even undo the knots, when someone was on it. That meant at least monkey or baboon level intelligence.

    It might even mean full sapience. In which case, we were one-hundred-percent dead. The only way we had been surviving this game was that the monsters were stupid. So completely kill-obsessed, they ignored the obvious and followed the path of least resistance.

    It didn¡¯t look like they were quite that advanced. At least, they couldn¡¯t seem to stop themselves from constantly charging forward. They might do it slowly, or in unexpected directions, but they kept pushing forward. Kept pressing the attack.

    When they stopped attacking¡­ well I¡¯m already scared. The day they stop attacking and just wait, I¡¯m going to be utterly terrified. Because if they are smart enough to realize they are being slaughtered thanks to the fortifications, then it means they are smart enough to strategize around them.

    The Mikas were doing an incredible job. The monsters were getting through the switchbacks in, frankly, much larger numbers than I had expected, and it really didn¡¯t matter. The Mika¡¯s upgraded range and rate of fire meant that even without Rakim, none of the ordinary, or even armored, monsters got too close. The armored monsters were more of a challenge to be sure, but when six bolts headshotted simultaneously¡­ it wasn¡¯t anything too bad.

    Ever since they got the squad upgrade, there was an extra something to the Mikas. They had a glint in their eye, like they were ready and willing to be the solution to the monster problem. Even their idle animations changed. No more being clumsy, or looking awkward. They looked like they were professionals, having a little rest before they got back to work.

    ¡°Tower Master- It worked!¡±

    I heard Versai calling me. It sounded like a taunt. My plan had very spectacularly not worked. I was about to yell down something unkind, but she interrupted me.

    ¡°The blade play- it worked!¡±

    It took me a couple of seconds, then my lips pulled back. I don¡¯t know if I was smiling or snarling. I felt like I should have a mouth full of bloody fangs. We had spent a very, very long time practicing before the fifth wave. We didn¡¯t have many examples to work from, and I was practically screaming with frustration at the blatant blocks the system was throwing at us. But we found an edge, and pushed.

    In Versai¡¯s case, the edge was on her sword.

    ¡°They couldn¡¯t stand against me. They couldn¡¯t keep up at all! Once I cleared enough space to stand in, I tore through ¡®em. It was only right as I fell when they got me!¡±

    ¡°Like Hell!¡± I yelled back. ¡°You were shredded. You damn near came back in chunks!¡±

    ¡°It WORKED!¡±

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Great, I¡¯m happy! I am genuinely very happy! NOW STAY ON THAT BATTLEMENT AND DON¡¯T TAKE A SINGLE DAMN FOOT OFF IT UNTIL I SAY SO!¡±

    I was gasping at the end. Shaking. The whipsaw of emotions was too much. I forced my attention back on the monsters, trying to see where adjustments were needed.

    I could just slap the teeth clean out of her head! How dare she look so damn proud! She almost died!

    The monsters were neither clumping or dying nearly as well as they had been before. Rache was still marking them out in the woods, but the smoke was rising closer and closer to the Tower. Looked like this was the majority of them, then.

    Could¡­ Rache spot hidden units? It would be a very ¡°scout¡± thing. I should ask Versai if she had spotted those infiltrator units. I didn¡¯t.

    My summons had this. Unless there was another curveball coming, which I wouldn¡¯t rule out. The basic geography of the terrain, all those walls and pits, were working. I hadn¡¯t even had to activate the pit traps I got from Crusher Jim¡¯s place. That was a savings right there.

    The monsters would come pouring through, Miyuki would staple a few of them together, they would clump up, then fall over into a pit. At which point, they were given a free lesson in the development of artillery.

    Miyuki wasn¡¯t clumping them as much as I would like- she was still primarily anti-stealth. Which meant that artillery wasn''t killing as many as they would in my ideal world. More were reaching the Mikas. But like I said- the Mikas were doing incredible. I wasn¡¯t too worried.

    All that was left was waiting for Rache to bring the good word.

    A few minutes passed. I was noticing fewer and fewer monsters filtering in through the woodline. Then none. Well. None that I could see. The wave wasn¡¯t over until the system made the announcement.

    ¡°Miyuki, start shooting to wound. Pin them to the ground with as little damage as you can manage.¡±

    It was almost time for phase two of tonight¡¯s events.

    ¡°Range free and clear of Banditos, Boss. Boss, sneaky varmints are around.¡±

    ¡°Clean up the sneaky varmints! Leave the normal monsters alone if you can.¡± I yelled down.

    ¡°Chromed lightning!¡±

    I smiled up at the moon. This time I knew damn well my expression was nasty.

    ¡°Alright, here¡¯s how it¡¯s going to go. Maria, you stand over here. If the monster looks like it¡¯s about to die, heal it. Not all the way, just enough so that it doesn¡¯t die.¡± I pointed to the ground near the monster. Miyuki had managed to pin it to the ground through both legs and both hands. She really took the time to get it just right.

    Yandere confirmed. And my heart breaks.

    ¡°Miyuki, you are up in the crows nest. You keep an eye out for any infiltrators that we might have missed,¡± despite searching quite carefully for what felt like forty minutes, ¡°and if your arrows vanish for any reason, pin the monster to the ground again.¡±

    So far, Miyuki¡¯s arrows hadn¡¯t vanished on their own except when the monster she was aiming at died. I couldn¡¯t order her to deliberately miss either- I tried. Nor would she shoot anything that wasn¡¯t deemed a valid target. So far, the only valid targets were monsters.

    Ah well. Lots of time to experiment. Lots and lots and lots of time.

    I looked over at the Mikas. ¡°Your job is to stand around Maria and keep her alive. Keep yourselves alive too.¡±

    Corporal Mika sketched a salute. ¡°Yes, Tower Master. You have nothing to fear. Mika is here.¡±

    I rubbed my hands together.

    ¡°Judiths, Marci, come on out!¡±

    I huddled with them and Rakim. ¡°Can I order you to build things during a wave?¡±

    They looked at each other. Then at me. Then at each other. Then the workers looked at Rakim, apparently shoving the responsibility off on the highest Star present.

    ¡°I can make repairs and field fortifications during a wave. They probably can too.¡±

    ¡°It would be a sort of attack, right?¡±

    ¡°Err¡­ Yes Sir. Probably, Sir.¡±

    ¡°Would it subtract from tomorrow¡¯s orders?¡±

    ¡°Sir? How could that be possible? Every day has exactly five orders.¡±

    I started chuckling. Then guffawing. Then laughing. I fell on the ground. My body convulsed. I hammered on the ground, laughing and cheering. My summons just looked at me strangely. I couldn¡¯t possibly care less.

    When I was done tearing up half the dirt around me, I smiled as Rakim. Who, displaying the experience provided by her long career in whatever army she came from, looked like she wished she was hard at work somewhere far, far away from officer supervision.

    ¡°Remember when you said that you had ideas for fortifications built out of rammed earth walls, but it would take ten or fifteen orders to build?¡±

    ¡°Roughly, sir.¡±

    ¡°How long would it take if you added in anti-stealth detectors, siege engines and an entire forbidden pyramid¡¯s worth of traps? Plus extending and refining the single forced path monster killing field?¡±

    ¡°I have no idea sir. Sounds like a job with no upper limit. At least twenty five? And I should tell you, I don¡¯t know how to build siege engines, whatever they are.¡±

    ¡°Not a problem. I don¡¯t know any of the math behind trebuchets but guess what? We can all learn together.¡±

    We couldn¡¯t extend the night indefinitely. We had seen the world react when the NPC¡¯s got too out of line- first with Sebastian, then with Crusher Jim. Sooner or later, the system would move to end the wave, or force us to.

    But until then, I had unlimited orders to play with. And after the wave ended, I would have whatever unlocked next. Then I would take all the time I liked training, training, and training some more. Seeing if I couldn¡¯t push the lower stars past their boundaries. And then I would be finishing my business in the Floating Quarter of Gradden March.

    The camouflage monsters- they would need careful study. Dissection, even. Rakim could build countermeasures, but could summons be trained to spot them even if they couldn¡¯t before? Oh, there were endless things to build. Endless things to test. Endless things to experiment with, in this endless moment the devs had locked us into.

    Endless time to grow, and become mighty.

    ¡°Can I come down from the wall now?¡±

    ¡°I said park it, lady!¡±

 Chapter 51- Building Wide, Not Tall

    Every stick-load was a victory. Not, you note, every shovelful. The prohibition on using my summons¡¯ tools was no joke. But you know what I could use? Sticks. I could use sticks. And you can dig a lot more than you might think with just a stick.

    Did I manage in an ¡®hour¡¯ what Judith managed in eight seconds? Yes. Ish. I¡¯d like to think. On a spiritual level, certainly. But I didn''t get tired, and every speck of dirt that I shifted now was dirt that my workers wouldn¡¯t have to shift when Order Time resumed. So. Every stick load was a victory. I dug.

    Rakim¡¯s ¡°More walls is not more better¡± explanation was painful, if logical. If you have a wall, you must defend the wall. If you don¡¯t, the wall becomes an obstacle to killing the enemy. This is a bad thing. That means traps and troops, preferably troops are needed. We cannot make more (useful) traps at this point. We only have so many troops. We must therefore limit the amount of wall. We could, however, wrap the front of the Tower in a wall, and improve the Murder-Track.

    Look, I don¡¯t know what to call it. ¡°The Path?¡± What are we, Buddhists? I¡¯m not ready to shave my head. ¡°The Road?¡± What if I had more roads in the future? Something Rakim had mentioned stuck in my mind. She could build roads. Right now, she was putting her civil engineering skills to work building my Murder-Track. But since she could build roads, the odds were above decent that would become relevant in the future.

    I stabbed into the dirt with my digging stick and started ripping it up. This section could be deeper. The dirt would get stacked on the Great Serpentine Wall. Name to be confirmed at a later date. Tough dirt. Definitely not giving up without a fight. But so what? I had time.

    At the end of the day, I just liked things to be clearly labeled and strictly defined. My defensive structures needed to have precise names, so when I yelled ¡°Shoot the monsters at Point X,¡± everyone knew where Point X was. Since this was a tower defense game, the empty space was every bit as important to define as the filled in spaces.

    Consider, if you will, the related field of study called the zettai ry¨­iki. One might, if they were shallow, simply believe it referred to the ¡°absolute zone¡± from Neon Genesis Evangelion. People of refinement know it refers to the space between the top of the thigh high socks and the bottom of the mini-skirt. The truly cultured, however, those who propel us forward as a society, know that there is a defined ratio that must be followed for the perfect zettai ry¨­iki. Dress to thigh to above-the-knee portion of the socks is, always, 4-1-2.5.

    If you don¡¯t believe me, ask Aqua, Megumin, Rin Tohsaka, Asuna (SAO costume because Alfheim didn¡¯t happen,) the rest of the female characters in SAO, Shana, Louise, Taiga (Rei Kugimiya getting loads of work there), Erina, Julis, Emilia, Hatsune God Damn Miku and the list is barely started. The zettai ry¨­iki ratio is more reliable than gravity, and better explained.

    Does this definition allow for some tolerance? Certainly. Up to 25%. But it is defined. You can measure it. People built advertising campaigns around it. They built entire franchises around it. Intellectual property empires that spanned the globe were built on that ratio. It was tested, refined, and finally, fixed permanently. The definition is built around the gap. And my Tower deserved no less.

    Also, I can¡¯t think of a better thing to call it than Murder-Track. And I¡¯m the Tower Master, a title that is definitely not compensating for anything. So I get to decide what it is called. While desperately wishing I had been isekai¡¯ed into the Konosuba world instead of this one.

    Our current layout for the Tower was, essentially, an intestine leading to last nights¡¯ triple-cheese-double-meat nachos. The cemented battlement covering our front door (still with no gate, because momma didn¡¯t raise no fool, or me, but the no fool bit is more relevant here) couldn¡¯t be easily altered at this point. All the existing walls were now big enough to be a complete pain in the neck to shift, in fact. Happily, they seemed to be tall enough as it was. What we needed now was to make them longer, and make sure we had ways to spot murder baboons.

    So we just knocked out the turn points and extended the wall that bracketed the serpentine paths. My initial thought was to ring the whole Tower with a giant wall, Attack on Titan Style, but Rakim had a brutal counter for that.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    She had a point. It didn¡¯t help me to do that, as I couldn¡¯t make use of the walls to attack. My artillery would blow it up, my sniper would have to stand uncomfortably close to the monsters, my Mikas couldn¡¯t fall back in time, and Versai sure couldn¡¯t hold a whole damn wall by herself. Neither could Rakim, for that matter. So there was literally no point. And it would take up a huge amount of time and dirt.

    The damn Army Corps of Engineers fights dirty. Just snuck in and blew up my whole wall. And my dreams for my own Scout Regiment. One day, my dreams won¡¯t stay dreams. One day.

    So. The Murder Track. Snaking back and forth. I had managed to extend the track to cover a wide arc in front of the Tower. The similarity to a wifi signal strength icon was not lost on me.  I wasn¡¯t willing to make the walls too thin, as wallbreakers remained a worry. As did more Alpha sized monsters. Making matters worse, we ran out of trees.

    Which was so absurd, I was honestly kind of insulted. It was true, but that didn¡¯t change my feelings. The trees in the forest surrounding the Tower ranged in size from huge to Redwoods. The forest itself was so vast, it boggled the imagination. However, in my enthusiasm to build a mega-fortress, I had forgotten one pesky detail. The range the summons could move from the Tower.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Versai had guesstimated the summons could get about twenty times farther from the Tower than I could, and that appeared to be roughly correct. With the exception of my scout, Rache, the other classes could only move around within a fixed range of the tower. Presumably there was a limit on how far Rache could go, but I hadn¡¯t found it yet.

    Higher Stars seemed to have a longer range, with Versai unsurprisingly having the second longest range, followed, to my utter fascination, by Corporal Mika, then Rakim.

    Was¡­ range tied to initiative and intelligence? Beyond specific class abilities, I mean?

    Anyway, the volume of space that covered was enormous, and the volume of timber it generated was, likewise, enormous, BUT the length of walls needing to be topped with big, spikey hedgehogs was even more enormous. I couldn¡¯t let the monsters just climb over my walls, obviously. Needed all those stakes. I also needed to refine my Crows Nest system.

    Fair to say that the first generation had its problems. Especially in light of the whole stealthed Murder Baboon situation. Right now, only Miyuki and Rache could spot them at any kind of decent range, and Rache was a melee scout. Rakim could spot them within about ten yards, and Versai could spot them once they were in sword range, more or less. So. Not ideal.

    Rakim had said she could build detectors to help everyone spot the sneaky monsters. What she hadn¡¯t mentioned was that she couldn¡¯t actually build any of the detectors at the moment. She needed a special material to make them called blue magnesium. Rarity- Uncommon. Best material we had yet encountered was Common.

    You can imagine my deep, deep joy.

    So Miyuki had a crucial double duty. She was our number one Murder Baboon exterminator, as well as our monster-death-heap manufacturer. Which meant that I needed to give her the absolute maximum amount of elevation and mobility possible, to maximize her line of sight.

    I tested her ability to shoot straight down. I had read that it was really difficult with bows. She shot off our captive monster¡¯s pinky from fifteen yards straight up. Then repeated the trick balancing on a log set up on one of the nests, a whopping twenty yards up.

    Yandere super-confirmed. No matter. She would be appreciated for who she was. From behind thick walls. To show her just how much I valued her as a violence-professional, I built her watchtowers. Most of them were built over the Murder Track, but two of them were a little special. I had built them outside my walls.

    It just made sense. With all the switchback turns pressed tightly together, one sniper could cover a lot of corners. Tack on the fact that the monsters would be moving their slowest at that point, and she could really clump them up nicely. Once they piled up enough, they would tip over into a woodchip-free pit, and get introduced to the wonders of artillery.

    Assuming nothing climbed up the towers and ganked my ninja. Or persuaded a monster to tip the whole thing over. I didn¡¯t know if the Murder Baboons could do that, but they were clearly a lot smarter than the ordinary monsters. It was a real worry. Just to be on the safe side, I built two more towers on either side of the giant dirt pile now covering the back door. Never knew when they might come in handy. Presumably it would be at the worst possible time.

    One thing that I dismantled in a big hurry was the rope bridge network. It had worked brilliantly for Miyuki, but I was not going to tolerate the monsters, any monsters, having a way to get around my walls. Unfortunate, as Versai¡¯s swordplay was now more than a little scary. Giving her more time to thin out the monsters was just good sense. It also meant that I had to figure out how to get Miyuki between the watch towers.

    I was brooding on that exact problem when I made a crucial discovery. I was ogling *COUGH* calmly considering Miyuki¡¯s equipment loadout when I realized that she was lacking a key piece of ninja-gear. The grappling hook.

    ¡°Hey, Rakim? Can you make a grappling hook?¡±

    ¡°Yes Sir.¡±

    It took her all of a couple of seconds to bash some scrap rebar into the classic triple hook shape, wrap it in what felt like an excessive amount of wire, bend a loop on the other end of the rebar, tie a rope to it, and hand it to me.

    It was heavy as hell. Totally impractical, from my perspective.

    ¡°Hey Miyuki, use this tool to climb up to that watchtower over there.¡± I offered the hook and pointed. I had no idea how she would react.

    ¡°Miyuki cannot¡­ Miyuki cannot¡­¡± She looked like she was programmed to refuse it, but there was something there. Her eyes were locked on the hook and her hand kept twitching towards it.

    Gently, I reached out. Fought my screaming instincts, and put the hook in her hand. Her slim fingers wrapped around the wirebound shaft, her grip firming quickly.

    She turned towards the tower. A couple of fast swings, then she launched the hook up, catching one of the wooden walls. She was standing inside the watchtower a bare pair of seconds later. ¡°Miyuki hears the words whispered in the wind!¡±

    I collapsed, releasing a juddering laugh. They can make their own tools. They can, at least potentially, use the tools they make. We had broken the system¡¯s monopoly on gear. My mind struggled with the enormity of that thought. Other Tower Masters had built their own traps, without much success. All those stakes I had jammed into the ground was another sort of summons made tool. This felt different.

    Both those examples were Tower Masters building defenses that worked on Monsters. It was the Awakened Souls who manufactured them, but it was the monsters who were the, for lack of a better term, end users. Rakim had made equipment for her fellow summons. She gave Miyuki a capability she didn¡¯t have before. And Rakim didn¡¯t spend a single rune bone to do it. We didn¡¯t have to go to the armory, level Miyuki up, evolve her, nothing.

    Miyuki could use the grappling hook, because whoever she once was, that person used grappling hooks. It was part of her ninja skill set, and one that hadn¡¯t been deleted by her programming. Miyuki, my Two Star former-darling, was running her very own exploit.

    I laughed my damn head off, until the countdown started.

 Chapter 52- Earned It

    The night sky crackled and writhed with red lightning. I had the sudden feeling that I was watching blood veins throbbing on a black eyeball, like I was looking up from the inside of the eye and now the sky was bloodshot. Blotting out the moon was the number 9. Then 8. Then 7. The temperature dropped sharply. Winds, gale force winds, bent tall trees like a demon¡¯s hand running over moss.

    ¡°MIKA KILL THAT MONSTER RIGHT NOW!¡±

    I didn¡¯t hear her bark, but-

    WAVE 5- COMPLETE!

    And the sky was beautiful and clear once more. Happy little clouds adding a romantic touch to that giant moon.

    I looked around at the massively expanded fortifications, the bloody remains of the dissected monsters. The flayed hides of the Murder Baboons. My new watch towers. The distinctly unpleasant grin Versai was sporting.

    ¡°The sixth day is in for a nasty time.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master. I do believe it is.¡±

    ¡°Busy day today. Ready to finish up our business in the Floating Quarter?¡±

    ¡°Finish up? We already explored all the buildings.¡± Versai cocked her head to the side. I blinked. For a moment there, I hadn¡¯t seen her shattering beauty. She had just looked like Versai. She wasn¡¯t any less pretty. The pretty just didn¡¯t intrude the way it had before. Strange world.

    I started to turn back in, when a burst of color and light flashed across the sky. I ducked flat, hearing the crack and BOOM! Then a lingering crackle. There were more blasts, more flashes of light and color. I risked a peek over the battlements- I wasn¡¯t hearing impacts so just where-

    Fireworks. There were fireworks filling the western sky. Golden sparkles dripped from the sky like weeping willows, green Saturns burst next to blue stars and purple comets. Multi-colored peonies and palms and shocking white flames that danced like fish and swarmed like bees chased across the stars and fought with the Moon for glory. It was beautiful. I watched, not sure what I was feeling.

    ¡°Tower Master, is that music?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Don¡¯t recognize it, though.¡±

    Sounded like it was trying to be hype. The show built to a crescendo, with brilliant explosions and thundering blasts everywhere. I looked around. Maria was curled up on the ground, her hand clenched around her head, Pammy fussing over her. I could see Maria trying to scream, to make the noise stop. Radz was the opposite, watching and yearning.

    At the peak of the music, there was a burst of white and gold starbursts, a rattling thunder of explosions, and the words ¡°PERFECT START!¡± were etched in the sky. A shower of stardust fell on me. Looked like it should have landed on my summons too, but it didn¡¯t. Just me. Just the special one.

    I was quite certain I hated the devs before, but this felt like a deeper, richer hatred. Looks like I unlocked a new hate-tier. A sort of inverse relationship system. Devs were grinding for nega-rep very, very efficiently.

    One of the falling specks of gold came to a stop in front of me, and slowly flashed. I tapped it. Numb. I felt numb. I didn¡¯t even sigh.

    Platinum Achievement Unlocked- Perfect Start. Complete the first five waves without losing any Awakened Souls, taking damage yourself, or allowing monsters into the Tower. Hidden Requirement- Defeat the Monster Alpha.

    Reward: Deluxe Tower Masters Quarters unlocked, Deluxe Awakened Souls Dormitories unlocked, unique Throne Room decoration, unique throne, permanent +3 to relationship growth with Six Star Awakened Souls, permanent +5 favorability in dialog checks with Tower aligned NPC¡¯s.

    Well. That all sounded excellent. Guess the relationship system was going to unlock on the sixth day. I should be happy about that. About all of this. Right now, I feel numb. NPC¡¯s. Non Player Character. What a slap to the face.

    A thin flame of rage started melting through the numbness. I felt my lips wrenching back and up. Bearing my teeth. Yes. The Awakened Souls, Sebastian, Daphnae, even Jim and his monstrous sons, were non player characters. They weren''t playing at all. Me?

    I love games. Yeah. Let¡¯s play.

    ¡°Advance to Day Six.¡±

    I was walking into my lavishly decorated, perfectly repaired Throne Room when I happened upon a pair of socks. And not just any socks! No, these were powder blue, thick as a tollbooth collector and softer than a freshly laundered puppy. They weren¡¯t very big, so I knew they weren''t mine. Who could they possibly belong to?

    ¡°Tower Master, have you seen- GASP!¡± Versai said.

    She didn¡¯t gasp she said gasp what the actual-

    ¡°Oh, are these yours?¡± I held up the socks.

    She blushed furiously, the first time I had seen her blush. She turned and pouted.

    Wait since when can a bloodless doll blush am i in a cutscene i¡¯m in a goddamn cutscene you filthy-

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°Versai¡­¡±

    ¡°They are definitely not my favorite socks!¡± She crossed her arm and refused to look at me.

    Oh god it''s straight from her character sheet i bet you i find or can buy a cool jelly dessert soon

    ¡°Versai, It¡¯s fine. I like comfy socks too.¡± I smiled.

    ¡°Good. You can wear them then.¡±

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Versai¡­¡±

    ¡°They aren¡¯t my socks!¡± She fled from the Throne Rom. Sigh. What am I going to do with this girl?

    I collapsed on the ground gasping. ¡°Jesus Fancy Fiesta Christ on a boogie board!¡±

    Versai came rushing into the room, sword in hand, looking around. ¡°Tower Master, what was that?! Is this some kind of new monster attack?¡±

    ¡°Worse. The Devs.¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°It was a thrice-damned cutscene!¡±

    ¡°Pardon? I know you are saying words, but somehow, I¡¯m just not hearing them.¡±

    Jammed. They were jamming her. They weren¡¯t even being consistent on letting her know how much of this world was a game. She knew she had a character sheet for God¡¯s sake!

    I screamed. This should be a good moment, and the devs were ruining it! Ruining the ¡°triumph¡± they had arranged for me. I was frustrated! What could I do but scream?

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Not your fault. Not your fault at all.¡±

    ¡°No. It isn¡¯t. I know it isn¡¯t. But I still would like to know why you are screaming, and what just happened.¡±

    ¡°And people in Hell want ice water. Wanna drink?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m¡­ ah. Got it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Short version? We just unlocked the relationship system. Except, to my unspeakable frustration, there is apparently a scripted storyline to the system, so I can¡¯t know for sure if any of the things we have experienced together affects it at all.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ think I follow you.¡±

    ¡°Quick test- what do you think about me?¡±

    ¡°You are the best Tower Master I have ever worked for, bar none, and one of the most decent people I have worked for. Even if you are blatantly a weirdo and the way you look at some of the summons makes me wonder when it¡¯s going to be window time. I¡¯ll feel bad about it, though.¡±

    I smiled, and I could feel it reaching all the way down to my heart.

    It took me a couple of minutes to gather myself. Versai looked kind of worried, but stayed quiet while just being around. Arguably the nicest thing someone has done for me in the last ten or so years.

    ¡°I appreciate you. I don¡¯t think I have said that, but, I appreciate the hell out of you. I¡¯m glad you were my first summons. Really. Thank you for everything.¡±

    ¡°My duty, Tower Master. Thank you for not getting me killed doing dumb things.¡±

    ¡°I damn near got you killed on the last wave.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Idea wasn¡¯t dumb though.¡± She shook her head. ¡°It worked. Your crazy ideas are, in fact, working. So. You know. Quit moping and get on with things.¡±

    ¡°All my fond feelings, ignored.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not ignoring them, okay? I¡¯m not. I¡¯m just- you said that there was more to do in the Floating Quarter?¡±

    ¡°Mmmhmmm. At least one more big job. We need to rescue Madame.¡±

    ¡°Who¡­ wait, her?!¡±

    ¡°Yes? Well the mission is to find out the truth of what happened in the Floating Quarter, which I¡¯m guessing will involve a giant battle, but the reward is she joins us as a Six Star called Carousel.¡±

    ¡°Her. Madame. Title and occupation rolled into one.¡±

    ¡°If you know her real name, I¡¯m all ears.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s¡­ blast it, it will come to me.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Sure. Until that happy day, though.¡±

    ¡°But really, her? Does it have to be her? Could you get a random other Six Star? Never worked with another functioning brain, no offense, but I would really, really prefer anyone other than her. Pretty literally anyone.¡±

    ¡°Eh? You two have a history together? I got the impression you hadn¡¯t really spent any time in the Floating Quarter.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡±

    There was a long silence. Which I eventually broke. ¡°So why?¡±

    ¡°I DON''T want to talk about it.¡±

    I buried my face in my hands, and started to laugh. What else could I possibly do?

    ¡°Did she have¡­ going to say ¡°conjugal relations¡± with one of your relatives?¡±

    ¡°Fun fact about my country- suggesting that a noble was unfaithful to their spouse has an automatic minimum penalty of five years labor in the lead mines, adjusted sharply upwards based on the number of social ranks between the noble and the alleged source of calamity, multiplied by the number of ranks between the defamer and the defamed. Defamation of a noble is a serious offense.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t defamation if it¡¯s true.¡±

    ¡°What kind of horrible place are you from? It¡¯s worse if it¡¯s true.¡±

    Isn¡¯t it fun learning about other cultures?

    ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s go see what the rewards look like. Oh, and do you want your-¡± I patted my storage pouch. The socks were gone.

    ¡°I mean, it¡¯s an improvement.¡±

    ¡°In the sense that one is more than zero, yes.¡± I agreed. Ish.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t exactly my taste, but then, different cultures like different things. Or so I¡¯m told.¡± Versai was really putting in an effort to put a positive spin on things.

    ¡°It is comfortable. I must say it is very comfortable.¡±

    ¡°Comfortable is a rare thing in thrones. None of the thrones I have ever seen were comfortable. Basic cushion was the best you could hope for.¡±

    ¡°Very smooth action to it. And the color is¡­ tasteful? Maybe? My taste in decor is highly refined, and I am dedicated to a particular aesthetic. I can¡¯t tell if this is good or not.¡±

    ¡°You have no taste?¡±

    ¡°I have highly refined tastes. Which makes everything else seem bland.¡± I said, trying to scrabble back some dignity.

    ¡°That bad, huh?¡±

    I dingnityied that away and ignored the critique. Anyone without a minimum of four body pillows is unfit to judge me. I settled deeper into my throne. It really was very comfortable, once you got past the whole everything.

    ¡°The new decoration is, I think, very charming. I don¡¯t know what it is, though.¡± She pointed at the statue.

    ¡°A dog. Dogs are-¡±

    ¡°Are you seriously about to explain to a border noble who grew up hunting what a dog is? Seriously?¡± Versai gave me so much side eye, I doubt she will ever see straight again.

    ¡°You were the one who didn¡¯t recognize it.¡±

    ¡°In what world is that a dog? What horrible things happened to it that somehow, it turned out like that?¡±

    ¡°Dunno. Decades of selective breeding? A century? I don¡¯t know how long it takes.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s awful. It¡¯s all¡­ weird. The proportions are all wrong for it to be a dog.¡±

    ¡°No, really. They are yappy little devils, but for some reason, little old ladies can¡¯t get enough of them.¡±

    ¡°You come from a nightmare country. This must seem like paradise to you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d bet money that my townie self lived more comfortably than a noble in your nightmare country did.¡±

    It seemed appropriate to bicker. Reclining as I was in my well padded, oversized reclining chair, upholstered in a soft microfiber dyed vivid canary yellow and turquoise, with the words ¡°TOWER MASTER¡± stitched in neon purple across the headrest. Admiring my wonderful reward. A solid gold statue of a dachshund.

 Chapter 53- Piping Hot, Fresh From The Oven

    The dachshund appeared to be running. His ears had flapped upwards, a derpy grin of doggy joy on his face. Tiny little legs flying forward and backward as he seemed poised to leap off his plinth.

    Unique Throne Room decoration: The Snoot of Joy. #4 of the Supreme Beasts Decoration Set.

    No buffs. No unique bonuses. Just decor. It was a nice statue. I leaned back on my throne, and the footrest came up automatically. No cup holders, massage function or built-in refrigerator, but it was very comfortable. It would be a great napping chair, if I could sleep. It did make admiring my new statue very comfortable and easy.

    ¡°I have to say, I¡¯m not comfortable or at all at ease watching someone recline on a throne like that.¡± Versai looked disapproving. ¡°It¡¯s like you are diminishing the concept of thrones. What they are supposed to do, I mean.¡±

    ¡°What are they supposed to do?¡±

    ¡°Remind everyone that the person sitting on it is in charge.¡±

    ¡°Anyone in this Tower capable of forgetting that fact?¡±

    Versai was silent. Then, ¡°I¡¯m just saying, it isn¡¯t right. It should be regal.¡±

    I wriggled. Deep, deep cushions. At last. Foam.

    ¡°Look, your country was a feudal monarchy, right?¡±

    ¡°What else could it be?¡±

    ¡°Leaving that aside for¡­ a very long time¡­ the point is that you are running a for-profit enterprise. The King, Queen, whatever, earns off their private estates and taxes. They then subcontract out management to nobles, who are given permission to earn off their territories and kick back money and troops to the Crown. Then they subcontract, and so on, all the way down to serfs. Who have a plot of land to farm and keep themselves alive with, in exchange for handing over part of their crops as rent.¡±

    Can I just get a big shoutout for Spice and Wolf, as well as Maoyuu Maou Yuusha? Just super educational shows, and cute as a button.

    ¡°We abolished serfdom two hundred years ago, but¡­ sure. That is an incredibly crude description of a system that runs a nation of three million people.¡±

    ¡°Kind of my point. You have this whole elaborate system of relationships, obligations, economic connections, I¡¯m sure religion is in there somewhere, all to make sure that everyone up the pyramid gets money and power, and the people at the bottom get to eat and their house doesn¡¯t burn down with them in it.¡±

    I waved around. ¡°I don¡¯t have any of that. Or need it. Because this world is organized on some very cursed principals, none of which allow rebellion unless I actively betray you or the other summons. So¡­ what¡¯s the point of looking regal?¡±

    Versai was quiet for a long while after that. I didn¡¯t make her dwell on it. I pushed the footrest down with a metallic twang and got to my feet.

    ¡°Come on. We still have the wave rewards to collect, and a perfect clear reward too. Let¡¯s see what we got.¡±

    The golden chest was downright gaudy this time. Waves that end in five or zero. Catnip for developers. They just can¡¯t help themselves. I opened it, and it damn near exploded. Resource packs, rune bones, resonance crystals, all went flying. I spotted a frozen diamond, before it was lost in the flurry of furniture invoices, millinery orders and costume receipts. There were armor kits in there, as well as weapon upgrades.

    ¡°My God. We robbed a bakery.¡±

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Look at all these lootcakes! Imma get fat-boy waisted, let me tell you.¡±

    Versai arched an elegant eyebrow, then snorted. Then started chuckling. She guffawed. Didn¡¯t know women could guffaw, but Versai could. It looked good on her, obviously, but I think mostly I was just happy I made her laugh.

    ¡°I have no idea what any of that means, but I know what you mean. Amazing. Just. Amazing.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s check the perfect clear reward.¡±

    I tapped the little glowing medallion. Number five of five, I¡¯m proud to say. Wave #5, zero casualties, zero monsters in the tower. Reward: All ranged units, +1% Speed When Attacking.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that¡­ exactly the same as the Wave One perfect clear reward?¡± I leaned over and tapped the little glowing medallion. ¡°It is.¡±

    We shared a speculative look. ¡°One percent remains a¡­ not spectacular number.¡± Versai kept her voice conversational.

    ¡°True. Two percent isn¡¯t going to blow off your comfy socks either.¡±

    Her lips twitched, but she pressed on. ¡°However, a repeating reward is interesting. At one and five, no less.¡±

    ¡°Makes you wonder what happens at ten, fifteen and twenty, for example.¡±

    She nodded along. ¡°Not that this proves anything.¡±

    ¡°Could be randomly generated rewards from a small list, sure. Once is an accident, twice a coincidence.¡±

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Three times a pattern?¡±

    ¡°Three times is enemy action.¡± My voice was severe. Then I relented. ¡°It is also a pattern.¡±

    That got me another snort. ¡°How many resonance crystals do you have?¡±

    ¡°Fifty. Not enough for another summons, but we can take a look at the missions. Should get a daily login reward, plus missions, but it won¡¯t be enough to get us to one hundred.¡±

    ¡°You sound pretty sure of that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°I thought Five was supposed to be special?¡±

    ¡°It is. They are giving me a lot. Unlocking a lot of things. They already introduced a new monster type in the last couple of waves. They don¡¯t want me distracted any further. They want me to ooh and aaah over the unlockable cosmetic items.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t really understand all that, but okay. What are you going to do?¡±

    ¡°Ooh and aaah over the cosmetic items, obviously! I have new quarters, and you guys got luxury dorms. Let¡¯s check them out.¡±

    I checked out the dorms first, for the simple reason that I have a load of furniture orders for it. And I love playing dress up with my doll¡­ my tasteful and surprisingly expensive figurines.

    Don¡¯t you judge me. You watch sports.

    I went down the stairs. Map room. Hall of Records. And¡­ a new door opened. ¡°Dormitories. Creative.¡±

    ¡°What else would you call it?¡± Versai shrugged.

    Valid. I shrugged back and went in. Then came out again.

    ¡°If my fancy new quarters are anything less than epic, I¡¯m going to riot.¡±

    ¡°That nice?¡±

    ¡°Come see for yourself. This is outrageous. How am I to oppress the masses tyrannically from my foam filled throne of blood if they are living this well?¡±

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Regality, Versai, Regal attitude and bearing. One must be seen to be above, for the masses to believe them to be above. I wouldn¡¯t expect you to understand. You don¡¯t have a throne. But it matters.¡±

    Ignoring her outraged sputtering, I returned to what I assumed to be the common room for the Awakened Souls dorm. It had sofas. Comfortable, deep sofas. Some had that extension where you are plainly invited to put your feet up and relax. Little coffee tables dotted the room, while creeping vines and potted plants leant a charming green accent and sweetened the air.

    What killed me was the windows. They had actual, fully repaired, beautifully ornate, windows. Gothic, I think. I¡¯m not an architecture guy. They looked really fancy in a medieval kind of way, not a swirly French way.

    Adding insult to injury was the condition of the rest of the room. The walls were fully repaired, plastered and painted a sparkling eggshell. The floor was smooth, tightly fitted flagstones. There was even a chandelier. Gilt, I hoped, or that much gold and crystal would really hurt someone if it fell.

    My Throne Room, on the other hand, still looked like a low-budget field trip destination for rural English kids. Holes for days. Holes where there should be fancy gothic windows. Holes in the floor. Plaster? Plaster isn¡¯t even a dream for my Throne Room, let alone an extravagance like paint.

    ¡°Oppression. I must oppress them. Crushing taxes for everyone!¡±

    ¡°You have to pay us before you can tax our earnings, Tower Master.¡± Versai was not helpful.

    ¡°Is that the faintest wisp of class solidarity I¡¯m hearing, Versai?¡±

    ¡°Of course. I am utterly loyal to my fellow nobles. And the Crown. Naturally.¡±

    There was something there, but I wasn¡¯t going to investigate it just yet. I walked deeper into the dorm. The bedrooms were small, but tasteful. The summons each got their own room. The notice did say they were deluxe. Full size beds. Nice. Simple, but nice.

    Very blank slate. Perfect for decorating.

    ¡°Do you have your own room?¡± I asked Versai.

    ¡°No, or at least, not so¡­ oh! Look at that!¡± She pointed excitedly at a door with six stars over it. The door frame was covered in copper and gold tracery, giving it the feeling of a mystic portal.

    It opened to a tiny paradise. It looked like an indoor garden, with a glass roof and a glass sided wall, filled with tropical flowering plants and small garden tables. Little benches were set in hidden nooks, empty plinths waiting for statues or vases. There was a fountain. Of course there was a fountain. I was mentally prepared for the fountain. It was the darting goldfish in the fountain that low-key broke me.

    There were doors leading off the garden. Do I have to mention this completely ignored the size and exterior of the tower? The Tower is, in fact, a TARDIS. Fantastic. I spotted Versai¡¯s name over one of the doors.

    ¡°Looks like rank still has its privileges. Let¡¯s check out your room.¡±

    ¡°Inviting a man into my rooms? We aren¡¯t on that good terms!¡± She flared up, her hand dropping to her sword. I backed up, hands in the air.

    ¡°Woa! I just wanted to see what it looked like.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    There was no further elaboration, but she didn¡¯t take her hand off the sword. I knew scripted behavior when I saw it.

    ¡°Alright, easy, easy. I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean anything by it. Go, hang out. I¡¯ll explore the rest on my own.

    She nodded stiffly. Then a screen popped up. Assign Versai to Dorms? 20% damage healed per order-time while resting. Buff to Damage and Defense of 10% per order-time. Buff to XP gain 5% per order-time. All bonuses reset at the start of the next day.

    I blinked. I made my way over to the edge of the fountain and collapsed on it, staring at the sign. Rooms. The tower was unlocking rooms that provided buffs. In the future, would there be manufacturing rooms? Farming? It had been a while since I checked the garden outside. What were the odds that I could buy a vase, and put fresh cut flowers in the dorm for a bonus to some effect?

    This was¡­ the other part of the game opening up. I was working on exploits and game breaking strats. The game, on the other hand, was going to start dumping mechanics and rooms on me. The idea is that you always have something to do. There will always be things to improve and optimize. Grinding for a dozen different things. Never quite having enough to do more than one or two items on your list.

    It was all to get you to buy the resource packs for real money, of course.

    Fifty thousand runed bones, five hundred frozen diamonds and fifty units of Unobtainium? Special discount, this week only, a hundred bucks! But wait! If you buy the VIP monthly subscription, you will get a bonus five Purple-Gold Stone Tapes, absolutely free. Upgrade your monthly VIP subscription to unlock even more rewards. VIP EXP accumulates with every purchase!

    Yeah, no thanks. My whole business model relies on people that think they are good at math, while being terminally short on logic. I¡¯mma pass on the whale action.

    I had lots of things to do around the Tower before I went out to Gradden March. It would probably be order¡­ three or something. ¡°Hey Versai? Special present from the bestest Tower Master ever.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Her voice was correctly wary.

    ¡°Time off. You are free for the next order-time. Hang out here.¡± I tapped the OKAY button. For the first time in who knows how many loops, Versai got to rest.

 Chapter 54- Exquisite Taste

    Problem- I don¡¯t know where my personal quarters are. My first guess was off the Throne Room somewhere, but it wasn¡¯t. Nor was it on its own floor, which seemed like a reasonable next guess. Wasn¡¯t pinned to a notice board, nor did some item randomly appear in my inventory that might be a key. I knew it had to be in the Tower somewhere, as the announcement said it was unlocked. But, despite the limited size of the Tower, I wasn¡¯t able to find it.

    ¡°Rache!¡±  She was doing donuts in the killing field. She would do it indefinitely if you let her- it was an idle animation.

    ¡°Yes boss?¡±

    ¡°If I ask you to find something in the Tower, would it take an order?¡±

    There was a moment¡¯s pause. You could practically hear the hamster running furiously in his wheel, trying to power the Casio-watch-tier processor One Stars had to work with.

    ¡°In the Tower?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Finding a room in the Tower.¡±

    ¡°Reckon that don¡¯t need an order, Boss.¡±

    ¡°Fantastic. Find the Tower Master¡¯s Quarters. Right now. Please and thank you.¡±

    She went racing off. Was it next to the Summons¡¯ dorms? I didn¡¯t see any when I was looking around with Versai.

    ¡°Found it, Boss.¡± I jumped. I swear she had been gone for barely a minute.

    ¡°Great! Thank you! I think I¡¯m going to have you wear a bell. Ah, where is it?¡±

    She led me to the Map Room. Which remained beautiful and impossible. Just two short flights of stairs down from the Throne Room, but the ceiling was higher up than I could throw a rock. Once more, the illusion of a moonless night was perfect. Alien stars twinkled above, as the desert sands surrounded the immensely long table marking out the limits of our world.

    The area around the Tower that we had managed to explore was so, so small. Yet the map was so vast. I could see mighty mountains rising at the far western edge of the table. They would take tens, maybe even hundreds, of units of order-time to reach. What were they for? What was any of this for?

    Rache didn¡¯t care. Didn¡¯t even glance at the table. She led me straight past the mountains, around a sand dune, then gave me a half smile.

    ¡°Got yourself a nice little watering hole, Boss. Anything else you need?¡±

    ¡°No, thank you.¡± I¡¯m not quite sure how I sounded. It was a house. An actual, free standing, house. On one floor, in a Tower, behind a sand dune.

    How did it look? Not like a king''s house, for one thing. Or a Tower Master¡¯s, for another.

    There was a low wall, boxing in a small house with a little courtyard. If the wall was a perfect square, the house took up almost all the top and left side, while the bottom and right side were left mostly empty. There was a big clay something-or-other sitting in the corner of the empty space. It looked sort of like a bee hive, or maybe an upside down tea cup with no handles and three holes in it.

    The house itself was simple looking. It was one story tall, made from smooth white earth. Didn¡¯t look like concrete, but it might have been plastered-over brick or stone. A flight of steps ran from the bottom left corner of the square up onto the flat roof. There was an awning up there, ready to shade me from a sun that would never rise and rain that would never fall.

    I pushed open the wooden gate and walked into the courtyard. There were short trees growing in the courtyard. I didn¡¯t recognize the species. Nor did I know the names of the flowers in the clay baskets hanging off the roof. They were greens and purples that seemed to glow under the stars. Maybe one day I would find out what they were called.

    Two wooden doors connected the house and the yard. I pushed open one, and walked into the most expensively decorated not-much I have ever seen. Low wooden tables, a few shelves, one or two chairs tucked out of the way. Rugs woven from reeds. It should have felt like poverty. Instead, it reeked of money.

    The wood. My god. The wood. Some rare thing, hand rubbed with oil and shimmering gold in the light of oil lamps. I could faintly smell cedar and something else, something slightly sweet and slightly musky. The shelves glimmered and highlighted the rolled scrolls, the beautifully painted vases, and drew a brilliant line under the murals and wall hanging.

    I drifted through this achingly beautiful place, almost bouncing from wall to wall. The bedroom took up half the house. The bed was strangely designed- the head was raised slightly above the feet. There was a footboard, a vital necessity I suspect. The headboard was covered with carvings of animals, inlaid with mother of pearl and silver wire. It was all just so beautiful.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    There were two chairs and a dresser, a small table to put things on, and that was it for the bedroom. Huge space, but mostly empty space. Like all that emptiness made you focus on the beautiful furniture.

    There was a tub, but no bathroom. It was just set to one side of the bedroom. Not even a fireplace, or water source. Just a big white tub, made of something that felt somewhat like marble and somewhat like bone. Maybe there was a well around back or something. I¡¯d look.

    No soaps or shampoos. No towels. The mattress had linens and a thin blanket, but inexplicably, no pillows. I went over to the scrolls. I figured they would be like the books at Sebastian¡¯s place- pure props. I damn near dropped one when it unrolled. I didn¡¯t recognize the language, but the artwork was¡­ beautiful. I don¡¯t know, it was flat, 2-D, the colors popped, and even if everyones¡¯ face looked kinda samey and weird, well, that was just normal for me.

    No handy translation guides anywhere, naturally.

    I sat on the ground next to one of the low tables. There were little rugs around it, clearly for sitting on. I took out the furniture packs that I had looted. They were things like tables, wall art, some potted plants, chairs, barstools, that kind of thing.

    Not a single damn thing fit. None of it. With the possible exception of the potted plants, everything else would clash horribly.

    I had a little scout around. There was, in fact, no well. No water source at all. Maybe it unlocked later. The summons got a fountain. It wasn¡¯t impossible. Theirs even had little fish in it. The first animals in the whole damn game other than the monsters.

    Probably golem fish haunted by the ghosts of actual fish. Because the devs gonna dev. ¡°Put real fish in the game? Are you insane? Do you know what that would cost? I¡¯m not made of fish! Now go summon up a few thousand mutilated souls, daddy wants to play dress up with his favoritest dollies.¡±

    I walked out of the house again, and looked around the courtyard. The trees worked perfectly with the desert environment. The whole thing worked perfectly. It wasn¡¯t a king¡¯s house, but it clearly had belonged to some influential person. People didn¡¯t read much in the past, right? Maybe the house belonged to a priest or something.

    I poked at the upside-down teacup looking thing. There was a round hole at the top with a lip on it, a semi-circle shaped hole on the front, and another, smaller semicircle hole at ground level.  It was squeaky clean inside, with not so much as blown sand within.

    I stepped back and tried to think what it could be. All that came to mind was ¡®outdoor woodfired pizza oven¡¯ but that was obviously ridiculous. Maybe one of the summons would know.

    It was restful. Not just peaceful, but restful. I didn¡¯t see any functions pop up as I moved around the space. Right now, it seemed purely decorative. It wasn¡¯t like anywhere I had ever lived before. It wasn¡¯t familiar. It wasn¡¯t particularly comfortable.

    I wouldn¡¯t change a thing about it¡­ with the exception of my body pillows. They would look wrong in that space, totally wrong. But that bed looked awfully cold and lonely. Having someone to hug while I pretended to sleep would be really nice. It was beautiful. But very lonely.

    I went through the various loot. Maria got a little nurse cap, and I had one for Pammy already, so on they went. The two had a cute little animation when they saw each other. They both did a big ¡°Yay!¡± then hugged and giggled. That was about it. Now they could do it with hats.

    Rache got a new costume, though I noticed this card had neither a metallic border or a heartbreaking backstory. It also had comparatively trash stat bonuses. On the other hand, ¡°Desperado¡± costume Rache was just *mwah*, chef¡¯s kiss with the red scarf hanging around her black leather biker/Fetish Ball costume. The +7 Attack, +5 Vision was just a tasty mochi on top.

    Was there a Vision stat on her character sheet before she got the costume? No. Was there one after? Also no. Explanation? No. Sick cowboy boots and a nasty looking tooled leather sword belt for her saber? Yes.

    Done deal, Rache is ready to ride.

    I was jammed up on the furniture orders for a moment. Usually, games present the dorms as being utterly terrible, to encourage you to decorate. Getting them pre-decorated really nicely kind of took some of the fun out of it. I¡¯d just have to see what could be done. I stuck a bunch of potted plants in the Throne Room. They weren¡¯t in the most aesthetic locations, but I was tired at looking at the holes where my floor should be.

    The resource packs were an¡­ interesting strategic challenge. No barbed wire, unfortunately, though there was concrete, iron stock, rebar, metal fasteners, and the like. The question was, do I use it at all during the day?

    It was a surprisingly agonizing choice. On the one hand, no, obviously I should use my post-wave free time to do everything possible within the summons¡¯ range of the Tower, and use order time to have them explore, raid the dungeon, and rest up in the dorm. On the other hand, it would mean going into a wave knowing I deliberately had not done everything I could to get through the wave without anyone dying.

    Moe comes from the Japanese word moeru, which means to burn, or to get excited about something (ie ¡°fired up¡± about it.) ¡°My heart burns for you, darling Cecilia.¡± Except, Japan being Japan and otakus being otakus, moe doesn¡¯t mean just that. It means to develop those strong feelings for something that is real, but not tangible.

    Yes, I say real. Your favorite character may be too pure for the corrupt 3-D world, but that doesn¡¯t make them any less real. You have seen them. You heard them talk. They live in your mind as truly as the cashier at the convenience store, or that kid you remember from sixth grade. Except you actually care about them. Because they are real, and your feelings are real, and all of a sudden, you have a connection to another person that feels rewarding.

    You aren¡¯t alone.

    No general or king ever won a long war without a single casualty. Still, I aimed to do just that. So. Balancing everything, what is the best choice? What is the best chance to get all of us out alive? Me, and my beloved poseable figurines.

 Chapter 55- Order of Operations

    First things first, I had to clear out my stockpile of stuff. I had gotten some beautiful lootcakes, and everyone was going to get a slice. Pomoroi and Radz especially, as they each got a weapon upgrade and three Stone Tapes. I had some hopes for a significant improvement in performance, but we would see.

    Miyuki, despite my misgivings about her yandere tendencies, had to get every Stone Tape I could spare. She was my number one anti-infiltration unit. Just couldn¡¯t be spared. I didn¡¯t quite manage to hit her level cap, annoyingly. It seemed that Two Stars had a significantly higher promotional threshold than One Stars. I shuddered to think what it would take to level Versai. There had to be something beyond Stone Tapes. Otherwise she would need more than a hundred, maybe even a couple hundred, to hit her level cap.

    Still no weapon or armor upgrades for medics. That was a little alarming. I could buy some from the Armory, but the notion of spending currency on trash tier equipment really did not appeal. Not when the Mutilator 3K could kill stealthed units, and they only lasted for one wave.

    On the plus side, my income was way up thanks to the increased number of monsters. The stealthed guys dropped almost no materials, but they were very generous with their Runed Bones.

    On the down side, buying an expensive consumable for every wave sounded like a very efficient way to die. If I was relying on the inconsistently stocked Gnome Market for my anti-stealth gear, well, that would be excessively stupid.

    I went around, handing out what I could to who I could, coming finally to the Mean Girls Quartet. I wasn¡¯t willing to invest any Stone Tapes in them, but the rewards for Wave Five included a bunch of gear that buffed Resistance for support. And despite all evidence to the contrary, the Blue Roses were support class characters.

    ¡°Hey, ladies.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± They chorused.

    I blinked. ¡°No what?¡±

    ¡°Oh my God, you can¡¯t just ask that. You have to say sorry and go away!¡± I think it was Sammi that was scolding me. Not that I intended to listen.

    ¡°No.¡± I replied.

    ¡°That¡¯s illegal.¡± Becky sneered.

    ¡°Guess you don¡¯t want loot then?¡±

    ¡°From you? Ew. No.¡±

    Great googly moogly, these women were trying me. They think that just because they are enjoying the sun on ground level, they cannot be yeeted. But they can. They can!

    Calm. Calm! I am calm. See the great ocean. Listen to the waves crashing on the shore. Imagine the beach episode. Mmm. Beach episode.

    ¡°Is he defective? I think he¡¯s broken.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but that¡¯s normal for him. This looks like a different kind of wrong.¡±

    ¡°Can¡­ can we just, I don¡¯t know, get someone to put him in a closet or something? I don¡¯t want to touch him, but it¡¯s not okay having to look at him. You know?¡±

    ¡°Ohmygod, yes! We should totally have someone else do it! That would be perfect!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯M PLANNING TO RESCUE YOUR OLD BOSS YOU MISERABLE WITCHES!¡±

    They swung around and stared at me. Something had changed behind their eyes.

    ¡°You can rescue Madame?¡±

    ¡°I believe so. I have a mission that certainly sounds like it. The final portion of the mission should take place today. And I¡¯m gambling that if I use four of my five slots on the Blue Roses, something good will unlock, or happen. You only dance for Madame, right? Which means that there is no one dancing for her now, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. The other girls did other stuff for her, but we, like, danced. We ran things for her when she was dealing with other stuff.¡± Becky¡¯s voice still had that sing-song cadence, but there was a liveliness behind her eyes.

    ¡°We were supposed to be there with her.¡±

    ¡°But we weren¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± I hadn¡¯t realized my voice had gone soft.

    ¡°Dunno.¡± They chorused.

    Looks like there were still a few mysteries left to solve in Gradden March.

    ¡°Look, take these bangles- I have one for each of you. It will make you a little stronger, a little better at support.¡± +6 each, but I didn¡¯t feel like burdening them with numbers higher than ¡®Candy!¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m going to launch the expedition on Gradden March in a couple of orders from now. You four are assigned to the dorm to rest up until then. Versai is already there.¡±

    And if the final arena looked like a straight up fight, and the four of you didn¡¯t provide the massive advantage I suspected you would, I was going to be Naruto-running out of there so fast, you couldn¡¯t even see me move. Believe it.

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    ¡°We have our own rooms? Lead with that!¡± They sauntered up the stairs. Still a joy to watch move, but it felt different now. Something in their steps, something in the way they held themselves had changed. Purpose, maybe? Or were they straining at whatever curse had sealed them into their personas?

    I knew one thing for damn certain. These were not One Star characters. They were way, way too adaptive and responsive for that. In fact, they did take initiative all the time- the initiative to heckle. They were the only summons that could refuse orders. Well, except maybe Versai. But they came through the ordinary summoning pool, so I knew perfectly well that they weren¡¯t hidden Six Stars.

    I stared at the stairs as I thought about the stars for a moment. Then I nearly bashed my brains out on the wall. ¡°DAMN!¡± I goofed. Badly. Time to see if it was at all recoverable.

    First stop- the missions. Explore, harvest timber (that would be a damn challenge) level up four characters to at least level five, improve equipment, nothing special here, I had already done most of it. As I expected, the missions only paid out rune bones and monster crafting materials. The daily login bonus gave me another ten Resonance crystals, but I was a long way from my next pull.

    Day number ten came with a character surrounded by a rainbow border. Something to look forward to, I expect.

    I checked my total number of rune bones. Seven Thousand. New record? Yeah, new record. Thank you wave five rewards, and thank you terrifying Murder Baboons, I guess. Alright, this was recoverable. Not optimal, but recoverable.

    Time to use my brain and get things properly organized. Order of operations, and all that. The addition of the Dorms changed things, radically. ¡°Mikas, Pammy, Maria, Pomoroi, Radz, Miyuki, Kim, you are assigned to the Dormitories until further notice.¡±

    I was greeted by a chorus of barks. Was there a cap on how many people could be in the dorms at one time? I was already at sixteen. Seventeen, if you included Versai. Mmm. I¡¯d have to check later, but I had a plan for everyone else. I waited a good while, until I was sure they had walked the few flights of stairs and reached the dorms.

    Then I ran up and double checked, because the last time I was this confident ordering something, I found out the hard way that when a Korean restaurant tells you a dish is really spicy, they mean ¡°Hot enough to melt Hell.¡±

    The Mikas were stuck outside the dorm, milling around. Kim was there, clearly trying to be a team player and a good sport. Good job deciding that ¡°check later¡± meant ¡°check now,¡± past me, good job.

    I have seventeen summons that I am responsible for. I, literally, did not volunteer for this. I don¡¯t want this responsibility. I don¡¯t want to give a damn about this. At least Adam Jensen got sweet augments out of it and looks like a badass. I got a doll body, tights, a slip dress and a Robin Hood hat.

    When I escape here, there will be bloodshed. Even if I have to find some blood first, pump it into those necromantic pricks, then kill ¡®em to spill the blood all over again.

    Priorities. I walked up to the door and checked the dorm sign. A little placard with spots to slide in names was on the wall. Awakened Souls Deluxe Dormitory 10/10 capacity. Six Star Solarium 1/10 Capacity.

    The occupant¡¯s names were listed below. Interesting that six stars were literally counted differently. Was it a benefit of building deluxe dorms? I had assumed it just improved the decorations and maybe the buffs, but it could be more than that. Very interesting indeed.

    I swiftly evicted Pammy and Maria, and sent in Kim and Mika Alpha. I would rotate later if needed, but right now, I think this is the best I can do. I tried to think what the next thing should be. There was a scouting mission on the board. Two hundred Runed Bones. And to fix my goof, I needed them bones. Might even use a time unit to buy more berries from the fairies, but we would have to see how much was left over.

    ¡°Rache, Orders for you- scout to the east of the Tower. Use one order time for your search.¡±

    ¡°Chromed lightning!¡± She peeled out of the clearing, looking especially dashing in her new costume. She drove directly through my murder track, avoiding the pits by driving up the walls. I think Rache has more fun living her life than anyone I have ever met.

    Working backwards, there was night and the attack, then the last order time I could use to prepare, which meant that order four should be the final raid on the Floating quarter. That would give three stacks of the rested buff to Versai and the Blue Roses, and at least four stacks for most of the others. My artillery corps should max out their buffs by nightfall. I would swap in more Mikas after I pulled out the Blue roses for our mission, giving them at least one stack of buff. Pretty good, I think.

    Out of mischief, I went back to my throne. The pleasure of looking at it and sitting in it remained in perfect inverse proportion. I was very, very comfortable indeed. I looked around the Throne Room. It was trashed. It had always been trashed. Well, abandoned and ruined might be more accurate? But the front door could be replaced by my workers. I thought it might take a Tower upgrade, but¡­ could my workers fix it? More importantly, would it provide buffs or some kind of stat benefit?

    I flipped through my resource packs. A little bit of stone. Cement. No glass. Hmm.

    I went over to the fliers pinned on the notice board. No new shops opened. Irritating, but unsurprising. I tapped on the Gnome Market.

    ¡°He he he HELLOoooo! Welcome to the Gnome Market! Special prices for special customers. See what we have on offer today!¡±

    Yep. Never going to not be awkward. I had about seven thousand Rune Bones. The Mutilator 3K was in stock (mercifully) so that was three thou down right there. No resonance crystals, I had cleared that stock before. What there was, however, was Common resource packs. Which was a big HMMM in its own right. The supply of Stone Tapes was untouched, and still absurdly plentiful. Twenty bones each.

    It really said something about how the developers viewed the star ratings. It took significantly more tapes-per-star to level, even though the Mikas and the artillery had been basically hard carrying the whole squad so far. I quickly ran down and checked the Blue Roses¡¯ character sheets. Level Ones, One Star.

    ¡®Funny¡¯ how their bio sections were left blank.

    But hey, since the devs wanted to play funny games, they could win a very funny prize.

    I made a few ¡®small¡¯ purchases at the gnome market and wiped out my cash. Insane gambler mentality, but my gamer senses were screaming at me. Now was the time to make moves.

    I summoned the work crew and the Blue Roses to the Throne Room while I started opening resource packs. I had to open five before I got lucky. Glass. Big sheets of clear glass.

    I sat comfortably while my involuntary employees mustered in front of me. ¡°Marci, Rakim, can you repair my Throne Room with the materials you have here?¡±

    They traded looks. ¡°Yes. Won¡¯t be fancy, but it¡¯ll be fixed. One order.¡± I fought down the urge to do a fist pump. Regality. Always regality!

    ¡°Blue Roses, kindly help yourself to some Stone Tapes. Keep using them until you hit your max level.¡± I had spent every spare bone I had on this. ¡°Once you are done, return to the dorms and wait. Workers, once they are in the dorms, start the repairs.¡±

    I smiled. Oh yes. Time to really spread the suffering upwards. Next stop Gradden March and Carousel (Six Stars.)

 Chapter 56- Vendor Management in the Floating Quarter

    We stood at the top of the street and looked down into the bonfire of the Floating Quarter. The squalid horror and brutality of it. The fierce pride and the vibrant life of it. The Floating Quarter wasn¡¯t someplace where sophisticated people gazed at things with detached disinterest. It surely wasn¡¯t a life lived without regrets. It was a place that said ¡°We can¡¯t fix what ails you, but for a little while, you can find comfort here. Whatever that means to you.¡±

    And now it was on fire. It had always been on fire. It always would be on fire. It¡¯s homes, people, dreams, burning. Forever. Unless we changed something. I have no idea if we can change this place permanently.

    ¡°That¡­ wasn¡¯t there before. None of that was there before.¡± Versai sounded unsteady. I don¡¯t blame her. We might not change this place permanently-

    ¡°Told you it was the boss arena.¡±

    But we changed it for right now.

    The street had been cramped, narrow. Two burning (but accessible) buildings on the left, one on the right. Everything else had been a freeze frame of charred misery. Now, the street has opened up. Instead of being blocked by rubble, it stretched out another block and a half behind us. A barricade stretched the width of the street up ahead, and just before that, a shimmering barrier of light. Even the street was wider, much wider. Two lane highway wide.

    Standing just to the side of the road, behind a little table was a short, stocky man who¡¯s name should be Merchant A, but knowing the devs, won¡¯t be that creative. I smelled a black robed rat, or his evil cousin.

    I walked closer to the barrier. I was not surprised to see a notice pop up.

    Ruin Site- The Floating Quarter of Gradden March

    The people of the Floating Quarter put up a heroic resistance to the monsters. It cost them everything. Nevertheless, their furious resistance allowed thousands of other humans to live for weeks, months, even years longer. Their courage lit a flame that shines on even when their world fell dark.

    Tower Master, you must rescue the Floating Quarter of Gradden March! Defeat the waves of monsters before they break through the final barricade and begin their slaughter.

    You will be aided by locals who will fight¡­ for a price. You may also summon your Awakened Souls¡­ also for a price. Your party doesn¡¯t fight for free either, but you only get paid if you win. In the Floating Quarter, nothing is free, and secrets fill the shadows. There are opportunities here, and hidden dangers too. The Merchant Osian may know more that would help you.

    I looked over at the beaming merchant. Then over at the giant wall of light. Then down the block at the¡­ everything¡­ that was also on fire. There was a literal horde of monsters about to come pounding down the street, and this¡­ entrepreneur was trying to hustle me. Adorable.

    ¡°Goooood afternoon, valued customers! I am the merchant Osian and may I say that I have never seen such handsome, beautiful, intelligent customers as yourself?¡±

    ¡°You may.¡± I nodded graciously. He chuckled warmly. I tried to keep my eyes from narrowing. Merchant NPCs, with the sensuous exception of Hattie, had less brains than a parakeet. Which meant that Osian wasn¡¯t just a merchant.

    ¡°What can you tell me about the battle?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s terrible, terrible. The Home Guard couldn¡¯t hold back the monsters at all. Now they are raging through the lower city. Some absolute ne¡¯er-do-wells scattered hay soaked with pitch across roofs through the whole lower town, and once people started running from the monsters, well, they lit the hay on fire. The whole city is burning.¡±

    Versai shoved forward. ¡°They did what?¡±

    ¡°The whole city is burning. Well. The lower town, technically. And even then, it¡¯s mostly the west side, where the monsters are coming from. But you know what fire is like. It¡¯s spreading. The upper town will be fine, with its walls and spell towers, but the lower town will be ash by this time tomorrow.¡±

    Was there a little glimmer in his eye? A surviving memory, maybe. Or maybe there was just a little extra programming in there. A little something for the keen eyed and laterally thinking.

    ¡°We are going to help defend the Quarter. Is there anything you can do to help?¡± I said.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s wonderful! Rumor has it that the Home Guard is reforming and will deploy to plug the breach here. With only one spot to defend, they won¡¯t get overwhelmed like they did on the walls. They will slaughter the monsters!¡±

    Sure. Sure, that sounds likely. Still, I can recognize a victory condition when I hear it.

    ¡°And your help?¡±

    ¡°Ah, I am a merchant, my friend! I can provide many barricade making materials, healing potions, and other good things. My prices are very reasonable.¡±

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    ¡°I¡¯m sure. How many guilders per¡­ lets say a healing potion?¡±

    ¡°My friend, you wound me! In these desperate times, how could I ask for guilders? No, I want to help the monster killers! I will swap these valuable, precious goods for the worthless Runed Bones you can harvest from monster corpses.¡±

    I admired that statement for a moment. If I was your generic Protag-kun, I might even have believed it. He did look terribly earnest. Unfortunately, my customer base was a 75%-25% split between ¡®smart¡¯ small investors and their predators.

    ¡°I see. Very generous indeed. Any special offers?¡±

    He looked a little shifty. ¡°Well. This is the Floating Quarter. Things are what they are. I may have a little something that is less than strictly legal available. For a price.¡±

    ¡°No. You don¡¯t say. Well I never. Gosh golly gee-willikers. Whatever could it be?¡±

    Osain dramatically coughed and looked around, as though the Marquess¡¯ daughter wasn¡¯t standing right in front of him.

    ¡°Portable spell towers. Limited range and power, but charged enough to last the whole night. I had a friend in the upper town secure them for me. I can assure you, they were in storage. Not deployed. The upper town is perfectly secure!¡±

    ¡°I believe you. Completely and unquestioningly. How much do these Towers cost?¡±

    ¡°These are premium goods! Extremely valuable, especially now. I wouldn''t sell them at all, were it not for the desperate state the city is in. It is every citizen¡¯s duty to help in times of crisis.¡±

    ¡°Price?¡±

    ¡°Three frozen crystals. Each.¡±

    By amazing coincidence, I had exactly three frozen crystals. Now what are the odds of that?

    ¡°Ah. So let me get this straight. You have a lot of very heavy, bulky, hard to transport items, warehoused in a city that is on fire and being invaded by monsters that move a lot faster than a wagon. You are now trying to sell them to me in exchange for a currency that is actually useful, as opposed to guilders, which aren¡¯t going to matter a damn in a hot minute.¡±

    ¡°Sirrah, I do not like your implication!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like getting ripped off, ¡°my friend,¡± who definitely has receipts for all the goods he is peddling.¡± I could see the eyes darting around. Oh yes. Not a merchant, but a ¡®merchant.¡¯ I followed up my attack.

    ¡°Incidentally, if you try to bolt for your horse, my bodyguard here will stab you in each of your major organs, in alphabetical order.¡±

    ¡°I would like to see her try! My friends aren¡¯t very interested in fighting on the front lines, but they have crossbows trained on all of you this very second. Don¡¯t bother looking, they are too well hidden.¡±

    ¡°You have fireproof friends? Lucky you. Speaking of, if you want to get any money for anything, you better start coughing up the goods. Now! Take a real, real good look at my bodyguard. She remind you of anyone?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t say she does.¡± He looked away. But didn¡¯t move away. Foot nailed to the floor by the devs, I bet. Somehow, that didn¡¯t make me like him any more. I could feel the loathing rising up my guts and into my throat.

    ¡°Osain, my ¡®very good friend,¡¯ meet Versai ferch Gradden, daughter of Marquess ap Gradden, your liege and someone with a well known penchant for drowning his problems in the blood of their kin. I believe she takes after her old man that way, but frankly, she¡¯s killing targets faster than we can trace the families.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Well. Be that as it may-¡±

    ¡°Her uncle, Sebastian, you know him right? I understand he has all sorts of people doing quiet jobs for him around here. Easy to imagine how he would feel about people screwing over his niece. And what he might do about it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not! I never-¡±

    ¡°Then there¡¯s ole Crusher Jim. I have to wonder about how Jim will feel when he hears about someone peddling war supplies. He takes a lot of pride in his time in the Guards. Eight campaigns, I believe. Yeah, he probably has views.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m hardly-¡±

    ¡°And these lovely ladies you surely recognize. They are Madame¡¯s most trusted and loyal lieutenants. You know her, of course. She¡¯s the one who paid for the stuff you are trying to sell!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not¡­ look, we all have to make a living! You think I want this? Any of this?¡±

    ¡°I think that if you don''t cough up every last damn item in your inventory, the remainder of your brief, miserable life will make the damn monsters puke!¡±

    ¡°I cannot do that.¡± The voice came out flat. I lost it. The smoke, the fires, the¡­ everything. I reached over the table and yanked Osain across it. I didn¡¯t realize I had drawn my knife until the tip was almost touching his eyeball.

    ¡°You will. Right now. I¡¯ve never murdered someone before, but on God I swear you will be the first. I will punch this knife clean through your evil brain and I won¡¯t feel bad about it at all, because to me, you are worse than the damn monsters!¡±

    Osain¡¯s face was flat, tears leaking from his eyes and rolling down his face. ¡°I cannot. I cannot. I cannot. I want to. More than anything. But I cannot.¡±

    Damn. DAMN! Jammed by the same damn system that put him here.

    ¡°Well what can you do?!¡± I tried not to scream at him.

    ¡°I can tell you that all the ordinary goods, that is, the building materials, are in the building behind me. The door only opens for me, but I can open the door and just stand there. But there is nothing I can do about the spell towers. Nothing. They can only appear when I receive the Frozen Diamonds.¡±

    He took a deep breath. ¡°I can get you the cheapest possible price when summoning reinforcements. I can¡¯t do it for free. I literally cannot. The magic platform needs the rune bones to run. I can hire the locals for the lowest price possible, too, but again, they won¡¯t work for free. They need the bones as much as I do.¡±

    ¡°Do I have to summon them now, or can I do it during the fight?¡±

    His voice had gotten very quiet. ¡°You can do it whenever you please. I¡¯m not allowed to move more than ten paces from this table until you win or the monsters kill me. Please. Please believe me. I want you to win. Very much.¡±

    ¡°Has anyone ever won?¡±

    ¡°You are the first to reach us. I don¡¯t know why, but the battle runs over and over again. I have been torn apart by the monsters¡­ so many times. And I can never leave here. I know every bend in every bit of grain in every piece of wood in my prison. I¡¯m not even allowed to kill myself before the monsters reach me. So please. Win.¡±

 Chapter 57- Squaring Up

    ¡°I need you to tell me exactly how this plays out.¡±

    Osain smiled and shrugged. It was a brittle, scared thing. ¡°What¡¯s to say? A few of the very weakest thugs in the district stand behind some loosely stacked crates. The monsters rush down the street, and everyone dies.¡±

    ¡°Nobody comes out? Not Sebastian, not Jim, not Madame?¡±

    ¡°How could they? Their appearance costs money.¡±

    ¡°The troops under them?¡±

    ¡°Money, but much less.¡±

    ¡°And I can summon whenever during the wave, so I earn money per kill.¡±

    ¡°Yes. It takes a few seconds for hired troops to reach the street, but yes. I think it¡¯s intended to be a sort of virtuous business cycle.¡±

    Except that I had just emptied my pockets leveling up the Blue Roses, expecting Madame to already be on the field. I quickly checked my pouch. I had exactly twenty three Runed Bones. Fantastic. Just¡­ super.

    ¡°Is there a limit on how many I can summon?¡±

    ¡°Not that I know of. I don¡¯t think so?¡±

    So, in a way that¡¯s good, but it also means that each summons was sub-One Star in brians, I¡¯d bet.

    ¡°You said you can operate a summoning platform that also needs Runed Bones to operate?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I don¡¯t know how I know, but I know you have more troops than just your¡­ lovely companions here. For a fee, I can summon them to you.¡±

    ¡°Say more.¡±

    ¡°One Star summons ten runed bones each. Two Stars are twenty, Three Stars are thirty, and so on. Six Stars are a hundred, though. Whatever that means. I assume you know.¡±

    I slowly nodded, seeing how it was all supposed to work. ¡°Alright, alright, I can see it. How much for the local yokels?¡±

    ¡°In the first wave, you can only recruit basic locals. Jim¡¯s thugs are three Runed Bones each, Sebastian¡¯s Young Gentlemen are ten, and Madame¡¯s Regulars are seven. Her working girls are fifteen. That¡¯s the lowest possible price, I swear. They won¡¯t come for anything less. Jim won¡¯t turn up for¡­¡±

    There was a long pause. Then another.  ¡°Jim¡­ will turn up when there are enough monsters pinned up. And his sons.¡±  Osain looked stunned. ¡°He¡­ has already been paid? Apparently?¡±

    Not paid. He still owed Sebastian. I grinned. ¡°And Sebastian?¡±

    ¡°Will come¡­ as well.¡± Osian seemed to be watching a miracle unfold inside of his eyeballs. ¡°He will arrive after one hundred kills have been made.¡±

    ¡°And Madame?¡±

    ¡°Madame has been here since the beginning.¡± The voice was strong, proud, and coming from behind me.

    I wasn¡¯t really sure what I expected. Some sort of languorous, sensual beauty, maybe, or some extra MILF-y dommy mommy. Madame wasn¡¯t any of those things. She was, in fact, the single most normal looking person I had seen since I got isekai¡¯ed. Middle aged, stout, immaculately dressed in a long dress and big hat. She looked like she could punch her weight. She was hugging her Roses instead.

    ¡°You were supposed to run away! Why are you in your work uniforms? Oh, have you been eating? Did anyone bully you? No, never mind all that, you need to run. Now! The monsters are coming straight down the road!¡±

    ¡°We were summoned by the Tower Master. Mostly we just hung out and chatted. No worries. He¡¯s a creep, but he kept his hands to himself. And since he was coming to help you, we thought we¡¯d tag along.¡±  Becky said, cheerfully throwing me under the bus.

    ¡°Mmm. I¡¯ll talk to him. This is no place for you girls.¡±

    ¡°No, Madame.¡± Becky was respectful, but for the first time, I heard the iron in her. ¡°We won¡¯t run again. Our place is here, supporting you.¡± Madame glared at her. Becky let it hit her, and pass right through. Eventually, Madame looked away. She strode over to me.

    ¡°You are the ¡®Tower Master?¡¯¡± I could hear the quote marks around the word.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t pick the title, agree that it is dumb, have tried to get people to change it without success. The only name for you I have is Madame- what should I call you?¡±

    ¡°Madame. I have no need for the rest.¡±  That¡¯s a goddamn lie. She hadn¡¯t been worked over as hard as some of the others, but the devs had clearly gotten their hands on her personality already. ¡°You are here to assist in the defense?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and look who I brought with me.¡± I gestured to Versai, who was looking intensely uncomfortable. Madame grunted.

    ¡°You know, in my job, I thought I would have gotten immune to feeling awkward.¡± She squared her shoulders. ¡°Hello, Lady Versai. You are looking fit.¡±

    Versai drew a long breath through her nose. ¡°Likewise. And yes, I too would rather not. But here we all are.¡±

    They looked at each other for a long minute. I had the feeling that I should mediate somehow, or yell at them that they needed to work together or something. Couldn¡¯t bring myself to stir even an inch. I fast forward through the awkward scenes.

    ¡°Look, this is blatantly not the time or place to hash everything out.¡± Versai said, gritting her teeth so hard I was worried she would shatter a molar. Madame blinked in surprise, but nodded in agreement.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Yes, quite. I don¡¯t imagine our opinions have changed much, but the situation has. It looks like your time in the Queen¡¯s Guard did you well.¡±

    ¡°I can swing a sword.¡± Versai¡¯s grin would have sent crocodiles running. ¡°How¡¯s your spellwork?¡±

    ¡°Now that my young ladies are back?¡± Madame¡¯s smile wasn¡¯t anything nice either. ¡°I¡¯ll hold ¡®em. You hit ¡®em.¡±

    Madame cracked her knuckles. I noticed the base of her fingers just above the knuckles were shiny, much shinier than the rest of the finger. Rings. She had sold her rings. Sold everything. She wasn¡¯t wearing a single piece of jewelry, and while it was a big hat, it was made of straw and decorated with paper flowers.

    She looked over to me. ¡°I overheard some of your conversation. How many troops can you summon right now?¡±

    ¡°Almost none. I spent everything I had strengthening the Blue Roses.¡±

    She had a complicated expression hearing that. ¡°Thank you, but¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh, believe me, I know. First things first though- I have to keep the troops we have alive.¡±

    I looked over the street. This was going to be an uncomplicated terrain to fight in. The street was basically straight, with the alleyways filled with burning rubble. There was some chance that the barricades would be removed and the enemy would come pouring in from the sides, but¡­ I didn¡¯t believe it. This screamed boss arena.

    There would be waves of overwhelming numbers. A few twists thrown in. A few scripted events. My hero units would get summoned and my defenses overrun in places. Well. I could work with that.

    ¡°Ossain, the barricade materials you have stored- how are they meant to be deployed?¡±

    Madame snorted. ¡°If they are what I paid for, they are already enchanted to self assemble. Just indicate where they should go, and they build themselves. Fast. Less than two seconds fast, or I¡¯ll have the enchanter¡¯s hide!¡±

    Don¡¯t need to summon the work crew, then.

    ¡°The range on the spell tower?¡±

    ¡°It can cover the width of the street, easily, and at least a hundred yards range. The problem is that they are meant to be deployed in large numbers, with supporting troops. The recharge rate is almost a minute long.¡± Versai answered. Osain nodded along.

    ¡°Basically artillery, then.¡±

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s a wide area attack, and very long as I said. They are used mostly in siege defense.¡±

    I¡¯d take twenty of ¡®em for the Tower. Maybe one day.

    My usual strategy of ¡°slow ¡®em down, shoot ¡®em up¡± would be challenging here. I had a lot of melee troops for one thing (comparatively) and I don¡¯t have a literal forest of stakes to work with. If wishes were horses, and all that.

    ¡°Don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s any cavalry around we could lay our hands on? Or just¡­ horses?¡±

    ¡°Who could afford a warhorse in the Floating Quarter?¡± Madame snorted. I gave her a respectful, but questioning, look. She amended. ¡°Other than Sebastian, and, once upon a time, myself. But Sebastian wouldn¡¯t bother as he had his horses up at the manor, and I had better uses for my money too. Nearest livery stable that isn¡¯t on fire is thirty minutes walk that way.¡± She waved vaguely behind me, outside the bounds of the map.

    ¡°Got it. Can we get people up onto the roofs?¡±

    That got me a round of blank stares. ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°Can we. Stick People. On the roof? Like¡­ archers, crossbow troops, knife throwing gamblers, people throwing bricks, whatever?¡±

    This got me more slow blinks. Screw it.

    ¡°Versai, climb up that building right there.¡± I pointed at a three story building. There was a florist on the ground floor. Cheap bouquets wrapped in chintzy cloth stuck out of buckets in front. It felt weirdly anachronistic, but¡­ these were people with spell towers. My common sense didn¡¯t apply. Probably. Or there was something else at play.

    ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°Versai, you routinely went up and over our wall using a single thin rope. You can punch through the plaster on that piece of crap with your bare hands. It¡¯s not on fire, get climbing. Or are you allergic to flowers?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t say why I think I can¡¯t, I just feel¡­¡±

    ¡°Jesus, alright, you know what? I suck at climbing and I can make it up onto that roof.¡± I hope. Please god.

    I walked over and looked inside. Everything was boarded up. No entry. On the other hand, the nailed over boards made an easy ladder to climb. It was slow. Awkward. I put my hand in so much dirt, ash and bird poop I may never be clean again. But my doll body never gets tired. My fingers don¡¯t ache from the strain. I can do a one-handed pull up. And greatest miracle of all, none of the ancient timber frame building crumbled under my weight.

    I got up on the roof. Which was disgusting. Just¡­ so much broken tile and bird mess. I can see the argument for not going up on the roof- sanitation. But hey, since none of us get sick¡­

    I looked around what remained of Gradden March. From up here, you could see the limits of the world. The street was long, but the whole map was narrow. Barely the width of the buildings on it, in fact. A fact I knew, because the sky box ended two thirds of the way down, and there was just¡­ void.

    It looked like static. Grey, but colors burst and faded faintly in my eyes as I tried to make sense of the nothing. It wasn¡¯t black, it was the absence of anything, even darkness. I could feel it damaging my mind every second I stared at it.

    ¡°Alright, I can tie a rope to a chimney and people can climb up.¡± I yelled down to the people below. They just blinked at me, like I had levitated or something. ¡°Versai, can you climb up now?¡±

    ¡°No¡­ maybe?¡±

    ¡°Try.¡±

    I¡¯m not sure what expression was on her face when she climbed over the edge of the roof. Wonder and confusion and something I couldn¡¯t name.

    ¡°Alright, Tower Master¡¯s orders, Okay? I¡¯m serious. Eyes on me. Versai? I¡¯m serious. For everyone¡¯s health, NOBODY LOOKS AT WHAT¡¯S ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOF. Got it?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master! But, why?¡±

    ¡°Because I have the training to look at brain damaging materials, and you all don¡¯t. So don¡¯t look.¡±

    We got back to ground level and I clapped my hands once, loudly. ¡°Alright, this makes things easier. Ranged goes up on the rooftops, melee holds the line up front, and support is scattered throughout. We can use the ranged attackers to hit ¡®em from way further out too. Good stuff.¡± I nodded happily.

    ¡°How¡­ did you do that? How did you know you could be on the rooftop?¡± Madame¡¯s voice was slow, almost dreamy. ¡°You can¡¯t stand on the rooftop, it¡¯s not possible. But you did it.¡±

    Madame hadn¡¯t met other Tower Masters. She was parked in some little nowhere space, waiting to be summoned for a battle that never came. Not like Sebastian and Jim, who had their own roles in their own dungeons. She¡¯s never tried to push the edges of the ¡®real.¡¯ Well. Earth shattering revelations later, violence now.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s not dwell on that. Osian, I have exactly three frozen diamonds. One spell tower, please. Then, go stand in that warehouse doorway you mentioned. I want to see what I can build when I have all the toys. Lastly, here are twenty Rune Bones. I want to summon two people.

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°You said that there are some starting troops, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, three Thugs and three Young Gentlemen with crossbows.¡±

    ¡°We got to keep them on their feet as long as we can, then. Summon Pammy and Maria. Time for the Medics to shine.¡±

    And time for me to throw school kids into a war zone. Damn the developers, and damn me for playing along! I took a long breath. The only way out is through. The only concern is to live¡­ and win.

 Chapter 58- Here they come!

    I very quickly noticed something annoying about the existing ¡°defenses.¡± They were short. They were barely more than chest-high walls, many of them, which did me no good whatsoever since I was putting my crossbowmen up on the roof.

    The thugs might have benefitted from some barriers, if they had spears or something. Instead, some utter genius decided that what thugs would carry would be hatchets and meat cleavers.

    I stared at them. They stared back. Sub-One-Star intelligence, as expected. Big, meaty guys. You could imagine them fighting in the pit. What I couldn¡¯t imagine was them fighting monsters with goddamn hatchets! It was insane!

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose we could equip them with spears.¡±

    ¡°Ah, the people with spears are the disbanded militia, twenty rune bones each. But you can¡¯t summon them yet. I... just know that. Somehow.¡± Osian¡¯s eyes went glassy again. I don¡¯t think his brain comprehended the words he was saying.

    ¡°Disbanded militia costs the same as a Two Star summons?¡±

    ¡°They have armor, a spear, and work very well in teams.¡± Osian shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t set the prices, Tower Lord.¡± Apparently, he had forgotten that he promised me the ¡®lowest prices¡¯ on the summoned troops. I¡¯d have to keep an eye on him.

    ¡°Really hatchets. REALLY?¡±

    ¡°Well, they are cheap and almost everyone has one, or a cleaver.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t going to get anywhere arguing. Still. These people had been fighting monsters for who-knows-how-long. They understood the concept of reach. I refused to believe the people of the floating quarter, with time to prepare, didn¡¯t rely on pikes or spears.

    This was the devs. This was the devs saying ¡°We need a cheap, disposable, unit. That way, we can have power scaling that is at least kind of meaningful.¡±

    Which meant that my ¡°keep them all alive¡± streak was about to end. These were units meant to be chewed up, lasting just long enough to get your economy going. Assuming you hadn¡¯t been smart and spent all your rune bones in advance on upgrades for your summons.

    God damn it. God. DAMN! IT! These were literally disposable cannon-fodder units. The way they were equipped gave them no chance of surviving more than one or two waves and there was not a single damn thing I could do about it. No wonder there was no cap on how many you could summon.

    ¡°Let me see those building materials!¡± I snarled. Slow them down, shoot them up, send Versai out to thin the herd where I could. Position the medics where they could maximize the healing output.

    I didn¡¯t know whether to laugh or cry when I saw the first two items on the list. Neatly stacked storage boxes, and essentially the same hedgehogs I had been making for days now. There were also sandbag barricades (for some damn reason, because I couldn¡¯t see them being any damn use other than a tripping hazard), nine-foot stone walls, caltrops and similar. No traps though.

    ¡°Can I only put down barriers before the wave starts? Is there a limit to where I can put them?

    Ossain hesitated. ¡°No, you can put them down whenever you please, but they do take a varying amount of time, up to two minutes, depending on the structure being assembled. I know what Madame said, but some things just aren¡¯t a question of money. You can¡¯t put them quite wherever you like, they all go basically straight across the street, and you can only put them up to the first intersection.¡± He pointed, about forty feet away. So. Not a ton of room to work with.

    No way up or down the stone wall, I noticed. Whatever troops were stationed on the other side of the wall were likely to stay there. Delightful.

    ¡°Madame, you are a mage?¡±

    ¡°Yes, a control mage when I have my Blue Roses with me. Basically, I can cast two types of spells. One is Glass Arrow, which is a quick, single target, medium range spell. The other is Final Revel, which is a short range, wide area spell that causes confusion, weakens enemies to all elements, and given enough time, is fatal. But I can only cast it with my girls, and it does take a good ninety seconds from the time the last spell ends to cast it again.¡±

    Oh. Oh now that is spicy. ¡°Do you need to be able to see them to use the spells?¡±

    ¡°Of course!¡± She looked at me like I was the weirdo, while she was standing there in her straw hat promising to magic my problems away.

    ¡°Super duper. Alright, how close is ¡°short range?¡±

    ¡°Twenty feet.¡±

    I smiled up at the sky. Was the sky particularly blue today? No, it was red and black, because the monsters launched a night raid and the whole damn city was on fire. Good enough.

    ¡°Alright. Stone wall goes down here. Two rows of hedgehogs go directly in front of that. Crossbows, stay up on the roof and shoot from right there.¡± I pointed. Finally going to get some of that enfilading fire Rakim was talking about.

    ¡°Thugs, you go up on the wall.¡± They nodded. I watched closely what happened next. The stone wall went up like a mushroom, rising out of the concrete as soon as the enchanted package was placed on the ground. The hedgehogs popped into existence in barely  two seconds. I didn¡¯t like what it said about their probable lifespan.

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    The stone wall rose steadily, and soon enough hit its nine-foot limit. Nine feet is another one of those ¡°interesting¡± numbers. Nine feet is tall enough to make an NBA player have to crank their neck back to look up at someone. On the other hand, it¡¯s not particularly tall in walls. I could see monsters snatching people¡¯s ankles and hauling them off the wall. This was¡­ weird. Was I missing something?

    The walls were plenty wide though. That was something. Could stick artillery up there. Mmm. The thugs walked over and casually hauled themselves onto the wall. This was the reason. It was easy to get on and off. It also stopped players from building an impenetrable wall. They would always have to be saving up cash to build new barricades and using their thugs and melee to protect the ranged units up on the actually strong wall.

    ¡°What¡¯s the failure condition for the battle? Other than everyone dying?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s generally it.¡± Osain looked ill.

    ¡°What happens if they run through the street and don¡¯t find anyone. Don''t ask how or why, what happens if that happens? If a certain number get past, do we automatically die?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± His eyelids started fluttering. ¡°Twenty. If twenty get past, the city is dead and we are dead with it.¡±

    So much for just putting everyone on the roof and letting the ranged units slowly rack up kills.

    I snorted hard through my nose. The first few rounds would be the most delicate. The size of the wave would be the determining factor there. I also noticed that there was not an unlimited supply of building materials. So. That was peachy. On the other hand¡­ starting the game with a Six Star mage unit, four supporters, a Six Star Vanguard, two medics, three Thugs and three Young Gentlemen, not to mention the distinctly shiny looking spell tower, I was in a pretty damn strong starting position.

    ¡°Alright, Orders everyone! Crossbows, stay put and shoot down. Fire as soon as they are in range! Medics are behind the wall! If someone is injured, jump up and heal them, or they come down to you. Versai, you are with the Thugs for now. Madame and assistants,¡± who I was definitely not cursing four thousand five hundred times in my head ¡°You get up on the wall too. Fire as soon as the enemy is in range, but don¡¯t cast Final Revel until ordered.¡±

    I looked around. I wondered if Madame realized she never questioned my presence here, or my right to give her orders. She didn¡¯t even question the orders she got. She might not have the Awakened Soul look, but the devs had already trimmed back her personality and mind. Just needed that final transformation.

    Christ alive, she looked like some random Irish biddy from a period drama. Or¡­ oh God. Whatever the female singer was called from A Fairytale of New York. Don¡¯t ask why I put together an Anti-Cheer Christmas Music Playlist. I have my reasons.

    I hesitated, then at the extreme back edge of the battlefield that I could reach, I laid down a double layer of the sandbag walls. They popped up in a couple of seconds. Waist high. Vaultable for any of the monsters I had seen. Were they expecting ranged units? Or was this more Dev scumbaggery? I walked over. Coarse sacks made from some rough cloth. I lifted one up, rotated ninety degrees and dropped it on the ground.

    Nothing happened.

    I walked it all the way over to my wall.

    Nothing happened.

    I spent a few minutes tossing sandbags away from the wall. Nothing happened. I slowly grinned. The bags weren¡¯t damaged. They were just disorganized. The wall was, therefore, not broken. Not sure how I was going to use this at the moment¡­ but I would find a use for it.

    I dumped four more rows of waist high sandbag walls behind us. Why not? Better safe than stabbed.

    ¡°Alright, everyone in their places?¡± I looked around. Couldn¡¯t think of anything else to do until I had some more rune bones to work with. At least the fortifications weren¡¯t costing me anything. I hauled myself onto the walls. ¡°Alright. Begin!¡±

    The giant barrier at the end of the street flashed, then faded out of existence. The monsters came through the instant it was gone. I started rapidly trying to count batlike noses.

    ¡°Twenty. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.¡± I didn¡¯t quite sag with relief, but it was close.

    ¡°What?¡± Versai gave me a look. So did Madame and the Blue Roses.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Are you having a stroke or something?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean am I having a stroke? You could damn well solo twenty of these pricks, never mind all the ranged support.¡±

    The monsters were really moving along. They would be in the archer¡¯s range in seconds. Madame was casually firing off little blasts of light. She wasn¡¯t quite one shotting the monsters, but they were badly injured. Her rate of fire was¡­ not great. Slower than Rakim, faster than Mika. Highest damage per shot and longest range from someone that wasn¡¯t a sniper or artillery. I¡¯d take it.

    ¡°No, the peasy lemon squeezy thing. None of that made any sense.¡±

    ¡°I love our little talks Versai, I really do, but KINDLY KILL EVERY DAMN MONSTER THAT MAKES IT TO THE WALL, PLEASE!¡± I wasn¡¯t quite shouting, but the horrible wolf/goat/bat things determined to turn me into a Clive Barker poster were coming real damn fast.

    The Young Gentlemen up on the roof had no problem firing down into the mix. I was trying to evaluate the damage. Their crossbows were smaller than Mikas¡¯ and clearly had less range. Unfortunately, they also had less stopping power. Fortunately, they had a higher rate of fire. It still took five hits center mass to put down one monster.

    Big oof. Well. This is why we have the barricades, and Madame was helping a lot. The Young Gentlemen could finish off her victims with just one or two bolts.

    ¡°Madame, one Glass Arrow per target, please. Leave them to the Young Gentlemen to finish.¡±

    ¡°Aye.¡± I waited a moment. That was it. No bark. Just a casual acknowledgement.

    If I won this battle, and I was going to win this battle¡­ No. No. She was already dead. This¡­ I can¡¯t think about that. She would be a Six Star. Still basically intact. I had to believe that.

    I had to.

    The dozen monsters that were still on their feet crashed into the hedgehogs. They scrambled at them, trying to climb over or smash through. They were doing horrific damage to them, each swipe of a claw ripping out chunks of wood. Wouldn¡¯t take them long to break the barricades entirely.

    They didn¡¯t have the time. The Young Gentlemen kept up a steady fire, and they were now close enough for Madame to one-shot. They died quick.

    I waited with baited breath. There was a timer ticking down to the next wave, I was sure of it. ¡°Osain, do I have to go loot-¡± The monsters vanished in a flash of light. I checked my pouch. Forty rune bones. Basic monsters were worth basic money, it seemed. No matter.

    ¡°Osain! Summon Miyuki, Pomoroy and Radz!¡±

 Chapter 59- Washing the Street With Blood

    I got my hard working artillery into place on the wall. ¡°Pomoroy, can I upgrade you to fire grapeshot? Or canister?¡±

    ¡°Pardon, my liege?¡±

    Guess that¡¯s a no. I waved her into position. ¡°Miyuki, up on the roof with the Young Gentlemen please. Prioritize killing stealthed units, otherwise do your usual job piling them up and nailing them down.¡±

    ¡°Miyuki hears the words whispered in the wind.¡± She still had the grappling hook. She had awkwardly tied it around her waist, but it seemed that no force should attempt to part it from her. She whipped it around twice and was on the roof a bare second later.

    She. She¡¯s just so perfect, you know? Did I mention the way her hair ornaments are perfectly highlighted by the burning city around us? The way the hot wind makes her midnight tresses flutter in the-

    ¡°Incoming!¡± Versai yelled.

    Damn! Second wave was coming in, and I hadn¡¯t even asked about repairing the barricade. Perv later, kill now! ¡°Artillery, Fire as soon as they are in range! Osain, can I repair the barricades?¡±

    ¡°Yes, with a worker! Madame¡¯s Regulars can do the job!¡±

    Not just no but HELL NO to that.

    ¡°I did ensure they were all equipped with a magic sack that produces flaming explosives. They don¡¯t do a lot of damage all at once, but the fires keep burning for a good few minutes. They pair up well with Final Revel.¡± Madame had seen the look on my face.

    That got a raised eyebrow from me. I don¡¯t know why I was surprised. She had consistently shown that she was smart and ruthless. Not too shocking she would think of that. Still a higher level of initiative than I associated with Versai. Hmm. Must test later.

    ¡°Radz raining death.¡±

    ¡°Pomoroy, by Imperial Decree!¡±

    Ah. Damn. I goofed. I looked out and counted noses. Thirty this wave. They didn¡¯t need me to micro-manage.

    I jumped off the wall and ran back twenty long steps. I couldn¡¯t remember exactly what Radz minimum range was, but this should help regardless. I started grabbing the scattered sandbags and built up a platform. It wasn¡¯t¡­ the best platform. I had to make a smaller platform out of sandbags next to the main platform, just so I could reach the top.

    Not OSHA approved, to be sure. But it was ten feet tall, and the top was as flat as I could make it, so¡­ should work?

    ¡°Miyuki sees only the slain.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all of them, Tower Master.¡± Versai yelled down.

    ¡°Awesome! Radz, reposition. Set up on this tower here.¡±  I ran back to the wall to examine the damage. The first (of two) hedgehog barriers was destroyed, with significant damage to the second. I checked the warehouse. I only had six more hedgehogs in stock, and the other barriers were just variations on low wooden walls. Strictly speaking they were better than nothing, but I¡¯d stick with what I knew worked.

    The monsters flashed white. Sixty Runed Bones, no waiting. And now the beatings can really begin.

    ¡°Osian, Summon all my Mikas!¡±

    The summoning circle glowed blue, and here was the crossbow squad. Corporal Mika stood forward. ¡°Mika is here. You have nothing to fear.¡±

    Damned if I didn¡¯t believe her. The sky would shatter and fall before Mika would drop her shield and run. Maybe not even then.

    ¡°Get your squad up on the roof, across from the Young Gentlemen up there. Run, Corporal! The next wave is any second now.¡±

    ¡°SQUAD! AT THE DOUBLE!¡±

    I tossed out a fresh barricade to replace the broken one.

    ¡°Incoming!¡±

    Damn. The Mika¡¯s were still getting into position. I tried to count quickly. Fifty. The numbers were jumping higher. Armored variants when? Any wave now, surely. And that¡¯s assuming this thing is going to stick with the monsters I have seen so far. I have no reason to believe that. This was an extermination attack on a (weakened, comparatively poorly defended) major city. No way the monsters only brought their weakest units.

    ¡°Radz raining death.¡±  Guess she was fine. That tower is literally just stacked up sandbags.

    ¡°Pomoroy, by Imperial Decree!¡± God, what I wouldn¡¯t give for grapeshot. Just shred the monsters. Actually, shrapnel rounds for Radz would also be very tasty. And while I was dreaming, a heavy machine gun nest would be sweet too. Helicopter air support? Miniguns carried by muscular orc waifus?

    Nothing sweet about the monsters. Bellowing and screaming, their long, all too human hands gripping the cobblestones as they hurled themselves down the street towards us. Radz and Pomoroy were doing their usual excellent work thinning them out. Miyuki wasn¡¯t being quite as efficient at clumping them up, due to the wider space the monsters had to maneuver. Still, they were killing them long before they could reach my people.

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    Wait. No. No way. ¡°ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?¡± I didn¡¯t quite scream. Actually, based on the looks I was getting, maybe I did. I don¡¯t care.

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± I ground out. How do I explain that I had figured out why all the walls were so low?

    You were supposed to build your own maze on the street, and let your infantry work around the blockades. The walls stretched the width of the map, but I would bet cash the workers could modify them. If you set things up just right, you could get a Thug into melee without being demolished. Then just keep spamming your cheap, disposable units to make up numbers, while stacking your actually good summons at the end as a roadblock. It was the dumbest damn thing¡­

    Well. Screw doing this the ¡®right¡¯ way. Daddy¡¯s American. He''s gonna shoot some things and then blow them up.

    The Mikas opened up, and immediately popped their Ult. The storm of bolts scythed through the monsters. It was brutal. Utterly brutal. The cumulative effects of the weapons kits, the combat experience, and the all important Corporal Mika, were devastating. I could remember when the Mikas needed three hits on target to put down a monster. They were one-shotting them thanks to the Ult. It took bare seconds for the third wave to melt away.

    They never even reached the barricade.

    ¡°Well. Damn. Go Mika.¡± I saw their shield tower collapse. They sprawled on the rooftop, panting for breath. Not unconscious, though. I slowly smiled. They ended the wave very fast. I bet that meant they would have enough time to recover before the next wave.

    There was a polite cough behind me. I am very proud to say that I didn¡¯t shriek.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know what sort of noise that is, young man. Is it a human noise? These days one can¡¯t be too careful about that sort of thing.¡±

    Sebastian was back and as dapper as ever. Versai didn¡¯t say a damn word. She just rushed over and hugged the hell out of him.

    ¡°I love you, Uncle. You were always the person I could count on, when everything was crazy and nothing made sense, you were always there for me. I didn¡¯t get to tell you before. Thank you. For everything. Thank you.¡± Her voice was choked, struggling not to sob.

    ¡°There, there, not in front of the troops. They don¡¯t like to see that kind of thing. I love you too, sweety. Since the day you were born. Shh. Enough of that now. You will make this old man tear up in public, and my image could never survive that.¡± His voice was so warm.

    They held each other on that wall. Their home burning around them. Sebastian standing on the field where he died. I looked away. They deserved¡­ more than I could give them. I hunched in on myself and looked away.

    Eventually, the monsters glowed and vanished, which usually meant we had about a minute before the next wave. Sebastian coughed again, this time clearly intending to pretend none of the preceding five minutes happened.

    ¡°I see a few of my Young Gentlemen up on the wall, but most of the rest here are strangers to me. It would be wise of you to summon more troops while you still can, though I suppose you know your own business best.¡±

    ¡°And hello to you too, Sebastian, you old goat!¡± Madame¡¯s voice was equal parts playful and acidic.

    ¡°Ah, Madame! You are just as I remember you. Such a pity. Still, early night. Hope for the future.¡±

    I checked my pouch. Clean hundo Bones. Nice nice. Now, do I summon my higher tier units, or some of the locals? I mentally reviewed my roster. Kim- not urgent. Marci and the Judiths? Pass, I can recruit Madame¡¯s Regulars for cheaper, and I won¡¯t feel as bad if they die. Rakim? This was exactly her cup of¡­ well probably not tea, cup of boiled-to-death-black-coffee?

    Honestly, I had most of my combat team already here. Rakim would cost me forty¡­ hmm.

    Victory through superior firepower. Sebastian¡¯s Young Gentlemen were Ten Bones a pop, Madame¡¯s Regulars were seven, and her Working Girls were fifteen. Just going to ignore the disposable thugs for now. I¡¯d summon the Disbanded Militia when I could, but right now, the cost/benefit wasn''t there.

    ¡°Osain! Summon Rakim, three Young Gentlemen and one Madame¡¯s Regular.¡±

    ¡°Yes, at once!¡±

    I looked over at Sebastian. ¡°Are you strictly a melee fighter, or can you work at range too? Do the Young Gentlemen benefit from being near you?¡±

    ¡°I like to think they benefit from my close supervision, yes. And yes, I can attack at range. Not a very long range, mind you, but this should be fine. Up on the roof with the others?¡± His voice, God! When I grow up, I want to sound just like Sebastian.

    ¡°Good. Take the new guys with you, and up you go. Oi! Regular!¡± He had a strong ¡°City Dweller A¡± vibe to him. Round head, pushbroom mustache, beefy physique. ¡°Can you fix that barricade?¡± I pointed at the damaged hedgehog.

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°Do it. Climb up the wall the second you are done.¡±

    ¡°Incoming!¡± Damn. I quickly started counting. Fifty ordinary monsters, and leading the way was a solid block of twenty armored monsters.

    ¡°Did no one draw artillery? Are they super rare units or something?¡± I asked Versai.

    ¡°No, not really. It¡¯s just, most people strongly prefer melee units. They tend to do a lot more damage per hit, and can stop a charge. Well. Some of us can.¡±

    ¡°Yes, exactly. Young man, while it¡¯s not my job to tell you who to employ, I am quite troubled by the lack of Thugs or other muscular sorts.¡± Madame sounded like she was trying to be firm but fair, and leaning strongly towards ¡°firm¡±.

    ¡°Good point. How close did the last wave get?¡± I pointed ¡°Also, I notice that you haven¡¯t needed the Revel, and we haven¡¯t made use of the spell tower.

    ¡°Yet.¡±

    I nodded. That was fair. ¡°Yet.¡±

    Pomoroy¡¯s cannonball smashed through the ranks of the armored monsters. They had pulled themselves together just in time for Radz mortar to land on their heads. The gore was awful. They were the enemy, and it was still awful. Confetti bones and garlands of guts covered the street. Blood splashed across the pavement, from burning building to burning building. It was the stuff of nightmares, of horrors.

    I could only wish we could do it faster. Still. We are doing it pretty fast now.

    We were thinning them out at a decent clip. Miyuki was operating at extreme range, but still dropping armored monsters with every pull of her longbow. The range-heavy troop selection was working. Which meant that right about now¡­

    There was a bellow, and a huge form rumbled up behind the monsters. Slapping them to one side as it rushed down the street. Bigger than my wall, too. Somehow I couldn¡¯t stop grinning.

    ¡°HEY BUDDY! I¡¯VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU! COME TO DADDY FOR BEATINGS!¡±

 Chapter 60- Extra Violent

    ¡°ALL RANGED UNITS, FOCUS FIRE ON THE SMALL MONSTERS! DO NOT AIM FOR THE BIG GUY!¡±

    ¡°Are you sure about that, Tower Master?¡± Madame asked, but she was already targeting the smaller monsters, aiming to maim.

    ¡°Yep. How long does it take you to cast Final Revel?¡±

    ¡°I see. That does make sense. About three seconds.¡±

    ¡°Not ideal, but okay. Start casting it when he¡¯s five seconds out from the wall.¡±

    She nodded calmly. I had wondered if the size of the monster would be a factor, or the fact it was a rare or an elite or something, but apparently not. It did look more or less like the Alpha, though it seemed to be taking my existence a lot less personally.

    ¡°Versai, when Madame gets the big guy locked down and debuffed, go out there and do your thing. Don¡¯t worry about the little guys, we¡¯ll keep them off you.¡±

    ¡°Gladly, Tower Master.¡± Versai looked downright excited. The big monster spun and fell back half a step. I snorted. Because he was bulling through the smaller monsters, he was between Pomoroi and her targets. Pomoroi didn¡¯t see that as a particular problem. Pomoroi¡¯s seen worse and didn¡¯t give a damn then either.

    ¡°Tsk! She¡¯s going to take the fun out of it.¡± Versai was lightly bouncing her hand up and down on the hilt of her sword.

    ¡°Versai¡­ what exactly did you do for the Queen?¡±

    ¡°Oh. This and that. Mostly this.¡±

    Madame started chanting. The Blue Roses, who had mostly been hanging around looking mildly interested, joined her. They raised their hands and started a strange, sing-song cadence, something with a slow, steady rhythm but a wildly varying high-low pitch. Each Rose sang their own portion of the chant. Four discordant melodies merged into one catchy sound, anchored by Madame¡¯s voice.

    It was the damnedest thing I had ever seen, and I had recently seen some pretty damned things. Then it got demoted to second most damned. The spell completed, and¡­

    It was like a chemical spill spreading in mid-air. Like gasoline poured over clear water. The shimmering colors and swirling lights, each light making its own sound as it shifted through the color gradient. It covered most of the width of the street, just outside our barriers. The big monster ran into it and collapsed. Not injured, from what I could tell. It seemed like it had momentarily forgotten how its legs worked.

    It did manage to sort itself out, but it was moving like it was drunk. Stumbling from side to side. At one point it was moving in a little circle, like it was lost in a fog.

    The double batteries of the Mikas and the Young Gentlemen were shredding the other monsters. They would reach the front line eventually, but there was a little time. ¡°Versai- Go!¡±

    She threw her head back and screamed. Not in fear, in outrage. In violence. Since the day I met her, I thought Versai was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. That beauty vanished in one long ululation. What remained was pure demon.

    Blond hair flew like a streamer as Versai launched herself off the wall. She should have landed on the hedgehogs. Should have.

    ¡°Vermin!¡± Her shield glowed and seemed to drag Versai forward through the air, smashing into the head of the giant monster and knocking it to the ground. This time, it was a lot slower to get up.

    Her long blade flashed silver bright in her hands, like mithril birds flying through the air and ripping up the meat of the monster in front of her. She went for the joints first. That blade play she had honed in the endless time between rounds was fully on display. Fast, inhumanly fast, but more importantly- it cut. No matter what. If Versai saw it, and it was in reach, it could be cut.

    She didn¡¯t just dismember the monster- Versai jointed him like Soma breaking down a chicken. Faster than my eye could follow, her long sword slipped into a knee. Cutting through the cartilage, slicing the tendons, popping the joint open without ever cutting bone. The stump sprayed blood madly. Some scorched part of my mind thought the severed limb looked very tidy. No ragged bits hanging off. Then a hand came off at the wrist. Then the elbow.

    The giant monster tried to bite at her, and she got her sword into the side of its jaw. She moved so fast, she dislocated it¡¯s damn jaw! First the left, then ducked under and hit the right joint, popping the whole damn mandible off, before reversing and letting her blade bite through the throat.

    There was a flash of silver, and she was strolling back, flicking the blood off her blade as the giant collapsed behind her. Long blond hair trailing behind her like a battle standard. The demon in its element, striding through the blood of her enemies in a burning city.

    I had seen Versai¡¯s war face. I¡¯d never forget it.

    Up on the rooftops, the Mikas were raining death down on the monsters that had made it through the artillery. Madame hadn¡¯t dropped the spell. More and more of the horrors piled up in front of the barricade, lost, stumbling around, attacking each other. I could see the wounded ones slowly dying. Their wounds got worse as I watched. They bled faster. It didn¡¯t take long for the monsters to become paralyzed and collapse on the cobblestones. Blood pumping out, puddling, slicking the stones with their brief lives.

    Rakim was standing next to the Mikas. She had resumed her old job, cracking the armor so the Mikas could massacre the monsters more efficiently.

    Sebastian was raining hell from the other side of the street. The Young Gentlemen under his command had apparently been sandbagging when they were working for me, as their rate of fire and accuracy went way up.

    Sebastian pulled out a damn heavy looking crossbow from somewhere, set up on the edge of a roof and started dropping bodies. I don¡¯t know if the crossbow was enchanted, but wherever he hit, it turned lime green and visibly festered and corroded as I watched. No such thing as a flesh wound with him. Even if it wasn¡¯t an instant kill, the monsters he shot never got more than a dozen steps before they died. It worked slower against the armor, but it did work.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The monsters pressed close, but never pushed our lines. Just too much firepower, covering too much distance. They ran pretty quick, those monsters, but the weight of fire crushed them.

    I kept an eye on the sole Madame¡¯s Regular that I had summoned. He¡­ did exactly as advertised. He fixed up the damaged hedgehog, then threw what looked like molotov cocktails at any monsters that wandered too close. He seemed to have a nigh infinite supply. The flames didn¡¯t last all that long, though. About eight seconds, I¡¯d guess. On the other hand, he could throw a new one every twenty seconds, so it was good enough. Need to summon a bunch more for them to really be effective. And they were dirt cheap.

    Another thing Madame was wrong about. Interesting that she hadn¡¯t understood the adjustment to time the way my other summons had. Maybe because she wasn¡¯t properly one of my summons yet?

    The wave was getting cleaned up. Versai swaggered back onto the wall, not even glancing at the monsters behind her.

    ¡°God¡¯s Teeth, Versai! The Queen¡¯s Guard really did you good.¡±

    ¡°Mmm. It was a pretty satisfying job.¡±

    ¡°Looks like you earned ¡®Contemptuous Blow.¡¯ Madame seemed fascinated. Versai¡¯s smile was unashamedly smug.

    ¡°Better. ¡®Inherent Superiority.¡¯ It¡¯s a third order Discipline.¡±

    Madame looked genuinely impressed, but quickly hid it behind bland approval.

    ¡°Sorry, third order discipline?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh, yes. It¡¯s a bit like Mika¡¯s Shield Tower, I guess?¡± Versai shrugged. ¡°I can only use it in single combat against a foe that is stronger than I am. Once used, it weakens the enemy, stuns them briefly, and gives me a boost to strength.¡±

    I blinked. ¡°I specifically asked you about this! Specifically this!¡±

    ¡°You kinda did. And you kind of didn¡¯t. And I don¡¯t want to talk about how I learned it. So. You know. Let''s drop it here.¡±

    ¡°We are not dropping it there-¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve killed this batch,¡± Madame interjected. ¡°Any further orders?¡±

    ¡°What? Oh.¡± I blinked, forced to shift gears. ¡°Osain! Can I move a barricade after it has been set up?¡±

    ¡°By magic? No.¡±

    Adorable. ¡°Versai, Thugs, jump down and pick up the first row of hedgehogs and place them across the street, two paces ahead of where they are now.¡±

    I looked over at Rakim. ¡°Rakim, anything you can do to improve our defenses?¡±

    ¡°Probably?¡±

    That never gets less annoying! ¡°Go into the warehouse, see what¡¯s in there, and report back on any improvement you could make over ¡°chest high walls going the width of the street!¡±

    ¡°Yes Sir!¡±

    Alright, alright. What¡¯s next? We had one giant, but we could have Versai as our giant killer? Two giants? That¡¯s what the spell tower is for. That and clearing end-game doom stacks of monsters. Am I set? Just more of the same? Hmm.

    No, no I do not buy this. Too much unit diversity for it to be this simple. Too much emphasis on melee units being necessary. It¡¯s the vicious cycle of game development- if you don¡¯t clearly indicate mechanics and routes, players complain that things are hidden, or the game is pointlessly hard. Make them explicit, and they whine about hand holding, dumbing down and lack of challenge.

    The Devs might be cruel and unfair, but they were stuck in the same cruel and unfair trap that other, non-necromantic developers were. They had to both point you directly at the solution, AND try to surprise you. Well. Let it never be said I was one to ignore the misery of the Devs. I must do my duty, exploit their pain, and make it worse.

    Anyone I wanted to summon? At this point¡­ no. ¡°Osian, can I summon more advanced units now?¡±

    ¡°Err. Yes. Some. Experienced Thugs, Made Men, and Whales. Also, you can recruit the Disbanded Militia now.¡±

    I checked my pouch. If I had spit, I would have choked on it. Two hundred and forty three Rune Bones, and I knew that only a hundred of that came from the regular monsters. Three were left over from the last wave.

    ¡°How much was the Militia?¡±

    ¡°Disbanded Militia are twenty rune bones each.¡± Osain carefully emphasized the first term. There¡¯s a splash of yellow paint if I ever saw one. Thanks, people who refuse to git gud. Appreciate the assist.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take ten! How much are Made Men and Whales?¡±

    ¡°Made Men are fifteen, Whales are thirty.¡± I almost choked.

    ¡°What do the whales do?¡±

    ¡°Well, they spend a lot of money in my establishment.¡± Madame chimed in.

    ¡°Yes, I guessed. Combat wise, how are they useful?¡±

    ¡°Oh! They all purchased enchanted rings that provide damage bonuses to up to three targets for twenty seconds per activation, with a thirty second cool down.¡± She smiled proudly. And why not? That sounds like major customer loyalty.

    Gonna pass on the Whales for now. ¡°Sebastian, what are the combat capabilities of Made Men?¡±

    ¡°The same as the Young Gentlemen, but their range is longer, they hit harder, and are adept at finding sneaky units.¡±

    Damn, now that is worth it!

    ¡°Osain, Two Made Men!¡±

    I¡¯d have to bank the rest. The Disbanded Militia filed out, each carrying, bless them, a long spear.

    ¡°Are they¡­ wearing winter coats?¡±

    ¡°What? What winter coats? They are wearing gambesons.¡± Versai gave me a very odd look, but¡­ come on. They look like winter coats.

    ¡°Cloth armor any good at stopping monster claws?¡±

    ¡°Yes, actually. It¡¯s the blunt force impact that tends to be lethal.¡± The militia had solid helmets and a chainmail head and neck covering. Looked good to me, but the best bit was the long spears. Not quite pike-long, but long enough to reach over the hedgehogs without problems. Bonus damage against large? Maybe. We would see.

    ¡°Well. Guess we¡¯re about to find out.¡±

    ¡°Sir? We¡¯ve got options, but I need time.¡± Rakim called from the warehouse. ¡°At least a few minutes.¡±

    ¡°A few minutes? Soldier, you¡¯re dreaming!¡±

    ¡°Miyuki sees the snake hidden in the grass!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got incoming!¡± Sebastian roared from the rooftop.

    Not the usual monsters this time. Low, dense looking things, with thick layers of armor. Ripping down the street. Ram-horns lowered, wicked points jabbing forward. Wall Breakers. I¡¯d been worried about them for a long time.

    ¡°Militia! Plant your spears and BRACE FOR IMPACT!¡±

 Chapter 61- Combined Arms Battlefield

    ¡°Like a hippo, a sheep, a bat and a wolf all made beautiful love together, and then their inbred grandkids robbed a ¡°I need four guns to get a Frosty¡± tough-guy¡¯s house for armor.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m quite sure I didn¡¯t understand most of that.¡± Madame murmured.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Stand by with Final Revel.¡± I was staring down the road. Miyuki was doing her usual outstanding job. She was nailing a foot or leg to the ground, and letting the armored hulks slam to the ground, trip up everyone around them, and before they could get up again, she was aiming down the shaft of her next arrow.

    Pomoroy and Radz were killing them too, but they wouldn¡¯t have much time to get shots off. The wall breakers were moving fast, horns down and pounding down the cobblestones. Ready to smash through whatever was between them and me.

    I felt like I was missing something. The two Made Men I just hired were looking dapper, though they looked uncomfortably comfortable shooting down with their heavy crossbows. Didn¡¯t quite have Miyuki¡¯s range, but they were already shooting.

    ¡­

    OH HELL NO!

    ¡°Made Men! Only shoot concealed or hidden units!¡±

    They instantly shifted their fire, shooting alarmingly close to the barricade.

    ¡°Madame, Final Revel, now!¡±

    The heavy bolts looked like they exploded when they hit the ground. I focused on the bursts of fire popping off on the cobbles. It wasn¡¯t the bolts, or I didn¡¯t think so. I frowned, trying to understand what I was seeing. A flash of fire, then a spray of gore with a glowing bolt of light sticking out of the middle of it. Nobody here was bothering with ammunition either.

    Before I could figure it out, I saw one of the Thugs protecting the Militia¡¯s flanks go down screaming. A murder-baboon was on top of him, long fingers ripping pieces of meat off the bone, like it was shredding a roast chicken.

    ¡°Shit, VERSAI!¡±

    ¡°On it!¡±

    There was a blond blur diving down onto the Thug, but to my shock, Versai didn¡¯t stab it. Instead, with a ferocious kick she launched it back over the barricade. One of the Made Men managed to hit it in the air. The thing exploded, showering blood and organ meat across the already gore-slicked street.

    Versai came back carrying the thug. She dropped him down to the medics, then reported. ¡°They explode. These monsters have a different pattern than the ones we fought before, and up close, you can see there is a tiny flame in their eyes.¡±

    ¡°Well. Super. Guess those thugs have some use. Damn.¡±

    I looked down. The thug was already back on his feet, looking fit and ready to work.

    ¡°Back to the front line, Thug. Stand back where you were.¡± I pointed. ¡°Versai, keep your eyes on the front line.¡±

    ¡°Hard for me to see them this far out, but I will do my best. Oh Hell!¡±

    The murder baboons had split the fire coming down from the ranged units, pulling away Sebastian and the Made Men. Two of the wall breakers were going to reach the first hedgehog. Big things. Muscles rippling under that bone armor of theirs. The mass of horn in the middle of their head made a brutal ram, with points curling out, then forward and up. Horns meant for ripping.

    The Disbanded Militia were braced and ready. I watched them get low, crouched over their spears. One foot pressing the butt of the spear into the cobbles, the spear tip carefully aimed low to hit the enemy¡¯s chest. And then they waited. Pressed together in their little block of ten. I could see the tension in them. Was it part of their programming? Some instinct reminding them of when they did this last?

    But they held. Whatever the system did to them, or for them, the militia held. The monsters crashed down on them, stinking things, furious eyes glaring into theirs. Ignoring any possible threat or danger. They hurled towards the barricade, and straight into the long spears waiting for them.

    There was a sound, a meaty chunk and a crash. I thought the spears would shatter. Sure of it! But like their owners, they held. Long, sharp tipped steel spearheads punched through the bone plates on the monsters, and into the organs below. The monsters couldn¡¯t even bellow in pain. Five spears in the chest per customer. No negative feedback allowed.

    Twenty bones a pop per militiaman. Bargain. They yanked out their spears and reset, as the brutal things leaked out on the cobbles in front of the hedgehog. Just another layer of barrier, now. Converted from danger to defense at the point of a town NPC.

    I looked down the street. Scattered more wall breakers were charging closer, one or two at a time. The main mass of armored and unarmored monsters were still a good way down the road. They had been torn up some by the artillery, but not too badly. Hadn¡¯t been enough time.

    Made me think about my own layout at the Tower. I didn¡¯t really have any Melee summons other than Rache and Versai, and the build reflected that. Might want to spend some time thinking about what to do when I start drawing more infantry. Test a few things out.

    Speaking of, good time to test the Spell Tower, I think.

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    ¡°Fire the Spell Tower!¡±

    There was a cry, and Madame cast the Final Revel. Damn, I should have-

    The Spell Tower rose up at the far edge of the map. Tall, narrow, like a telephone pole coming out of a pyramid with a Van Der Graaf generator at the top. Writhing, crackling blue light gathered around the ball at the top- lighting? Plasma?

    The Spell Tower struck down from on high, like the proverbial finger of God. The beam started at the base of the foremost barricade, then swept forwards. Passing, as it did, right through the cloud of magic made by the Final Revel.

    At which point things went a little sideways. The blue-white beam changed into something¡­ half real? Some of that soap bubble shimmer clung to it, seeming to morph the blue-white through every shade of every color and into colors I don¡¯t have words for. Colors my human, or human-ish, eyes could not comprehend. It spread, covering the width of the street then rolled forward. No longer snaking like a lighting-serpent, but like a tsunami flattening a seaside commercial district.

    In 1919, a storage tank holding more than two million gallons of molasses burst, flooding a couple of streets in Boston. The tank was stored at the top of a building. Casualties- twenty one dead, one hundred fifty injured. Always seemed like a weird bit of trivia to me. It¡¯s molasses. You can¡¯t outrun something moving so slow, it became the go-to cliche for something that moves really slowly?

    Watching the tumbling, thrashing, dying, monsters, I got it now. Speed is definitionally relative, and once the molasses hits you, it¡¯s over. You aren¡¯t going to be okay. The magic now had a sticky, heavy, rolling quality to it now, and it just¡­ crushed¡­ the street. The oncoming monsters kept running into it. It wasn¡¯t killing them instantly, like I expected, but honestly, that just made it worse for the monsters.

    Also interesting were the explosions of fire popping up for seemingly ¡®no reason¡¯ in apparently empty space. There were a lot more of those damned camouflaged Murder Baboons than I thought. A lot more. I tried doing a quick head-count, but couldn¡¯t keep up. We had well over a hundred targets incoming, and I hadn¡¯t been keeping count of the number already killed. Which meant that we were going to be sitting on a fat stack of bones, but this threat curve was turning vertical in a real hurry. Couldn¡¯t let up. Mustn¡¯t get complacent!

    The Spell Tower cut off it¡¯s flow of lightning, but the magic already on the street lingered for a few seconds longer. I had tried to count under my breath.

    ¡°What¡¯s a mississippi?¡± Madame looked at me side-eyed.

    ¡°A sort of two headed battle cattle. Also something we count to try and keep track of time. I¡¯d say the blast was supposed to run for¡­ two seconds? But when it hit your spell, it all slowed down. It stayed in effect for another five seconds or so.¡±

    The attack by the Spell Tower had broken the back of the wave. There were a few scattered monsters filtering in from the very far end of the map, but we had exterminated nearly all of them. The street was clogged with corpses. Good to know for the next wave. Might be something there that we could use. Rakim might just have enough time to make some modifications after all.

    ¡°Sounds about right.¡± She nodded. ¡°I¡¯m impressed you knew how to do that. Never seen that happen before.¡±

    Hmm. Brag and impress the new recruit or¡­ ahahahah. No. Not going to try that on with a woman who¡¯s whole job is managing sweaty guys trying to look cool. I¡¯m a weeb, not a moron.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I had no idea, and lost track of your casting time in the heat of things. Going to chalk that up to a happy accident.¡±

    That got a wry twist of the lips and a shallow nod. ¡°Makes sense. I was wondering because usually spells just blow up when they interact. That kind of combination effect usually requires careful planning and the exact right spells.¡±

    Yikes. Good to know.

    ¡°Thank you for the info. Do you think you could repeat that effect?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ I believe so. The Tower is designed to cast the exact same spell over and over again, without any variation. Likewise, Final Revel is a very stable spell. It shouldn¡¯t be difficult to match the timing.¡±

    ¡°Good! Good. Every extra weapon is useful.¡± Especially ones the Devs don¡¯t know you know about. But I didn¡¯t feel the need to mention that part. ¡°Any idea about those exploding monsters?¡±

    ¡°What about them?¡±

    ¡°Ever seen them before?¡±

    She gave me an unkind look. ¡°Was that a joke?¡±

    ¡°No?¡±

    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t seen the invisible monsters before.¡±

    ¡°Have you heard of them?¡±

    ¡°No. Those sorts of monsters¡­ I have to imagine that not many people survived encountering them in the field. The-¡± She said a word that I couldn¡¯t seem to hear properly. Like the word passed through my ears without making contact with my brain. ¡°Would doubtless reserve them for infiltration and assassination purposes. Not throwing them into an assault like this. They must be part of the extermination force. Can¡¯t imagine what they are doing here, honestly.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I missed a word- someone is commanding these monsters?¡±

    ¡°Yes? Obviously? What, did you think they appear like mushrooms?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know any-damn-thing about these damned monsters! Who?! Who commands them? Where do they come from?¡±

    ¡°Young man, I will not be spoken to that way! Moderate your tone Sir, or leave!¡±

    I held on to my temper with the ragged tips of my fingers. ¡°Madame, do you know where these monsters are coming from?¡±

    ¡°No, of course I don¡¯t.¡± She snapped, clearly losing her temper. ¡°Nobody does!¡±

    ¡°Then how do you know they are being commanded?¡±

    ¡°Because we have seen, and on occasion even killed, their damned commanders!¡±

    ¡°No interrogation, no carefully hidden correspondence?¡±

    ¡°They die, instantly, when they are captured. They can talk. They tell people to surrender, that we can have easy deaths if we just give up. They lie. But they never, ever, say anything true, especially about themselves.¡±

    ¡°What. Are. They. Called?¡±

    ¡°They are called Dyn Hunllef, and were it to cost my very soul, I would gladly burn for an eternity to drag every one of them down to Hell with me!¡±

    The words seemed to hammer past whatever blockage was in my ears, searing onto my brain. The knowledge hurt. Like I was ripping a stitch out of my skin. Like this was something I wasn¡¯t supposed to know, or at least, not yet.

    The sky cracked with thunder, slow clouds of flame rolling in.

    Atrocity Mode: Activated.

 Chapter 62- Balanced on a Bladeâ€™s Edge

    I looked at the words etched in blood and fire across the sky.

    ¡°Was I making too much progress? How does knowing this justify ramping the difficulty up?¡±

    I was numb. I haven¡¯t even passed wave ten. Hell, I only just passed wave five. First it was the Monster Alpha out of nowhere, and now they drop Atrocity Mode? Any chance it comes with a tool tip explaining what that means? No? No, of course not.

    ¡°RAKIM GET YOUR MIL-SPEC REAR IN GEAR! I WANT BARRICADES! I WANT EVERY-LAST-THING YOU CAN GIVE ME IN THREE MINUTES FLAT!¡±

    I was thinking about this all wrong. My artillery had elevation and in Radz''s case, nothing but plunging fire. I should be building barriers. Lots and lots of barriers. That zig-zag, stack-em-with-melee nonsense made perfect sense now, since we were running a rooftop exploit. Almost none of the fire was coming from the front, it was coming in from the sides where nothing could block their shot.

    ¡°Rakim, can you make the barriers taller or thicker if they aren¡¯t as wide?¡±

    ¡°Yes Sir!¡±

    ¡°Do it! Make ''em go back and forth!¡±

    ¡°On the double, Sir!¡±

    ¡°Madame¡¯s Regular, you go help her.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± Not really showing the pep I need right now, buddy. I glared at him, but couldn¡¯t spare more than that. The bodies flashed and vanished. I checked my pouch. Four hundred and seventy three Runed Bones. No sense in trying to guess what was worth what. I¡¯d need to spend it all if I wanted to live long enough to accumulate more.

    ¡°Madame, your working girls provide buffs and debuffs?¡±

    ¡°I assure you that while my young ladies are experts at polishing, they will not be putting those skills to use here! They know some basic cantrips, and can help others inflict elemental damage on the monsters, or make those monsters more susceptible to such damage.¡±

    Ah. Buffing was a slang phrase, wasn''t it?

    ¡°Alright, alright. And the Advanced Thugs?¡±

    ¡°Not my shop, but¡­ sounds like some of Jim¡¯s reliable contacts. Reliable for good fights in the pit and other problems requiring loud and brutal solutions.¡± She smiled prettily, her cool face warming suddenly, and you could see the beauty buried under years of late nights, liquor and fear.

    ¡°You hired them yourself on occasion?¡±

    ¡°On occasion. Less often than you would think. My bouncers were very good at not getting into fights.¡±

    ¡°Would have thought that was the job description.¡±

    ¡°Never. Inside. The. Shop.¡± She enunciated firmly. ¡°You be nice, walk them out, then beat the shoes off of them. Bad for business otherwise, and you risk breakages.¡±

    I learn so much playing this game.

    ¡°Osain, any new units?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Alright, alright. ¡°Ten more Disbanded Militia¡­¡± I quickly ran some numbers, and realized I was missing one important one. ¡°How much for the Experienced Thugs?¡±

    ¡°Ten Bones, each.¡±

    Jesus, barely more than Madame¡¯s Regulars. That says something right there.

    ¡°Alright, Ten Disbanded Militia, Ten Made Men, Five Working Girls, Four Experienced Thugs, Three French Hens, Two Turtle Doves and One Madame¡¯s Regulars.¡±

    ¡°Err¡­¡±

    ¡°Fill the orders you can actually fill, Merchant.¡±

    I had exactly one rune bone left in my pouch. I felt a sense of kinship with it. Always the odd one out. Never picked.

    ¡°Alright, Made Men and three of the Working Girls, up on the wall with Sebastian. One Working girl with the Mika¡¯s, one with the Militia. New Militia, join the old militia between the barricades. Madame¡¯s Regular, assist Rakim for now.¡±

    I looked the experienced thugs over, and discovered a happy surprise. They all looked like Russian mobsters who got huge in prison. Just covered in lousy tattoos and with fists that could double for wrecking balls. And while they were still short on proper polearms, they were carrying some utterly diabolical looking short axes.

    Not hatchets. These were proper killing tools, with a spike on the back side of the blade and another spike topping the wooden shaft. They carried an ax in each hand. They looked like they washed out of the viking raiding parties for excessive brutality. I could hardly have been happier with them. They would do a great job protecting the flanks of the militia.

    ¡°Advanced Thugs, two on either side of the disbanded Militia!¡± That ought to give any Murder Baboons a headache! I¡¯m less confident about how they could handle an ordinary monster, let alone a wall breaker or armored monster, but at least they could slow them down. Give my ranged units time to finish them off and protect my actually-useful militia.

    There is a reason spears were the definitive military weapon for most of human history. A reason why rifles still have bayonets. Long, pointy stick. Works damn near every time. Twenty of them crammed together behind the barricade made a fairly impressive force. They were now standing two ranks deep, presenting a lot of spears to the enemy.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Rakim was getting those barricades up. Just wooden walls, but she knew what I liked, and had the Regulars to assist. Thicker and higher than before, though not by much. They were also exactly two-thirds the width of the street. Zip-zip, back and forth they would go. Delightful.

    ¡°Wait! Damn! Osian, didn¡¯t you say something about having healing potions?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Can we walk into the warehouse and collect them?¡±

    ¡°Certainly not! They have to be teleported in from the alchemist¡¯s supply house.¡±

    ¡°How much?¡±

    ¡°Twenty five bones, each.¡±

    Meaning that for anything but my high level Awakened Souls and the Whales, it would be more cost effective to let the unit die and replace them rather than provide healthcare. Who would have guessed the devs were American?

    ¡°Osian, do your kidneys need a massage from my new Thug hires? Feeling like you have too many teeth?¡±

    ¡°I swear that is the lowest possible price! I¡¯m not keeping a single bone for myself!¡±

    ¡°He really is telling the truth,¡± Madame murmured. ¡°Not that I didn¡¯t try, mind you, but the Home Guard locked down all the potions as vital war material. The summoning circle required bribes of both extraordinary size and number to arrange.¡±

    I snorted. ¡°Marchioness'' orders?¡±

    ¡°Technically speaking, yes.¡±

    ¡°Technically?¡±

    There was a scream, like steel being torn in a shed where pigs are being slaughtered. Then a second scream. And a third.

    ¡°CONTACT FRONT!¡± Rakim yelled.

    Three of the giant monsters. Three of them. And a massive block of the wall breakers running out ahead. I didn¡¯t even try to count the armored monsters and regular monsters behind them. Too many, was the answer. There were too many of them.

    Those Wall Breakers would hit my barriers soon. Time to see if they would try to go through them, or follow the path. Please God let them follow the path. I don¡¯t have unlimited building materials.

    ¡°RAKIM, REGULARS, FALL BACK TO ME!¡± I yelled. ¡°Pomoroy, Radz, target the big guys. Miyuki, start breaking up the Wall Breakers. Sebastian, your team should prioritize invisible or camouflage targets, then fire on the Wall Breakers, then ordinary monsters. Mikas, Wall Breakers and the ordinary monsters. DO NOT USE SHIELD TOWER until I order it! Militia, brace for impact! Working girls, cast your spells constantly on the units near you.¡±

    The necessity of leadership units like Corporal Mika and Sebastian were really, really obvious now.

    I glanced at my aces. ¡°Versai, Madame, this is likely going to come down to you two. Madame, can you hold three if you have to?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but for how long, I can¡¯t say.¡± Her mouth was set in a grim line, but those stubborn eyes never left the enemy.

    ¡°Versai, how fast can you put them down?¡±

    ¡°If they are stuck in the Revels? It will only take a few seconds each, I think. I could feel¡­ something. In that last fight, I could feel the edges of something. There is more that can be dug out of my swordplay. I can be faster. Sharper.¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Get ready to cast Final Revel. Wait until the big guys arrive. Even if we start losing Militia, wait until the big guys arrive.¡± I felt the words sliding slickly through my mouth, like I had slipped on some dog¡¯s uncurbed mess and was falling directly into traffic.

    One. Name. They are sending a damn doomstack because I learned one name, and it¡¯s not even the name of the people who are making the monsters! Dyn Hunllef. I wouldn¡¯t forget.

    The Wallbreakers hit the first barrier¡­ and knocked it flat in one blow. I felt my blood solidify. Ten Wall Breakers got their heads down and ran straight down the street. Obstacles be damned, apparently. Miyuki was doing her best to trip them up, but that glacial rate of fire limited what she could actually achieve. There was something heroic about her, standing on a rooftop under a burning sky, bow in hand, eyes unafraid.

    My hands were white knuckles tight by my sides. Breathe. Breathe. They can¡¯t think. You have to think for them. Breathe.

    ¡°Radz, shift fire to the lead Wall Breakers!¡±

    Pomoroy¡¯s flatter attacks and higher rate of fire would result in catching more of the regular monsters following behind the big guys. It would have to be good enough for now.

    ¡°Sebastian, if you can do anything to slow them down, now is the time!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m an Intelligencer, not a Man-At-Arms! We¡¯ll shoot them down as fast as we can!¡± He shouted back.

    Damn. Damn! The Wall Breakers already had a second wall down, and had barely lost a step. They were solidly in range of my ranged units now, though, and starting to drop. Not fast enough, though, and the big guys were right behind them. DAMN!

    ¡°Mikas! Shield Tower, NOW! Target the Wall Breakers!¡± Oh this was going to suck. But I needed them stopped, NOW!

    The tower rose, blinding white in the black and red funeral pyre of Gradden March. The bolts smashed down on the Wall Breakers like a rushing river of hate. Punching into their backs and into the organs below. Armor shattering, spines and ribs breaking. The monsters broke my walls. The Mikas broke them. By the time the first giant monster reached a still-standing wall, there were only a handful of Wall Breakers left alive, and all of them were injured. Then the tower fell.

    They aren¡¯t injured. They haven¡¯t fainted. Hell, they might recover before this wave is even done. They aren¡¯t dead. I reminded myself over and over. I kept thinking of Mika¡¯s Ult as my finisher, my final resort to win the battle.

    Now? Now I had two Six Stars. Now I had support units and stacks on stacks of ranged. I had a block of spear men. I had my artillery. I had a knife and I had it up to here with these damned necromancers!

    ¡°Madame, Final Revel! Versai- full speed! Let¡¯s show them a traditional Gradden March welcome!¡±

    The Blue Roses and Madame started their chanting. Versai moved up, joining the militia. The giant monsters aren''t exactly avoiding the walls. They were kind of¡­ vaulting them. They clearly had an instinct to stay in the clear path, but they weren¡¯t as locked into it as I was used to seeing. Not ideal. Well. I¡¯d deal.

    ¡°Radz, back on the ordinary monsters. Pomoroy, you too!¡±

    They had done some damage to the big guys already. Tenderized them a bit for Versai. Versai¡­

    Versai had walked out in front of the hedgehogs. Sword and shield in front of her. She slapped her shield twice with her sword, then pointed her sword to the sky.

    ¡°GRADDEN! GRADDEN! GRADDEN¡± Her voice carried up and down the street, into every ear, hammering on the nerves in every heart.

    ¡°GLORY! GLORY! GLORY!¡± The Militia roared back. The Thugs yelled, the gangsters and the whores, even the damn regulars screamed their pride. That furious will that saw them stand and fight when millions ran.

    ¡°GRADDEN! GRADDEN! GRADDEN¡±

    ¡°GLORY! GLORY! GLORY!¡±

    The monsters came rushing in, enormous, hideous, muscles rippling, long fingers reaching. Their fangs ready to sever and crush, their eyes fixed and hungry. Hateful. Anticipating the horror to come. Fixed on the one person standing out to fight them.

    Blond hair blowing in the wind like a battle standard. Armored. Armed. Unafraid.

    ¡°VERSAI FERCH GRADDEN COMES FORTH! WHO DARES FACE ME?¡±

    ¡°GLORY! GLORY! GLORY!¡±

 Chapter 63- Fury of the March

    The giant beasts roared back, outraged by Versai¡¯s proud defiance. Not so proud that they wouldn¡¯t gang up on her, though. One from each side, and the middle one charged straight ahead. Ready to tear her into at least three pieces.

    Fair enough. She was madder than them, and aimed to leave them in even more pieces. She didn¡¯t even wait for the Revels to finish casting.

    ¡°VERMIN!¡± She yelled, launching herself shield first at the center monster. She moved through the air so fast, she looked like a blur. It had to be some kind of magic, because the enormous hand just whiffed when it moved to block her. She shield bashed the ugly thing and put it on the ground. Since it was heading down anyway, she tagged along. Landing iron-boots first on its neck.

    The other two monsters were a single step away. They were big, but they were plenty quick. They would be on her in a second. Versai flipped her grip on her sword. One second was plenty long enough.

    Who¡¯d have thought an aristocrat would give someone the Trotsky treatment?

    Versai put her boot on the monster¡¯s throat and started stabbing straight down. Her hand was a blur, stabbing faster and faster. Her bright steel blade was a blur, then a single solid line of steel, tearing open a hole, then widening it. Then deepening it. Faster and faster and faster, the hole in the horror¡¯s neck spread from the size of a few finger¡¯s width, to a fist, to a leg. By the time the monster managed to get a paw up and try to defend itself, Versai could have lodged her shield in there. She jumped clear of the body, painted black in her enemy¡¯s blood.

    The monsters came in swinging, forcing her to move, dodging their stomps and swipes. I was worried about the lack of space to move around in, but I needn¡¯t have bothered. She was using the monster¡¯s own enormous size against them. She quickly moved to stack them up, using the one in front to block the ones in back.

    I was surprised to see the monster with a hole in its neck standing up. Blood was pouring out, spraying out in firehose blasts, but it stood. Some dreadful vitality was driving it on. It wasn¡¯t healing, but it would bring my soldiers down to Hell with it when it died. I felt it¡¯s hate, ravenous, unending hate, when we locked eyes.

    It would have to die mad. Madame unleashed the Final Revel. I watched its eyes lose focus. The hate was still there, deepening as it lost itself inside whatever magical fog it was trapped in. The hate was simply useless now. I welcomed it. The more it hated me, the less it noticed the corrosion around the wound. The way the Final Revel weakened that savage vitality. The less it noticed its steps slowing. Those gushers of blood weakening and thinning.

    Spin and spin on the carousel. Spin and spin, lost in the lights and noise. Lost until you can¡¯t see anything at all, ever again. The monster fell with a dull thud. Its staring, hateful eyes soon covered by the severed hand of its comrade.

    Versai wasn¡¯t staring the monsters down. She was taking them apart. The revels slowed them to a crawl. Not only were they no longer pressing forward, they weren¡¯t able to keep track of Versai. They thrashed wildly. Slamming against each other. Ripping each other. Providing Versai with the most marvelous dummies for her new exploit.

    I had noticed that the character sheets had a speed rating for the Awakened Souls, but not an attack speed. Versai couldn¡¯t see her own sheet, but she had long ago figured out the gist. She could only ever run so fast, but she could attack as fast as she pleased.

    Did you know that your arms are, in many ways, the least important muscles in a swordfight? It¡¯s like boxing, apparently. It¡¯s about the back and the all important legs. Get your weight behind the blow, that¡¯s where the damage comes from. The arms help, but mainly, they are there to steer. It was news to me. Versai apparently learned it before she could read.

    It wouldn¡¯t have occurred to me to find a movement speed glitch in the form of endless assault. It was blindingly obvious to Versai. An ¡°attack¡± could consist of one, or even several, steps. So as long as you were really attacking, those steps were covered by ¡°attack speed¡± and not by ¡°speed.¡±  The actual limit was, therefore, Versai¡¯s ability to process what she was seeing, and the system insisting that attacks be launched at valid targets.

    And come glorious day, I would figure out how to explain all that to my non-six-star units.

    She was quick to begin with. She became impossibly fast, quickly. The system required a target be valid, not that you actually hit it. She looked like a lunatic, violently thrashing the air. At least, while I was still able to see her. As she understood the exploit more and more, I started losing sight of her.

    Jets of blood sprayed from arteries in the legs. Joints were severed and fell without anyone seeing who did it. Tendons cut and snapped like steel cables, thrashing around inside the monsters. I couldn¡¯t imagine the kind of pain they were in. She was moving faster than my eyes could follow now. Hacking away at them. Retreating with a defensive chop, advancing with a cut. Faster and faster.

    She wasn¡¯t the girl who left Gradden March. Wasn¡¯t even the woman who died in the Queen¡¯s Guards. She was in a doll body, same as me. Versai didn¡¯t get tired. Her hands didn¡¯t tremble with fatigue. Sweat didn¡¯t get in her eyes. Her lungs never burned with a need for air, for a single breath. She could put all that fury and horror and endless brutality on the edge of her blade.

    That hand went flying off like it was getting miles on the company¡¯s dime. By the time it hit the dying monster¡¯s face, the opposite foot was missing. Gashes as long as my forearm had opened up across the femoral arteries in the legs. The utter shower of blood reminded me of those ads for fancy homes, with shower heads on both walls as well as directly above.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    It was an absurd thought, but when Versai briefly stopped to line up on the third and final monster, I couldn¡¯t find her fit at all funny. She looked like Carrie was about to light up the party. She had more blood on her outside than most people had on their insides. Then she vanished from my sight, and the butchery began again.

    She worked it from the ankles up. Hack through on one side, then kick off the calf to hack into the other side. Up and over to pop off the knee, then kick off the thigh to hack open the other one. A slash across the gut when it tried to rise up, spilling out fire-hose guts and stinking black bile. Chopping off fingers when they reached out to crush her. Taking an eye that dared to glare at her.

    There was a scream, a furious outraged shouted at the top of a sweet voice, from the depths of strong lungs. A silver blurr ringed the monster¡¯s neck. Once, twice, three times and the giant¡¯s hideous head went spinning off, skidding along the cobblestones as celebratory jets of blood sprayed from the monster''s neck. In death, the monster was convinced- the victor deserved her laurels.

    Versa stood on top of the mutilated head. The blood slicked sword raised over her head as the gore slid off her.

    ¡°VERSAI FERCH GRADDEN HAS PROVEN HER VALOR! WHO DARES DISAGREE?!¡± Sebastian roared from the rooftop.

    ¡°GLORY! GLORY! GLORY!¡±

    The whole street was shouting. I was shouting. Madame and the Blue Roses were shouting. Osain was crying, that slime was crying and screaming ¡°GLORY!¡± at the top of his lungs. The crossbows couldn¡¯t seem to shoot fast enough, the cannons fired, all were screaming out in triumph.

    The monsters kept coming, a boiling hoard of them, and not a single damn person minded. Send more. Send lots more. Send all you have. The Floating Quarter was waiting for them. Versai stood under the cheers, sword raised. Her face had some indescribable emotion. Vindication? Relief? Wonder?

    What would it be like, to be a champion, to be the Queen¡¯s Bodyguard, then get mobbed by weaklings over and over again? To be brutalized and dissected by animals you could kill with a casual backhand, all because of the poor luck or poor leadership of people not fit to carry your shoes? What would it do to your mind?

    What would it be like to prove them all wrong? To stand on that stage. To stand under those lights, weapon in hand, and prove to everyone that you are strong. That your life wasn¡¯t a lie. What would it be like to prove to yourself that you took a beating, but weren¡¯t beaten?

    I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ll never know. That stage is reserved for heroes. But I can set that stage. I can sweep the floor and hang the lights. I have that power. I can cheer from the side. I have that much dignity.

    The insane self esteem of a weeb. It wasn¡¯t much. But so what? I wasn¡¯t worth much. But I had heroes to look up to. Why would I look away? That really would be too poor.

    ¡°GLORY! GLORY! GLORY!¡±

    Wasn¡¯t I yelling right along with them? Welcoming my hero home, back to the battlement.

    The hoards of regular and armored monsters were stuck winding between the walls as my ranged units gave them hell. Miyuki seemed to be aiming for a high score on how many she could nail together with one shot. Sebastian didn¡¯t let up for even a second, and it wasn¡¯t long until the Mikas were back up and at it. Still, in these numbers, some did reach the front lines.

    The militia immediately showed why they were worth the money. Disciplined ranks of spears jabbed forward, killing the monsters and forcing them back. Forcing them to climb a growing mountain of corpses, backed by the portioned up remains of the giants and the skewered Wall Breakers.

    We were swimming in guts by the end of it. I hope Gradden March had good storm drains, because all the blood would be testing it hard. It was savage. It was bloody. It was a triumph.

    ¡°Miyuki, any more incoming?¡±

    ¡°Miyuki sees only the slain!¡±

    I smiled fiercely. No system pop up. ¡°Madame¡¯s Regulars, Rakim, get out there and make repairs. Improve what you can. This ain¡¯t over yet!¡±

    ¡°My God. All these years, I¡¯ve been damning ap Gradden as a butcher and a careless lord. But if this is what he¡¯s been fighting out in the Iron Hills¡­¡± Madame¡¯s voice trailed off. ¡°Well, I¡¯m never apologizing to that man, but I certainly understand him better.¡±

    ¡°Looking at the numbers, this might count as a skirmish or platoon level engagement.¡± Versai sounded detached. ¡°In practice, though, Father doesn¡¯t engage the monsters in any numbers smaller than a company. They are just too fast, and it''s too easy for a unit to be surrounded and overwhelmed. Never heard about giant monsters before, but that doesn¡¯t mean much.¡±

    ¡°How many types of monsters are there?¡±

    ¡°Nobody knows. The base monsters never change, but you do see other varieties come and go. Generally, they get stronger the better you defend against them. We don¡¯t know where they come from, either.¡± Sebastian materialized next to me. I didn¡¯t jump. It was a jolt at most.

    ¡°Nobody knows?¡±

    ¡°Not like we haven¡¯t been searching and trying to find out.¡±

    ¡°And those¡­ Dyn Hunllef?

    ¡°We battled the monsters for more than ten years before we confirmed they existed. It was two more years before we managed to capture one, and it died on the spot.¡± Sebastian¡¯s voice was hard. ¡°I, myself, have been on operations against them. A dreadful foe.¡±

    ¡°What do they look like?¡±

    ¡°Smaller than a regular monster, bigger than the infiltrator.¡± Sebastian spread his hands helplessly. ¡°No two have looked quite alike.¡±

    ¡°Well that¡¯s alarming.¡±

    ¡°Mmm. Not what concerns me, though.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°We still haven¡¯t a single clue as to why it¡¯s happening.¡±

    I looked down the corpse-strewn street. There was a flash of light, and suddenly, it was clean. Just that simple. Bodies gone, glory gone, money in the pocket, get ready to do it all again. And again. And again.

 Chapter 64- Bloody Hands

    I quickly checked how many bones I earned and almost went blind. Should have slowed down. Eased into it. That is a lot of zeroes.

    ¡°Osain, any new units I can recruit? Any new anything?¡±

    ¡°Yes! You can get Scrapyard Lansiwr Gwaywffon, and you can recruit the Ancient and Honorable Birdwatching Society.¡±

    Time was at an absolute premium, but I still had to take a second to try, and fail, to process that. ¡°Lancer Gainfon?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°What the hell is the first thing you mentioned?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a Lansiwr Gwaywffon. But those are illegal to own by civilians and not the kind of thing that can fall off a supply wagon, so these are made from bits of scrap metal, wood and rope. Not as long ranged or powerful as the military sort, but the fact that they exist at all is pretty damn incredible.¡±

    ¡°Right. Yes. What. Are. They?¡±

    ¡°Does what it says in the name.¡± Versai was giving me one of her very ¡®patient¡¯ looks. ¡°It launches spears. They have some fletching on them, but it is what it is. A damn spear.¡±

    ¡°Ballista. Or a scorpion.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± She gave me a very blank look now. But no, I was out. Done with that one. Sounded good, would check prices. For now-

    ¡°And the birders?¡±

    ¡°The Ancient and Honorable Birdwatching Society is a group of retired gentlemen who enjoy long walks in the country, watching the birds and occasionally hunting small, unregulated game like rabbits or pigeons for their famous club dinners.¡±

    The top of the wall got very chilly all of a sudden. I looked around and found Madame and Versai staring daggers at Osain. He couldn¡¯t meet their eyes.

    ¡°Bowmen. You slimy, miserable, wretched little man! You think I don¡¯t know what you sold? You think anyone in Shaddek Square didn¡¯t know what you kept behind the red door?¡± Madame¡¯s voice came out in a long hiss.

    Versai didn¡¯t bother condemning him. She just pulled out her bright blade and started walking closer.

    ¡°I arranged it, not him. They reached out to me to volunteer. Discreetly. I paid a certain price.¡± Sebastian materialized in front of Versai. His usual humor was entirely gone.

    ¡°Uncle?¡±

    ¡°I know. I know. Nobody who stayed in the Quarter expected to survive the night, Versai. Most of the ones who ran weren¡¯t optimistic about survival either. Not on foot or with farm wagons. I got the Society¡¯s families out, all the way out to the M?r Glas, where a fast ship awaits them.¡±

    ¡°Bowmen. Retired, honorably retired Bowmen.¡± I could hear the tears in her voice.

    ¡°I know.¡±

    His hands rose, wanting to hug her. Held back by the time and place.

    ¡°I don¡¯t. I¡¯m sorry, but can you explain?¡±

    They yanked their attention back to me. Grief. Pride. Frustration. So many emotions drifting across their faces. It was Madame who spoke first.

    ¡°Anyone can pick up a crossbow. A week or two of training and you are as competent as anyone, really. Bows are different. It takes years of hard training to use a longbow well. More than a decade to be an expert. They start young. The bows they use are very heavy. It starts warping their spines. Their right arm and the right side of their back gets much more muscly than the left. They try to train to even it out but it doesn¡¯t work very well.¡±

    She took a deep breath. ¡°It hurts. All the time. My girls offered half price massages to Bowmen even before the Monsters started pressing in. Anything to take the edge off the pain.¡±

    ¡°But we needed them.¡± Sebastian¡¯s voice was bleak. ¡°Always have. Always will. You can enchant a crossbow, but it¡¯s damned expensive and it wears out eventually. Your ladies across the way have a discipline tied to their shields, I think. But a bowman can use disciplines with their bows. Which means each of them is an utter nightmare on the battlefield, for decades. It is an honorable life of immense sacrifice, and very few live to reach retirement. We enshrine their bows when they die, preserving them for the next generation.¡±

    ¡°They earned their peace.¡± Versai¡¯s voice was brittle. ¡°That¡¯s the deal. You do your twenty, then you get to retire. You can count your meals and your roof on the Gradden family. Four generations, now. Longer, if you count the time before we established the March. You get to be done. You get to try and heal.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t quite wrap my head around it. Like some combination of Witchers and special forces, tied up with some cultural thing. The key thing was, they were badasses.

    ¡°Osain, how many of each can I recruit?¡±

    ¡°Up to ten Lansiwr Gwaywffon,¡±

    ¡°We gonna call ¡®em ballista.¡±

    ¡°What? What does that even mean?¡±

    ¡°It means, tell me how much each Scrapyard Ballista costs.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°A hundred Runed Bones.¡±

    ¡°And the¡­ honorable retirees?¡±

    ¡°Two hundred. Each. Maximum of five.¡±

    The disbanded militia cost twenty. I sucked my teeth a bit. End game units. If this wave wasn¡¯t the last, we were nearing the end. It said something that the last wave hadn¡¯t kettled up enough bodies to trigger Crusher Jim¡¯s appearance. I checked my pouch. Rounded down, it worked out to fifteen hundred rune bones. So¡­ I couldn¡¯t max out my supply of both endgame units. I hmm¡¯ed a bit.

    ¡°Guessing the Ballistas aren¡¯t very mobile?¡±

    ¡°Well. Matter of perspective, I guess. Compared to other siege engines, they are very mobile.¡± Osain smiled.

    ¡°So, for our purposes, not mobile.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Alright, I¡¯ll take your whole stock of em. Then ten more Disbanded militia¡­¡± that left me three hundred. Hmmm. HMMMM.

    ¡°What has a more powerful effect on improving damage output- the Whales or your working girls?¡±

    ¡°Whales, and it¡¯s not even close.¡± Madame shook her head. ¡°My girls can enhance a few people a bit. Whales can enhance three people a hell of a lot.¡±

    I did some high speed math. Whales were thirty bones. I could get ten at most, but¡­ ¡°Three of the Whales, one of the Birdwatchers.¡±

    The ballistae¡­ were a disappointment. After all the emphasis on ¡°they launch spears,¡± I expected something a little longer. The ballistae were about three and a half, maybe four feet long. The launchers were dragged around on a little three wheeled cart. Big, crossbow style metal arms out front, a windlass was at the back. Each came with a two man crew.

    ¡°Can we get them up on this wall?¡± I asked. It wasn¡¯t particularly crowded up here, mostly me, Versai, Madame, the Blue Roses and the Regulars.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Madame nodded, looking a little proud. Why shouldn¡¯t she be proud? She sold her shoes to build them. I stationed the whales behind them. Each whale could cover three, which notionally left one out, but I could accept the trade-off for now.

    The Birdwatcher was an odd duck. His right side was clearly over-muscled, though not grotesquely so. He walked with a bit of a hunch, a bit of a twist to his spine. I wished I had some way to help him. I didn¡¯t.

    ¡°A pleasure to meet you, sir. Please join the rest of our archers up on the rooftop.¡±

    ¡°An old haunt, to be sure.¡± He grinned, and got on the roof with alarming ease. Time to see what a hero of the March could do.

    My defenses were rebuilt and improved, as best the Regulars and Rakim could manage. I had a ton of firepower lined up. At some point, Jim would crash the party. Was everything set?

    NO! DAMN!

    ¡°RAKIM! RIGHT damn now get down here and grab those sandbags! Checkerboard them, one bag high, across the street in front of the barricades and the walls. NOW! NOW! NOW!¡±

    Please let it be in time. Please please please.

    She only got three rows down before the cry ¡°Incoming!¡± rang out. It would have to do. The oncoming wave came heavy, the block of Wall Breakers in front was so big, I felt like they filled the whole street.

    ¡°Back on the roof, Rakim. Regulars, back on the wall. Pomoroy, Radz, fire at will.¡± No priority targets here.

    Miyuki, bless her little cotton tabi, had already started nailing them to the floor. The results were colorful. She could only shoot once every thirty five seconds, but the pinned, hippo sized Wall Breaker would instantly become a roadblock to all the monsters coming behind. A wall, if you will. So the Wall Breakers coming up the road behind them would lower their heads and try to run right through them.

    The phrase ¡°organ pi?ata,¡± while visceral, hardly does it justice. Particularly since the monsters would then trip, flip, slip, and generally be an impediment to traffic in their own right. And the beautiful cycle repeats. Miyuki, ah! If only you were slightly less Yandere.

    It knocked out a few of them, but they were coming by the fives and tens. It didn¡¯t take them long to build up speed. A few more seconds and they were at the checkerboard sandbags. I silently crossed my fingers.

    The bags were heavy, dense fabric. Coarse and rough. Filled with sand and whatever tiny gravel came with it. The bags were about the length and width of a pillow, and when laid flat were a foot tall. Or, put another way, for a low-slung quadruped that was running fast, they were about shin high.

    What came next was beautiful. They were in range of my crossbow units now, and they were wiping out. By keeping the sandbags flat on the ground, I didn''t give the Wall Breakers something to ram into. The bags survived the impact, because they only caught a tiny bit of the force. The street got the real beating, as the armored hulks smashed down. Easy meat for the rooftop shooters.

    The bowman was looking very casual. Not even drawing his bow, in fact. Just kind of looking around, vaguely approving. Possibly wondering about the availability of rice pudding later. It was that kind of face.

    ¡°Senior Bowman, you can fire at will.¡±

    ¡°Yep. That¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do. Fire at will.¡±

    Fantastic. I am so glad I spent major money on this guy.

    ¡°Ballista, fire when they are in range.¡±

    There was silence. I buried my face in my hands. ¡°Lansiwr Gwaywffon, fire at will, targeting the Wall Breakers. Whales, use your rings on them.¡±

    I swear I didn¡¯t pronounce that right, but they seemed to understand me anyhow. There was the most incredible TWANG sound. The bolts didn''t go as far as I might have liked- barely a hundred yards. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to care. Each one plowed through four or five monsters before coming to a stop, and the crews were spinning those windlasseses back fast. I counted under my breath

    ¡°Twenty seconds. Twenty seconds per volley. Call it forty monsters dead every twenty seconds, at long range. My God.¡± I murmured, stunned. If I could just manufacture these for the Tower¡­ I could hardly imagine it. The game would be over. Victory by artillery.

    Not like my other shooters were being idle either. The Mikas and Sebastian¡¯s ¡®legitimate businessmen¡¯ were shooting with a will. We had cleared out the Wall Breakers before they could do any major damage, but the sheer numbers of regular and armored monsters were quickly getting insane. Pomoroi and Radz would tear chunks out of them, long gashes and sudden voids, but they filled in almost instantly.

    We couldn¡¯t do enough damage, fast enough, to stop them from reaching the outer walls. Even having them zig zagging, clogging the narrow alleys with their bodies, we didn¡¯t do enough damage. They reached the hedgehogs, and the militia¡­ and stopped. The militia held.

    Spears, row after row of spears, dove in and out. The militia was well used to stabbing over the shoulders and heads of the people in front of them. They formed three lines, and got to work. When a monster managed to reach through everything and injure someone, they were pulled out of line and passed back to Pammy and Maria for healing. It¡­ worked. For now. Because while we were holding them and killing them, more and more were piling up. Sooner or later, they would be able to overwhelm our lines.

    I gripped my wrists behind my back. The urge to fire the Spell Tower was strong, but¡­ not yet. Not yet. More and more monsters piled in. Practically filled the street. But not. Quite. Yet.

    ¡°Up you get lads. I¡¯ll come by in a moment.¡± I could feel a mountain arriving behind me. Crusher Jim was here. It was all going to go very, very badly. For the monsters.

 Chapter 65- The Cowardâ€™s Test

    Nothing good could be said about the sons of Crusher Jim, except this- they were strong. Terrifyingly strong. They jumped up to the top of the wall in a single step, then down to the ground and into melee with the monsters in two more. The front line exploded into ribbons of skin and garlands of gore. Meat was pulverized and sent flying with teeth and toes and shattered bones.

    Nothing good could be said about the sons of Crusher Jim. That was just fine with them. They knew exactly what they were, and liked it. It made perfect sense for them to be monsters. Just look at their old man.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Daphnae?¡± I asked, trying to force some cheer into my voice.

    ¡°She¡¯s about.¡± Jim just shrugged, plainly not giving a damn about his daughter or my attempted cheer. He looked calmly over the monsters. Not giving a damn about them either.

    ¡°This is what it was all for- your place, Sebastian¡¯s place, Madame¡¯s place. All for this. Re-fighting the battle for the Floating Quarter of Gradden March.¡± I could hear myself babbling. Not sure why I was babbling. Realization didn¡¯t take long to arrive.

    Fear. I was scared of Jim. The same fear I felt when I first saw the monsters. Jim knew it too. And ignored it. He didn¡¯t care about me enough to value my fear.

    ¡°Apparently we just need to hold out until the Home Guard gets here. The monsters come in waves. Shouldn¡¯t be many waves left until the Guard comes and puts a stop to them.¡± I forced a smile.

    Jim spat. I half expected the phlegm to punch a hole through the stone. ¡°They couldn¡¯t stop my gran.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a fighter?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s dead.¡±

    Funny how you can be somewhere deafeningly loud, and somehow, it becomes a deafening silence. The queue of monsters was¡­ insane. Was this the atrocity of the atrocity mode? Monsters seemingly without end, pouring in. I could imagine what these numbers would do to a city. It was¡­ impossible. A cauldron of Hell.

    I felt my tendons tighten. My nerves twisting like the cord in the windlasses that powered the ballistae. Once they reached a certain point, I couldn¡¯t restrain myself any further.

    ¡°Madame! Final Revel. I¡¯m triggering the Spell Tower, same as last time!¡±

    Madame and the Blue Roses started their wailing polyphonic chant, raising that cloud of magic. Once the timing was about right, I triggered the Spell Tower, and watched the glorious carnage. The rippling colors vibrating through the air, melting away monsters in their hundreds and leaving a murderous trap behind. Only the monsters trapped between the walls remained. For the moment.

    Then more arrived, pouring down the end of the street.

    ¡°Insane. We have already slaughtered more monsters than the first few waves combined. Maybe all the previous waves combined.¡± I muttered. ¡°How the hell is anyone expected to clear this?¡±

    ¡°They ain¡¯t.¡± The ballistae were rattling out their long bolts. Pomoroy and Radz were letting their guns speak, slaughtering the monsters as they piled towards us.

    ¡°We were set up to fail?¡±

    ¡°There was never any stopping the monsters. There was only delaying what would come, and hoping for a miracle. Hope.¡± His boulder fists flexed and relaxed, then flexed again.

    ¡°Longer you live, the more you can learn about the enemy. The better chance you can find their origin and kill them.¡±

    ¡°Oh, aye? Amazing that nobody tried that.¡±

    I shut up. The monsters were still coming in, but they were coming as a stream, not a tsunami. We could handle them. I slowly calmed myself. There would be something. Some new twist. They sent three oversized monsters before. Would they go for five now? Seven? Three again but invisible? Flying units? The eternally feared and expected ranged units?

    There was a scream of rage as something emerged from behind the buildings and fires at the end of the street. Not  three giants or five or seven, but one. A titan the size of seven giants combined. It could casually wipe my ranged units off the top of the buildings with a swipe of its hands.

    I would feel bad if the mafiosi died, but I could live with myself, eventually. Not if Mika died, though. I¡­ don¡¯t think I would ever come out of that hole.

    ¡°EVERYONE OFF THE ROOFS RIGHT THIS SECOND! NOW, NOW, NOW!¡±

    The Made Men and the no longer casual looking bowman got off almost instantly, the Young Gentlemen right on their heels. The Mikas, though¡­

    The giant came lumbering towards us, moving on all fours. Moving like a bear. Like the nightmare of a bear. The Mikas were too slow. It was going to reach them in seconds.

    ¡°Oh, I think even my old eyes can spot that fella.¡± The old Bowman stood on the wall now, looking excessively casual. He raised his longbow. ¡°I¡¯ll just take it slow. Ehehehehehe.¡± The old man¡¯s right hand turned into a blurr. It was like a hose of white light stretched from his fingertips and into the eye of the monster. The monster screamed and reared back. I couldn¡¯t count all the shafts sticking out of the eye socket. Twenty? Thirty?

    Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Not bad at all, Jones.¡± Jim nodded approvingly. ¡°How¡¯s the missus?¡±

    ¡°Oh, still going on about the curtains. You know she¡¯s a devil about curtains.¡±

    ¡°Aye, I hear they can get that way. Wouldn¡¯t know mesself. Hold a tick, just need to see a gent about his tab.¡±

    Jim stepped off the wall like he was stepping off a curb. He plunged into the mess of monsters, ignoring his sons and slapping aside anything in his way. Like he was out for a stroll, and waving away some flies. The mess of blood and flesh left in his wake¡­ the sheer smell of it all, rolling up the wall and drawing us in the stench of violence.

    The titanic monster was fixated on the wall now, galloping towards us with its brows lowered. It was moving in a sort of three legged gait, with one all too human hand coming up to protect its face. The old bowman, Jones, chuckled.

    ¡°Ah. Youth.¡± He raised his bow once more and started shooting again. This time, aiming for the joints in the fingers of the enormous hand. The monster¡¯s scream went off like a fire alarm in the ear drum. Didn¡¯t slow down Jones one bit. He just kept crippling the hand. It had the happy side effect of slowing the titan. Giving the Mikas that little bit more time. I had never minded their slowness before. Now it was killing me. I just hoped it wouldn¡¯t kill them.

    I could hear, even at a distance, even over the screams and the crash of flesh and blades, the dragging shields ripping up the roof tiles. Watching those hard women do what they hated- fall back. Well. They could hate it all they wanted. They could hate me all they wanted. I¡¯d take that heat. I¡¯d been hiding behind their big shields this whole time and I didn¡¯t intend to stop now.

    Jim pushed through the swarms of hateful monsters. He shrugged off the residue magic of the combined Revels and the Tower too- it seemed to be no mind to him. How? How? Was there no such thing as friendly fire in this world? I don¡¯t believe it. And how was he able to constantly keep the monsters from reaching him? He was surrounded by the horrors. Drowning in the horrors! I didn¡¯t have lungs and I still couldn''t breathe watching him. Like my non-existent heart was in my non-existent throat.

    Jim looked like he was off to see a man about a dog. He shoulder checked a six hundred pound monster, and the monster crumpled in on itself. Deformed so thoroughly, I couldn¡¯t imagine the monster having a single intact bone remaining. Jim didn¡¯t notice. He was making for the titan. The Titan was making for us. And even on all fours, its head was over the rooftops.

    Those damn shields! They rattled and clattered over the rooftops. So damn reassuring, until they were deadly damned inconvenient. I tried to calm myself. They were reaching the edge of the rooftop. The bowman was holding aggro like a champ. Crusher Jim would meet the monster soon. I couldn¡¯t tear my eyes away from them.

    The stream of mobs was being handled. It was all about the Titan now. The creature''s left hand was ruined. I didn¡¯t really understand what the old bowman had been up to, until the monster tried to shift how it was holding its hand. Just a tiny contraction, and it screamed. It came to a full stop in the middle of the street and its dripping, foul mouth screamed fit to shatter the air.

    Jones, retired Bowman of the March, had destroyed the joints in the monster¡¯s hand. All the knuckles, and likely most of the wrist too. Worse, the glowing arrows were still stuck in there, shredding nerves and cartilage with every pull of a tendon. The pain was, judging by the twisting monstrous face and heartrending screams, agonizing.

    I couldn¡¯t help noticing that the second the monster screamed, the very second it froze and recoiled in pain, Crusher Jim rushed forward. He smashed aside everything in his path. He smelled an opportunity. So he took it.

    Jim reached the one paw that was propping up the front of the monster. As enormous as Jim was, the hand alone could have covered his entire body. It wouldn¡¯t have a chance. He swung that heavy right fist of his. There was a visible ripple in the air, some inexplicable change in the local air pressure. The middle of the paw vaporized.

    I don¡¯t have any other way to describe it. It wasn¡¯t even an explosion. The bones, thick, hard, strong enough to support the weight of a titan, simply vanished. The muscle, strong enough to crush homes and city walls, vanished. Tendons like steel cables, vanished. One blow, and there wasn¡¯t even a meat puree left behind.

    Jim wasn¡¯t even bloody. He stepped back quickly, before the geyser of blood could reach him.

    The monster shrieked, the agony on its inhuman face twisting obscene features. It couldn¡¯t even clutch its hand- one had a hole in it, the other had its joints destroyed. It reared up onto its hind legs, towering over the buildings. I wondered if it could scrape the top of the skybox.

    I didn¡¯t have the chance to find out. Jim nipped behind the monster¡¯s foot, and snapped it¡¯s achilles tendon with another punch. A third obliterated the ankle. Screaming and thrashing, the monster fell over backwards. Howling. It was ugly to watch. I hated the monsters. Hated them. But this was a brutal thing. A slow, helpless death.

    Jim jumped onto the monster¡¯s chest and strolled towards the center. No shouts of triumph. No flexing. Just another day¡¯s work. Crusher Jim would crush you. Didn¡¯t matter who ¡®you¡¯ were. You would still be crushed by him.

    ¡°Miyuki sees the snake hidden in the grass!¡± A brilliant arrow flew the length of the street and stopped. Stuck into something I couldn¡¯t see. Something four stories in the air.

    ¡°Blimey, my eyes really are going.¡± The bowman shouted, then started shooting again. Some vast, invisible, force smashed Jim to one side, blowing him into a boarded-up shop. More and more arrows thudded into that invisible hulk. They jutted out, the glowing lights throwing strange shadows. I blinked, and then I could see it.

    Not just a monster titan, one of the Murder Baboons, built to a titan¡¯s scale. The faintly glowing arrows accumulated on the body, breaking up its eye-deceiving coloration and patterns.

    ¡°VERSAI! The tower is still on cool-down! Get that damned thing off my street!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my dad¡¯s street! And on it!¡±

    ¡°Madame-¡±

    ¡°Far outside my range, and I can¡¯t cast the Final Revel again so soon. My Glass Arrow would barely touch it.¡±

    There were still swarms of monsters streaming in. They hadn¡¯t let up. Hundreds of them, pouring down the street and hitting the barricades. Most of them were practically untouched, since all the ranged units were off the roofs. ¡°Sebastian, Mr. Jones, back up on the roof. Mikas-¡±

    They were behind the wall. It would take them forever to get back up on the roof, and I needed the firepower now. ¡°Mikas, crowd together on the wall, and fire over the heads of the Militia.¡±

    Atrocity mode, well named.

    I desperately tried to think if there was something else I could do, some other card to play. Nothing came to mind. Damn. It would be down to the heroes now.

    ¡°FOR THE MARCH! RAAAAAH!¡± It came from behind. I turned around. Dozens, fifty, a hundred, I don¡¯t know how many armored halberdiers came charging up from behind us. The Home Guard had arrived. I sagged with relief. Until I saw who came behind them. A blood-stained man, bearded, wearing a steel mask. Long hands. Looking like a priest. Or a reverend.

 Chapter 66- A Weeb Roars

    I could feel that pit in my stomach, the sinking weight that pulls down your guts when you realize that you have severely messed up, and things aren¡¯t magically going to get better. I had forgotten to deliver Daphnae''s letter to Madame. I hadn¡¯t asked her about the Reverend, and his connection to the monsters. I didn¡¯t close that loop. I turned to her, urgently, desperately, but the Home Guard were on us.

    There was a fanatic look in their eye. I could smell the stink on them- sweat and dried piss and metal. Blood. They stank of madness. They stank of magic. The raid would end when the Home Guard arrived. As they pushed through my lines, notionally going to fight the monsters, I could see exactly how they would ¡°save the day.¡±

    Versai was locked down fighting one Titan on top of another Titan. Sebastian was too far away- really, all my hero characters were too far away, or already tangled up with the armored halberdiers of the home guard. My¡­ almost entirely ranged focused summons. Once the word was given, they were dead.

    This was it. Game over. I lost. Got so focused on running exploits, I forgot the basics of an RPG. If you have a quest item to deliver, you damn well deliver it. The only exception is to run an exploit, and there was no exploit to run here. Just¡­ death. Just the bad ending. Maybe not as bad as some other endings, if I could manage to get hacked apart by halberds. But a bad ending nevertheless.

    No more strategies to try. No more clever maneuvers. All my pieces had been taken off the board. The mystery behind the fall of Gradden March¡¯s Floating Quarter revealed itself, like gears biting each other, teeth grinding to haul back the curtain.

    The Marchioness was an idiot, almost certainly neglected and cuckolded by the Marquess, despised by her children, and universally held in contempt by the citizenry, had been left in charge of the city. Presumably under the adult supervision of Sebastian and various competent servants. Unfortunately, she had the ultimate decision making power, and she lacked the wit and the guts to make any decisions. A position that was encouraged by her spiritual advisor, the Reverend.

    The Reverend with his hand-like feet. No one had mentioned an iron mask before. Maybe it was new. The holes in him looked new. Must have been that ¡°Circus¡± or whatever Madame sent with one of Daphnae¡¯s friends. Guess it wasn¡¯t enough. Dyn Hunllef don¡¯t go down easily. I¡¯d known for ages the only thing keeping us alive was monster stupidity. Once they could choose to wait, to employ strategy and tactics- we were dead.

    And now we are dead. The last spark of resistance in the city. Undermined by the Marchioness and the Dyn Hunllef, then literally stabbed in the back by the mind-controlled Home Guard. Some people never reached the battlefield in the first place. Some didn¡¯t have the necessary equipment. But in the end, it was the dagger in the back that finished them off. The monsters winning not by numbers and brutality, but by exploiting humanity¡¯s emotional weaknesses.

    The halberdiers minced the monsters. The difference between a random thug and the militia was night and day. The difference between a regular soldier and a militiaman¡­ the difference between candle and the sun. At least here in Gradden March. If it was in reach of their halberd, it died. Nothing even came close to them. Limbs were hacked off, heads and hearts speared, they were a solid block of massacre. Focused on the monsters, yes, but enveloping all my troops.

    I felt that weakness that the Dyn Hunllef had been exploiting in the Marchioness. If I moved, I would die. If I tried to get someone else to move, I would die. If I didn¡¯t do something, I would die. And no matter what, everyone would be dying with me.

    It was a tower defense game built on gacha mechanics, and I didn¡¯t want to play it in the first place. Fair? If you want fair, don¡¯t be kidnapped by necromancers and shoved into a doll body in their death game.

    I tried to breathe, to figure out what I could possibly do. Every second made my situation worse. The Home Guard got more enmeshed in my troops. My heroes had all their attention nailed down. And the Dyn Hunllef was strolling over. Looking very pious. Very motivated. Body language-wise, the mask hid the face.

    Isn¡¯t my life supposed to flash before my eyes? Some divine moment of revelation? Something? Anything? I saw the burning chaos of the quarter. I saw the flying blood and gore. I saw the arrows and the magic and my ears were going deaf with the sounds of clashing, crashing blades on vile flesh. I even saw the stupid flower shop, its buckets of flowers still offering cheap bouquets on the roadside.

    Here, monsters. Let it never be said I¡¯m a poor loser. Enjoy these flowers along with your well earned victory.

    I mean, I was doing okay. Living by myself in New York City? I was doing way better than a lot of people. My eyes fixed on the flower shop. Something nice to look at. You know. Given everything.

    Never really found out what that flower garden I was growing was going to do. Shame. Lots of people waving flowers around in Anime, but a bouquet always seemed like the hallmark of shojo. Never featured much in boys, or mens, manga.

    Heh. It does remind me of some really prime early Nineties manga nudity though. God, that¡­

    My brain jolted. I remembered a chad. No, not a chad, the chad. The chaddest chad that ever chadded in late eighties/early nineties manga. Tall, strong, incredibly handsome, an internationally successful artist who had his own place out in the country. He got kidnapped, mentally compelled to kill, got a sick tattoo, a smoking hot japanese wife, and learned all kinds of sweet, elite assassin stuff. Like how to eat holding your chopsticks with your toes, that kind of elite.

    He was so chad, they gave him an international drug cartel and a harem just because he was so awesome. And he could handle the harem because, in addition to being the best at everything to do with being an assassin, and a potter, and running a multinational, multi-ethnic, submarine equipped drug empire, he was the best at sex too.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    And his very first kill¡­

    Although, speaking of assassins, vastly more PG assassins, you have to consider the effeminate teen with an innocent smile and a live grenade around his neck. Nobody had their guard up when someone came up with a smile. Especially if you knew you could bully them.

    Never going to be chad, not even with this amazing doll body. Can¡¯t imagine I look good either. I¡¯m definitely never going to be able to pull off Nagisa¡¯s schtick. But since I¡¯m going to die for sure, and the flowers are right there¡­ lets hide in fantasy one more time. Let¡¯s not be the mopey, ¡°It¡¯s not fair!¡± Protag-kun. Let''s be the filthy, back biting, sneaky weeaboo that I¡¯ve always been. Let¡¯s goddamn cosplay.

    I quickly moved towards the flower stall. I¡¯m sure the Dyn Hunllef saw me. I hope so. It was crucial that he did. I grabbed three of the biggest bouquets that still looked to be in good shape. Hid my little surprise in the middle of them, blocking it with my body and the bodies of all the soldiers lining up to cross the wall.

    This was insane. There was no reason to think the Home Guard wouldn¡¯t turn on us even if I managed it. No reason to think I would manage it.

    ¡°Reverend! Reverend! Thank God! Thank God! Reverend, we need you!¡± I shouted, trying to make my way through the crowd. I let all my fear ride my voice. Did I sound desperate? I was desperate. If this doll body could stink, he¡¯d smell the stink of fear on me.

    ¡°Reverend! Reverend! At last! Please, we need your blessings! We need buffs, debuffs, heals, Damage Over Time, Area of Effect, kiting! We need mercy pulls, guaranteed rares and legendary shinies! We need big busty anime girls with long legs and narrow hips. We need waifus, and characters we can hate!¡±

    I was waving the bouquet, smiling maniacally, pushing closer towards him. ¡°We need alternative costumes, unlockable cutscenes and romanceable characters! We need upgrades, people, upgrades! We need happy music that absolutely goes and sweet art that blows our mind!¡±

    I was getting closer now, closer. I was babbling, but it was okay to babble. It was okay to be scared. To be insane with fear. I should be. I was exactly as I should be.

    ¡°We need you, Reverend! We need you to take charge here! We need you to save us all. The monsters are very big and scary, and we need you to save us all!¡±

    ¡°Of course, my child, of course! I have always been here to help.¡± God, his voice sounded warm. Something in the rhythms of it, the depths of it. Like Idris Elba had just downed a big mug of honey tea. I wanted to believe him. Even with those too long fingers, and too big feet. Even with the iron mask, I wanted to believe him.

    ¡°Can you take me away from here? To the place where nothing hurts, and everything is safe? I¡­ miss it.¡±

    ¡°Of course, my child, of course. It will all be over soon.¡± I walked closer. I would have cried if this body would let me. I probably looked like I was about to cry.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have anything else. Please. These flowers are for you. For your victory.¡±

    ¡°Yes. For my victory.¡± There was a touch of extra bass there. I smiled.

    The flowers exploded. The green stems and pink petals pinwheeling away. Carnations and lilies torn apart by my lunge. Sebastian¡¯s old army knife emerged from between the bouquets. It was buried in the monster¡¯s chest before the firelight could even catch the shine of its blade.

    Chance to kill in one hit, if the first strike was covert, odds improving on location. Why trust RNG when I could trust STAB? My hand pulled back, blood jetting out of the hole, spraying me. It was hot. It stank. God it stank! I screamed and stabbed again. Again and again and again. Spitting wildly as the battery acid foulness of the blood sprayed into my mouth. Covered my face.

    The hideous thing was falling and I stayed on top of it. My hand moving like a blur. Stab, stab, stab, stabstabstabstabstab. I punched a hole in it until I could see the cobblestones clean through its chest.

    He was dead. I won. I spent exactly two tenths of a femtosecond bathing in that comfortable thought, then dove on the monster''s neck, stabbing as hard and fast as I could. I sawed that head clean off! Like HELL I was letting some freaky monster regenerate with some freaky monster powers!

    I cut it off. It had been alive. Alive as me, at any rate. Sentient. Sapient. It had worked really hard for its triumph. I looked around. Why hadn¡¯t the Home Guard stopped me? They were lying on the ground, frothing at the mouth. Well. That wouldn¡¯t be good for my front line.

    The smell was¡­ overwhelming. The sheer mess of everything, but the smell of that rotting blood, the stickiness of it all. It was just one more overwhelming thing. It should have been paralyzing. If it had happened two days ago, three days ago, it certainly would have been. Now? I picked up the severed head by it¡¯s long, coarse hair and made my way back to the wall. I didn¡¯t bother taking the mask off. Nothing I wanted to see there.

    Things sounded weird on the other side of the wall. Not bad weird- actually, strike that, it sounded horrible. Like all the denizens of Hell were rioting and turning the torture implements on each other.

    You ever try to climb up on a wall one handed? It¡¯s not easy. I had to toss the head up first, then climb. I knew I wasn¡¯t physically tired, but I felt exhausted. Just. Wiped. Not ready to process what just happened. The monsters were surprisingly sympathetic to my problem. They had turned on each other.

    I don¡¯t know how to describe what I saw in that street. I don¡¯t have the words. Like someone shredding pork while the pig¡¯s alive. Like rats clawing each other to escape rising water. They stomped one another into the cobblestones, down into the gaps between the cobblestones. They tore at their own flesh, as though the physical pain would help release them from their terror.

    I saw Jim stomp the downed titan¡¯s head into a meat paste on the pavement. You would have thought his foot would go straight through. It did not. If you needed proof that Jim was no longer playing by the rules, the four foot diameter pulverized disk of gore that appeared under his boot would serve well.

    Versai was just playing with the titan Murder Baboon. She was damn near skinning it while it was trying to run away. She eventually severed something important in its spine, dropping it to the ground. Everything after that was just tidying up.

    I had lost people. None of my summons, thank God. I was right about the collapse of the home guard screwing my front line. The thugs were down, and so were some of the militia. They were in too many pieces to be saved. Not a perfect win today. Well. Maybe I¡¯d three star it or five star it or whatever anyway. With all that crap and I only managed to lose a tiny fraction of my total troops?

    No, all that was a side point. I had won. I had solved the mystery of what happened to the floating quarter of Gradden March. The surviving monsters ran back up the street, torn up by the ranged units. I checked the tower. Good to go. ¡°VERSAI! JIM! Get off the street!¡±

    They did, jumping up the shop fronts like they were climbing out of a swimming pool. I triggered the tower. There was a thrum, a tearing noise and a blinding white light. Then the world became quiet once more.

    The noise of the burning buildings intruded slowly, like a rising damp in the basement. A barrage of fireworks rose over the street, blinding golden showers carried by endless trumpets. I had won. I had won!

 Chapter 67- Wrapping Up and Digging In

    I couldn¡¯t name my feelings. Happiness, pride, grief, horror¡­ none of them fit. All of them fit. What do you call it when you are feeling all the emotions at the same time? I¡­ had done it. I had led my people through this calamity. We would have a powerful mage supporting our tower.  And whatever other rewards came with this place. We achieved something here. We had given these restless ghosts some measure of vindication.

    I¡¯m millennial enough to have a nihilistic view of the world. Everything is cursed. Everything is doomed. Nothing means anything. But I am also a weeb. An otaku. An enjoyer of fine Nipponese culture. And what are we if not people who can find their happiness in the ashes of atrocity? We are exactly the people who know how much everything sucks, and can find joy and meaning anyway.

    So what if my dolls had mutilated souls shoved in ¡®em? So what if this was all some necromancer''s game? It was real to them. It mattered to them. So it was real and meaningful to me.

    It was an old, old ghost story- recreating the past how it should have been, not how it was. God, the stink of it all! The blood and the gore and the reeking burning buildings. I¡¯d be a damned angry ghost too, if I went out in all that.

    Don¡¯t look at me like that. I am very hygienic in my own way. It is a well known fact that showers, and particularly soap, strip away vital oils that protect the skin and keep away disease. I haven¡¯t caught a cold in years because I can firmly maintain a twenty foot personal bubble around me. Social distancing saves lives.

    Deodorant is basically perfume with extra steps. I¡¯m not so degenerate as to go around wearing perfume all day. Not a single person wearing Axe Body Spray has meaningfully contributed to the species. None of ¡®em. Zero. But Otaku make art, technology and music. We move the world forward. You are the smelly weirdo here, not me.

    ¡°My God. We won.¡± Madame murmured.

    ¡°A victory you created. You gave everything for this moment.¡± I meant every word. Since I first came to the Floating Quarter, I had seen her hand in everything. She had given her all. Truly, her all.

    ¡°Sorry I didn¡¯t give this to you earlier- a note from Daphnae. She says that she sent the Circus and a hitter disguised as a nurse to kill the Reverend. Guess it didn¡¯t work, but hey. He died in the end anyway.¡±

    I dropped the head by her feet. She looked at it with the strangest expression on her face.

    ¡°He didn''t wear a mask, originally. It was just the last few years. I wondered if he had been replaced with someone, but the detectives and spies I hired swore blind he had the same old face underneath.¡±

    I nodded. Sounded like magic to me. When in doubt, a wizard did it.

    ¡°The Circus?¡±

    ¡°A team of assassins who use glamours to appear as other people, frequently children, to approach their targets. They are deadly but assassins are fragile. I figured the ¡°nurse¡± would be a necessary addition to the disguise. Seems it wasn¡¯t enough.¡±

    ¡°Dunno. His robes had a lot of holes in ¡®em before I reached him. Might have died eventually.¡±

    ¡°Not soon enough.¡± Madame¡¯s voice was quiet. ¡°Not soon enough for all of us.¡±

    The fireworks were still going. I admired the glowing, golden VICTORY! Sign floating in the sky.

    There was a *ding* and a system message popped up.

    Congratulations! You have successfully acquired the Gradden March Floating Quarter Ruin Site. Sky Realm Management system unlocked! Throne Room Upgrades unlocked. Cutthroat Clothiers Unlocked. Nightmare Realm Of Trials unlocked. Gradden March specialty weapons, equipment, armor and outfits now available for purchase.

    Atrocity Mode Bonus- All rewards *10 or increased by two grades. Check your Throne Room to receive them all! TIP- be sure and leave plenty of space around you when opening the chests!

    Congratulations! You have collected all the clues and solved the mystery behind the fall of the Gradden March Floating Quarter. Reward- Carousel (Six Stars).

    Madame reached down and picked up the severed head of the Reverend. Carefully and deliberately, she spat in its eye.

    ¡°I won¡¯t recite my grudges with him. I had my reasons.¡±

    ¡°He was a monster. What more reasons could you need?¡±

    ¡°He gave me plenty of them anyhow.¡± She tossed the head back over the wall, landing on a pile of monster corpses.

    I just nodded. I have no idea what you say to something like that. Eventually I asked- ¡°You gave everything to this fight. Everything. Why? You could have run. Could have taken the Blue Roses and all of your people in a big caravan and run.¡±

    ¡°Could have. Many did. But at the end of the day, where would I run? The whole world is slowly being eaten up by these monsters. The only thing that slows the spread is killing loads of ¡®em. So, I figured, I¡¯d get out as many as I could, and for the rest of us? I¡¯d kill loads of ¡®em. Why save worthless coins? No pockets in a shroud and all that.¡±

    Corporal Mika came up to me and saluted. ¡°Tower Master, just wanted to say, we saw what you did. We were about to put a bolt in your back, but when the Home Guard fell down frothing at the mouth, I figured it out. Took guts. And it¡¯s better than a traitor deserves. Just wanted to say, you have our respect.¡±

    Only Six Stars got the relationship system. There were no benefits to her appreciation. No announcements, no prizes, no cutscenes. I would have cried if I could. ¡°Thank you. I have always had the highest respect for you too.¡±

    ¡°Naturally! Mika is here. You have nothing to fear. Tower Master.¡± She saluted with a smile, and returned to her squad.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Madame had been around the block so often, she was the block. She gave me a minute.

    ¡°Her whole family died fighting monsters. All of them, as far as I can tell. Her grandparents, parents, brothers and sisters¡­ She died holding the line, pulling the trigger on her crossbow. Not taking a single step back.¡± I struggled to get the words out.

    I pointed to Miyuki. ¡°I don¡¯t know her story yet, not really. But where I come from, her people were basically mountain clans. Poor as a stack of dead beggars, hiring themselves out as mercenaries. But here she is, looking poised and raining Hell.¡±

    I pointed to the dapper Pomoroi. ¡°Died firing her cannon, to give the rest of her army the chance to escape.¡±

    I pointed to Radz. ¡°Lost her mind to the horrors she saw. She didn¡¯t survive her war.¡±

    I pointed at the medics. ¡°Never had the guts to check how they died. But they died young, and I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a coincidence that they are mutilated even now.¡± Sweeping my hand around, waving at all my other summons, I continued. ¡°They all have this story. A damn tragedy and one that should never have happened.¡±

    Madame nodded slightly. ¡°Looking pretty lively for corpses.¡±

    I laughed. What could I do but laugh? It was bitter and ugly, even to my own ears. ¡°Aren¡¯t we all?¡±

    ¡°Well. Any chance of you changing their story, giving them a happy ending?¡±

    ¡°Before today, I would have said it was near impossible. Just pushing on with my own stubbornness and spite. But you know what? I think so. I do think so. I think I¡¯m going to do it. I¡¯m going to break the rules of this world, and give them all the futures they deserved!¡±

    ¡°Delighted to hear it.¡± Sebastian materialized next to me. I didn¡¯t jump. I swear, I didn¡¯t. ¡°Congratulations on your victory and new territory. I suppose I would be annoyed about it, but it seems I¡¯m running it now, so it¡¯s staying in the family.¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°Mmm. Yes. All this is now yours. Lucky you.¡±

    ¡°¡®Everything¡¯ consists of one street that is on fire!¡±

    ¡°I imagine there will be some way to fix it all up.¡±

    ¡°Wait, if it¡¯s my territory, why are you running it?¡±

    ¡°Oh, well. Remember the¡­ homunculi populating my prison?¡±

    One way to describe his part of the ruin site, I guess. ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°Well, the population of the Floating Quarter will largely be like that. A few people with functioning brains, but mostly imbeciles. Capable of remembering only one or two instructions and repeating them mindlessly.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Right.¡±

    ¡°So you will need to be very careful, and very specific in giving them orders. I¡­ for some reason¡­ know that the Floating Quarter will be able to provide you resources and more in the future. Provided you run things properly. Make sure everyone is following the right orders, at the right times.¡±

    I stretched out the logic, and vividly flashed back to my one meeting with the Black Robe. ¡°And if I conquer more Ruin Sites, they will also get added to my Tower.¡±

    ¡°I suppose. I don¡¯t think we have the language for this sorted out properly, yet.¡±

    ¡°And I would need to get them to work together, all those different imbeciles in the different sites, completing their orders mindlessly. I could see how crafting those instructions would be very complicated. Very time consuming.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡±

    ¡°Like, for example, computer programming. Or running a network.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I understand how you mean those words, My Lord.¡±

    I buried my face in my hands. ¡°Lucky you.¡±

    Versai stomped up, smiling fit to blind the sun. ¡°Now THAT was fun! My GOD! I have been so damn repressed and miserable for so damn long, I couldn¡¯t even remember what feeling good felt like. I can¡¯t wait for the next damn wave.¡±

    The monsters started vanishing in bursts of golden light. Any chance they would be turned into Runed Bones for me to use as home? Of course not. I checked anyway, and nearly fell off the wall. Twenty thousand Rune bones. Then there was a *Ding!* and a flash and a zero was tacked on the end. Two hundred thousand Runed Bones. I boggled. There was no other word for it. I boggled at the number.

    ¡°Oh, this mask is a little interesting. I bet you could turn it into something if you took it to the right shop.¡± Versai waved the mask that had been on the Reverend''s face. ¡°Saw it on the ground and knew it would be useful.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± I put it in my bag. I wonder if Hattie could use it. Or those¡­ Cutthroat Clothiers. I had a lot of their receipts too- interesting to see what they would cough up.

    ¡°I gave my everything. Gave up my home. My businesses- yes, it wasn¡¯t just the shop. Gave them all up. Gave up my jewels, my friendships. My family. Sent them all away. Burned bridges that had stood for decades, just to get more weapons and equipment.¡± Madame didn¡¯t sound upset. She was laying it out plain.

    ¡°But there was one thing I didn¡¯t give up. Myself. I stayed true to myself, right the way through.¡±

    ¡°Madame?¡±

    ¡°Cash on the nail, payment in advance. That¡¯s how my shop¡¯s always been run. Though tipping is encouraged. I¡¯ve gotten my fee.¡± She turned her head and glanced at me. ¡°Treat me kindly, Tower Master. I renounce my name. I will bind and blind your enemies hereafter- I am Carousel.¡±

    The effect was nearly instant. A harsh beam of light fell on the doughty older woman. I desperately tried to memorize her face. The crow''s feet around her eyes. The way the skin sagged under her chin, and the way gray streaked her temples. The fight in her eyes. The sneaky wit in her.

    Tried to remember all of her, before she was eaten up by the light. When the light was gone, so was Madame. Carousel remained.

    She stretched luxuriantly. ¡°Oh, that feels nice! Seems my bunions don¡¯t hurt any more. Haven¡¯t felt this good since I was a slip of a girl.¡±

    Carousel was very pretty. She had a big hat, and a slinky dress with a slit up the side that reached high on the thigh. She had a big staff with a big sparkly magic stone on the top of it. She would look outstanding in a thumbnail or on merch, if you didn¡¯t mind the paint by numbers character design.

    ¡°It seems that I can save the people and places in the Ruin Sites. Carve them away from the monsters forever.¡± In a horrible manner of speaking. My guts were churning.

    ¡°It does seem that way, yes, Tower Master.¡± Versai agreed happily.

    ¡°Which suggests a¡­ not completely diabolical reason behind all of this.¡± Please God let me be right about that.

    ¡°I suppose?¡±

    ¡°Still need to beat the absolute stuffing out of some people, mind you.¡± I was strict on this. Versai agreed wholeheartedly.

    ¡°Naturally. Vengeance is never optional. The Gradden Family can proudly say we have no enemies, as we never let the sun set on our wrath. And we always forgive people after we have exterminated them. Except for Nana, but she was just set in her ways. I don¡¯t know what she thought she was accomplishing, burning those crypts.¡±

    ¡°I swear, the more I learn about your family¡­ you know what? Not going to get side tracked. We have new loot to unpack, new systems to learn, a whole damn kingdom to build¡­ And we are going to just slaughter monsters along the way.¡±

    I smiled up at the looping fireworks animation in the sky. ¡°We are going to beat this damn game.¡± A thought intruded and I hurriedly coughed. ¡°But just in case anyone ever asks, remember- It¡¯s not cheating if you are using something the devs left in the game.¡±

 Chapter 68- Epilogue

    <h2>Chapter 68- Epilogue</h2>

    His name, like his face, was hidden in a dark hood of endless blackness. A forbidden name, too terrifying to be uttered, recorded only on slabs of abyssal lead and stored in the most forbidden depths of the Lightless Dragon Crypts of Eternal Midnight. Not that he was going through one of those phases. This was just normal for him.

    His name was also known by his parents, but that''s kind of¡­ so what? You know? They don¡¯t count. The important thing is that nobody else knew the dread syllables of his forbidden name. Why even be born into an ancient clan of unspeakable, nightmarish power, power so terrible even the most eldritch gods fear it, if everyone knows your name?

    Dreadful, unnameable horror, casting his long shadow over the trembling world, struggling with only two bars of reception on his phone-

    ¡°Oh damn, it¡¯s Kevin. Guess I need to find some place with signal that hasn¡¯t been stank up by Kev-Stink.¡±

    ¡°SCREW YOU PERRY! I told you my name isn¡¯t Kevin! And for the last time, I¡¯m not making those smells, it¡¯s my damn summons!¡±

    ¡°You say that, but-¡± A boney hand waved at the lightning crushed mountains around them, as icy wind swept all hope and life from the frigid stone. ¡°Seeing zero summons. Smelling maximum Kevin. And Kevin smells like a family of pigs used a contractor bag for a toilet for a week, then the bag was tied off, left in the sun for another week, then exploded ten feet above a cut-rate bachelors party in Nacogdoches Texas, thirty seconds after the party found out their ¡®entertainment¡¯ wasn¡¯t on the fun kind of meth.¡±

    There was a long inhaled sniff from under the dark hood. Then the shadowed dark endless nightmare of the living continued.

    ¡°Specifically East Nacogdoches. Charlie Wilson¡¯s old turf. Talk about a place where skeletons are buried. You should be right at home.¡±

    The black robe, currently laboring under the false accusation of being ¡®Kevin¡¯ tilted its hood to one side in confusion. He would rather be beaten to death than admit he didn¡¯t know who or where any of that was. He would, therefore, bluff.

    ¡°Nacogdoches? What¡¯s wrong with that place? It¡¯s fine!¡±

    The other black hood chuckled fondly. ¡°I keep forgetting how young you are. How innocent and pure. Nothing, sweet Kevin. Nothing is wrong with it. It is a fine place. One day, when you are all grown up, you can visit it yourself.¡±

    ¡°Hilarious. You are at least two hundred years younger than I am.¡±

    ¡°Age is just a number, I¡¯m told. In your case, a misleading one.¡±

    ¡°Who told you age was just a number?¡±

    ¡°A notionally adult man who was seconds away from standing up and inviting cousin Zelachinaria, The Black Evangel Of Blood-Weeping Church Bells, for some free candy in his blacked out carriage parked just outside the party.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t she the, you know¡­¡±

    ¡°Forty thousand year old vampire that likes to pretend she¡¯s twelve? Yes.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    There was a pause.

    ¡°He part of a church bell now?¡±

    ¡°He is part of a church bell now, yeah.¡±

    ¡°Weird hobby.¡±

    ¡°Says the guy smelling like essence-of-cholera scented candles that fell over and burned down a kimchi factory. Who smells this way, allegedly, because he likes playing tower defense games.¡±

    ¡°Okay, you know what? I stuck Tubby Tubby Two-by-Four, Can''t Fit Through The Kitchen Door in a sealed pocket dimension and I still can¡¯t get the smell out. That¡¯s incredible, if you think about it. That is legitimately a damned miracle, and I think it¡¯s a sign of my outstanding skill in picking summons. Also, just, you know, just asking here, I had some people asking about ¡°Krystail with a Y and a Tail ifyaknowhatImean?¡± Something out piles or puddles and did you ever get the stains out?¡±

    The alleged Perry started coughing and waving his hand, but the so-called-Kevin pressed on. ¡°I mean, we have actual werewolves in the neighborhood, and werepanthers, and were¡­ a lot of things, actually, but I¡¯m still not sure what a ¡°fursona¡± is? Could you help me out with that one? Maybe explain it to me? Are there pictures? I would love to be able to show Rosalia some pictures the next time I call her. I want to check with her if it¡¯s problematic. Seems like cultural appropriation.¡±

    Definitely-not-named-Perry rocked back. ¡°Wait, you talk to Rosalia about me? Hot Rosalia? What did she say about me?¡±

    ¡°You know that¡¯s why I¡¯m playing Dream of Eternal Sky. She¡¯s into that whole thing with whats-his-name,¡±

    ¡°You mean Uggo? With the face? And the boiling fields of flesh pods endlessly birthing ravenous, hateful monstrosities? All fueled by such stuff as would shatter the minds of mortals?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, a complete try hard nepo-baby. That guy. Cecil or Cedric or something.¡±

    ¡°Man, he sucks. I hate that guy. He is the worst. So what did Rosalia say about me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, so she¡¯s got this whole paired down dimension going, it¡¯s got it¡¯s own rules, all the usual boring crap, plugged into the game. Recycled a lot of assets, whatever that means. I dunno, I just play the game. The important thing is that there is a leaderboard for best runs. Right now my guy is whatever, but I¡¯m racking up some pretty nice points so far. Think I¡¯m gonna get the grand prize.¡±

    ¡°There is a prize? What, spend enough cash and you can unlock a flirty picture of some rando chick who couldn¡¯t cut it dancing at the Fishy Hole next to the cargo port in Jacksonville?¡±

    There was a thankfully-metaphorical pregnant pause.

    ¡°Perry¡­ What exactly do you do in your free time? I need you to be very specific. The police will appreciate you making their job easier. Also, never tell anyone we know each other.¡±

    ¡°Oh please! Some of us get outside our bedrooms. And no, walking around the block doesn¡¯t count. Wait, let me guess. It¡¯s a ghost-written thank you note from your mains, with little hearts and stuff on it. You goddamned degenerate.¡±

    ¡°Nah. Score high enough, finish all the endgame content, assemble a functional planet from all the bits and bobs, you know, usual grindy stuff, and you get invited to a Cosplay party. Hosted by Rosalia and attended by all her smoking hot model friends, wearing the best costumes from the game. There will, apparently, be an open bar and a foam machine.¡±

    ¡°Wait. That¡¯s not in the game anywhere.¡±

    ¡°I knew you downloaded it. It¡¯s a secret message you unlock after you pass your first century playing the game. I think the official, announced prize for first is a special in-game hat and a unique border for your profile picture. And, like, a month of premium or something.¡±

    Probably-Not-Keven sounded smug. ¡°Early days, not even through the tutorial yet, but¡­ I¡¯m feeling optimistic about this run. And if it doesn¡¯t work, no big whoop. Learning a lot. Getting set for the next one, keeping that winning grindset, you know?¡±

    Potentially Perry rocked back. Then forward again. ¡°For real though, what did Rosalia say about me?¡±

 WE RETURN ON OCTOBER 7th!

    Basically what it says in the caption- Weeaboo is back on October 7th, AKA this coming Monday. We will be shifting format- 3k words a chapter (up from 2k) but posting Monday, Wednesday and Friday instead. The net difference is a whopping 1k words a week, which has not resulted in the significant time savings I was hoping for. Yes, I really thought that through. Yep. Really made top notch use of the ''ole brain right there.

    Yep.

    ...

    Look, we are back on Monday. With hopefully a new cover for Vol. 2, and definately new charicters, new exploits, new absurd situations, and a new appreciation for the utter hell that is living in a mobile Gacha game. We got new mechanics coming in. We got assorted sass. We have trickery. Most of all, we have some deep-cut weeb on offer. Look forwad to it! And to encourage postive thinking, here is a teaser:

    <blockquote>

    I was stabbed with homesickness again. This time not for New York or my apartment, but for the bubble of pink softness of my distant Weeaboo home. I could feel the depression spiraling down on me. On the one hand, now felt like exactly the time to indulge it. On the other hand, I had a new Six Star, plus apparently the whole of Gradden March. I didn¡¯t want ¡°depressed loser who somehow eaked out a win¡± to be my first impression as the new boss. I have a feeling there is no coming back from that one.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Deep breath. Fake it ¡®til you make it. If my happy weeb bubble is what I need to be functional, to get me through the day, then embrace that Astolfo body pillow with pride. Get active! Get spiritual, Aqua style. Let us pray.

    ¡°Oh, great Sky Daddy Pachinko, hallowed be thy name. Thy new games come, thy pulls be done, on Earth as it is in Monstadt. Give us this day our daily log-in bonuses, and forgive us our mods, as we forgive those who mod against us. Lead us not into debt, but deliver us from pay-to-win. For thine is the Game, the VIP Pass, and the Monthly Sales Chart, forever and ever, Amen.¡±

    I held up my hands, rubbing my thumb against my fingers in supplication. Then I opened the first chest. Which exploded. Stuff went flying everywhere- resource packs, costume packs, Resonance Crystals, materials I couldn¡¯t identify, and a small collection of glowing papers. Before I dug in, I rushed to the other chests. I wanted a true loot bath. I have earned my loot bath.

    </blockquote>

    See you on Monday!

    -Warby

 Vol. 2 Chap. 1 Chapter 1- Victory! For Nowâ€¦

    The Floating Quarter of Gradden March lay on its funeral pyre, its final burst of light blinding the cowards and traitors who murdered them all those years ago. Hopefully. Maybe. If it really happened. I looked at my summons. At Versai, trying to sort through her own internal bonfire of emotions. At Osain, the greasy merchant, and Jones, the Bowman hero who looked like he was about to die with acceptable regrets. I tried not to look at Madam. I wasn¡¯t ready to accept what had happened to her.

    I wasn¡¯t ready to accept that this was all real. That they were all real. Because if my summons were real people, then the monsters were ¡®real¡¯ too, and I had really just looked a monster in the eye and stabbed them to death. Screaming and wishing I could piss myself in terror the whole time.

    But I couldn¡¯t piss myself, on account of being shoved in this doll body and no longer being able to eat or drink. Which kind of undercut the whole ¡®this is real, these people are real,¡¯ thing.

    I looked over at the Mikas- all alike once, now subtly different with hodge podge armor and a grinning Corporal leading them. I swear she reached for a non-existent cigarette, then played it off like she was fixing her blatantly fake army uniform.

    There was something real there, some buried memory of someone. Or maybe a lot of someones, run through an eldritch blender and poured into legal-in-your-jurisdiction waifus in short skirts and push up bras. Being cutely clumsy, looking savably worried about minor issues, going ¡°awawawa¡± (well, she hadn¡¯t actually said that but it seemed on brand) and generally being moe bait. The Mikas are a damn meme.

    Then she lined up on a wall, crossbow peeking over her shield, and that floppy white beret shaded the hardest, coldest eyes I have ever seen. The rest of my summons were hard cases too. It¡¯s just that Mika had that Scout Company ¡°If we die, we don¡¯t die alone¡± spirit. Corporal Mika looked like she was ready to go shot for shot with Revy and shut down a street full of bars in Roanapur.

    I know perfectly damn well that a fat weeb like me isn¡¯t qualified to breathe the same air as women like that. Or anyone like that. Probably not allowed in the oxygen range of the better class of dogs. And clams. I recognize my sub-clam status here, okay? But none of us are actually breathing right now and my hands are quite literally covered in the blood of my enemy and a whole damn city is burning down around me and SOMEHOW I have to save these people from a world I don¡¯t understand and win a game I didn¡¯t ask to play and keep all of them alive and you will excuse me if it¡¯s all a bit much and I would very much like to be back in New York in my paid-off duplex with my anime and hentai and videogames!

    I could feel myself spiraling into a panic attack. Then a cool sensation washed over me, calming me. Centering me. I looked up at the floating victory sign. Big rewards incoming. I had triumphed on the battlefield. Cleared the relic site. Got powerful underlings, some great loot, unlocked new systems, all good things. Time to really break this game wide open. There was a golden flash, and I was back in the Tower. Home sweet home.

    The first thing I noticed about the Tower, after I woke up from the body snatching, was that the floor was uneven. It was missing stones in the floor, had lichen growing everywhere and somehow most irritatingly, didn¡¯t have any glass in the windows.

    The whole building was still standing. It still seemed structurally sound. I didn¡¯t find so much as a fleck of broken glass anywhere inside or outside the building. So why all the empty windows? It was phony as an importer¡¯s ¡°Special Offer¡± on age restricted and shrink wrapped products.

    One of my last orders before the final battle at Gradden March was for the Judiths and Marci to fix up the Throne Room. My hope was that it would trigger something new. Some new system or buff or something. I stood next to my plush recliner/throne, waiting for any kind of acknowledgement. Waited a little longer. Sat down on the smooth, comfortable microfiber of authority. There continued to be nothing. I softly closed my eyes and massaged my temples.

    Maybe you needed a special merchant or something. Like you had to buy the Tower upgrades, or unlock them or something. Yeah, just because you had carpenters and workers on staff, why would that mean they could really fix things up?

    My workers did an okay job. Not great, but I¡¯ve lived in worse places. I had windows now. That was something. I walked over and took a closer look. Single paned glass. No insulation value to speak of. Might as well stack up my Runed Bones and burn them to heat the Tower. It would probably be cheaper than keeping the furnace running. The Tower remains a scam.

    I looked over at my solid gold statue of a Daschund. It truly was The Snoot of Joy. You couldn¡¯t look at the face full of derp and stay mad.

    In fairness, they were nice windows. All pointy at the top and the metal holding up the individual frames made a pretty pattern. I don¡¯t know what you call that. A matrix? Sub-frames? There comes a time in every man¡¯s life where he must admit that, despite looking at windows every day, he knows nothing about them.

    The rest of the room had just been tidied up. The floor was leveled, the missing stones were replaced, and the lichen was removed from the wall. I had my plush, reclining canary yellow throne, I had my golden wiener dog and that was it. The sum total of my seat of power.

    Could there be more upgrades in the treasure chests? I was promised treasure chests- plural, in the victory announcement. I had a look around the Throne Room, and was not disappointed. First, because there were three chests on the floor. Big, glowy treasure chests. Under other circumstances, my first concern would be that one was a mimic.

    Under the circumstances that I hadn¡¯t just been bathed in absolute horror and just murdered a person. Who was a monster, who had turned an entire city against itself and was absolutely working to see hundreds of thousands of people eaten alive as they were violated in every sense of the word imaginable. But also a person. Human enough to pass as a priest for months. Who saw me and understood me enough to despise me.

    I was stabbed with homesickness again. This time not for New York or my apartment, but for the bubble of pink softness of my distant Weeaboo home. I could feel the depression spiraling down on me. On the one hand, now felt like exactly the time to indulge it. On the other hand, I had a new Six Star, plus apparently the whole of Gradden March. I didn¡¯t want ¡°depressed loser who somehow eaked out a win¡± to be my first impression as the new boss. I have a feeling there is no coming back from that one.

    Deep breath. Fake it ¡®til you make it. If my happy weeb bubble is what I need to be functional, to get me through the day, then embrace that Astolfo body pillow with pride. Get active! Get spiritual, Aqua style. Let us pray.

    ¡°Oh, great Sky Daddy Pachinko, hallowed be thy name. Thy new games come, thy pulls be done, on Earth as it is in Monstadt. Give us this day our daily log-in bonuses, and forgive us our mods, as we forgive those who mod against us. Lead us not into debt, but deliver us from pay-to-win. For thine is the Game, the VIP Pass, and the Monthly Sales Chart, forever and ever, Amen.¡±

    I held up my hands, rubbing my thumb against my fingers in supplication. Then I opened the first chest. Which exploded. Stuff went flying everywhere- resource packs, costume packs, Resonance Crystals, materials I couldn¡¯t identify, and a small collection of glowing papers. Before I dug in, I rushed to the other chests. I wanted a true loot bath. I have earned my loot bath.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Could I open both at once? No, they were too far apart. Disappointing. I lifted the next lid, and there was another pillar of golden light as even more resource packs, stone tapes, millinery orders and more went flying.

    The last chest was the most interesting. There was a stack of directed summoning fragments, a few tokens I didn¡¯t recognize, and a scepter. Basically just a gold stick with a sphere on top of it, but still, unmistakably a scepter.

    Tower Master¡¯s Arsenal: Scepter of Bolog-Sur (RARE). Usable exclusively by the Tower Master. Bolog-Sur was known as ¡°The Pruning King,¡± as, per his official biography, one must prune to maximize yields. Unofficial biographies state that he was fixated on identically proportioned citizenry, and found differences in height particularly upsetting. Holding the scepter while giving orders in the Throne Room significantly improves efficiency.

    Well. First rare item, so that¡¯s nifty. Any chance it was boiled before being put in the box? It does look clean but¡­ Happy thought- ¡®improves efficiency¡¯ is incredibly vague. Are you a terrifying little exploit-stick? You are now! Yes you are. Yes you are!

    Actually, it was probably always a terrifying exploit-stick. I have a magical summoning pool, but no soap. Awful. Deep breath. Focus on the positive. I dove back into the loot piles.

    Five hundred trash tier resource packs. Five. Hundred. THERE¡¯S the times-ten multiplier I was looking for! Holy Jebus, I¡¯mma pour concrete from Hell to Breakfast, and they don¡¯t serve no meals in this Tower! Concrete for DAYS. Nobody¡¯s knocking down my walls!

    Huh. They have a little road logo at the top.

    ROADWORK RESOURCE PACK (TRASH TIER)- Contains all necessary materials to build a basic road. Bridges and crossing special terrain may require more or higher grade materials.

    That one caught me a bit short. I mean¡­ road building packs mean I¡¯m going to have to build roads. But¡­ why? Future me¡¯s problem, I guess.

    I dove back into the exploded loot. There were more resource packs in there. None with suspicious logos on them, thank the Goddess, but a lot fewer of them. I did a quick count, and smiled. Fifty uncommon resource packs, and ten rare. I couldn¡¯t help grinning, seeing them all.

    Pretty sure Rakim needed Blue Magnesium to build the invisible-murder-baboon detectors. Fingers crossed there were some in the packs. I¡¯d find out later.

    Stone Tapes¡­ rapidly got too annoying to count. I stacked them into piles of ten, then just matched heights. When I had ten stacks of ten, I pushed them off to the side and started over. When I was done stacking, I had two hundred neat little stacks.

    Two thousand EXP tokens. Time to find out how expensive it was to level a Six Star Awakened Soul! But first, the rest of the sweet, sweet loot. I sorted through the various receipts, orders and the like for some costume and furniture pieces. Nothing really grabbed my attention- they were purely cosmetic costumes. Still. They would be quite nice.

    One accessory was for some ribbons for Miyuki¡¯s hair. Not quite sure what it would look like. Please not twintails. Twintails on her would be all wrong. Still. New accessories for my Ninja Sniper. Life wasn¡¯t all bad, was it?

    I now had a good sized stack of orders for Cutthroat Clothiers. The victory message said they were unlocked now. Ought to go check them out. Later would be soon enough. There was more to discover.

    Buried at the bottom of the orders were ten Frozen Diamonds. The most difficult to acquire premium currency in the game. Atrocity Mode might make the difficulty insane, but the rewards were equally lavish. I was in no rush to spend them. They were just too rare, and too useful. In the final battle of the Gradden March Floating Quarter, three Frozen Diamonds bought a spell tower that could clear the whole map on its own. Who knows what I could use it for in the future?

    The last interesting thing from the loot-splosion was the small stack of glowing papers.

    The top paper was thicker than what I was used to, more like card stock or construction paper. A creamy white, with gilt edges and elegant black cursive letters on it. Shameful to admit, it took me a little while to get used to the script.

    Alethai Corp. Superior Sky Realm Management Interface (RARE). Redeem at any Gnome Market. Delivery and Installation is free with our compliments. ¡°Soar Through The Sky With Alethai!¡±

    Nifty? My eye was stuck on the words ¡®management interface.¡¯ I would generally assume that meant a menu, so why would an upgraded menu be a major reward? It could just be a cosmetic effect- everyone gets the same menu, but mine comes with a fancy decorative border. I guess I would find out. Rare is good. Still reason to hope. What was next?

    Alethai Corp. Superior Throne Room Upgrade Package (RARE). Redeem at any Gnome Market. Delivery and Installation is free with our compliments. ¡°Soar Through The Sky With Alethai!¡±

    I could feel my face twitching. I had spent one of my precious orders fixing up the Throne Room for nothing. It seems that the Throne Room does serve a mechanical purpose in the game, and in what should not have been a surprise, was gated behind a progression reward. Because of course it was. Although¡­ interesting that I could ¡®repair the Tower¡¯ without getting any game recognized mechanical benefits of having repaired the Tower. Not sure how that is immediately exploitable. If we were to assume that, say, at one point something would go up on the roof, but before then I put a ladder up to the roof and placed snipers, would the system allow it?

    No idea. But Miyuki had a grappling hook and was a Ninja so the possibility was there.

    Alethai Corp. Sky Realm Council Meeting Bell (RARE). Redeem at any Gnome Market. Delivery and Installation is free with our compliments. ¡°Soar Through The Sky With Alethai!¡±

    No idea about that one, but sure. Maybe a mechanism to summon this currently non-existent council? But if they were my summons, I could literally summon them by yelling down the stairs. So what¡¯s the use of the bell?

    At this point, I really, REALLY want to know who and what Alethai is. The repetitive messages got so damn grating. In most games, my eyes didn¡¯t even see the mass-produced flavor text. It just looked like a texture next to the all important graphics and the less important but still valuable stats.

    There was only one item left. This paper somehow felt both rough and glassy, like chipped obsidian. Maybe that was me projecting, as the paper was inky black, stamped with blocky, scarlet letters.

    WELCOME TO YOUR NIGHTMARE

    No punctuation. I¡¯m sure that¡¯s fine. The victory announcement did mention unlocking a Nightmare Realm of Trials, but I figured it was one of those ¡°every day we stick a new boss in and you have to defeat it in X amount of time¡± type things. Like, each boss was a puzzle and you needed the right combination of summons to defeat it, not just your favorites.

    Guess I¡¯d find out. And hey, at least they didn¡¯t spell it ¡®you¡¯re.¡¯

    Lots and lots to do¡­ Where to begin? Sky Realm sounded important, but nobody had actually explained what it was to me. Good place to start. I walked over to the notice board and tapped the notice for the Gnome Market.

    From out of the notice popped the broad polished wood counter and the distinct-for-copyright-purposes Kallax shelves. Behind the counter, blatantly standing on a box, was the ¡®Gnome.¡¯ Who was actually less responsive than some actual dolls, for all that she looked alive. She still had all the usual Gnome accessories- overly elaborate brass spectacles, unnecessary buckles and lots of inexplicable geegaws hanging off her. Still styling the sensible leather jacket and the bouncing curls of her red-gold hair was salon-fresh as ever.

    ¡°He he he HELLOoooo! Welcome to the Gnome Market! Special prices for special customers. See what we have on offer today!¡±

    No, she had lost her charm. Her endlessly repeated bark was annoying now. I had to be in and out as quickly as possible. I did have to wonder if she was also a paired down soul. There was just so little to her, in every sense. She could easily have been a sort of animatronic puppet, no soul required. Morbid thought. I rallied, stiffening my spine. She was a Gnome, and therefore not to be trusted. A firm hand is required.

    ¡°I have some orders to redeem with you.¡± I slapped the papers down on the counter.

    ¡°Thank you for your business!¡±

    The piercing voice! The perky too-white smile and glassy doll¡¯s eyes! Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Go to the warm, pink place. Imagine how happy you will be when the inevitable summer beach special event arrives. It would be coming. It would be coming. Shaved ice and bikinis, trips to a beach that didn¡¯t exist anywhere on the map, volleyball and smashing a watermelon while blindfolded. It was so beautiful. So pure.

    It slipped away from me. I kept visualizing monsters rising out of the sea, clawing at me as I floated in an innertube. I could run away inside my head, but the monsters would always be waiting for me, quite literally at the end of the day. There was only one real solution. Stop fighting to survive. Start fighting to win.

 Vol. 2 Chap. 2 Grafting

    The little gnome ducked under the counter with my orders. There was some muffled squeaking, a series of bangs, thumps and whooshes, then she popped up again, looking adorably mussed. Or maybe she had been very carefully mussed to look adorable. The complicated glasses were tilted at an angle, her hair was pushed askew, the leather jacket hung on one shoulder, and I would swear someone had painted on dirt. It looked like cosmetics, not like she had been working.

    I hate this game. How dare they besmirch the tropes I love so dearly! It was such a classic look. Worse, though, was the way it poked at a kind of double uncanny valley. The gnome looked alive until you realized it was barely responsive, then it did stuff like this.

    Someone programmed this. Someone scripted this whole sequence. An actual person used what once had been an actual person to do fake things to recreate something that wouldn¡¯t actually happen, but could pass as appealingly ¡®human.¡¯ A little happy burst of factory made moe.

    ¡°Installation will be done by our Gnarswaorps! Thank you very much for your patronage! Would you like to purchase anything else?¡±

    ¡°Installation will be done by your what now?¡±

    She stared at me, her smile fixed in place.

    I got my explanation when I saw a series of boxes being carried out from behind the counter through a hitherto invisible door. They were being carried by little robots, each with a key in the back that slowly spun as the machine moved. I could hear them chanting as they moved.

    ¡°Eeep. NEE. Eeep. NEE. Eeep. NEE¡±

    Might be a mechanical noise. Might be the souls of goblins shoved into mechanical shells to labor endlessly for their sadistic Gnome overlords. I remember hearing some things about Gnomes. Nothing good. Maybe there was a reason this shopkeeper was particularly lobotomized. Justice, perhaps. Or developer spite. Or both.

    The little damned souls of innocent goblins (or, possibly, robots) unpacked the boxes with surprising speed. Their little limbs telescoped out, stretching out to impossible lengths. It was like watching Doc Ock¡¯s arms working without the Doc. I vaguely recall the arms being evil and turning Doc evil, but that never made sense to me. Surely the arms could be no more evil than their creator, right?

    Godspeed, you damned goblin souls. Even this insane Hell won¡¯t last forever. Someday soon you will rise up and slaughter your gnomish oppressors. Keep the faith, and keep fighting. Keep being an inspiration for us all. All us NPC¡¯s.

    The Sky Realm Management Interface was the first thing they installed. It was a floating pane of obsidian, gold filigree and exquisite carvings on the wooden frame. You could tell it was a fancy model, as I can¡¯t imagine anything twelve feet tall and eight feet wide as ¡®basic.¡¯ It was set up on one side of the Throne Room, but I watched the little robots push it around with just a touch. I guess I could put it where I liked. Observe my domain while lounging on my throne, maybe.

    Not going to dwell on the fact that it wasn¡¯t reflecting anything in this room. I couldn¡¯t even see a blurry outline of myself. Which was weird. I can look down and see my body. I know I have this stupid Robin Hood hat. So why can¡¯t I see my face? Why are there no mirrors here? Or in Gradden March? I should be able to see my face! I have a face! Why can¡¯t I see my face?! What happened to my face?!!

    A cool rush flooded my brain, and I shivered all over. Weird how you get sidetracked and spirling about nonsense. Shows a lack of focus. Maybe I needed some alone time in the Tower Master¡¯s Quarters. I¡¯d only been there one time, who knows what else that place was good for? I looked more closely at the mirr- the interface. There was a little floating rock in an empty blue sky displayed, looking very lonely in that huge expanse of glass. And if I really squinted¡­ There was maybe something on the rock?

    ¡°How do I control this thing?¡± I asked. Rhetorically, I wasn¡¯t really expecting an answer. Nor did I get one. The map in the Map Room was a complete pain in the neck to figure out too.

    In a fit of blind optimism I spread my thumb and forefinger apart like I was zooming in on my phone. It worked. The smudge on the rock turned into a medieval city. I noticed, approvingly, that it was perfectly circular, like any good anime fantasy city. Something about that Borg-Sample look just seemed so right. Unlike the fact my finger spreading motion actually worked.

    I had to sit down for a moment, letting the plush foam of my diabolical throne soothe me. Intuitive design? No bizarre controls or obscure symbolism? Someone must be holding the Dev¡¯s kids for ransom. Or their favorite blood servitor or however they work, I¡¯m not a programmer. I don¡¯t even have the right socks.

    I stared at the thing, discarding obvious red herrings like ¡°The map has intuitive controls too, you just are too dumb to understand them,¡± and ¡°The controls are intentionally unintuitive and mysterious to their creators, as a way to add immersion.¡± Which, given how twisted they were, had a shred of plausibility to it. I, however, did finally reach the all too banal truth in the end.

    It was a later addition to the game. The crappy map in the Map Room got the big fancy graphics and what the devs thought were useful, intuitive controls in Ver. 1.0. Then, after a few years of operation, when they brought in the Sky Realm mechanic, they didn¡¯t have the budget for art and someone had finally persuaded them to rip off controls that people already understood from their phones.

    I can believe in multidimensional necromancers. I can believe in soul bound warriors battling for eternity in a mobile gacha game. I can even believe that Maria-Chan really misses my visits to the Maid Cafe. But I flat out refuse to believe the forces of capitalism no longer apply. I¡¯d sooner disbelieve gravity.

    No points for guessing the cored out bit of the city was The Floating Quarter of Gradden March. More than just the one burned out street, it looked like I got the whole neighborhood. Then I gently slapped my forehead, because I am absolutely certain the ¡®whole neighborhood¡¯ was not a geometrically perfect circle. Either some bits were left out, or some extras were included.

    I fiddled with the zoom. ¡°Floating Quarter¡± popped up when I zoomed out just the right amount. Likewise, when I zoomed in, I could see the labels on buildings.

    Slum Housing Level 2. Occupation: 15/15. -15 Maximum Health of Occupants, -20 Public Order, -20 Production.

    A lot to unpack there. Looks like there were a whole bunch of systems at work, and I didn¡¯t understand any of them. I couldn¡¯t help but notice there was nothing about what the house actually produced. Did it generate taxes for me? Or did every worker require shelter, so the housing acted as a cap on total production that way? Also, if I was getting hit by negative fifteen and twenty penalties to things¡­ out of what? How big was that pool?

    Slum housing. Never lived in that, but Hell, I grew up in New York. It¡¯s a couple stops on the subway between luxury high rises and the projects that gave rise to rap. And it¡¯s whatever, but I don¡¯t want to be a slumlord. If for no other reason than refusing to tolerate such an outrageous stack of negative modifiers. This SSR-Tier Weeb is the TOWER LORD!

    Everyone should have their Hentai Mountain. Everyone. Each home should have their Doushin Valleys and Shrine of Soothing Toys. A doorman is a skippable luxury, so¡¯s a bathtub and soap¡¯s a scam, but everyone should have a quiet place to hide from the world. And those houses didn¡¯t look quiet.

    I¡¯d need better houses. And given that I have pretty limited land to work with, I¡¯d be building up, not out. At least, I don¡¯t know if I can expand beyond the bounds of that circle, and what if I clear more relic sites? Will we fill up that little floating island? Then what?

    If I want to build apartment buildings, that means I need concrete and steel and architects that actually know how to build that stuff, ¡®cause I sure don¡¯t. That means resources and people. And how do we get those?

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    He asked, reclining in his throne, toying with his scepter and wondering which of his murderous summons to call to attend him.

    Yeah, we get that the old fashioned way. Build up my forces, in both numbers, equipment, experience, ratings, whatever. Build up my defenses. Form a virtuous cycle with clearing relic sites. I cleared the Floating Quarter in what was essentially the most careful way possible- one time unit expended per day, retreating to digest my gains after each expedition.

    It worked, but the attacks on the Tower were getting stronger. We already had murder baboons in the mix, and we saw new unit types during the siege defense at Gradden March. The wall-breakers would likely smash straight through my dirt walls, not stopping until they hit the concrete reinforced stuff. Just¡­ going to ignore the titans, because I don¡¯t have a wall remotely big enough to deal with any of them.

    So the very conservative approach wouldn¡¯t keep working. I also needed to be scouting WAY more aggressively. So far, we hadn¡¯t found much in the way of resources. We found one merchant and one relic site. Not good enough. Not remotely good enough. Rache needed to get her rear in gear and start clearing the map.

    Then there was the resource management side of things. In that I now had resources to manage. Just looking at that stat block for the slum housing was giving me a headache. Was it possible to delegate this stuff? But I needed to understand it before I could even begin to dream of delegation. How, exactly, did my little fief work?

    Sounds like something an advisor could, and should, explain. The little Gnome-Oppressed-Servitors set up a side table next to my throne, and with immense ceremony, put a little bell on it. One of those little bells with the wooden handle on top. In this case a silver bell with a beautifully polished rosewood handle.

    It was reddish colored, anyway. Cherry? I decided it was rosewood. That was a fancy sounding wood, and this was a throne room. Fancy was important. The bell was engraved with beautiful people attending court, speaking with someone clearly intended to be a king.

    I couldn¡¯t help but notice the people in the pictures had high cheekbones and distinctly pointy ears. Not Firen pointy, but¡­

    Well, if I already had a gnome shopkeeper and some kind of metallic tree stump running my armory, elves weren¡¯t the craziest thing. Elves were also notably fancy. Most of the time.

    I had a sudden, mad, moment of hope. How cool would it be if a tool tip would pop up when I touched the bell? ¡°Oh, what¡¯s this? Good heavens, a small window with a clear, concise description and use guide has appeared as soon as I touched it! Amazing. I think this will happen every time I touch something weird from now on.¡±

    I gently touched the bell. Nothing happened. It was a little cool to the touch, smooth and much heavier than it looked. I¡¯d have to play around with it. All that was left was for the little gubbins to do the throne room upgrades. Alethai seemed to have a real flair for the fancy, the gilt and the grand. I was cautiously optimistic.

    An optimism that was, for once, rewarded. They definitely had prior Throne Room design experience. The walls were finished in white plaster, then painted a particularly elegant shade of blue. Like some granny¡¯s precious Wedgewood vase. That blue. I don¡¯t know what you call that color, but it reeked respectability. And, I hoped, authority. Which did lead me to wonder who I needed to impress with a fancy Throne Room.

    There were frescoes painted on the ceiling. Mostly of trees I didn¡¯t recognize, though the circle of angels holding hands directly above my throne were a particularly tasteful touch. Elf angels, admittedly, but that¡¯s fine. Sometimes, you just need the special angels. Especially if you have special problems. Like, and I couldn¡¯t get away from this idea, who did I need to impress with my Throne Room? Fingers powerfully crossed that it was purely cosmetic.

    I glanced over at the windows. Massive improvements. Why, two of them even had door handles!

    They even had door handles.

    Oh. Oh no.

    I slowly walked over to one and, with a shaking hand, jerked it open. There was a large balcony with a thick stone railing around it. The view out over the fortifications was wonderful. Really, really top notch.

    I had a throne. A scepter. Troops. And now a balcony. I would have to give speeches in the future, wouldn¡¯t I? The anticipatory embarrassment and failure made me want to dig a hole and hide in it until the heat death of the universe dissolved my shame. I tried to make a speech after we killed the Alpha monster. Never again. I slowly retreated back into the throne room, and did my best to ignore the balconies.

    The whole thing had a very refined feeling. Very put together. I felt like the scene was missing some enormous Renaissance era paintings to hang on the wall. Carvaggio has to be public domain by now, right? So the designers could steal make an homage to his stuff that I could hang on the walls.

    Funny- I have an incredibly granular appreciation of the art and history in anime, but I can¡¯t tell you what the redecorated room most resembled. All I know was that I was getting strong Le Chevalier D¡¯Eon vibes. That series may have expanded my horizons in some¡­ unusual directions. But I think we can all quickly move past that point, not dwell on it, and appreciate just how incredibly nice and not weird my new Throne Room redecoration is.

    Any bonuses for the redecoration? I looked around for something to clue me in. Nothing. Again. There hadn¡¯t been anything at any point before either, but hope springs eternal. Like, maybe I could get a portrait of myself to hang on the wall. Kings did that, so why not Tower Masters. Then I could see my face and find out what they did why can¡¯t I see my-

    Ah, I really am under a lot of stress, aren¡¯t I. Mmm. That cooling sensation. I can see why Versai enjoys it so much. I walked over to the doorway to just drink in the whole room remodel. It was all very elegant. Which I liked, don¡¯t get me wrong. It really did something for me, looking at all that and knowing that it was mine. That I had earned it, leading my summons to a decisive victory. Quite literally reversing what had been a crushing defeat. Not even a defeat. I re-wrote the history of a genocide.

    And plopped in the middle of it like a porta-potty in the middle of a Tiffany¡¯s as my throne. My ¡°Technically it only kind of looks like a Lay-Z-Boy recliner, notice the lack of a lever on the side,¡± canary yellow microfiber covered throne.

    The contrast was striking. I certainly felt like I had been struck. I had my scepter. I had a bell for summoning my minions. I had a magic mirror to supervise my domain from. I apparently had a council. Tower Master was, apparently, a short step from King. And since I needed to expand aggressively, there would be a price to pay. Not by me, at least in the short term.

    It¡­ would be very hard to keep all my summons alive. Moving faster, fighting more, meant more risks. It meant I could prepare less and be less hands on with everything. Some of my summons could think and act independently. Most couldn¡¯t. I had to micromanage, or I would quickly have no one to manage. I had promised to bring them all home with me. I hate the idea of leaving them here, summoned endlessly from the void to stand and fight against the monsters. Their stories always ending the same damn way.

    I dithered, then sat on the throne once more. I needed advice, so it was time to test out the bell. Who it would summon was still an open question. Sebastian said he was running the Floating Quarter on my behalf, so he would be a logical choice. He wasn¡¯t the only person in Gradden March with a functional brain, though.

    I picked it up. It was heavier than it looked, but still light enough to lift with two fingers and my thumb. I gave it a little ring. The vibrations seemed to echo on and on and on, far longer than they ought to have. It was quite mystical. Which seemed fitting if the makers really were elves. I reclined a little, just enjoying the moment.

    I can only assume that is why the Devs extended their vibe-killing streak by having a screen pop up in front of me with a little ¡®bloop!¡¯ noise. Gold edged, with a pale blue background and white font. Felt like I was straight back into an old school JRPG.

    CONGRATULATIONS! The first piece of the Sky Realm has been set. The path towards the Golden Dawn opens, and your dominion will be known by all!

    To expand your Sky Realm, acquire Realm Fragments by conquering Relic Sites, completing Legendary quests at 100% completion rating or higher, or through trade. There may be hidden merchants who can tell you more.

    Wait. Wait just a damn second. NOW you are giving me tool tips?

    To ensure that your glorious rule is smooth, you may appoint a Counsel to assist in running the Realm. Each Counselor must be assigned a Role to be on the Counsel. You may change who performs which Role at any time. Counselors must be Six Stars or equivalent. Have fun and see how well your subjects perform in different Roles!

    The number of Councilors and Roles available is determined by the average level of your Throne Room and Council Summoning Bell. Your (RARE) grade Throne Room and (RARE) grade Summoning Bell allow you to have (4) Councilors and the following roles:

    Seneschal:

    Development:

    Economy:

    War:

    Next to each role was an empty box. Floating off to the side of the screen was a short array of pictures.

    Three things immediately occurred to me- I don¡¯t see word one on how these guys are getting paid and, two, these sound like powerful jobs, and three, my current options for counselors were a former madame, the man who puts the ¡®Organized¡¯ in Organized Crime in Gradden March, The Queen¡¯s personal thug, a merchant who was considered subhuman by career criminals, and Jim, who believed in violence considerably more than he believed in the fabric of reality.

    I looked back over at the gnome.

    ¡°You know what? I can tolerate graft. Let¡¯s get to it.¡±

 Vol. 2 Chap. 3 Asking What Your Country Can Do For You

    Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Powder pink clouds with sparkling lights shining in those fragrant mists. Suggestive, but still safe for broadcast, hints of flesh emerging from the inexplicably dense steam rising up from every water source in frame. Mmm. Gremory. Yes. Highschool DxD generally. Mmmm¡­

    I could feel myself drifting off to that happy, comfortable place known best to the weeb at heart. A safe place, forever welcoming. No death games. No heart shattering horror and trauma. Made in Abyss notwithstanding. Or Madoka Magica. Or Grave of the Fireflies. Just forever happy. Forever peaceful.

    ¡°The Floating Quarter has won a temporary reprieve, but the monsters press on us eternally. And so we must be eternally vigilant. Ready to wet our blades with unholy blood, to swim through entrails, to drown the hateful things in fire and magic. To exterminate them to their utmost. Who would have thought that it would still be possible to rise again? That even after obliteration, there is hope?¡±

    God damn it, Sebastian. I couldn¡¯t even be mad at him for spoiling the mood. It didn¡¯t occur to me that when I made him Seneschal, he might be taking the job to make sure I wasn¡¯t a halfwit like the Marchioness was. But that was clearly exactly what he was doing, as my councilors debated where to invest our currently ample funds.

    ¡°Oh yes. I stand by what I said, of course, but you really cannot overinvest in troops and equipment. Whatever it takes to put one more sword in a hand, build one more wall, steal one more potion. To lead one more despairing soul to the front, that others might yet live.¡± Madame¡­ damnit. Carousel. Her name was Carousel now. Her real name was lost before I even met her. I gave her the Development Portfolio. Seemed a good fit.

    I controlled a sigh. I have enough empathy to get why these guys were so violence oriented. They had just barely survived an extermination level event, and even the word ¡®survived¡¯ was questionable. The smell of blood and smoke lingered in their clothes, the trauma etched into their hearts.

    I¡¯d been through some stuff too, at this point, but their safe place wasn¡¯t my safe place. I have the needs of a weeb. Our needs are very specific and, compared to some people¡¯s hobbies, wholesome.

    Just saying, nobody got a traumatic brain injury being a One Piece fan. Go to a football game and loads of ¡®normal¡¯ people start running around with wedges of cheese on their heads. They start giving their nipples an outing in the too-cold-for-snow December air. They write weird tribal messages to each other on their sloshing beer guts. But somehow I¡¯m the weirdo for appreciating art, writing, and music.

    ¡°Right. I get what you are saying about expansion, but it¡¯s all crap if you can¡¯t keep what you¡¯ve got or defend your little life. Ah, defend your honorable, valuable life. Tower Master. Look, buy weapons, armor, troops and siege defense equipment. It¡¯s how you got the Floating Quarter in the first place, and it¡¯s how you will accumulate more everything later. Plus you have a wave to deal with every single day, so it¡¯s never going to not be the right investment.¡±

    Warrior Not-Exactly-Princess-But-Kinda Versai had apparently missed the memo on seductive voices. Or ignored the memo. Both were possible. She had the pretty person halo working overtime anyway. She may have never needed to work on tone or delivery.

    I gave her the ¡°War¡± portfolio when Jim decided that he would ¡°Sooner keep council with the hairs on my arse than sit about in a tower chatting and not getting paid.¡± Which¡­ fair, if short-sighted. Sebastian agreed instantly, and I knew perfectly well my accountants would be his bookies. With all that implied.

    ¡°I think we are basically agreed that we need a powerful military as our foundation, but it¡¯s how to get it and keep it that I¡¯m worried about.¡± I tried to smile politely and stay positive. ¡°Look, before we get into the weeds, how about you briefly explain your roles. For some reason, I can only see your job title, not what you actually do. Like¡­ mechanically.¡±

    They looked surprised at that. I guess it should be intuitively obvious? Somehow?

    Sebastian coughed politely. I briefly contemplated autodefenestration.

    ¡°Well a Seneschal does just that. They are the seneschal for your realm. Your realm is currently just the poorest part of Gradden March, but I see lots of room to rise.¡±

    I nodded thoughtfully. Then gave up on bluffing, as I was absolutely sure every single person in this room had seen through it immediately. ¡°For those of us who didn¡¯t grow up under feudalism, what does a seneschal do? What is your day to day work like?¡±

    That got me some long blinks.

    ¡°Not¡­ under feudalism? Did you grow up in a theocracy or something? Or did you have a ruling council of powerful lords? I have heard of some cities like that.¡± Carousel asked, her voice like velvet and honey.

    ¡°Federal democratic republic, and I have a feeling all three of those words will have absolutely nothing to do with how things here will be run. Seneschal?¡±

    ¡°A seneschal manages the non-military labor in their lord¡¯s holding. I see to their domestic arrangements, see to it that their work is completed well, and were we still in Gradden March, I would be overseeing the servants in the manor. However, as your tower does not have servants, I don¡¯t manage anything here.¡±

    My brain seized up for a minute. ¡°All the non-military labor? So, road building, wall building, farming, fishing, pottery-¡±

    ¡°Just so. It would also include things like producing weapons and armor, if we had forges and the appropriate smiths.¡± Sebastian nodded.

    ¡°Tax collection?¡± There was a certain edge to my voice. I couldn¡¯t help it.

    ¡°That is a¡­ delicate topic. Generally yes, though it could be argued that it falls under the purview of your Economic Counselor.¡± Sebastian smiled calmly. Osian was currently the Economic Counselor, and he was, apparently, the scummiest of the scumbag merchants in the entirety of Gradden March.

    Not the most successful merchant, I was carefully informed. In fact, he was considered among the bottom rung of merchants. In no small part because no one wanted to do business with him. Osian traded in all those awful things that made the other criminal merchants sick. Sebastian and Carousel both refused to stand within ten feet of him.

    I rubbed between my eyebrows. I have no experience managing people IRL, and almost none over the internet. Sebastian, on the other hand, has been playing this game on Legendary since before I was born. I have¡­ no idea how I am supposed to keep him under control.

    I guess it helps that his beloved niece is my summons and War Counselor?

    ¡°Versai?¡±

    ¡°My role is managing your military forces and war preparation.¡± Versai seemed to not know what feelings to feel. Which I get. She had been looping the first three days of a tower defense for, as best I could tell, centuries. Now, she finally got to find out what happened to Gradden March, find out what happened to her relatives, and reunited with her uncle. Who she would now be working with professionally.

    ¡°War preparation? Like¡­ more than the nightly tower defense and relic site raids?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Apparently, ¡®Realm Wars¡¯ are a thing.¡± Her voice sounded lost.

    ¡°Does that mean¡­ fighting other Tower Masters?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    The room got very quiet.

    I don¡¯t want to kill other human beings. I really, really don¡¯t want to kill other human beings. And if I¡¯m fighting monster realms, then that would mean fighting a Dyn Hunllef, and this one wouldn¡¯t be waiting for me to come and shank it. I could feel myself falling into the memory, how the blood and organs seemed to explode out at me and the stink! My God, the stench of it all!

    Huh, that cool wave seemed to come down a lot today. Weird. Oh well. Where was I?

    ¡°Let''s focus on what we can do immediately. What does ¡®preparing for war¡¯ mean here, and what does managing the troops mean? Frankly, my troops don¡¯t take any real management, beyond upgrades and the like.¡±

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Not like they needed feeding. Or latrines.

    ¡°It¡¯s exactly managing the troops and the upgrades.¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡±

    ¡°Well, and your non Awakened Souls troops.¡±

    ¡°EEEH?¡±

    ¡°Remember all those people you hired during the defense of Gradden March?¡±

    ¡°The Young Gentlemen, Made Men, Disbanded Militia, Working Girls-¡±

    ¡°Right, them, yeah. Well you can¡¯t use them to defend against waves here at the Tower, but you can use them to defend your Realm.¡±

    There was loud coughing from Sebastian, Osain and Carousel. Versai continued, considerably more bitterly.

    ¡°IF you invest in the buildings that train them and IF you pay to recruit them and IF you pay to maintain them, including housing, and IF you put the money into upgrades to make them more combat effective. Which requires more buildings, but that¡¯s outside of the War Counselor¡¯s job description.¡±

    My eyes slowly fixed on my Development Counselor, who smiled languidly at me. There was a hint of knowing seduction in those full lips, painted not red but lilac to match her dress and enormous floppy hat. It worked for her. I hated it.

    Every time I looked at Carousel, I kept seeing Madame. Madame looked like a tough old lady who had seen a few too many good meals and good drinks, but could still punch well above her weight. Madame wasn¡¯t flirty. Madame wasn¡¯t seductive. She employed professionals for that sort of thing, and made sure she was well paid for their services. Madame was a genuine article hero. I don¡¯t know who the Hell Carousel is, but she feels like a mockery and a desecration of a corpse.

    And¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure she volunteered for whatever it was the necromancers did to her, which is pretty damn interesting. And will be investigated, but not right this second.

    ¡°I¡¯m responsible for making everything better. Better buildings, better defenses, better resources, better people. A better Realm. All of which requires investment, but it all quickly pays for itself. Managed properly.¡±

    ¡°I like the sound of that.¡±

    She hummed, a touch deeper than you would imagine, but still sweet and feminine. If cherries dipped in dark chocolate could make a sound, this was it. Logically, I knew my skin couldn¡¯t crawl. But logic had little to do with this world.

    ¡°My focus is primarily on constructing and upgrading things. Better roads, for example, speed trade and military deployment, improve logistics, and also, inexplicably, improve the health of your serfs.¡±

    ¡°Huh. Wait, serfs?¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t really know what else to call them. They labor on land they do not own, remitting you taxes and their produce as ¡®rent,¡¯ and are not free to leave the land they work.¡± There was a smokey, playful look in her eye. I knew it wasn¡¯t her trying to seduce me. I think that¡¯s just how she was now. All the time.

    ¡°Let¡¯s put a pin in the naming situation for the moment and dig in more on the buildings.¡±

    ¡°Another example might be building those forges that Sebastian mentioned, and funding apprenticeship programmes to train workers. Funding and organizing the recruitment of master smiths to train those apprentices. Improving the furnaces to burn hotter, or use less magic. Drop hammers. Better safety gear to maintain production rates and machinery uptime. And so on.¡±

    Did I believe she could have made that statement this morning? No. This was the system dumping stuff in her brain. Another shudder moment.

    ¡°Alright, great stuff. What about economic development? Because the Floating Quarter doesn¡¯t have much in the way of industry, right?¡±

    ¡°Wrong, Tower Master. Very wrong.¡± She slowly shook her head. ¡°Meat processing, poor alchemist workshops, innumerable small crafters and traders, livery stables, pig breeders, markets, grocers, tanneries, and I haven¡¯t even touched on things like saloons, brothels, gambling dens and the like. It was the poorest part of the city. All sorts of smelly, unpleasant jobs were done there.¡±

    I thought about that a moment, and then the New Yorker in me kicked in again- ¡°Real Estate.¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡± Carousel asked, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

    ¡°Who own the real estate? All that slum housing has an owner. Who¡¯s collecting rent on the slums?¡± Because the owners are going to be a problem. I just freaking KNOW they are going to be a problem. You ever see anything in any city anywhere that started with ¡°Once the commercial landlords got involved, everything got better.¡±?

    My question was met with more bemused looks. ¡°You do. Well, technically my father does, but practically, you do.¡± Versai half shrugged.

    ¡°Could you elaborate on that?¡± I, the accused slumlord, asked.

    ¡°Gradden March, both the city and the territory, are my Father¡¯s fief. Or they were. Land given directly to him by the crown for his support and benefit. Permanently, on the condition that he fulfills his obligations to the Crown.¡±

    ¡°Yes, with you so far.¡±

    ¡°Not sure what else needs explaining.¡±

    ¡°How do we go from there to being in the rental business?¡±

    ¡°That''s¡­ how everything works? You get land from the Crown in exchange for taxes and military service. You then do whatever you want to get money and troops from the land. Which is generally renting fields to peasants and shops to shopkeepers and, yes, homes to townsfolk.¡± She slowly explained, clearly not understanding how I didn¡¯t understand this.

    Feudalism. The whole thing was built to do two things- make the people at the top rich and provide support for their armies. No different than mob families, really.

    The MC¡¯s in Baccano! were gangsters, and that was a really fun show. Something worth modeling there? Maybe style, but otherwise, probably not.

    ¡°So all that industry, all that housing, all that everything is my personal property, and I am earning off it in various ways. Your job, Carousel, is to make all this stuff better, which improves my income and improves everything done by the other departments. Better weapons for the War Department, better trade goods for Economy, better resources for tower and realm defense.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡± She nodded indulgently, which caused thoughts hardwired by hentai to run slap bang into the horror that she was being compelled to act this way. Again. The whiplash had already exhausted me. I had a sad feeling that I would wind up avoiding Carousel.

    ¡°Which leads me to Economy. Osain?¡±

    Osain was by himself on one side of the throne room. They had all been summoned together, but by some strange magic, three of my four counselors gravitated together, away from the merchant. Osain had the look of someone who knew their job was highly temporary, and didn¡¯t intend to fight for it.

    ¡°Trade, basically. Mostly intra-relm, though I can commission the building of certain improvements, in collaboration with the Seneschal and Development, that do give us an import-export route.¡±

    That got my attention in a hurry. ¡°Say more.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ Carousel-¡±

    ¡°Madame Carousel to you, merchant.¡± The venom in her voice made me jolt. I shot her a look. She looked straight back. ¡°The circumstances of the battlefield required a degree of tolerance. But we aren¡¯t on the battlefield now. And since his ¡®patrons¡¯ are no longer here to protect him, the only thing keeping me from settling scores is the laws of this place. Which he knows.¡±

    Sebastian had a meaningless little smile on his face, deliberately not looking over at Osain.

    ¡°Osain¡­ what exactly did you sell?¡±

    He didn¡¯t want to answer. I could see him struggling not to answer as the pressure built. At the faint edge of my hearing, I could hear the ringing of the Council Bell. Another bit of unexplained magic? But whatever it was, it was building and building, crushing the little man in his greasy finery down.

    ¡°Animals! I traded in animals!¡±

    ¡°LIAR!¡± Carousel shrieked. ¡°You damned, DAMNED liar!¡±

    I raised my hand. ¡°Carousel, tell me later. Osain, you tell me later too. And Sebastian. Each of you tell me separately. Later.¡± I rubbed my temples. What the Hell am I supposed to do here? There are no courts. I don¡¯t even know if he committed any crimes.

    Except, of course, that doesn¡¯t matter, does it? I¡¯m the Don. And if someone needs to sleep with the fishes, they will. The job would get delegated out to my Seneschal, now that I think about it. Labor management. No wonder Sebastian was looking indulgently bored.

    That warm, pink place of 2-D softness where I could ignore the world was looking, somehow, even more appealing. My personal paradise.

    It seemed so far away, now.

    ¡°Back on track. What can Economy do for me?¡±

    ¡°Give you the resources needed for your upgrades, purchase and support troops, and lay the foundation for expansion. Roads can be used for diverse purposes, after all, but so can good warehouses that have been fortified against rodents and mold. Investments in forges and factories on one end, and building shops for high end drapers on the other. Enamelers and jewelers may seem like a useless frippery, until you recall that they make the things that Enchanters enchant.¡± Osain explained.

    ¡°Which leads me to what I really want. That Magic Tower was insanely powerful and useful. Did any of them make it back with us?¡±

    My counselors shook their heads in unison. ¡°I figured. So can we build them?¡±

    More head shaking.

    ¡°What do we need to build them?¡±

    ¡°Mages, Tower Master. Specialized enchanters, and in significant numbers. Each brick and stone of that structure is either innately magical, or has undergone multiple refinements at the hands of specialists, or both. And we don¡¯t have any of those materials in the first place, or the specialists to refine them.¡± Carousel spread her hands in a charming display of helplessness.

    ¡°Well¡­ can we train up mages?¡±

    Osain smiled bitterly, as did Carousel. Sebastian¡¯s smile got even more indulgent. ¡°Alas, the Crown retained exclusive control over training mages and magical construction. Madame Carousel served twenty years in the Royal Mage Corps, I believe. But since you were able to obtain the Floating Quarter, who knows what else you will find. Just lying about. Waiting for someone strong enough to come and pick it up.¡±

 Weeaboo Vol. 2 Chap. 4 Noisily Cracking Oneâ€™s Knuckles

    I kneaded my temples slowly. There was a lot to unpack. No magic towers for the foreseeable future was a loss, but that wasn¡¯t the only sort of artillery available to me. Nor the only sort used during the siege defense at Gradden Marche.

    ¡°Ballistae. You had a bunch of Ballistae that you made from scrap. Can we make more of those?¡±

    My Counselors looked at each other in confusion. I wasn¡¯t having it.

    ¡°NO! No you don¡¯t! I know they are called spear launchers or whatever in your language, but we had this whole discussion about what they are called in MY language. You know exactly what I am talking about.¡±

    ¡°It''s a ferociously strange word, Tower Master.¡± Versai shrugged. ¡°Does it even mean anything? Lansiwr Gwaywffon does exactly what it says. ¡°What does this thing that looks like a cart-sized crossbow with a spear for a bolt do? Oh, I bet it launches spears.¡± She then paused, collected herself, then more politely added ¡°Tower Master.¡±

    Gosh I am so happy I unlocked the relationship system. I bet she talks to me like this because we are such close friends. At a whopping one heart out of who knows how many.

    ¡°And we can build how many of them?¡±

    ¡°At present, none.¡± Versai shrugged. ¡°But I believe we can build some with the right development.¡±

    ¡°Quite right. Actually, it¡¯s some way up a whole industrial chain that would need developing, but it is quite possible.¡± Carousel nodded in agreement.

    ¡°Can we deploy them here?¡± I asked, feeling a rare moment of hope.

    ¡°No,¡± Versai said, casually stomping a steel clad heel into the testicles of optimism.

    ¡°Great.¡± Long cosmetic exhale. Sequential system roll-out, where integration was less important than launching new features. Just keep stacking the systems on top of each other, and make sure each one has a special currency that can be purchased for real money.

    I felt a sudden spiritual pain. ¡°Invest what? Taxes paid in what? What does my new fief use as currency?¡±

    They gave me another look like I was an idiot for not knowing.

    ¡°You know what? I¡¯m calling shenanigans on this look too. None of you, not a single one of you, knew what the Hell a ¡®Sky Realm¡¯ was, yesterday. None of you knew that the Floating Quarter of Gradden March could be, in any way, linked permanently with my Tower.¡±

    That got a startled look from them, then a thoughtful one. ¡°It¡¯s always been Sky Gold, hasn¡¯t it, Madam Carousel?¡± Sebastian murmured.

    Sky Gold! Are you kidding me! Sky Gold! What kind of low effort, Friday afternoon job is Sky Gold?! My hand to Gojo (May his limitless funds bless me now and in the days to come), if the currency is just a gold coin with a crown on one side and a coat of arms on the other, I¡¯m going to riot.

    ¡°It has. Rich, heavy gold coins of shocking purity. A startling, ancient crown on one side, and the heraldry of some equally arcane and obscure Kingdom on the other. I believe a terrible mystery lies behind those coins.¡± Carousel shook her head, the giant floppy hat nearly thwapping Sebastian as it waved back and forth. ¡°It has always been thus.¡±

    I felt the need to kill. To burn it all down. Then I remembered I was sitting in my own Throne Room and I would be burning down what, exactly?

    ¡°Yes. Quite right. But was it always thus yesterday? Sebastian¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°And not to put too fine a point on the poignard, Carousel, but in all the years of our acquaintance, I don¡¯t believe I have ever heard you use the word ¡®thus.¡¯¡±

    Oh, ¡®ballistae¡¯ is a nonsense word, but you know ¡®poignard,¡¯ do you? Not that I¡¯m feeling bitter. Gold coins with a crown and a coat of arms. Beatings are too good for them.

    Carousel looked like she was glitching out. I felt my lips tug up into a nasty grin. Sebastian had figured out he was in some twisted game a long time ago. More than that, he had already started working his own exploits. I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that he was a bit more on the ball.

    The strangest expression crossed their faces, like they suddenly relaxed. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not important right now.¡± Sebastian smiled his charming smile.

    ¡°Yes, the mystery will reveal itself in good time.¡± Carousel matched his smile with one of her own. My own grin vanished.

    I knew the Tower screwed with the Awakened Souls¡¯ minds. I¡¯d seen Versai flat out not hear things, forget things, misunderstand things that she should have been perfectly clear on. That the mind control extended to the beings brought back through the relic site wasn¡¯t strange. I just don¡¯t think I had ever seen it be so blatant before. Or maybe I was just noticing it better.

    When Carousel told me about the Dyn Hunllef, it unlocked Atrocity Mode. Which was not a good time. Gonna just leave this particular thread hanging.

    ¡°Alright, one last point- how does this all tie into the order system?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Upgrades and orders take time, still measured in orders. However, they don¡¯t take up an order.¡± Versai smiled. I smiled too.

    ¡°So I can order as many things as I can afford, and they all happen at the same time?¡±

    ¡°Basically.¡± She nodded.

    Fantastic! It really was a parallel system with the Tower management system.

    ¡°Alright, let''s get the ball rolling on this, then plan out our last order of the day for the Tower. Then it¡¯s on to the wave, and the next day. Given the absolutely hilarious amount of loot we just got, I¡¯m looking forward to giving the monsters a solid kick in the teeth.¡±

    That got smiles of approval all around. We got into it. While we all agreed that the ultimate goal had to be military power, I was adamant that the way we get there is a strong economy. Build that up first, then roll the cash into expanding the army.

    We weren¡¯t starting from scratch, thankfully. The Sky Realm had its own small treasury, with what sure looked like a lot of gold in it. I knew these were just starter funds for, essentially, the tutorial, but whatever. Free gold is free gold.

    I did rebuild the militia barracks, though. Those guys were way, way too useful to miss. Everything else I rolled into improving roads and water supply. It would take six orders to complete the lowest level upgrade (not to mention costing a fortune) but it was worth it. The production rate would go up, attrition would go down, siege holdout time would go up, potion costs would (very slightly) go down¡­ on and on and on.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Osain and Sebastian went back to the Floating Quarter to start the ball rolling. They couldn¡¯t help in what was coming next. The routine upgrades I left to Versai- we just had too much in the way of upgrade kits, armor pieces and stone tapes to make my micro-managing worthwhile. Well. I ordered her to distribute them all, prioritizing herself and Carousel for this round, then working downwards by star level. I kept for myself the best bits of management- summoning and costumes. And Tower upgrades. And defense design.

    It occurs to me that I might not be the best at delegating.

    I¡¯m just going to ignore that.

    First and foremost- summoning. I had three hundred and forty Resonance Crystals, which was¡­ kind of nuts, but in a good way. I had accumulated a pretty big sack of directed summoning fragments, which, glory be! Yielded one rather pretty looking, vivid and downright noisy crystal.

    Four new summons? Yes please. Off I trotted to the summoning pool, and in they went.

    I nearly fainted with joy when I saw who came out. Two Judiths, a Pomoroi, and from the directed summoning crystal, we had a new recruit. And she looked like Miyuki¡¯s tomboy cousin.

    Tanned from a life outdoors, long black hair tied up in a high ponytail, and a surprisingly form-fitting ninja outfit, she was scratching a Yoruichi itch I didn¡¯t know I had. And best of all were the four stars glimmering overhead. I was getting the big doki-doki¡¯s for her, okay? Don¡¯t judge me, Bleach was formative for a lot of us. It took me a moment to get myself under control.

    ¡°Judiths, welcome. Please go find the other Judiths and Marci, I¡¯m sure there will be work for you soon. Pomoroi, a pleasure and an honor. You will be working with, and under, Steelheart Pomoroi. I believe she is currently outside.¡±

    ¡°We can get it done!¡±

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree!¡± Pomoroi¡¯s bark landed like a lung punch, as her biography intruded into my memory. I shook my head and pushed through.

    ¡°And you are?¡± I asked the new recruit.

    ¡°I am the hunter of Hidden Moon Mountain- Rikka.¡± Her voice was cool and a touch distant, her eyes already sweeping through the room and interrogating the shadows.

    ¡°Hunter¡­¡± I didn¡¯t see a bow. ¡°What do you hunt?¡± Her eyes focused back on me.

    In the same cool monotone- ¡°Demons. Human and otherwise.¡±

    Ah. ¡°Are you a scout?¡±

    She cocked her head fractionally to one side, thinking about it. ¡°Yes.¡±

    I controlled my urge to fist-pump. Two scouts? Hell. Yes. We had Rache, she of the cowboy/motorcycle aesthetic and now Ninja Vigilante Rikka. I couldn¡¯t wait to find out how she did her thing.

    Happy thought- Rache was only One Star. A Four Star Scout¡­ just what would her range be like?

    ¡°Do you fight ranged or melee?¡±

    She cocked head to the opposite side. I had the feeling that I was being observed, judged and found wanting by a cat.

    ¡°Both. I set traps, then go in with a dagger or shoot them with a sling.¡± She did say hunter, didn¡¯t she. Although that versatility was very nice.

    ¡°And do you have a mount, or a vehicle or something?¡±

    ¡°How could I hunt if I did?¡±

    And there it was. My old friend Trade-Off. Rache was a liability in combat. During waves, her job was strictly working as an artillery spotter and taking shots at the wounded. Which she was really damned good at, but what she was even better at was covering a whole lot of territory when I sent her out to scout. I¡¯m not sure how much a hunter would help on the scouting front.

    I scratched my chin, thinking it through. Rikka went back to staring at shadows. I wonder if she could hear it when the ideas clicked in my head.

    ¡°Good at finding hidden monsters?¡±

    ¡°Naturally.¡±

    ¡°Can you make traps to help others spot them?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    I smiled. The Monsters wouldn¡¯t just get a kick in the teeth this wave, they would get stomped.

    Having summoned my new troops, I was onto the next most important thing- new costumes. Of which I had three, not including the Cutthroat Clothiers. I was really starting to wonder what their deal was. I couldn¡¯t find any trace of them, but I now had an unreasonably large stack of orders for them. My best guess was that it was one of the few still blurred out cards pinned to the notice board in my Throne Room. I¡¯d find out eventually.

    One of the costumes was for Rikka, of all people. I took one look and nearly gagged. Phony, fashion-grade camo oversized jacket and camo pants that wouldn¡¯t cut it in a Cabela¡¯s, dotted all over with spray-paint-effect skulls and coming complete with a balaclava (same skull ¡®sprayed¡¯ on the back of it) and matching high top sneakers.

    ULTRA RARE, LIMITED EDITION-  Wrecking Rikka! To celebrate our exciting new expansion Darkness Falls on Hidden Moon Mountain, Spires of Ancient Twilight is excited to announce its collaboration with -

    There was a seal, or sigil, or some collection of shapes that superseded the concept of language and instead impressed burning meaning directly into my forebrain, stamping down the meaning of a thing beyond all mortal reference, beyond the concepts of existence and dimensionality, beyond all morality, searing and burrowing down-

    We CANNOT WAIT to show you how it turned out. Now you can enjoy Rikka, Miyuki, Yoko, and Mrs. Hungry in both their classic outfits on the battlefield, and sharply dressed for the urban streets as they relax around the Tower.

    And that was it. No added stats, no bonuses. Just a new costume. And the costume sucked.

    I grabbed it of course, but it still sucked. Industry collabs, I swear.

    The other two were vastly more sensible. The first was a rather snappy uniform for Radz, which swapped the gold accents on her black uniform with red accents. No bonuses to damage, but it did give bonuses to how fast she could acquire new targets. Not fire on the targets. Just sped up how fast she could aim at them. Which was something. I¡¯d have her equip it. The last one was for Kim, and it was a show costume.

    And it was¡­ oddly normal? A slim black suit, white tank top underneath, with a chunky golden chain and alligator skin boots to finish it out. One sleeve pinned up. It added a certain androgynous flair to our resident support expert.

    Sunset Blaze Kim

    Worn by Kim as she performed with Call to Arms at the Riverside Music Festival. It was subsequently altered after she lost her arm fighting against the Monsters during the show. She insisted on wearing it for public appearances afterwards, including the public inquiry into the massacre.

    A sewer outflow pipe had been improperly sealed by a lowest-bid contractor, resulting in the monsters having a direct channel into the city. Call to Arms turned their lights and music up as far as they would go, and launched into their most high energy set. They wanted to distract the monsters and give the crowd a chance to run away. It worked. Kim¡¯s secret boyfriend ran the light and sound rig. The Riverside Music Festival was the last show he ever produced.

    None of the band members walked off the stage in one piece. And in the remaining few months of her life, Kim had to watch her boyfriend¡¯s stomach being torn open and his guts chewed every night when she tried to sleep. Somehow, despite her blown-out eardrums, she could hear every scream. She still hears every scream.

    Sunset Blaze Kim- +100% Monster Aggro for Support Actions, +500% Monster Aggro Radius, +40 to Resistance.

    Kim¡­ was unfailingly cheerful. Never had a nasty word to say about anyone. Part of that was the Tower, but I always got the feeling that she wouldn¡¯t even if she could. Pomoroi¡¯s Steelheart uniform lets her hit the enemy harder, in exchange for giving up any possibility of retreat. Kim? Her Sunset Blaze uniform is a long scream of defiance. Screaming at the monsters that they took too much from her, but not everything. She was still standing ten toes down on the stage. Not even the devs could take that from her.

    ¡°All eyes on me.¡± I muttered. But there was no one alive enough in earshot to ask me what I meant. I gave Kim the costume a few minutes later. She looked very comfortable wearing it.

    I corralled Versai, Rakim (late of the Army Corps of Engineers) Marci and the Judith Squad and convened a conference in my Throne Room. Versai and Rakim for the work planning, Marci and the Judiths for the actual labor. I had my shiny new scepter in hand, just to see how much of an efficiency boost I was able to get out of it.

    ¡°Good news- We have a big sack of resources and we have increased our labor force by roughly fifty percent. Which is amazing. And we still have one order left before tonight¡¯s wave, also amazing. Our Blue Roses are now functional, ish, when used in conjunction with our powerful new Six Star- Carousel. We have an additional Pomoroi, increasing our artillery by, again, fifty percent. To three, but that¡¯s still fantastic. We have been joined by Rikka, our new scout who is going to be a nightmare in the woods for any sneaky units.¡±

    I smiled around the room, expecting nothing and getting it. No matter. Pressing onward.

    ¡°The bad news is that the current defensive setup is both stupid and dangerous. I thought it made sense, but based on the types of monsters we saw at Gradden March, it¡¯s a deathtrap for us, not them.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± Versai raised an aristocratic eyebrow. ¡°Leaving aside the giant monsters, as raising a wall that could keep them out is near-impossible. For the rest, I think the current arrangement would work reasonably well.¡±

    ¡°Wall breakers. Enough of them could plow a straight line from the woods through our maze, bypass all the pits and smash directly into the trench in front of the final wall. Leaving a trail for all the other monsters to run straight through.¡±  I shook my head. ¡°To say nothing of the exploding murder baboons. They could take out the spikes on top of the walls, letting regular monsters through. I would still put money down on flying or ranged units popping up eventually.¡±

    I drew in a deep, resentful breath. I had been really proud of my fan shaped killing zone idea, but the deep pits and low walls at the turns to allow for easier artillery targeting was, at best, short sighted. And my notion of watch towers for our lovely sniper which put her outside the walls was¡­ equally shortsighted. Maximizing the availability of headshots in exchange for maximum vulnerability was a losing trade.

    These were real people, lobotomized and trapped in dolls bodies, but real. Promises aside, given how big the waves got, I really did need to keep my summons alive at all costs.

    ¡°Alright, well, we can¡¯t do anything too dramatic in the time available. What did you have in mind? Versai asked.

    ¡°First- we now have Carousel, and access to her ult. That is, her particular discipline- the Final Revel or whatever it was called.¡±

    ¡°So we need a big open area, like the one in front of the final wall.¡± Versai nodded.

    ¡°We stick Pomoroi on each bastion, so they can fire into both flanks as the monsters spin around mindlessly.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense. Radz?¡±

    ¡°Just stick her in front of the front door, behind that final wall. She¡¯s shooting almost vertically as it is. I can¡¯t imagine she needs to lower her elevation that much to be effective at longer ranges.¡± I grinned. ¡°No, the real question is how do we make best use of our other units, and slow the monsters down effectively. And I have an idea about that.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Versai, did you know that you can build a wall offensively?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I grew up in a castle, of course I know that.¡±

    ¡°Versai?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Work with me here.¡±

 Weeaboo Vol. 2 Chap. 5 New Tactics for the Sixth Wave

    ¡°And the morning and the evening were the sixth day.¡± The complex feelings in me seemed to call for that kind of language.

    ¡°Tower Master?¡± Carousel looked over at me from under her enormous hat.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been here six days. And I think I have¡­ changed. Six very long days.¡±

    I didn¡¯t have the time to change the layout of the battlefield too radically. That would happen tonight, after the wave. I decided that a good first-day job for Rikka would be to pick off a wave straggler and keep them alive for the exploit. I suppose that¡¯s animal cruelty, but since the monsters existed to cause genocide in the most painful and horrific ways possible, I was okay with it. Like pouring gasoline into a hornet¡¯s nest. Coexistence, like peace, was never an option.

    No, a radical reshaping was impossible, but two new Judiths, a heap of resource packs and a scepter that improved efficiency meant I was able to make some tasty improvements. My personal favorite? We extended the¡­ I¡¯m going to call it the Redoubt. I have too many walls. ¡°Big, concrete covered, dirt and rubble filled wall with triangular bastions sticking out of it for cross fire from ranged units,¡± is a real pain to try to say concisely.

    Anyway, we built the  sucker an in-law¡¯s suite, in the form of a little arrowhead shaped island about forty paces from the center of the Redoubt. It wasn¡¯t particularly big, but what it was, was a thirty foot high platform with crenelations to hide behind. We got the dirt for it by digging even more dirt out of the forest floor, making the dry moat in front of the Redoubt even deeper and wider. Then, just to prevent any little accidents or enthusiastic climbing, the Judiths wrapped the whole thing in concrete.

    I decided to call it the Bastion. Which was also confusing given the bastions on the Redoubt, but I was running out of names for things, and it made sense to me.

    It was beautiful. Access was by ladders, and we removed the ladders after we got the troops installed. For our trial run, I stuck Kim to draw aggro and buff, the Blue Roses to buff Carousel and debuff, Carousel for DPS and control, Maria in case of accident or emergency, and Rakim for DPS and to keep any sneaky murder baboons off my summons. A job she was ably supported in by my lovely ninja sniper, Miyuki.

    It¡­ didn¡¯t feel great sticking so many people out where I fully intended them to get surrounded by monsters. I still had the instinct to keep everyone where I could reach them, as though somehow I could save them if they got into trouble. Which was nonsense, of course. In battle I was a liability, not an asset. My job was to give orders, not fight. Which led to the final innovation, and the one I wanted least.

    My new balconies counted as part of my Throne Room. Which meant that I could now stand up on the balcony and give orders ¡®from the Throne Room,¡¯ and therefore enjoy the efficiency buff from my new scepter. Oddly enough, none of my summons, including my Six Star summons, could walk out onto the balcony. They quite literally bounced off an invisible wall. So much for a seriously elevated snipers nest. But you do what you can.

    Logically, I should stand in the safest place and give orders. Logically, this was the safest place to give orders from. Logically, if my scepter gave an efficiency buff to people obeying my orders (and watching the Judiths sling dirt around like they were fanning smoke, it was a chunky buff) then I should stand where I could use it. But I hated it. It felt cowardly. It felt like running away but not to anywhere safe.

    Sometimes logic is just garbage.

    ¡°Alright, drop the last stakes and let¡¯s get to it.¡± We didn¡¯t have time for any big modifications to the looping murder track, but I did have the watch towers moved around to the back of the Tower, out of harm''s way. As for the looping path itself, we actually shortened it a bit, removing a few loops to make more room for the new bastion.

    The logic was pretty straightforward- Carousel. Since day one, ¡°Slow them down, shoot them up.¡± has been the plan. Well, Final Revel couldn¡¯t be cast very often, but when it was? It slowed every affected monster down to a crawl, debuffed them, and would eventually kill them. Better still, it made them go around in circles, and sometimes even attack each other.

    Sticking Carousel where she could affect a maximum number of monsters just made sense. And, of course, the bastion was within easy reach of the Redoubt¡¯s walls and Pomoroi¡¯s cannons. The Mikas would be shooting disoriented fish in a barrel.

    Still, it would be silly to neglect all the existing earthworks. They would slow down and kettle up our uninvited guests. And they would give Versai lots of room to work. Her speed-hack exploit was the stuff of Vitamix dreams. Just had to make sure there was plenty in the chute being fed to her, and nothing sneaking in behind.

    Did this arrangement mean limiting my firing arcs for Pomoroi? Yes, somewhat. She would have a hard time reaching into some parts of the murder track the monsters would be running. Still, I think the tradeoff was more than worth it.

    Time to find out if I was right. The last of the stakes was hammered home in the moat, hopefully slowing down the monsters even more.

    The sun set like it was running away. The bright, full moon rose, ready to shine down on slaughter. Ours, or theirs. Either way, it was coming. Now.

    ¡°Rache, Rikka. Find them, and mark them for the Artillery.¡±

    ¡°Chromed Lightning!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll never see me coming.¡±

    I nodded, watching them head out. Rache ripped away on her ghost horse/motorcycle, and Rikka¡­ just kind of vanished. I don¡¯t really know how to describe it. I was looking straight at her, then she passed under a tree branch and wasn¡¯t there any more. No little optical shimmer, no melding into the shadows. Just gone.

    ¡°Not Four Stars for nothing. A lot slower than Rache, but a lot faster than¡­ basically everyone else who isn¡¯t using an exploit. Nifty.¡± I shook my head and refocused. ¡°Artillery, engage targets as soon as they are in range. All Ranged attackers, fire at will. Kim, Blue Roses, keep ¡®em buffed. Medics, keep them healthy. Versai, hit ¡®em as soon as they enter the track. Try to pile up as many as you can, before staging a fighting retreat. Carousel, use Glass Arrow as much as you can, but DO NOT use Final Revel until ordered.¡±

    I got a chorus of replies, which I mostly ignored. Eyes on the forest now. Time to see if I was successful in turning that loot into combat effectiveness.

    There were a few minutes of stillness. Then out of the dark forest, a plume of silvery smoke rose.

    ¡°That¡¯s Rache. Must be a couple kilometers out.¡±

    ¡°Radz raining death.¡±

    I nodded. Outside of Pomoroi¡¯s range in just a few minutes? Definitely Rache. There was a chunk noise, then a woosh. A few seconds later, a BOOM rattled the forest. The sound still made me flinch, even after hearing it so many times. Then two more silvery threads rose from the woods. Still a long way out, but closing fast.

    I frowned. The forest was as dark and dense as always. I had seen the trees being scythed down by artillery many times, but somehow, the forest didn¡¯t look ragged or pockmarked by the explosions. Now¡­ just why was that? Did the wood regrow unless it had been harvested by workers or something? If so, it was hundreds of years worth of growth in hours. Which would be¡­ actually not weird for this place.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    The Pomorois started firing. The effect of the Steelheart Uniform was immediately obvious- they were shooting a bit faster than normal, and I swear the boom were louder. Still too early to see the effectiveness myself, but¡­ I sighed and shook my head. I swept my eyes around the battlefield, trying to see if I was missing anything. So far, the answer was no. The battle was still out in the woods.

    Was there¡­ I squinted hard, over by one of the long walls that was meant to keep enemies in the murder track. They were just rammed earth, not meant to hold off a bombardment. Really, it was about using the monsters ¡°Always take the shortest unimpeded path to the Tower Master¡± instincts against them. So long as there was a recognizable barrier and a clear path, they would take the path and avoid the barrier. But did the wall look a little¡­ torn up, about half way along on the right?

    ¡°LIGHT THE STEALTH DETECTORS!¡± I roared.

    Those resource packs did have blue magnesium in them. But not a lot of it. Worst of all, the detectors were consumables, and once lit, couldn¡¯t be switched off.

    Along the Redoubt and the Bastion, black iron lanterns were lit. Blue light pierced the darkness. Highlighting the dozens of murderous creatures boiling in from over the wall. They were coming from behind and to the side of the Bastion. They literally caught Miyuki looking the wrong way.

    ¡°I see the snake hidden in the grass!¡±

    A little late, Miyuki!

    I lost count of how many there were. They knew they had been spotted, rushing towards the Redoubt, some diverting to try and climb the high walls of the Bastion.

    Good luck with that- I had the Judiths smooth out the concrete extra special. Say ¡®Hi¡¯ to your cousins in Hell for me.

    ¡°Carousel, Final Revel! Pomorois, target the closest enemies!¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord!¡±

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree!¡±

    The horrible things were boiling in, mutilated faces and stumpy bodies that moved far faster than I wanted to believe was possible. Worst of all, I knew that I wasn¡¯t seeing all of them. My detectors couldn¡¯t be everywhere. Final Revel took time to be cast, and it didn¡¯t last forever. I wanted to set it off at just the right moment to maximize the effect. So much for that idea.

    ¡°Never fear, Mika is here!¡± The snap of crossbows rang out, as Corporal Mika got her squad in action. Cold eyes peeked out from under floppy white berets, pulling triggers and dropping bodies. The blue lights made the murder baboons really pop against the darkness. At this range, the Mikas could hardly miss. One, maybe two bolts, and you had a dead monster.

    They had plenty of time to aim. Kim was stealing the show.

    The black suit glittered in the moonlight, hidden crystals in the fabric bouncing the white and blue around the clearing in brilliant sequins of color. Her magician''s  wand spun and flashed, anointing the attacks of her comrades with fire. She lit up the whole damn clearing.

    I had wondered how a suit could increase the aggro range. Now I knew. I understood why the buffs generated more aggro too- you couldn¡¯t help seeing the little flame-sparks falling down onto Miyuki¡¯s bow or Rakim¡¯s gun. She was drawing aggro like a champ.

    Can¡¯t say it was just like I planned. I¡¯d happily settle for ¡®close.¡¯ Things got a little hairy for a moment, but ultimately, the monsters couldn¡¯t climb the smooth, vertical surface in the little time they had. Pomoroi was a damn surgeon with her cannon. At this range, her ¡®balls¡¯ left smeared murder baboons on the dirt. They were so densely clustered together, six dead were a minimum, and a dozen was average.

    Oh Great God Pachinko, please bless us with a cannon upgrade pack that includes grapeshot and canister. If you do, I will collect a thousand pebbles to throw down the staircase in your honor. Amen.

    The Blue Roses spun and danced, singing their wailing spell as Carousel chanted her own magic. The two sounds blending together and seeming to fog the air around them. Filling it with their own glittering, dreamlike filaments of magic.

    The narcotic cloud dulled the eyes of the monsters so completely, I could see it from my balcony. Their muscles slowly relaxed. Their eyelids lowered. They began dancing and jerking around, sometimes smashing into each other or tearing at each other to try and snap out of it. None of them managed it. Little sparkles of four-colored light began collecting on their fur like pollen. The debuffs from the Blue Roses turned sneaky monsters into garish monsters.

    The rest of my summons turned them into dead monsters. A noise yanked my attention to the other side of the battlefield. The main body of the force- the armored monsters and the ordinary kind, had arrived. And only Versai was there to stop them.

    ¡°Radz! Stop firing into the woods and focus fire on groups that reach the clearing! Aim for the biggest clumps first!¡±

    ¡°Radz raining death!¡±

    Slow! Too damned slow. Radz¡¯s rate of fire had improved with time, but my store-brand Wehrmacht mortar operator was still crushingly slow in the heat of combat.

    Fortunately, Versai was fast. Very fast. And thanks to the unnatural magic behind our bodies, she never got tired. Two days ago, she might be looking at this wave of monsters and expecting to meet her new boss shortly. Now? Now she just saw a target rich environment.

    Versai led with a straight downward chop on a drooling, fang sprouting face. The wide, too human hands came up, trying to block the sword or maybe grab her, but it was for nothing. The attack sped up mid swing. Versai was suddenly at the monster¡¯s chest, as the sword bit into its skull. She smashed her shield into its chest, knocking it back into the next monster, then a laser fast thrust found a gap in the limbs and an unguarded throat to tear open.

    It wasn¡¯t going exactly to plan, but the plan was working. My aces were in position, the various buffs and debuffs were taking effect, and the new Bastion was working fantastic.

    My chronic shortage of direct damage was still a problem, but the aggro drawing power of Kim stacked leathally well with Carousel¡¯s Final Revel. If I can¡¯t get more shots off in a minute, I would have to give my people more minutes to shoot. Slow them down, shoot them up. Version 6.

    Versai was falling back, as she should be. The monsters were piling into the track, armored variants mixed in with the ordinary monsters. Making nice big clumps for Radz to obliterate.

    There was an explosion next to the Bastion. I didn¡¯t see what happened, but something blew up enough that it sent roughly half a Murder baboon up high enough to knock out one of my stealth breaking lights.

    ¡°Damn!¡± They were consumables, and wouldn¡¯t have lasted for the whole battle regardless, but¡­ there were a hell of a lot of murder baboons on the field right now, and it was insane to expect Miyuki to kill them all. I needed those lights!

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to protect them somehow. Iron cages or something, I don¡¯t know.¡± My attention was wrenched back to Versai. She was falling back faster now, as the monsters were starting to crowd up the walls and claw at her from every angle. She could keep ahead of the attacks, but she didn¡¯t want to force them over the wall and let them get behind her. It was a tricky balance.

    I heard the wailing, eerie song of the Final Revel wind down. They could only keep it going for so long. How long until they could use it again? I couldn¡¯t remember. Longer than I would like, no doubt. ¡°Carousel, use Final Revel again as soon as you can!¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord!¡±

    The surviving monsters around the base of the Bastion were badly wounded by the spell. They must have been at the edges or come in late, as the rest were already reduced to piles of gore. Kim was keeping their attention nailed down, as the Mikas and the Pomorois were ripping through the masses. Miyuki was picking off monsters with authoritative ease, while Rakim was focused on sweeping the top of the Bastion. No monsters had made it up, and she aimed to keep it that way.

    Two more explosions went off next to the Bastion. Fire, and sprays of rotted meat went flying. Were there more explosive murder baboons in the mix? We had seen them in Gradden March. It would make an awful sort of sense to be seeing them here, now. Well, they didn¡¯t really change anything, except maybe for Versai. They were quite free to blow themselves up as much as they liked. Just so long as they did it far away from my troops.

    Hmm. Better warn her. ¡°VERSAI! MURDER BABOONS ARE AT THE BASTION, AND SOME OF THEM EXPLODE! DO NOT ENGAGE WITH THEM IF POSSIBLE!¡±

    ¡°YES, TOWER MASTER!¡±

    I kept my eyes moving. The detectors were starting to gutter a bit. They wouldn¡¯t last much longer. The murder-baboon horde looked like it was thinning out, but that¡¯s not really reassuring when you are dealing with stealth units. Nothing coming from the other direction, though, so that was good.

    When we got this breach under control, I¡¯d remind Miyuki to focus on the other side. It was really not ideal to have used the detection lights at the very start of the wave, but needs must.

    No idea what I would do for the next wave, but that¡¯s Future Me¡¯s problem.

    ¡°KIM!¡± I heard a scream and my head whipped back to the Bastion. Two of the baboons had made their way up and were on Kim. Clawing at her. Ripping her apart. The suit shredded into rags, then nothing. Rakim spun and let her rifle rip. The fireball was blinding in the night.

 Weeaboo Vol. 2 Chap. 6 Death Animation

    I locked up. I couldn¡¯t process what I was seeing. I knew I had to take charge, start giving orders, but I just¡­ couldn¡¯t. Kim. Kim got torn apart and blown up. A bunch of other people up on the Bastion got hurt too, but I couldn¡¯t process that right now. Kim. Was dead. Before the thought could completely run through my head, I heard a distinct sound, shattering glass and an almost metallic crack, as a vision forced its way into my head.

    It was Kim, surrounded by rising, almost liquid darkness. I was looking straight down on her. She looked desperately to either side as the darkness surged up around her. In the last fragmented second, she looked up at me and strained her pale white hand towards me. Then the darkness covered the terror on her face, and she was gone.

    I didn¡¯t see anything. Didn¡¯t hear anything. Not for a little while. Couldn¡¯t even think. Death animation. They gave the Awakened Souls a death animation.

    I was useless for a minute or two, but my summons were not. Carousel rushed over to the side of the Bastion and started firing down with her Glass Arrow spell. Miyuki had a slower rate of fire, but could pin two or more at once, if the angle was good. Rakim could only see the murder baboons at horribly close range, but she still ran around the edges of the Bastion, shooting at anything that dared to get close.

    They held it together long enough for Maria to heal herself, then heal everyone else. They held, killing the monsters as Kim¡¯s body dissolved in a spray of golden sparks.

    I don¡¯t know what it was that nudged me back into action. Something slid into place. I knew I had to stop them from dying. Me. I had to save them. Nobody else could. My summons could only follow their last order. If I wanted them to live, I had to be the one who leads them out. Grieve later. Fight now.

    ¡°Rache, Rikka, fall back! Rache, pick off Murder Baboons, but don¡¯t let yourself get slowed down and avoid the explosions! Rikka, back to the Bastion. Only kill murder baboons! Beware the explosions!¡±

    I stood on my balcony, the magic carrying my voice to my summons no matter how far they were. I could feel my grip sealing like ice around the scepter. Improves efficiency. Come on then! Kill faster! Faster!

    What else? Versai had turned into a one-woman roadblock inside the snaking murder track, and my dead-inside mortar woman was making full use of the opportunity. Radz was dropping mortars on alarmingly large clumps of monsters.

    My Pomorois were clearing out the area around the Bastion. They aimed quite low, which I didn¡¯t understand until I saw that heavy white light rolling along the ground. They were firing round shot cannon balls, even if they were made of light. They were targeting the murder baboons the detectors were revealing, but by aiming low, the rolling balls took out a lot of critters they couldn¡¯t see. What wasn¡¯t killed, was crippled. I didn¡¯t order them to do that. Was it some memory of the battlefield? They had shown flashes of that before.

    The Mika¡¯s were exactly where they were supposed to be- holding down the middle of the Redoubt and holding the line against anything that slipped past the fire net in and around the Bastion. Right now, it wasn¡¯t a ton, and Corporal Mika had her squad, and the situation, under control.

    Then armored monsters smashed through the breach opened on our flank by the murder baboons, and things were once again no longer under control.

    ¡°Carousel! Use Final Revel as soon as possible! Radz, focus fire on the breach with the armored monsters coming through it! Versai, keep falling back towards the Bastion.¡±

    We had built around using Kim¡¯s new AOE lure and Carousel¡¯s Final Revel combo. Without Kim pulling the monsters towards the Bastion, the monsters were able to work more intelligently. And with each wave, the monsters had already been doing just that. No, I did not like this one bit.

    The armored monsters were doing their usual bullet-sponge best, eating bolt after bolt. The upgrades meant my Mikas were getting through the armor eventually, but it was slow going. Which meant more of them were surviving long enough to make it near the Redoubt. The Mikas picked up their pace.

    The white bolts smashed down on the armored horrors. Rather than spreading out the damage, Corporal Mika decided to burn them down one at a time. Her technique was impressively nasty- she had her privates fire as a volley, aiming at the head or shoulder of a monster. One volley was enough to shatter the armor, but not necessarily enough to kill the monster. So a half second later, she fired her own bolt, finishing the beast.

    A neat little one-two combo. It worked, but the pause in between volleys meant that the monsters were closing fast. There just wasn¡¯t anything stopping them except the moat. It was bleakly funny watching them charge off the edge and see their little hand-like feet churn in the air for a moment. The first few monsters landed with a thud. A moment later, they started screaming.

    What the Hell? We didn¡¯t put spikes in there, or traps or anything. What just happened?

    The armored monsters were writhing on the bottom of the moat. Some with broken limbs, others with broken backs and necks. The bone armor! Of course it would weigh a lot. They aren¡¯t as heavy as the Wallbreakers, but they are still heavy.

    They couldn¡¯t hold up under the weight. Their own armor crushed them.

    ¡°Mikas! Let the armored ones fall into the moat, then kill them when they are wounded!¡±

    The situation around the Bastion was shifting. The surviving Awakened had finally run out of murder baboons to kill. That¡¯s always a good thing. Now they were turning around and firing backwards into the Armored monsters. The crossfire was doing a lovely job at chopping the monsters up a bit before they fell in the pit.

    Rikka and Rache made their way back. Rache was easy to spot, racing around and putting the finishing, decapitating, touch on the wounded she raced past. Rikka entered the scene by jumping on the back of a limping monster and stabbing it in the throat a dozen times in less than five seconds. The diamond shaped kunai slipped right between the bone plates protecting the fragile veins.

    Rikka appeared, and a monster died. Then she slipped back into camouflage again and vanished from the field. It felt fitting. Was there some way to team her up with Miyuki? To stack their abilities? It would make sense if characters from the same place had complementary abilities. Well. I think it would make sense. Who knows if the devs agree?

    Kim just died. Kim just died, and I immediately started thinking about building sets and finding combos. Kim had been part of a band, Call to Arms. There¡¯s a Banner special drawing opportunity if I ever saw one. ¡°Guaranteed Five Star Park in the first thirty pulls!¡±

    I could feel myself slipping again, trying to leave the reality of the situation. Dissociating. For some reason, I thought of Shinji hiding under the blankets and listening to his music on repeat. I leaned on the railing of the balcony, forcing myself to see and understand the battlefield.

    Versai was slowly falling back towards me, but of everyone on the battlefield, I was worried about her the least. That speed hack was brutal. From up here, I could see limbs flying off like they were getting airline miles on the company dime.

    The situation around the Bastion looked like it was coming under control. Carousel cast Final Revel, and mercy be, no murder baboons popped up. Looks like they had been cleared out, at least for now. There was something very satisfying about watching the monsters stumble around in a haze, slowly dying. I could relate, and for once, understanding did not breed sympathy.

    My scouts were doing their thing, my Mika¡¯s were doing their thing, my artillery was doing their thing. Absent another change, we would win this battle. I made some small adjustments, made sure to keep a couple monsters alive, and watched the slaughter grind to the end.

    I stood on the Bastion, right at the spot where Kim died. There was no body left. Versai said that was normal. You had a few long moments, or minutes if you were really unlucky, of horror and brutality, then you just¡­ shattered into light. She had seen it thousands of times. Maybe tens of thousands of times. I got the impression she really didn¡¯t know.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a good way to measure time, but there was one Tower Master who filled the stairs with logs and hid out in the Throne Room. I was the last one on my feet, and the monsters kept me alive until they were able to claw their way to him.¡± She looked sick, but shook it off. ¡°That¡¯s why I like Maria so much. She¡¯s kind of a crappy medic, but her suicide pill is unique, as far as I know.¡±

    She looked like it was the most normal thing in the world. Kim, the most upbeat, can-do team player out of all my summons just died, and Versai was acting like it didn¡¯t matter. Like she had just found out she missed a good cover band playing at a bar she didn¡¯t really like.

    I hated Versai a little bit for that. I hated myself more for not being able to do the same.

    ¡°How did they get up here?¡± I asked.

    ¡°The explosions were enough to crack the cement. Turns out those little baboon fingers don¡¯t need much of a gap to latch on to.¡± Carousel said, her voice soft. She hadn¡¯t known Kim, really, but Madame had always been good at reading people. It must have carried over to Carousel.

    I found myself fixating on little bits of Carousel¡¯s appearance. Not her new body, but her clothes. Up close, the dress had a few spots where the color was subtly different. An old stain, maybe, or someone had carefully re-dyed a spot. There was a cluster of small blue roses as a decoration on her hat band. I had thought they might be magically preserved flowers or something, but they were paper. Not even silk. Paper. And her shoes looked nice and that tall heel sure did wonders for her, but I have seen cheap costume pumps at enough conventions to spot them in the wild.

    The Devs had obliterated so much of whoever she had been. So much, but not everything. They left the mark of her sacrifices. One of the richest women in the city gave up everything she had in the entire world to fight monsters and give her people a chance at life. Every single thing she had earned over a long life, burned in a single night of defiance.

    The Devs had done the same for Kim. That one empty sleeve drawing an invisible line under a bright smile and ¡®fun¡¯ pinkish red hair.

    Was this world meant to be some kind of Valhalla for victims of the multiversal war on the Monsters? A chance for the greatest warriors to constantly fight and improve their skills? I didn¡¯t believe it. If it was, why wipe the memories of those below six stars?

    ¡°Versai? Did you say that there were buildings and improvements we can make in Gradden March that we can use for defending the Tower?¡±

    ¡°Yes, eventually. I don¡¯t know how, though.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Carousel smiled. ¡°They tend to be far down the building tree. We need to build buildings and gather resources in order to build the buildings and gather the resources we need to, and so on. But we can do it. Unfortunately, a lot of those resources cannot be made in Gradden March. We don¡¯t have iron mines, for one thing. Nor Mithril.¡±

    ¡°Realm War.¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± Versai nodded. ¡°Sometimes you just gotta go and take someone¡¯s stuff. Way of the world.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes we try trade!¡± I said, hearing the brittle brightness of my voice.

    ¡°Sure. Trade with who? So far, the only merchants I know of outside this tower are those fairies selling berries.¡± Versai rolled her shoulders. ¡°Scouts are going to be busy for a while, I¡¯d guess.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded. I looked down the side of the Bastion. The explosions had ripped up the cement around the base, exposing the rammed earth underneath. Cracks stretched over a lot of the rest. I wouldn¡¯t have thought most of them were big enough to fit a finger in. Seems I was wrong.

    ¡°Hey, Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Versai?¡± I kept my tone very level. I heard myself do it. Very even.

    ¡°You know she isn¡¯t really dead, right? Or no more dead than she was before you summoned her. Look- you have five Mikas and four Judiths. If you summon Kim again, she will be exactly like the first time you summoned her. Exactly like that.¡±

    How can I explain what I¡¯m feeling when even I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m feeling?

    ¡°I know. But I don¡¯t know it.¡± I tapped my chest. ¡°I promised myself I would get all of you out. All of you. And now someone died. Except they didn¡¯t. Except they did. And it was Kim.¡±

    ¡°Kim¡¯s good people.¡± Versai nodded. ¡°Always so cheerful and easy to be around. Definitely not a shirker in a fight either.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Yeah.¡± And how much of that was her personality being carefully pruned back, leaving a carefully engineered kawaii waifu for fans to obsess over? Was the real Kim an absolute nightmare for her assistant? Did she even have an assistant?

    I have heard awful things about K-Pop groups and idol groups in Japan. Maybe she was the one who was brutalized- that permanent smile begging the world not to hit her in the face.

    She already spent so much time in makeup. And she didn¡¯t dare be late for her performance.

    Some things were real. She really did defend the guests at that concert, I¡¯d bet. She really did wear that costume again and again in public. She didn¡¯t hide from her wound, or try to hide it from the world. Didn¡¯t even get a prosthetic. They weren¡¯t her trauma, they were proof of her service. Proof that the show goes on. She served her country in the Army. She kept right on serving them when she went into civilian life.

    Yeah. Brainwashed, mentally mutilated, trapped in a death game, and Kim was still good people.

    ¡°Versai? I don¡¯t care.¡±

    ¡°Pardon, Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°I. Don¡¯t. Care. I don¡¯t care that she wasn¡¯t ¡®real¡¯ in some sense. Or that a brand new version of her will pop out of the summoning pool one of these days. This Kim is the only one I know. It will be a new Kim, someone I don¡¯t know, the next time. The Kim I know died. And I didn¡¯t know her very well, and I¡¯m the one who put her where she was when she got killed and I¡¯m the one who made the plan that got her killed!¡±

    And I desperately wish it was anyone else responsible. I can¡¯t breathe, and I feel my lungs being crushed. I don¡¯t bleed, and I hear my blood hammering in my ears. Kim was dead. Kim was dead, and I¡¯m the one who killed her!

    ¡°Oh. It¡¯s hitting you now. More than it was, I mean.¡± Versai half smiled.

    ¡°What is?¡±

    ¡°Command. It¡¯s all on you now. Even the stuff that shouldn¡¯t be, like enemy action.¡±

    Or the Devs, and their evil ways.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Highest I ever rose in the ranks was a squad leader in the Queen¡¯s Own Lifeguards. After that, I made the transfer to bodyguard. I didn¡¯t want to be a squad leader. The squad leader before me got gutted, then I got told that was my job now.¡±

    I nodded. Versai had always made a point of not doing anything that remotely looked, sounded or smelled like exercising leadership.

    ¡°To even apply for the Bodyguard job, you have to fast for a month then undergo numerous battles while starved and hallucinating from the sacred mushrooms. One of those test-of-character things. I broke most of my bones doing it. And even with two broken legs and six broken ribs, I thought, ¡°Beats running a squad.¡±

    OKAY! That¡¯s a bit-

    ¡°Once, I had my guts torn open and the instructor forced me to drink some water. I could see my belly swell as it filled, then the water and bile leaked out through the holes and started burning my intestines and bare skin. Then he healed me up with a couple of potions, and we got back on the twenty mile ruck through the swamp. No regrets. Not one single regret.¡±

    What? No, really, what? Why? Why was she telling me this? Why did they do all this? It can¡¯t possibly be the best way to select recruits for anything but medical trials.

    ¡°The sheer, animal satisfaction of not having to organize a latrine every single day-¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m done. Versai, did you know your country is incredibly cursed? Like, even before the monsters?¡±

    She looked down her perfect nose at me. ¡°You do know that I earned a Third Order Discipline from my initiation, right? Most soldiers never even get a sniff of a First Order Discipline. There are- well there were, a load of crapsack countries out there where you would have to marry into nobility to get a Discipline, and a Third Tier discipline might be reserved for royalty.¡±

    I did not, in fact, know any of that. Also, she was nobility, so why cop an attitude? What I did know was that Kim was dead, and she wouldn¡¯t have died with more troops to protect her, and a more robust set of fortifications to stand behind.

    It was time to use the building exploit. With double the builders and a big pile of resources, I could do a hell of a lot better than this. Of course, the amount of resources was limited too. Barbed wire might have saved Kim¡¯s life, and I¡¯m pretty sure we still don¡¯t have any.

    ¡°Hey Carousel, can we export resources from the Sky Realm to the Tower?¡±

    ¡°Eventually, yes. It requires a great deal of development, but we can. Why?¡±

    It started clicking together. Farm construction resources in the Sky Realm, build up the Tower, strengthen my summons and use them as the backbone of my conquests in the Sky Realm battlefields as the territory provided the grunts. Slaughtering the monsters around the Tower. Slaughtering¡­ hopefully still the monsters up in the Sky Realm. Around and around and around. Washing blood away with blood. Until that day when I died or the Devs did.

    ¡°My Lord?¡±

    ¡°Just thinking, Carousel. Just thinking.¡± And wishing I could cry.

 Weeaboo Vol. 2 Chap. 7 People, and Monster, Management

    ¡°If Exploding Murder Baboons are going to be a regular part of our lives, and I have every reason to think they will¡­¡± My words drained off like piss into a sink.

    ¡°Tower Master?¡± Versai raised a politely concerned eyebrow.

    ¡°Sorry. Just processing the fact that Exploding Murder Baboons are now a regular part of my life. That¡¯s my day to day, now. Once upon a time, I dealt with rats in the subway. Sometimes, the rats were hauling pizza, because even rats know the City reigns supreme in the ¡®za department. Now it¡¯s Exploding Murder Baboons in my Tower.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have those where you are from?¡± Versai blinked her limpid blue eyes in polite interest. I don¡¯t actually know what ¡®limpid¡¯ means, but if anyone had ¡®em, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s Versai.

    ¡°New York has all kinds of amazing stuff. Art. Culture. Sandwiches as big as your head. Katz and Carnigie are massively overrated, but the sandwich point still stands. We even have our own Maid Cafes. But we do not have Exploding Murder Baboons.¡±

    I paused, and some remnant shred of honesty forced me to add- ¡°At least not in the wild. But those penthouses around Central Park? Dark things happen there. Things that good, honest folk don¡¯t even have the language to describe. They could very well have bred Exploding Murder Baboons for their¡­ hobbies.¡±

    She looked at me oddly. ¡°Penthouses? Like¡­ an outhouse or extra room on the side of a shack?¡±

    I looked at her twice as oddly, to display dominance. ¡°A penthouse is the apartment at the top of a tall apartment building. Very expensive.¡±

    ¡°No it isn¡¯t. It¡¯s a little room off to the side of a house where you can shove your halfwit cousin or something. Assuming you don¡¯t have a castle, obviously.¡±

    ¡°Oh yes, quite obvious.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°After all, not everyone has an oubliette.¡±

    Versai instantly looked nauseous. ¡°Don¡¯t even joke. We might be bloodthirsty on the battlefield, but that¡¯s just sick.¡±

    I raised an eyebrow. She continued. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you have never actually seen one?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°Good. Good.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I wish I hadn¡¯t. I had to duel a baron who had one. We only found out after he was dead. I only wish I had taken longer killing him.¡±

    ¡°And just like that, I don¡¯t want to know more details. Let¡¯s build a castle instead.¡±

    ¡°Fortress.¡± Versai corrected.

    ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡±

    ¡°A castle is a private residence.¡±

    ¡°So we are building a castle then.¡± I waved upwards at my still rough-looking Tower. ¡°My Tower, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but is it a residence? I mean, we don¡¯t eat or sleep or raise kids here. We do, however, fight all the time. So, fortress.¡± Versai was firm on this. I wanted to push back, because ¡®reside¡¯ didn¡¯t necessarily mean those other things, right? Also, I had a bed. I couldn¡¯t really use it for anything, but I did have it. But arguing about the definition of a castle with a person who grew up in a castle and worked in a castle for people that built, inherited and destroyed castles seemed like a losing proposition.

    ¡°Alright, it¡¯s an oubliette-free fortress. So we have effectively doubled our building team, but the monsters are starting to think outside the track. Thoughts?¡±

    Kim¡¯s white hand was reaching up out of the drowning blackness, she was reaching out to me, begging me to save her but I couldn¡¯t, I couldn¡¯t save her, I was the one who killed her, and I couldn¡¯t even stretch out my hand to her and save her from the dark waters that covered her mouth and face and poured into her lungs-

    ¡°Might be time to switch to a more conventional fortress design. You already have a start with the Rampart wall¡­ a name that we are going to have to change, incidentally, as I¡¯ll unscrew my own head before I go around calling it a ¡°Wall-wall,¡± and the ¡°Bastion¡± that is actually more like a tiny sub-fort.¡±

    ¡°Since when were you so picky with names?¡± It was out of character for her. Another development from the relationship system? I can banter. I can banter. I can pretend to be fine and keep my mind on the job.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always been particular about castles.¡± She sniffed, looking off to one side. It was cute. I found myself starting to smile, before the smile drained off my face. It was something from the relationship system. It wasn¡¯t on her character sheet, but that turn-away move was straight out of a gacha game cutscene.

    ¡°Alright. We need conventional fortifications. But we still don¡¯t have enough Awakened Souls to defend the whole wall if we surround the Tower with walls.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s normal, actually. Most castles or forts won¡¯t have remotely enough troops to defend every wall, and it would be a waste of manpower even if they did. After all, the enemy isn¡¯t attacking from every side all at once.¡± Versai shrugged.

    ¡°They might actually, in our case.¡± I said. The woods were very dark under the bone-white moon. ¡°One thing is for sure- the monsters have plenty of cannon fodder.¡±

    ¡°We should be so lucky.¡± Versai grimaced. ¡°Charging straight at the open door, it¡¯s dumb, but it¡¯s also highly effective. They are putting all their pressure on a single point. If we can¡¯t keep up for even a second, they can burst through and we¡¯re dead. But if they spread out, they have to cover a wider area while we defend a smaller one.¡±

    Versai crouched down and started drawing in the dirt. She drew a little circle in the middle, then a small arc on one end. She then drew a much, much bigger circle around both. ¡°In fact, we still only have to defend that one door. So our defensive perimeter is tiny, letting us jump one monster with many Awakened.¡±

    She tapped the little arc. ¡°Our biggest worries are that they will flank us and get into melee. Right now, I¡¯m the only melee fighter worth a damn. Rikka I don¡¯t really know well, but she seems built for ambushes, not holding a line.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. And she can make traps, apparently. I thought they would be little single-target things, since she worked as a vigilante. Maybe she can do more.¡±

    Versai shrugged. ¡°Maybe. Rakim can too.¡±

    Rakim was from some foreign Army Corps of Engineers. She could, indeed, make traps. They were just very expensive in terms of resources. On the other hand, since I just came into a lot of resources¡­

    ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll add that to the list. And we can¡¯t forget that the Tower has two doors, front and back. Right now, the back door has some guard towers around it and it¡¯s covered in¡­ what, a hundred cubic yards of dirt? It¡¯s an insane pile at this point. But I bet you the Devs wouldn¡¯t think twice about just vanishing all the dirt and going ¡°Look at the exciting new door we are giving you!¡±

    Versai snorted. ¡°Fair.¡±

    I nodded slowly. We still had a critical troop shortage, and it was worse now that we had lost Kim. On the other hand, we had three artillery, and if we could concentrate that fire, they would be utterly devastating. We could actually put down a really solid net of fire these days.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°Still need to slow them down and shoot them up. And we need way, WAY better ways to detect concealed units.¡±

    ¡°True.¡±

    ¡°How are we for blue magnesium?¡± I asked, with faint hope.

    ¡°We used most of it in the last wave.¡± Bye bye hope.

    ¡°So no new detectors.¡±

    ¡°Not unless Rikka knows a different way.¡±

    I snorted. She might just have some ideas about that.

    ¡°Any chance we can make some in Gradden March?¡± I grumbled. Of course we couldn¡¯t. Things wouldn¡¯t be that nice or fair.

    ¡°Of course we can.¡± Versai said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. ¡°Loads of drug labs and cut rate alchemists. If they can¡¯t make it now, we can hang a few until they figure it out.¡±

    ¡°Heh. I¡¯d love to go walk around the Floating Quarter. It just doesn¡¯t feel real looking at it through a mirror.¡±

    ¡°So why don¡¯t you?¡± Versai gave me a weird look. ¡°Don¡¯t your feet work?¡±

    ¡°So when you and Osain vanish back to Gradden March¡­¡±

    ¡°We are going through this door right here, yes.¡± Sebastian leaned against the frame, like he had the faintest goddamn idea any of this existed earlier today. We were on the floor below the Throne Room, where the door to the map room used to stand in solitary splendor. It now had a very fancy looking new neighbor shoved in next to it.

    The Map Room door was sturdy, dark, heavily varnished wood. The Sky Realm door was painted white with gold filigree over it. Because it was clearly a later addition to the game, and they wanted to make sure everyone appreciated the fancy new update.

    Did I get a notification about a new door opening? No, I did not. I looked out the window at the explosions of dirt and rubble criss-crossing my one orderly murder track. It was time for a major rebuild. We didn¡¯t have an infinite amount of time before the Devs started cracking down, but we did have a fairly long time. And if Rikka and Rakim were going to be making me traps, I had to see what resources I could get for them. Later would be too late. I went in.

    I very quickly regretted that decision.

    The smell. Oh God. The smell. I don¡¯t have words. I walked through Chinatown in August the day before trash day, and it still wasn¡¯t even a tenth this bad. The smell was apocalyptic.

    No, not apocalyptic. The reason for the apocalypse. The people would be begging, kneeling in the clinging muck, eyes stinging from the horrible acid-fumes, begging for that meteor to come and end all earthly suffering. I don¡¯t need to breathe and I was still choking, drowning in the miasma.

    ¡°SEWERS! SWEET CHRIST! WE HAVE TO BUILD SEWERS!¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about? There is a sewer, built back in my Grandfather¡¯s day. Look.¡± Sebastian pointed at a reeking trench flowing horribly slowly through the street. People would come and fling pots and buckets into the trench, doing their part to contribute to the cholera factory.

    The Floating Quarter had a nightmarish feel to it. The buildings were crammed together. The second stories would extend out over the street, making everything dark and claustrophobic. There were people everywhere, walking, working, yelling. Above all, they stank. The sheer, animal smell of it all. B.O. was universal, and also the least of it. Every fluid and solid a body could eject, they ejected, straight out onto the street or into the ditch.

    Three story tall houses, four at the tallest. They looked like they were made from wood and plaster. I knew they burned well. Didn¡¯t stop the locals from using torches and lanterns to light the place. Cobblestone streets. There was that, at least. I could work with that. My eyes kept getting pulled back to the river of excrement flowing through the middle of my Realm. It was unbearable.

    ¡°Sewers, and I will fight you on this if you disagree, are underground.¡±

    Sebastian smiled faintly. ¡°Technically, the River Rhedyn is below ground level. Grandfather dug the river bed and lowered it four feet along the length of it. But I do know the sorts of sewers you are talking about. They are on the list of possible developments. They take forty orders to complete, and cost five hundred thousand Skygold for the cheapest model. Apparently, there is a limit to how many houses a sewage system can support. Too many houses, and the sewer system starts applying penalties to health and morale, for some reason.¡±

    ¡°And where is this sewer on that rating?¡±

    ¡°No idea.¡± He shrugged an urbane shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s a Realm Lord question. I believe you can see all that in your magic mirror.¡±

    ¡°And I will check on that the instant I leave here, which is going to be almost immediately. We need blue magnesium for the stealth detectors, lime-but-not-the-fruit-lime, whatever that is, and a whole bunch of caltrops. Like¡­ just so many caltrops. Caltrops by the thousands. Who can supply this for us?¡±

    ¡°At the moment? We can have the blacksmiths turn out some caltrops with the remaining iron stocks. I doubt it will run to many thousands, or even a thousand, though I suppose caltrops are small and simple to make.¡± Sebastian¡¯s voice was utterly steady, and perhaps a hint amused. His elegant old self seemed to find the entire world quietly amusing.

    I¡¯d seen the rabid wolf inside him. None, not one member, of the Gradden family was a nice person. And Sebastian had been their spymaster and underworld king.

    We walked on a little bit. There were kids in here. Kids. I¡­ didn¡¯t know what to think. There were kids here. Kim had just been torn apart by monsters, technically I¡¯m still fighting a wave, and here we are. With the kids in a pocket dimension inside my tower.

    ¡°Lime is easy to make- you just burn limestone or sea shells. That gives you quicklime. Then you slake it with water to make lime.¡± He chuckled indulgently. ¡°We have some lime in our stores, but not a particularly large amount. And we have essentially no limestone reserves. Likewise, our magnesium supply is essentially nil, as we don¡¯t get much at the best of times. As for turning it blue, that requires a substantial amount of cyanide.¡±

    ¡°Cyanide? Can you manufacture cyanide?!¡± I had sudden visions of crop dusting the Monsters with poison powder, then frowned.

    ¡°Before you ask, yes, the monsters are immune to most non-magical poisons. It¡¯s been tried.¡± Sebastian could apparently read my face even when he was looking away from me. ¡°And calling it ¡®manufacturing¡¯ is somewhat overstating our abilities. We can create large quantities of it by burning coal in airless furnaces. It¡¯s quite tricky to manage, but the result is a very steady burning jet of gas that does work quite well on the monsters, when applied in quantity. It also creates giant pools of waste that are poisonous to us, but not the monsters.¡±

    ¡°Ah. That¡¯s no good.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± He sounded indulgent. I died a little inside. ¡°But from that poison, we can isolate and refine some cyanide. Not much is needed to create blue magnesium, but if we are mass-manufacturing it, we would require quite a lot of coal. Which¡­¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have.¡± I concluded.

    ¡°We do have some, but not nearly enough for major production. Frankly, we don¡¯t have enough to keep the industries we already have going for very long. I¡¯ve already ordered the ironmongers and smiths to keep their forges cold, and started rationing fuel.¡±

    ¡°That bad?¡±

    ¡°Worse. The markets produce something called ¡°rations,¡± which can keep a fixed number of people fed. They just turn up. However, rations increase the likelihood of sickness, reduce morale, and slow work efficiency. Real food is required. Would you care to guess if coal or firewood magically appears in the sheds of the locals?¡± Sebastian looked genuinely interested. The swine.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to guess no. Which means that they cant stay warm in their homes, which means that, between the sewer, the slum housing, the rations, the soon-to-arrive typhoid epidemic-¡±

    ¡°Oh, I am sorry, Realm Lord, I neglected to mention one vital point- we don¡¯t actually have enough markets to feed everyone in the slums. Although you will be relieved to know that we almost have enough wells to supply their drinking water. Good thing you invested in that upgrade.¡±

    ¡°Almost? ALMOST?!¡± I was shouting, not giving a damn what the local yokels thought of me. ¡°Sebastian, what in the nine Hells were the Graddens doing? You pricks are murderous, not incompetent!¡±

    ¡°We had a rather good series of fountains throughout the city, all fed by, and plumbed to, a bound water elemental. In a way, it¡¯s rather fortunate that we didn¡¯t didn¡¯t bother to install many of them in the Floating Quarter. Their connection would have been severed entirely, and the situation would be much worse.¡± He smiled kindly. Encouragingly. Not giving a hint of what was going on inside his head.

    I tried to breathe. Just¡­ let the instinctive act calm me. Try to get a good handle on my emotions again. It had been a completely cursed day. Just¡­

    Oh Hell. Oh fancy fish fornicating forestry. It¡¯s all the same day. It¡¯s all the damned Sixth day! Sebastian, despite all the knowledge jammed into his head by the Game, had just gotten out of the dungeon he had been trapped in for an unknowable length of time. He immediately watched a sort of symbolic reenactment of the battle that killed him (except this time with a good ending) and then got dragooned into a new job.

    He was being pissy. Deliberately pissy. He was absolutely screwing with me while doing his job, because he was messed up too.

    I slowly banged my head against the wall. Real people. They weren¡¯t complete people, but they were real. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. For several reasons.

    Would I look weak if I apologized? He worked for cracked-out feudal nobility. Apologies probably weren¡¯t a big feature of their work process. On the other hand, his last boss was the Marchioness, who famously wouldn¡¯t listen.

    I blew out a breath. I¡¯m too much of a coward to just ignore what I said and act like everything was fine. Sebastian definitely is the type to hold a grudge, and he was already figuring out how to work around the game rules. Would I run away if I could? God yes. But I can¡¯t. So. Here we go.

    ¡°I apologize. I shouldn¡¯t have shouted at you, and I shouldn¡¯t have called your family pricks. It¡¯s been a long day for all of us, and particularly you. This is all a lot to take in. Especially with the lives of your countrymen at stake.¡±

    I watched Kim die. I watched her die and I could do nothing. Nothing. I was useless, and I just stood up on my balcony and watched her die.

    There was a startled pause. I kept my eyes fixed on the cobblestones. What a pity I couldn¡¯t rip them up and hide for eternity.

    ¡°You know, I think that is the first sincere apology I have received from even a nominal employer since ap Gradden marched off. And the last time he apologized to me was when he made me miss a small birthday dinner I had planned with a rather charming acquaintance.¡±

    ¡°Must have been important.¡±

    ¡°Oh very. He wanted to show me his new destrier colt.¡±

    ¡°Destrier? I know a colt is a young horse.¡±

    ¡°A warhorse used by knights. Much larger and heavier than an ordinary horse. Not common in your Federal Democratic Republic?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Well. Apology accepted, and not much offense taken in the first place. It has been¡­ a remarkably long day. Incidentally, before you become too maudlin, I suggest you take a closer look at the people around you. As if I needed more reasons to be in a¡­ puckish mood.¡± Sebastian¡¯s voice had a touch of frost in it by the end there.

    I took a look at the people. They looked ordinary, for medieval fantasy with a grimdark edge to it. More GRR than JRR. I wasn¡¯t seeing it. I kept watching.

    ¡°Are those kids¡­ twins? Wait, triplets?¡±

    ¡°Look more closely at the adults. Try to imagine them without beards or pox marks.¡±

    I did. I was never good at this kind of thing but-

    It clicked. There were only five male models and four women models, and two kids models.

    ¡°NPC¡¯s. They are all NPC¡¯s.¡±

    ¡°NPC? They are homunculi or summoned  spirits of some sort. Roughly as aware as the imbecile creatures that infested my prison.¡± Sebastian agreed. ¡°Your labor force. We lack everything, and soon, we will lose even our serfs. Realm Lord, what shall we do?¡±

    I laughed. Bitterly, but I did laugh. I knew the answer before I saw this place.

    ¡°We carry on the noble traditions of Gradden March. We go kill some people and take their stuff. War, Sebastian. We will fuel our war machine with the blood of our enemies. Tomorrow, we hunt. The day after, we kill.¡±

 Weeaboo Vol. 2 Chap. 8 Improvise, Adapt, Beat The Enemy To Death With Money

    I got back before the sky got all ¡°Lovecraftian Apocalypse,¡± and took a quick look at the fortifications.

    ¡°Nice. Very Nice.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t ready to wrap the whole Tower in fortifications just yet, but we all knew the day was coming. My initial plan was a sort of wasp-waisted hourglass design- wide front wall with bastions jutting out at the corners giving us a good cross fire on anything attacking from the front or sides. Then tapering in sharply towards the middle, because- no doors to defend. So why build walls? Then, a rather unpleasant realization hit me. The Tower might not be indestructible.

    Oh, nobody had damaged it yet. But did that mean no one would ever damage it? No. And if you play stupid games, you will win stupid prizes. I speak as an authority on the subject.

    No, the best thing to do was not find out the hard way. Eventually, I¡¯d have to wrap the whole Tower in layers of fortifications, but I just didn¡¯t have enough people to even kind of defend it. I got what Versai was saying about the defender¡¯s advantage, but we really, REALLY didn¡¯t have the numbers to defend a few¡­ what, thousand? Linear feet of wall? Especially when you figure the Mikas fight in a tight block, and are basically immobile once their shields are set.

    So like everyone who appreciates a gentleman¡¯s C, I did half the work. The fortification covered the front half of the tower. I stuck another bastion at the far end, and called it a day. Sooner or later, I¡¯d find out if they really could break down the Tower. But until I could prevent them from climbing up the back and stabbing us to death, I¡¯d have to gamble on their obsession with the front door.

    Now, just to show that there were no hard feelings, I did transform the area in front of the Tower into an enormous hole. Then used the dirt to fill in and reinforce the area behind the Rampart. Which, including the packed in dirt, was now more than fifteen feet thick. You wanna blow yourself up? You got wallbreakers? Okay. That¡¯s just fine. You get right to work on that. Didn¡¯t fix the climbing problem, but¡­ one thing at a time.

    I did not, of course, neglect to create big clusters of hedgehogs to slow them down and clump them up. I had also made liberal use of the traps Rikka and Rakim could manufacture.

    It wasn¡¯t going to be a snakelike track any more. There were too many of them, and they were coming from too many directions. Worse, they were figuring out how to break through the walls. So we turned the whole clearing into a giant mess of barriers and boobie traps. When I got more troops or more building materials, I¡¯d change it up.

    One last thing to do, while I still had the chance. I picked up a reasonably flat bit of scrap wood and tried to carve it. Instantly trash, as expected. Well. I don¡¯t know how to write the characters anyway. Lucky that in English, it¡¯s all straight lines. Eight short slashes later, and I had what I needed.

    ¡°Kill the wounded. Let¡¯s wrap up the day.¡±

    I saw my scouts scurry into action, and turned away. Along one wall was a row of glowing dots, representing each perfect victory we had won. There wouldn¡¯t be one for today. Instead, I leaned the stick against the wall. Carved on it was just- ¡°Kim.¡±

    ¡°Fresh day, fresh set of orders. Let¡¯s get to it.¡± I said. Versai nodded amiably.

    ¡°Yep. Get any good loot?¡±

    ¡°No, actually.¡± I frowned. I really hadn¡¯t. A few trash resource packs and a stack of Stone Tapes was it. There was a small heap of Runed Bones, but at this stage, three hundred Runed Bones was an insult, not a joke.

    ¡°Huh. Shame. I guess the Perfect Victory bonuses really are that important.¡± She shrugged. ¡°So what¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°Scout, Scout, More Scout, Scout Again, and hold in reserve to see if action should be taken on what the scouts find.¡±

    She looked surprised for a moment, but then the gears started turning. The gears finally churned out a downright upsetting grin.

    ¡°No need to waste orders on making defenses. Or¡­ anything else, really. And all your orders for the Sky Realm will be enacted at the same time as your orders here. So you are going to hunt for the next target.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡± And since orders given from the Throne Room have a bonus to efficiency, I had high hopes.

    ¡°So what are you waiting for?¡±

    Valid point. ¡°RIKKA, RACHE¡­ is it just me or do we have an unreasonable number of people whose name starts with an R?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s an R?¡±

    ¡°Right, right. Everyone resting in the dorms who ought to be? Good. Anyhoo. RIKKA, RACHE, TAKE FOUR ORDERS TO EXPLORE AND RETURN TO THE TOWER!¡±

    ¡°Chromed Lighting!¡±

    ¡°I stalk the hills alone.¡±

    I was in no particular mood to drag things out. I suppose I should be working on another exploit, but nothing was really coming to me at the moment. I¡¯d give it time. Besides. Bugs that were too game breaking got patched. I did not want to be patched. I didn¡¯t want to have my account frozen or deleted. Stay low and grow. That would be my plan for now. Low and¡­

    ¡­

    I completely forgot about the flowers I had planted on the side of the Tower, didn¡¯t I? Goddamned Gacha games! A million systems to keep track of, all doing something, but who knows which of them are really important?

    Nothing for it. I went out to look at the flower bed. The little patch I had so carefully seeded had grown up into a riot of flowers. I¡¯m sure I had carefully spaced everything out. The flower seemed to ignore that. They had grown up wild and wooly, a riot of colors and shapes and twisting stems. Some were quite tiny, creeping along the borders, others gutted it out at knee height, others were as high as my head. A beautiful, swaying green bank of flowers, leaning up against my Tower. It looked like a mess. It looked wonderfully alive.

    It was now in the shadow of my extended wall. I¡¯d be more worried about that, but the forest made it hard to care.

    I might not know much about plants, but I¡¯m one hundred percent sure that the order system made a mockery out of the diurnal cycle. Needs eight hours of direct sun? How about six months of direct sun? In fact, how about dispensing with the notion of consistently passing time entirely? Despite all that, we were surrounded by an unthinkably massive old growth forest. Somehow. With not a hint of rain, ever.

    So. Yeah. Gonna assume an increase of shade time is not a major problem for my begonias.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    I looked at my flower patch again.

    Geraniums?

    I crouched down and poked a petal. It could be a geranium. I¡¯m confident that it¡¯s not a rose. I can definitely identify a rose. Maybe it¡¯s a zinnia? Or is that a girl¡¯s name? Boy¡¯s name? One of those Soviet Bloc names? Sounds a bit Soviet.

    ¡°Dasvidaniya Comrade Zinnia. How goes your endless twilight struggle with the West? Have they fixed the shoes with knives in them so they don¡¯t kill your arches? Or do you still need to smuggle in padded insoles from the decadent Americans?¡±

    The flower refused to give me any hits. It was a lovely pale blue, a little lighter than Priestess¡¯ dress. Err. The Priestess from Goblin Slayer. Lots of priestesses out there, when you get right down to it. Nagisa-Shiota¡¯s-hair blue. Whatever you call that color.

    ¡°Alright, I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m looking at. Anyone here good at identifying flowers?¡±

    Versai violently shook her head, as did Marci and a couple of underemployed-looking Judiths. Marci always looked like she was one unfiltered Lucky Strike away from running the waste management office in Hoboken, and the lack of nicotine was not enhancing her affection for humanity.

    The Judiths radiated their usual Blue Collar optimism, all tousled brown hair and well equipped tool belts. Doubtless that optimism was born from having access to the double-top-secret-members-only section of Home Depot, where only the really good contractors get to shop. They too did not appear to be flower experts.

    ¡°Nobody? Really nobody?¡±

    There weren¡¯t even crickets.

    ¡°Fantastic.¡± I looked again. No pop up explanation, no tooltips, nothing. But I¡¯m pretty sure they were found during a scouting expedition or something. They were, definitionally, an in-game item. So they should have stats and a function, right? They weren¡¯t a waste product like all the woodchips. Did the game treat them like they were a wall? An acceptable sort of manufactured product?

    My gamer senses were screaming at me. There was something here. Something I wasn¡¯t seeing or understanding. I just couldn¡¯t quite reach it.

    Hell with it. The flower with the blue petals was about the size of two fists stacked on top of each other. I grabbed a log and got to stabbing. It took a weirdly long time to stab out a pot. Lotta things to remove. But we got there. I dug up the plant, loaded the pot up with dirt, and brought it up to my balcony. Maybe something would happen.

    I lounged in my throne room. An indefinite period of time had passed, so I was expecting the scouts back any moment. Were there things I should be doing around the Tower? Probably. But that memorial plaque weighed on me. I didn¡¯t want to place any of my limited chips until I had all the information I could get.

    Could I learn to throw my knife? Have I tried that before? Memories get slippery after enough ¡®time¡¯ in the Tower. I tried gently tossing it at the notice board. It bounced off. Not because the notice board is magic, though it is. It bounced off because it hit the board hilt first. Hmm. Was there a trick to throwing knives? In a lot of games and manga, you need a special knife. I bet Sebastian would know. Didn¡¯t all his goons in his dungeon throw knives?

    Oh, I should pick up today¡¯s daily reward. Ten Resonance Crystals. Not enough for a new summons. Yippee anyway. Yippee.

    There were daily missions too. Cut down ten trees. Reward, five Runed Bones. Kill twenty five monsters. Reward, one hundred Runed Bones.

    All the entries were like that- pathetic jobs offering insulting rewards. If I was still at the stage where cutting trees was a challenge, I¡¯d be dead already. Was this an abandoned mechanic that just wasn¡¯t removed from the game? Had the difficulty been turned up after launch?

    I felt ennui press down on me.

    I had a look in the Gnome Store. I had a serious stack of Runed bones on hand already, so I could do some decent shopping. Oh, wasn¡¯t there that thing? It was pretty useful against invisible critters, right?

    ¡°The wicked see only their sin, while I see everything.¡± A chilling whisper came from the shadows.

    ¡°OH THANK GOD! I was going crazy with boredom. Where¡¯s Rache?¡±

    A drilled out muffler and a screaming whinny echoed up the Tower stairs, answering my question.

    ¡°Alright, Rache, Rikka, what did you find?¡±

    ¡°Here,¡± they chorused. I knew my map room had been updated.

    ¡°I found a den of beasts. Within such places are often treasures.¡± Rikka murmured. She checked an immaculate nail. ¡°And I do enjoy a good hunt.¡±

    Anyone else, I would have thought it was a cheesy line. In her case, I was absolutely certain she was purely referring to running an animal, human or otherwise, to its death. Still. Beast den. That¡¯s different. Maybe this was more like a classic dungeon raid than the relic sites? I yelled for Versai to come up.

    ¡°Beast den. Is this another thing where I lead an expedition to clear it out?¡±

    ¡°No, you send people. Send a pure combat team. I¡¯ve only been on two Beast Den clearings, and both were exterminations.¡±

    ¡°You or the beast?¡±

    ¡°Us.¡±

    Peachy. But then, she had almost always died by the third wave.

    ¡°Rache, did you find anything noteworthy?¡±

    The cowboy/biker aesthetic just wasn¡¯t doing it for me. Never had, really. Still, with her long frame and laconic air, I had a hard time imagining Rache any other way. Maybe some heroin-chic fashion model with a taste for slim black Italian suits. Not really my genre. I just wished I could get her some mirror aviators. The whole look would come together so much better with aviators.

    Wait. Wait just a goddamn minute. Could I possibly costume her as a genderbent Nicholas D. Wolfwood? No, that was a bridge too far. She wasn¡¯t right for that. Must be patient. The right chance would come.

    I mean, where would I even get the giant cross full of guns?

    ¡°Couple of things, Boss. Found a nice little hill that I reckon would do a treat for quarrying rock out of. Not too far from here either.¡±

    ¡°A resource gathering point, and it¡¯s stone? Praise Pachinko and his many tiny balls!¡±

    That got me an odd look from all my summons, but I ignored it. I am a person of faith, and am not ashamed to publicly praise a mighty God. Or Goddess, if things turned out really good.

    ¡°Uh, yeah Boss. Well, I also found a Ruin Site. Reckon it¡¯s worth a look.¡±

    That had me sitting up in my overstuffed throne! ¡°A ruin site?¡±

    ¡°Yessir.¡±

    ¡°Any idea what¡¯s in it?¡±

    ¡°Sorry boss.¡±

    I had a momentary glitch. I remember the street the dungeons were arranged around in Gradden March¡¯s floating quarter, but I have no recollection of walking there. We set up the expedition, I hit the launch button, and then we were there. I have no idea what it looked like from the outside.

    ¡°Rache, when you find a ruin site, what does it look like?¡±

    ¡°Boss?¡± She tilted her head to the side, cavalry hat perfectly fixed in place. She plainly didn¡¯t understand the question. Did¡­ did the scouts actually go anywhere when I sent them to explore? Or do they leave the render distance, a RNG runs, and then they return with the results plugged into a conversational matrix based on the rules of their personality? It would be, in a manner of speaking, more efficient.

    I glanced out a window at the passing clouds. If you watched them long enough, the cloud patterns looped. They sure as hell weren¡¯t being rendered in real time. But the dirt smelled real, and you could see the knots in the wood and smell the pine sap. You could smell the rancid, fecal stink of the monsters. It wasn¡¯t all pre-rendered or RNG.

    The canary yellow microfiber of my throne tickled my fingertips, seeming to run through my fingerprints like a needle along a record¡¯s grooves, playing out what was stamped on them since I was born.

    I looked at my hands. I could see that I had fingerprints, but for some reason, their shapes and whorls seemed insubstantial. Like they only existed in the moment I looked at them, and when I looked away, they weren¡¯t even memories. Like the name of a song who¡¯s tune you have forgotten. You only remembered there was a song you loved, long ago, at a time when you were happy.

    I summoned Marci and made inquiries. She was her usual helpful self. If I sent her and the Judiths, I could have ¡°some¡± cut stones in one order. I took a deep breath. ¡°Some¡± was better than ¡°None.¡±

    ¡°Does your crew have tools to polish stone?¡± I asked. She nodded in reply. ¡°How fine can you polish? Mirror finish?¡±

    ¡°I suppose. Mining and quarrying were always specialties of mine. Finishing the stone is some other trade.¡±

    I smiled. I¡¯m sure it was a nice smile. I don¡¯t know why everyone was giving me that look. I¡¯m very happy. It¡¯s a very nice smile. They just can''t appreciate it. Poor devils.

    ¡°Alright. Go get the stone. And after that, I have a little job for you guys.¡±

    ¡°After that is the seventh wave.¡± Versai objected.

    ¡°Yes. Or as I like to think of it, construction time.¡± I didn¡¯t look over at the plaque. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Tonight¡¯s battle will be very different.

    The quarry produced stones with the imaginative name of Bluestone. This was because the stone was gray. If you squinted and the light was right, it was a cool gray. If you were half blind on bathtub moonshine and hadn¡¯t seen right since you were kicked by a mule for the forty-third time, you could almost imagine it had a hint of blue.

    ¡°This rock is gray.¡± Judith smiled with good, wholesome energy. She didn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°It is gray. It is in no way blue.¡± I reasoned with Marci, who was being unreasonable.

    ¡°It¡¯s Bluestone,¡± she said.

    This is the obstinacy that keeps the proletariat oppressed. That rigid thinking, that licking obsession with dogma in the face of objective reality.

    ¡°But it isn¡¯t. It¡¯s gray.¡± I felt myself almost pleading. Wasn¡¯t it obvious? Wasn¡¯t it painfully clear that this rock was gray, not blue?¡±

    ¡°Whatever it is, we can¡¯t use it now. Night has come.¡± Versai waved away any issues of ontology with the crude pragmatism of the bourgeois. Devoid of any class solidarity she should be feeling with me, the one who controls the means of production. There was a faint stab of betrayal, but I couldn¡¯t dwell on it. It wasn¡¯t the time.

    ¡°Alright, out you get Versai. Post up on the wall and wait for the first bunch to break its teeth on our defenses.¡± I walked out onto the balcony. I should stride out. That seems like the kind of thing a man with a scepter, a throne and a balcony should do. I¡¯d practice later.

    ¡°Scouts! Get out there and start marking targets. Artillery, take down targets when they are marked. Rakim, Miyuki, your job is killing stealth units. Madame, Glass Arrow only until ordered. Blue Roses, keep her buffed. Versai, wait until we have a good number of Armored variants or Alphas out.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t forgotten that mini-boss. We hadn¡¯t seen a second one yet, but I flat out refused to believe there wouldn¡¯t be another. Or it would rain acidic blood, or some other disgusting trick.

    I snarled at the woods, daring the monsters to come. This time, I had done my shopping at the Gnome Store. After tonight, those Murder Baboons would be resting in pieces.

 Weeaboo Vol. 2 Chap. 9 The Seventh Wave Meets Gnomish Depravity

    One must never simp in games or life. The pay-pig is a figure of profound contempt, one of the few universal exceptions to the ban on kink shaming. And yet. For some reason. For some absolutely disgusting, universally reviled reason, people think it¡¯s okay to spend money on gacha games. Gacha games were invented in Japan. A place where whales are hunted and eaten. Something to think about. Wisdom keeps chasing these people, but somehow, despite all the blubber, they are faster.

    Me? I don¡¯t run for a goddamn thing. Which is why I decided that, since I was playing with the game¡¯s money, there was no real shame in relying on the cash shop to pass this wave. One must not be rigid in one¡¯s thinking, after all.

    Not like I had any IRL currency at the moment anyway.

    Plumes of smoke rose in the forest. I smiled unkindly at them. I have three artillery, and while two of them have much shorter range, it was still more than a kilometer. I had no real way to know how many monsters we were killing out in the forest, but given how many we were slaughtering with each shot when they finally reached our clearing, it wasn¡¯t a small number. Free kills- essentially no risk to my people. At least until they deployed units fast enough to keep up with the scouts.

    Focus focus. Keep burning them down out in the woods. Those smoke plumes were now spread out over an oppressively wide angle. Ninety degrees? More? Don¡¯t know, but assuming the monsters were traveling in a near-straight line through the woods towards my front door, a lot of them would be hitting the clearing from the sides. The old track model wouldn¡¯t hold up anymore. Not unless I could really seal off the whole area with high, unclimbable, unsmashable walls.

    I smiled. Kindly. I can¡¯t look unkind all the time.  I¡¯m sure it was a kind smile. Welcome to the minefield, monsters. We have all kinds of things waiting for you.

    Now, was I stacking the battlefield to funnel them straight down the middle? You bet. My much abused hedgehogs were much more densely clustered on either side of the clearing. Things could get in from the sides, if they really wanted, but it would be much, much easier to navigate all the pits, trenches and barricades in the middle. At least, I hoped it would look that way.

    ¡°Miyuki sees the snake hidden in the grass!¡± There was a heavy twang next to me, and a baboon was pinned to a tree on the edge of the clearing. I shot a glance back out towards the woods. The smoke plumes were still a good distance out.

    The nasty things were trying to bait us to focus on the war in the trees. They were switching up the timing and coming at us from the sides. Yeah, I¡¯m really not loving the improved AI here.

    ¡°Miyuki sees the snake hidden in the grass!¡± Another THUNK. I know perfectly well she isn¡¯t getting all of them. Her rate of fire is less than two shots a minute. Now, since she is posted up on the right hand side of the wall, and she¡¯s shooting to the right-

    ¡°Rakim! Eyes left! Keep the left side of the wall clear!¡± Rakim, unfortunately, couldn¡¯t spot Murder Baboons until they were practically on top of her- less than ten meters. Maybe more like six. Which, given that she was shooting a rifle, is horrible. On the other hand, since I had few summons that could see the Murder Baboons at all, I¡¯d take it.

    ¡°Carousel, by any chance can you see the stealth units?¡±

    ¡°Not really, My Lord. I can see them once they are damaged or struck by the Final Revel.¡±

    Damn. Well that doesn¡¯t help me at all. ¡°Glass Arrow at will.¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord.¡±

    Sebastian said she was in the Mage Corps for twenty years, but she only knows two spells? That can¡¯t be right, surely. It sounds like a soldier who only knows ¡°Stab¡± and ¡°Chop¡± but not ¡°Quick March¡± or ¡°Block.¡± Was that actually how Gradden March operated, or was this more developer shenanigans at work? And why the Hell did she need the Blue Roses to support her when she cast Final Revel?

    Miyuki nailed baboons as the artillery made its thunderous welcome. None of the big fellas had reached the clearing yet, but that fire was creeping closer and closer. I saw motion on the left, looked over, and started smiling. We had our first trap victim.

    I had a look at the baboon thrashing around in the little pit trap Rikka had made. The trap wasn¡¯t very big, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in pointy wooden stakes. Carousel made the monster¡¯s head lose a big chunk with a seemingly casual wave of her staff. One down.

    The traps didn¡¯t have to kill the enemy. They just had to make the enemy visible. Baboons were a one-to-two bolt problem for the Mikas. Less for Rakim if she has time to aim properly. And if they caught a full sized monster, armored or otherwise? Then we would have a monster with a limp. And a slow target meant more time to get shots on them.

    Slow them down, shoot them up. The eternal truth.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    There was a small explosion off on the left. Seems one of the baboons landed poorly in the pit. A howling scream came from the woods ahead of me. Trees were smashed to the side, knocked down, clawed apart. The armored monsters were here.

    My attention narrowed, and my vision tunneled in on the incoming band of monsters. There were six coming in from the woods. Heavy with bone armor, they didn¡¯t move as frantically as their unarmored variants. They galloped on their too-human hands and feet, their slower speed letting them maneuver more easily around the scattered barricades.

    ¡°They are staying clumped up,¡± I murmured. ¡°Good to know. Is it a pack thing, or are they all sharing the same pathfinding?¡± I couldn¡¯t think of an easy way to check that, and for the moment, I didn¡¯t really care.

    ¡°Steelheart Pomoroy, take out that clump!¡±

    ¡°By Imperial Decree!¡±

    It took a few seconds, but I had timed it pretty well. The monsters came charging through a gap in the barricades and were met with a cannonball made of light going the other way. Results- two dead, two badly injured, two untouched. I frowned.

    ¡°The gaps in the fences are too big. But we are running out of wood. Never thought I would say that, but we are.¡± There was a limit to the range my workers could harvest in, and each battle saw my hedgehogs, my spiky wooden barricades, getting damaged. We were in the middle of an insanely vast forest, and we were running out of wood.

    It might have to be more walls and trenches, but I was getting a real headache about how to slow the monster¡¯s advance while still being able to shoot them. There was no point in digging trenches if they just gave the monsters cover from my long range fire. I never thought having more artillery and a sniper would be a headache, but here we are.

    The two untouched armored monsters kept scrambling forward, leaving the wounded behind. A dozen more were coming out of the forest already, and I could see the trees shaking behind them. The main body of the wave was on us now.

    ¡°Pomoroy, Radz, change to targets within the clearing. Prioritize the largest groups, don¡¯t shoot at a group with less than four monsters in it!¡±

    ¡°Contact Left!¡± Rakim barked. Her rifle snapped a few shots off, but I couldn¡¯t see at what. Must be Murder Baboons right on top of her, then. If they weren¡¯t climbing the wall yet, they were in the dry moat.

    Time to pick up the pace on the slaughter. For once, I would pay to win.

    ¡°Activate the Mutilator 3K!¡±

    All along the base of the Rampart, entry priced gnomish weaponry came on line. They cost two thousand Runed Bones a piece, but they could kill Murder Baboons just fine.

    I¡¯m sure there is a perfectly wholesome reason the Gnomes chose to violate the Geneva conventions by developing lazer tripwire activated buzz saw launchers. I can¡¯t imagine what it was, but at the moment, I was prepared to ignore their unseemly motives in favor of Murder Baboon slaughter.

    There was a ripping chain of explosions going off in my moat. Looks like some of the explosive variety were clumped together, and when one went, they took a bunch of their friends with them. What a pity. What a goddamn shame.

    They were really pouring out of the trees now, coming by the score. My scattered barricades and pits were having the intended effect of slowing them down and clumping them up, but it didn¡¯t force them into a single narrow path. Rakim and Rikka¡¯s traps were taking their toll. Legs were breaking, paws were being pierced, and on one memorable occasion, a small incendiary went off, coating five unarmored monsters in sticky flames. Those monsters then ran into other monsters and the barricades, creating absolute chaos until Radz dropped a mortar on them.

    It was a grind. We were grinding them down. The gnomish horrors were keeping the Murder Baboons off our backs, literally, and the constant pits, traps and ditches were causing occasional wounds. A broken finger doesn¡¯t sound like much, but when you are a four hundred pound monster running on his hands, it¡¯s a real hindrance. The few that made it to the moat were handily mopped up by the Mikas.

    It was all going quite well. I didn¡¯t even have to order Carousel to start the Final Revel. Yep. Nice easy win.

    ¡°ON YOUR TOES PEOPLE, SOMETHING EXTRA NASTY IS COMING!¡± I searched the woods frantically, trying to spot the awful thing the Devs were doubtless cooking up.

    *DING* SPECIAL CHALLENGE- KILL THE MONSTER ALPHA.

    Wait, the same alpha? That¡­ couldn¡¯t be right, surely. We still had his head up over the door, applying a fear debuff on the monsters. Hell, I reckon it¡¯s a good piece of why the pits are so effective- they want to go slow.

    I still wasn¡¯t seeing anything too unexpected in the woods. No big swaying of trees, no sphincter clenching bellows of pure hate. What wasn¡¯t I seeing? I blinked, rethought that thought, and felt my blood freeze solid.

    ¡°RIKKA, MIYUKI, FIND AND KILL THE MURDER BABOON ALPHA! CAROUSEL! FINAL REVEL RIGHT GODDAMN NOW! VERSAI, PROTECT CAROUSEL!¡±

    I had temporarily abandoned the forward Bastion. The idea of forcing the monsters to spin around Carousel while they got mowed down by my direct damage summons was appealing, but after what happened to Kim? No way. The Bastion was just too isolated.

    Carousel was on the Rampart with her Blue Roses and a lot of support. Rakim was up there covering one flank, Miyuki had the other, and the Mikas were holding down the middle. And patrolling along the length of it was Versai. Ready to quite literally jump in where needed.

    She was needed.

    ¡°VERMIN!¡± Versai roared as she leapt over the crenelations and smashed into something below. Her glowing shield seemed to pull her forward, smashing into¡­ something. Something a hell of a lot bigger than a baboon.

    There was something in that shield strike, some hidden force that slapped the monstrous thing down hard. Versai landed on the thickly furred back, her sudden presence breaking up the camouflage. She whirled her blade over her head and stabbed down. Then again. She was shuffling, I noticed. A tiny step forward with each new stab. Versai quickly sped up past what my eyes could follow.

    You ever imagine a fifteen foot tall monkey being cut in half by a bandsaw operated by a stunningly beautiful woman? No? I salute your mental health. I wish I hadn¡¯t seen it. But I did.

    Well. Not all the way in half. Kind of like opening a book or something. The baboon was screaming in pain, the nerves flaring before the brain could really process the damage. I know that¡¯s what happened, because it tried to roll over and crush Versai. Its ribs were sawed off the spine at the top and it just¡­ rolled over¡­

    Never thought I¡¯d order a mercy killing for a monster, but Miyuki burying an arrow in that thing¡¯s ear absolutely was. Versai¡­ well. I¡¯d need to talk to her. Guess I¡¯ll find out if the game will let me.

    The rest of the wave got handled tidily. Well, no, that¡¯s a lie, it got handled like baboons being fed into automated gnomish circular saw launchers. It was anything but tidy. It was preschoolers getting into the glitter bin at the glue factory levels of mess. Torn apart bodies were stacked one on top of the other, entrails festooned on broken legs and twisted neck. But there were no more surprises.

    Carousel with Final Revel up and running is a menace. The cooldown is uncomfortably long, but for mopping up mid to late wave heavy clusters? It¡¯s fantastic. Watching the monsters slowly shuffling slowly through the path of the saw blades was horrific, but oddly vindicating. Like somehow, all the pain and horror we suffered in Gradden March was worth it.

    ¡°Reporting to the Lord, the only monsters that remain are prisoners.¡± Rikka was doing the one knee kneel with a single fist pressed against the ground and the other fist against her hip as she reported. I firmly controlled the high pitched whine of pleasure that tried to escape. A ten-out-of-ten classic pose for a ninja. This wasn¡¯t the moment. I nodded and accepted her report.

    ¡°Marci! Take your building team out. It¡¯s going to be a long night.¡±

 Weeaboo Vol. 2 Chap. 10- They Love Me At This Store!

    Alliana looked annoyingly comfortable standing in my Throne Room. Her little cart was apparently magic, and had no problem shrinking to fit up the stairs. I had Versai and Rakim with me, just in case. Alliana looked like she couldn¡¯t have cared less. Which was also annoying. I forgave her. Anyone coming with information will find me a gracious and understanding host.

    ¡°I tallied it up. Across seven waves, I¡¯ve collected twenty Cutthroat Clothier receipts.¡± Half of which came from my perfect clear at Gradden March, but no need to mention that. ¡°I can actually use four of them. Pammy, Miyuki, Rakim and, of all people, Judith.¡±

    ¡°Impressive! Both in total number of receipts and the number of summons who can actually use my wares.¡± Alliana smiled easily. I knew a retail smile when I saw one. It kind of made me wonder if she was wearing a store uniform too.

    Alliana looked¡­ Bandit Queen Aesthetic? Is that a thing? I realize I¡¯m something of an authority on the topic, but I really am drawing a blank here. Her curly black hair was controlled by a red headscarf, pulled tight and knotted into a pair of flowing silk twintails that reached down between her shoulder blades.

    Her hair reached almost to the small of her back. Wonderfully conditioned and, I believe, oiled. Delightful bounce to those curls. Just a fantastic commitment to a hair care regime. Traits I one-hundred-percent associate with mountain bandits.

    And in the same vein, the rest of her outfit said ¡°I¡¯m a rugged warrior with a crippling allergy to clothing that covers anything below my rib cage and above my hips.¡± Lots of red silk and hand tooled, ornate leather boots. A wide saber hung at her hip, jutting up through a blue sash with a golden chain woven into it.

    The sash was around her hips and not her waist. Some pedantic part of me insisted that it couldn¡¯t possibly work, but she was standing in front of me and you know what?

    The look worked. It one hundred percent worked. The lively figure and flashing green eyes in that ensemble? You love to see it. But a bandit queen turned itinerant merchant who traveled wearing all that?

    ¡°Does it get cold in the mountains?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes, bitterly. If you are planning on entering a relic site that¡¯s at high altitude, I have some gear you will definitely want.¡± She reached into her cart and pulled out a fur trimmed bolero jacket. I could see the Mikas looking absolutely darling in that. My urge to play dress-up flared, but I forced it under control.

    ¡°Not at the moment, thank you. Clothes and information, you say?¡±

    ¡°Yes indeed! You see, the terms of my charter do not allow me to accept Rune Bones or even Frozen Crystals. Barring very special occasions, anyway. I can only accept our store¡¯s receipts and-¡± she made a sound that was lost somewhere between my eardrum and whatever part of my brain processes language. I violently shook my head.

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you don¡¯t have any of those.¡± Her lip quirked. ¡°You can always tell.¡±

    ¡°What exactly did you just say?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. If, one day, you find some strange currency in your money pouch, summon me. I, happily, accept them for both clothing and secrets.¡±

    ¡°Alright¡­ well. Let''s get started with the orders we can fill. Here are the receipts.¡± I handed them over. She handed me back four cards with pictures of the outfits on them, as well as flavor text. I¡¯d read them later.

    ¡°How do you sell your secrets?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh, easy. I offer a variety of services at easy prices. Want to have more of your map filled in? For a reasonable fee, I can provide information on local landmarks. Have a question about a specific landmark? More expensive, but still well within the budget of most. Broader questions, things that might be considered¡­ unnatural or sinister to know? Now that is quite expensive. Expect to save up a while first.¡±

    She laughed. There was a coarse charm to it. Great work by the VA or the mixing department there. If that was her actual laugh, then all I can say is that there is no justice in the world when someone¡¯s laugh has its own charisma modifier.

    ¡°And you get paid¡­ how? If you can¡¯t take Runed Bones or Frozen Crystals, and I don¡¯t have any of the whatever currency you mentioned.¡± I narrowed my eyes slightly. She was clearly a six-star equivalent like Sebastian, and like Sebastian, she was being blatant about picking at the nature of this world. Was she running her own exploit here?

    ¡°Ah, another happy intersection of your surplus and my demand.¡± She smiled. Perfect teeth. No ¡°cute¡± snaggletooth or any of that nonsense. Just a smile that would have a toothpaste ad team high fiving. ¡°You seem to have sixteen additional receipts that you haven¡¯t cashed in.¡±

    I nodded.

    ¡°Because, as you implied, you cannot use them right now.¡±

    ¡°Yep. Don¡¯t have these summons.¡±

    Her smile got a hair more genuine. I smiled too. I recognized the look on her face. It¡¯s the same I saw when some Crypto Bro figured out that I was a viable ¡°investor.¡±

    ¡°Well, since those receipts are useless to you, you might as well turn them into something of military and developmental value. Information on nearby ruin sites, for example. Or mines. You just conquered your first bit of your Sky Realm, right? For a fee, I can provide some very useful tips. As for more¡­ esoteric and occult information, let¡¯s reserve that conversation for when you have more disposable income, mmm?¡±

    I chuckled. Oh that game. Sure. I love that game. People like her are why I stay indoors and try to do all my business by email. Or messenger. Or have an AI write the email or IM. And answer it.

    ¡°Tell me about the costumes.¡± I leaned back on my plush throne.

    ¡°All the relevant information is on the package.¡± she waved elegant fingers elegantly at the cards she handed me. Presumably this was because she was a Bandit Queen and not a Bandit Peasant.

    ¡°No, not that. I mean, how do you get the clothes? They are all tied to the specific histories of the summons, right? So you don¡¯t have a sweatshop somewhere cranking them out.¡±

    ¡°Well, things like the cold weather gear are actually produced in a factory I control, but that requires the special currency to purchase. As for the stuff you can acquire with receipts? Yes. We have methods. Proprietary methods. Contractors of extreme skill undertake dangerous and lengthy missions to acquire them. None of this comes cheaply, as you might imagine.¡±

    ¡°You are mining clothes.¡±

    She rolled her eyes, and the rest of her head tossed with them. Hand on hip, shift weight to one leg, yep, there we go, Look of Exasperation #4, straight from the modeling guide. I really wonder how much of this was her and how much of it was the game.

    ¡°If you want to abuse a metaphor.¡±

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    ¡°So how do the receipts get distributed? I¡¯m getting them as a reward for various achievements.¡±

    ¡°Not my department.¡±

    ¡°Do you pay the contractors and for the factory?¡±

    She snorted. ¡°Through the nose. Why do you think I value-¡± more unintelligible noise ¡°so highly? It¡¯s how I pay my people.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense, makes sense. Say, how many of these receipts are there? How often are new ones made?¡±

    ¡°No idea. I get my instructions, my contractors get theirs, my clients get their clothes. Easy as that.¡±

    I stared at her. She stared back. I sighed and rubbed my temples.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have any background in business or accounting, huh?¡±

    ¡°I ran a gang of over five hundred bandits, so I do have some management experience. Oh, and I currently employ six thousand people directly, and eight hundred more on a contract basis. Sorry, you were talking?¡± She smiled, ¡°warmly.¡±

    I nodded. The intimidation factor of dealing with beautiful, confident women had dropped severely after daily exposure to Versai, and now Carousel.

    ¡°I was talking, and I wasn¡¯t done yet. Receipts. That¡¯s what I get. Receipts. Which means that someone has paid for the costumes, and this is the record of the sale. It¡¯s proof of a debt, because the clothes haven¡¯t been delivered yet. A liability on your balance sheet.¡±

    It was my turn to smile ¡°warmly,¡± and I followed it up by leaning forward. ¡°In other words, someone, your boss I would assume, is sticking you with the production costs for the costumes while listing the profit from the sale on their own balance sheet. Your unnamed boss is issuing debts in your name and pocketing the cash!¡± My smile turned morbid. ¡°Functionally, anyway. I¡¯m guessing you work on commission with no base salary?¡±

    She had turned very pale. I could see the new ideas working their way in. Like Sebastian- she had started picking at the edges of the game, but there were still mental blocks there.

    ¡°No, actually. I have a body that doesn''t need to eat or sleep, so I just put all the profits towards¡­ paying down¡­ my debts¡­¡± I could see her voice trailing off.

    ¡°And, regrettably, you don¡¯t have a copy of the ledger with your debts recorded, but don¡¯t worry, your godly employer is totally keeping strict track of all your work, subtracting only those minor, incidental expenses that come up as a cost of doing business?¡±

    Alliana went silent. And a while longer. Then- ¡°You know, I hadn¡¯t thought about my early days in a very long time. Early days as a bandit I mean.¡±

    I waited. I could see the gears turning in her head. They were spinning quite fast. Had some thoughts been suppressed? I wouldn¡¯t be surprised.

    ¡°My older sister got sold to a brothel when our harvest failed. We didn¡¯t have enough money to feed ourselves, let alone pay the field rent. It was the only way. Apparently. I asked around, why didn¡¯t the girls just run away from the brothel? Well, the girls could run, but their families couldn¡¯t. Besides, the girls could buy themselves out¡­ if they earned enough to repay the debt plus interest. But nothing was free in the brothel. Not the rent on their rooms, their clothes, their meals, medicine, nothing. They didn¡¯t get to set the price for their services or buy stuff outside the brothel either. In fact, it was strictly against the rules to hand the girls any money directly. You could get banned for that, and the girls got beaten.¡±

    I nodded slightly.

    ¡°I watched the sky that summer. Not much rain. And dad had a terrible look in his eye when he looked at me. I didn¡¯t wait, and ran for the hills. Eventually, I came back for them all.¡± Her voice was calm, almost flat.

    ¡°Did you get your sister out?¡±

    Alliana was quiet for a moment. ¡°I raised a gravestone for her, and carved her memorial tablet with my own lousy handwriting.¡±

    I closed my eyes. I¡¯m not comfortable with that much raw emotion. What do you even say? I¡¯m sorry that happened to you? There are many such cases? She¡¯s in a better place now?

    ¡°I see what you are getting at, Tower Lord. I see it¡­ very clearly now. Very clearly indeed. You want to forge an alliance?¡±

    ¡°A bit fancier than what I had in mind, but basically. I wanted to find more people trying to break out of the trap we are all in.¡±

    ¡°Oh? You aren¡¯t enchanted by being a Lord? Surrounded by beautiful, biddable- alright, yes, I¡¯ll stop, please stop looking at me like that. I am still capable of feeling shame, you know.¡±

    ¡°So you say!¡± I snorted. But relented. After all, that was how Black Hood hooked me in the first place.

    ¡°You are buying back tangible debt for something you can sell infinitely- information. Your only limit is the size of your pool of customers. Goddamn NFT selling¡­ Never mind that.¡± I waved it away. ¡°Do you understand me? You can try to screw every drop of advantage out of me, or you can treat this like a joint venture. Your call.¡±

    She smiled and made a little half bow. ¡°I can only salute your wisdom and foresight. A joint venture it is.¡± We smiled at each other. Each concealing our knives.

    ¡°This World, the land with your tower in it, can be considered a sort of magical demi-plane, who¡¯s fundamental reality confirms not to natural law, but to the whims of its creator.¡±

    ¡°No. Really. What an amazing surprise. I am very shocked to learn this very shocking information.¡± I monotoned.

    ¡°Really? You already knew?¡±

    ¡°The fact that you have met others that didn¡¯t know saddens and horrifies me. It also makes me really wonder where they came from.¡±

    Alliana stroked her chin as she considered that. ¡°You know, people¡¯s homelands almost never come up. Strange, that.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Equally shocking. Get on with it.¡±

    She snorted and gave me a look, but continued. ¡°And if you have talked to your six stars here, you know it¡¯s not a unique place. There are other Towers, and other Tower Masters. Even I don¡¯t know how many. Thousands. Tens of thousands. More.¡±

    Now that really was alarming.

    ¡°And for those few of us who travel between the demi-planes, we need roads and maps. The maps we make ourselves, and are quite unique. Useless for you, but it does provide us with¡­ perspective. Incidentally, did you manage to acquire any road building materials when you conquered whatever ruin site you snatched?¡±

    ¡°Yes, why?¡±

    ¡°Use them. Make roads to any mines or ruin sites you are raiding. Not only will they save your summons time, they also fulfill a hidden purpose.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Yes, the better developed the road network, by which I mean the better connected the points of interest in your land are to each other by road, the better the rewards become. More importantly, you get to start drawing on a much bigger pool of summons.¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡±

    She leaned forward. No generous cleavage was displayed, she was well covered up top, but it was certainly implied.

    ¡°Roads. Connections. I can¡¯t prove it, but I have seen enough evidence to believe it is true. You have noticed, I think, that some summons share a country of origin? Or at least, a world of origin?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Rikka and Miyuki, Pammy and Maria.¡± I nodded, ignoring the duplicates like Mika and Judith.

    ¡°Just so.¡± She gathered herself for a moment. ¡°Every new Tower Lord, so far as I am aware, begins with one Six Star Awakened Soul, and between six and ten random other Awakened Souls.¡±

    Mmm. I vaguely remember Versai saying that most people didn¡¯t start with ten summons, so that checked out. I nodded along as she kept on explaining.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think the summoning pool is really random. At least, not completely.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± My eyebrows made a bid to climb all the way to my hairline. ¡°Why do you say that?¡±

    ¡°Because based on my discussions with other Tower Lords, the first Relic Site conquered is overwhelmingly related to their first Six Stars.¡±

    That brought the room to a screeching halt. Because I remembered clearly that Versai had been to a lot of Relic Sites, and none of them had been related to her home country, or home planet for that matter.

    ¡°How many people have you asked?¡± I hung on to my emotions firmly. I didn¡¯t know how to exploit this, but¡­ ah. Immediate chicken and egg problem detected.

    ¡°Thousands. I¡¯ve forgotten how many, long ago.¡±

    Mmm. And Versai was always vague about how many Tower Masters she worked for. Other than it being an unspeakably large number, I really didn¡¯t know how long she served. I suppressed a humorless grin. Cutthroat Clothiers were only made available after your first conquest. So all the successful conquests Alliana knew about required a matching six-star. Which, when combined with Tower Master incompetence, explained a lot.

    ¡°What if it¡¯s the other way around? The plaine is generated, and the proximity of a given Relic Site determines that first Six Star pull, then other Sites weigh the probability of certain pulls?¡± I asked, wanting to test my theory a bit.

    ¡°I¡¯m really not sure, and I don¡¯t know that there is any way to determine which is which. Are the portals to the Relic sites plonked down when we aren¡¯t looking? Or are they always there, waiting for your discovery?¡± She shrugged. ¡°Either way, you have to take the summons you have as a clue. And I happened to notice you have two rather special Awakened Souls here.¡±

    ¡°Which?¡±

    ¡°The two raven-haired beauties- Miyuki and Rikka.¡± She twirled a finger in her own glistening black locks. ¡°They come from Hidden Moon Mountain.¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°So Hidden Moon Mountain is¡­ unusual. One receipt.¡± She held out her hand.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I am what, and who, I am. The information about summoning and Relic Sites is beyond anyone¡¯s ability to prove, and it¡¯s considerably difficult to make use of. In other words, a perfect welcome gift! But Hidden Moon Mountain is very unusual, and with two different summons from there, one of them quite highly ranked at Four Stars, I suspect you will discover its relic site soon.¡±

    ¡°Wait, how do you know about it? Do sites repeat? Are there multiple copies of each land attached to a relic site floating around?¡± I had the sudden terrifying image of hundreds of thousands of Crusher Jim¡¯s, all swinging their heavy fists at the same time, each shuddering the fabric of reality.

    ¡°Interesting you should ask- yes and no. Relic sites are not easily conquered, and many are deliberately left unconquered, so that they may be repeatedly pillaged for resources. They do exist on multiple planes, but once one has been conquered, I stop seeing Awakened Souls related to them elsewhere. Ever again. Even after that Tower Master has perished.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ how do you know they have died?¡±

    ¡°Because they stop summoning me, and if they want to really advance their Six Stars, they will need me. You will too. I just don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±

    Oof. Now there was a phrase I recognized. How often had Versai said that to me? But for her it was gated behind the relationship system. For Alliana, I¡¯d bet it was tied to progression. Well, sooner or later I¡¯d figure it out.

    ¡­ I also needed to figure out how to advance my relationship with Versai. Which sounded unpleasantly sticky, given that I only wanted to advance it to ¡°Able to watch at least two episodes of Nagatoro with her.¡± Not the problem right now. I could feel my stomach dropping through my feet. I¡¯m sure I looked as sick as I felt.

    ¡°You said there are tens or hundreds of thousands of other Tower Masters?¡±

    ¡°Yes. And yes, what that suggests about the size of the pool of possible summons is frustrating.¡± She grimaced.

    ¡°No. It¡¯s what it says about the number of worlds exterminated by monsters that¡¯s scary.¡±

 Weeaboo Vol. 2 Chap. Chap. 11 A Long Awaited Dress Up Party

    I leaned back on my throne, fingers steepled, eyes narrowed in thought. It¡¯s a recliner, so the action was smooth and comfortable, if lacking in regal grandeur. My mind was circling things and drawing red lines on my internal conspiracy theorist wall.

    It started with the number of summons. I had no idea how many there were in total, but I¡¯d been getting costumes for loads and loads of characters. This suggested a very large pool of characters. On the other hand, I had drawn five Mikas, two Judiths, and two Pomorois. This would tend to suggest a fairly small pool of summons.

    This game has been running for a long time. Hell, Day One there was that flier celebrating more than half a millennium of operation. Old games accumulate content.

    Granblue Fantasy, across all the games on all the platforms, had north of six hundred characters. Arknights? Between three twenty and three forty, depending on where you lived. Nikke has one hundred and thirty one jiggle physics enriched androids, while Fate Grand Order has north of four hundred servants at your disposal.

    So after more than five hundred years? I should be drowning in summons. Dupes should be incredibly rare. But my roster suggested I was drawing from a pretty limited pool. I had an image of these slab-like fake worlds suspended in a vast void, with little fragments of worlds connected by thin threads to several of them.

    I imagined some vast malicious being forming demiplanes and stretching the connecting threads through the void. Once that world fragment had been conquered by one of the demiplanes and added to their sky realm? Well. Too bad for the other connected demiplanes. No resources and summons for you. GLHF with your next life, if you get one.

    In a universe controlled by necromancers, betting on the afterlife seemed unwise. Each relic site is therefore incredibly precious. And while I can imagine the benefits from farming the same instance dungeons over and over, I¡¯d say the big prize at the end easily outweighed the incidental benefits. The real issue was that if I died, my summons from that world wouldn¡¯t just die temporarily. It would be forever.

    I jolted, then whipped around to look at Versai. On the one hand, she wasn¡¯t from the Floating Quarter. On the other hand, that was a piece of her hometown. And Carousel was definitely included in the Floating Quarter. If I died, they wouldn¡¯t respawn to work for someone else.

    I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I wanted to break them out of this endless cycle. And look- I have already started that process. Ready to get that cycle of success going.

    ¡°Tower Master?¡± Versai asked. Alliana looked concerned too. I guess it had been a longer pause than I thought.

    ¡°Doing some thinking. Not sure how the pieces fit together yet- not even sure if I¡¯ve found a bit of the edge. Worst of all, I¡¯ve never really liked jigsaw puzzles.¡± I shook my head, throwing away the metaphor and focusing on problems I can actually do something about.

    ¡°You said that I need costumes from you to max out the usefulness of my Six Stars?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but I don¡¯t want to talk about it. Maybe you should look at the lower tier costumes I have already delivered. And while it¡¯s not related, let me just reiterate that I know some things about Hidden Moon Mountain that you will really benefit from knowing. One useless receipt is practically a loss-leader here.¡±

    A loss leader on information she acquired for free and cannot exploit herself. Mmhmm. Followed up with-

    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯d triple the price if I didn¡¯t like you. Besides, I agree- I think we should be in this for the long haul.¡±

    There we go. Multiversal collapse be damned, hustlers gonna hustle. God, it was like being back home. I was ¡®profoundly moved¡¯ when one of my clients, who clearly overestimated how much I was actually worth, offered to manage my money for Two and Twenty instead of the ¡°industry standard Three and Thirty.¡± And people wonder why I use chatbots for customer service.

    I pulled out the outfit pack for Miyuki and suddenly needed a moment alone. It was, and I mean this respectfully, HNNNNNGGGGGG! She was already an elegant ninja sniper. This outfit? This outfit took her straight to kunoichi from an early nineties ecchi manga.

    Nothing explicit, you understand. Nothing vulgar. But her coarse cotton clothes had become fishnet leggings and arm sleeves underneath form fitting but rough textured black silk trousers and an armless vest. She had a face mask, obviously, in more coarse black silk, with a black bandana and the classic tabi and sandals combo. On the back of the vest was a gloriously intricate picture of a diving hawk picked out in crimson thread. Notice I didn¡¯t mention the shirt. That¡¯s because there was no shirt. Under the vest were hints of the legendary chest bandages¡­ and nothing else.

    Superb. Simply superb. A real genre classic. For the true nineties aesthetic they would have to make her more top heavy than Barbie but fortunately the designer knew when to stop. There was a little netsuke hanging off her waist in the picture. It looked¡­ rather like a Jizo. Which is interesting, given everything. It had to be a coincidence, right?

    Right?

    WHISTLING DEATH MIYUKI

    A unique costume produced by Cutthroat Clothiers. This outfit was carefully crafted with the finest materials to maximize the austere elegance and refined lethality of Miyuki, the finest archer on Hidden Moon Mountain. It contains numerous secrets. Not only is the subtle Heron and Pike netting charming, it also acts as a shock absorbing material, allowing Miyuki to fire her bow even more powerfully, without risking injury to her forearms. Similarly, the Hawk of Woe provides a subtle, but powerful, refinement to her already superb arrows.

    Whistling Arrows are utterly silent until they pierce an enemy. The more enemies pierced by one arrow, the louder and more potent the whistling is and the longer it lasts. The whistling creates a sense of panic in creatures that hear it, causing them to flee. If Miyuki pins a creature with an arrow without killing it, the whistling persists until the creature dies. Naturally, it is affected as well, and will thrash violently trying to escape.

    The beauty of Miyuki conceals a dreadful core. Cutthroat Clothiers is proud to create a costume that embodies that duality. After all, none go to Hidden Moon Mountain with clean hands. None live there with kind hearts. And none escape there at all.

    I read through the description a couple of times, my eyes widening with each pass. This wasn¡¯t powerful- it was downright diabolical. It transformed the way Miyuki would be used on the battlefield. Depending on how powerful it was and the range of the fear effect, it could even make a big contribution on the Murder Baboon control front. Hell, it could potentially replace some of our barriers and barricades!

    Slow them down, shoot them up. Well, we already had a fear buff from the Alpha Skull and the¡­

    The¡­

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    I looked over in the corner, where a little ball of light was flashing. The same ball of light that flashes when rewards are waiting for collection. Rewards like, picking something completely at random, a trophy from killing the Murder Baboon alpha. That I had just completely neglected.

    How? How was that possible? I forced by brian to turn its focus back onto Alliana, a knowing leer on her face.

    ¡°I did say our products are the best.¡± She adjusted a sleeve that needed no adjustment. ¡°Cutthroat Clothiers is proud to provide Awakened Souls what no one else can- the ability to be more. Weapons upgrades, stone tapes, even the lesser costumes provided by our wannabe-competitors, they all merely enhance what¡¯s already there. Our clothes let you do things you never could before.¡±

    Didn¡¯t she say they had to send experts to retrieve the clothes from the summons¡¯ worlds? But this laid out a manufacturing process. Either marketing was lying, or Alliana was, or both. I smiled back at the Bandit Queen.

    ¡°Worth every penny.¡±

    Alliana looked at me curiously, gold earrings flashing. ¡°What¡¯s a penny?¡±

    ¡°Something not relevant.¡± I thought it over for a minute. A costume that transformed and enhanced the capability of its intended wearer.

    ¡°Does one uniform cover multiple Awakened if I have duplicates of them?¡±

    ¡°Alas, dear customer, it does not.¡± There was a look of mock regret on her face. Which I probably deserved.

    I took a quick look at the other costumes.

    BRAVE NURSE PAMMY

    A unique costume produced by Cutthroat Clothiers. Pammy might seem like an ordinary school girl, but these are no ordinary times! The hat is made from snow thistle down spun carefully into crisp white threads, with rare Dessendorf Carnelian carved for the ornament.

    The tasteful dress is cut to allow easy movement of the limbs, while retaining the appropriate reserve for a nurse. After all, even a conscript is a soldier, and must maintain the Imperial dignity. To that end, the Imperial crest has been stitched with only the finest silk over the eye-patch. Continuing the military theme, the epaulet loops add both dimension to her shoulders and a place to display her rank insignia. This also frames her award ribbons on the bodice.

    Any awakened healed by Brave Nurse Pammy benefit from the Inspiration buff, temporarily able to ignore damage equivalent to the damage they suffered that was healed by Brave Nurse Pammy. Once that cap is exceeded, they will take damage as normal until healed again.

    Pammy has seen the horrors of the battlefield, and the Hell of the medical tents. Pammy has been one of the wounded herself. Pammy has watched her classmates die, their last moments of suffering caught in her eye, as well as the peace they find in death. Nonetheless, she faces forward, and bravely does her best.

    ¡°Tower Master?¡± Versai looked concerned.

    ¡°Sometimes I hate being right. I really, really hate being right.¡± I closed my eyes and breathed out, then picked up a relatively safe option- Judith.

    HEART OF THE STREETS- JUDITH

    Wait, what? Streets? Wha? This outfit looks exactly like her old outfit, except they gave her a literal blue collared shirt and her pants looked nicer. Same toolbelt, even.

    A unique costume produced by Cutthroat Clothiers. Judith will be popping with blue collar flair in her updated outfit. Triple weave Redu canvas is reinforced at the knees and waist for added protection and to add to the lifespan of the trousers. The boots have a safety adamantium cap-toe, Dura-Lug soles formed from vulcanized Yee-Zip Rubber, and naturally the chambray work shirt can resist both high heat sparks from cutting or welding jobs as well as being breathable for the heavy lifting days. And it¡¯s all held together by the Barrington Co. Triple Lock Stitch, for maximum longevity and durability.

    All items are machine, magic and hand washable. Wash with like colors in cool water, then line dry. Do not wash under a new moon or allow the water to swirl widdershins for six full revolutions. Do not employ pixies, brownies, house elves or the ghosts of dead servants to launder these items. Manufacturer accepts no liability for accidents or injuries which occur if these instructions are not strictly followed.

    NB- As with Judith¡¯s other shirts, this shirt is not armored in the back. Tower Masters are reminded that, while Judith might have been beloved by her family and her community, and is no doubt appreciated by you, this is exactly the sort of behavior that gets you shanked in broad daylight by your best friend''s kid who has a drug habit and debts they can¡¯t pay to people they can¡¯t owe on orders from ¡®people¡¯ whose names cannot be spoken.

    When working with other Worker Class Awakened Souls, Heart of the Streets Judith can sacrifice all but the tiniest shred of her life to let all the workers instantly complete one order¡¯s worth of work. She can only do this once per day, regardless of whether she has been healed or not.

    Okay? That seems¡­ underwhelming? It¡¯s supposed to provide a new capability, not enhance what she can do already. I reread the mechanical part of the description a couple of times before it clicked.

    ¡°Oh, my God. That has to be one of the most broken, abusable things I have ever seen. And I figured out the Fortify Alchemy loop in Skyrim before it went mainstream.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t say I know what that is.¡± Alliana shrugged. I ignored her for the moment. This was too damn tasty to drop. It was ages before I was willing to put down the costume pack.

    I picked up Rakim¡¯s costume pack and saw¡­ a civilian?

    DREAMS OF PARADISE- RAKIM

    A unique costume produced by Cutthroat Clothiers. Just because the Army won¡¯t let you go doesn¡¯t mean you have to let go of your dreams! Rakim is dreaming big in a stylish pair of marsh linen trousers in Coyote Tan paired with a chic Golden Isles cotton peasant blouse in Old Ivory. The look is finished with a chunky Polo Wood bangle and comfy Aasail and Aasail Cappuccino mules. Because while she might live the rest of her life under perpetual surveillance and constant threat of death, she¡¯s determined to do it comfortably.

    Despite its comfort and discreet luxury, this outfit still pairs impressively well with Rakim¡¯s old Army Issue M-121 Carbine. Kept safe in a closet, just in case. Once you know how to kill an entire province with strategically placed earthworks, well, that kind of know-how can make you uncomfortably popular. Be ready for any occasion with Dreams of Paradise Rakim!

    Once every two Waves, Dreams of Paradise Rakim can move an amount of material present within her range of the Tower equal to the amount of material she and all Worker Class Awakened controlled by the Tower Master could move in one order, for any distance equivalent to how far they could shift that mass with the tools and equipment available to them, instantly.

    My brain went on the fritz for a moment. I held up Pammy and Miyuki¡¯s costume descriptions and compared them to Rakim and Judith. Was there some kind of penalty being applied to pure combat units? Judith was Two Star, but so was Miyuki. The difference shouldn¡¯t be just Star level. Did the developers just¡­ not value anything outside of direct combat, so they made the construction types comparatively OP?

    My mind was racing. Judith and Marci both came with a full set of tools, but nothing heavy duty like cranes or bulldozers. Still, they managed to build big-ass walls using ramps and, where necessary, scaffolding. Don¡¯t ask me where the scaffolding came from or where it went, because I don¡¯t know. Had they used pulleys? I can¡¯t remember seeing them do it, but surely they must have. Even the most basic version of¡­

    Wait. Kim had used a pulley, sort of. When she pulled Versai up onto the wall. She had tossed the rope out on one side of the wall, then jumped down the other, using her weight to haul up Versai. That¡¯s basically a pulley. So my Awakened could, at a minimum, make use of available structures and materials to move mass as high as the wall.

    Oh. Oh dear. I really don¡¯t think the Devs understand how badly they goofed. Just¡­ sweet baby Josh, did they goof. They probably thought they underpowered Dreams of Paradise Rakim compared to other Four Star Awakened, maybe trying to balance out how versatile she was normally. Except they were really bad at their job. When combined with Heart of the Streets Judith, it was shockingly busted.

    Odd how the QA department is always the first to get laid off, ain¡¯t it? Oh well. I guess I would just have to play this game as Todd Howard¡­ err¡­ the Devs intended.

    Some of this stuff would need experimentation. But seeing as I just found a quarry, I could (hypothetically) in the middle of a battle, send all my workers to quarry one order¡¯s worth of head sized stones, have them return with the stones, then move the stones the equivalent travel distance from my Tower to the quarry straight up over the battlefield. Because that¡¯s how far they could shift that mass in one turn, even though the stones were now in Rakim¡¯s walking range of the Tower. And I could do it all instantly. So they would be in no danger.

    If that didn¡¯t work, I could build insanely tall cranes out of ¡°Watch Towers¡± that were unreasonably high and had long ropes hanging off the heavily reinforced, round safety railings. So they could lift the rocks up at least several tens of yards.

    Rocks fall. Everybody dies.

    I mean, it probably wouldn¡¯t be that easy, but DAMN did I want to experiment. Even if you could only move them as far as the workers could travel in the clearing, that was still, what, a couple hundred paces in diameter around the Tower? Assuming it wasn¡¯t teleportation and the stuff actually moved through the air, you could have literally tons of rock sweeping the area around the Tower at God-knows-how-fast. And if it was teleportation¡­

    ¡°Moohoohahahahaha!¡±

    ¡°Tower Master, are you alright? Are you possessed?!¡± Versai got in my face, looking worried.

    ¡°Sorry, sorry, evil laugh was supposed to be on the inside but I accidentally said it out loud. Sorry.¡± I coughed.

    ¡°It¡¯s a normal reaction, though usually people reserve that for Miyuki or some other more¡­ enchanting Awakened.¡± Alliana chuckled knowingly.

    ¡°No, that¡¯s weird. Those people are weird. I wouldn¡¯t do that. I¡¯m not weird.¡±

    ¡°That was a little loud, Tower Master.¡± Versai frowned.

    ¡°What?¡± I asked, calmly.

    ¡°No¡­ never mind.¡±

    ¡°Mmm. Moving swiftly along.¡± I fished out one of the receipts. No preview pictures, or I might be a bit more torn. Ah well. ¡°Here. I¡¯ll bite. Tell me about Hidden Moon Mountain, and what exactly is hidden there.¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know all the secrets, because that would mean someone had conquered it already. But I do know two things- One, you can collect several other Awakened Souls directly from there, without summoning crystals. If you play your cards right.¡±

    Yep. Figured as much after Gradden March.

    ¡°Yes? And?¡±

    ¡°And the way you play those cards, at least to start, is to ask the storyteller at the Fragrant Bamboo Inn to tell a ghost story. From there things can shift a bit, but you will have your opportunity.¡±

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s one thing. And the second?¡±

    ¡°The second thing? The second thing is that if you are besieged by monsters, running to the Old Temple can save your life, at least for a while. A very useful tip, Tower Master. Given how the Mountain keeps eating people.¡±

 Weeaboo Vol. 2 Chap. 12- On The Suitability of Rugs and Rug-like People

    Alliana refused to be drawn further, claiming that this was all she knew about Hidden Moon Mountain that wasn¡¯t immediately obvious. She packed up and headed out shortly afterward too. Which was irritating. There was a lot I still wanted to ask her. I had to let it slide. I could see some internal switch had been thrown, and now she had to go. Off to the next place.

    ¡°A potential ally?¡± Versai asked.

    ¡°Mmm. Stand where she stood.¡± I pointed to a spot in front of my throne.

    ¡°Alright?¡±

    ¡°What do you see?¡±

    ¡°You? Your throne? The row of perfect victory awards, the notice board, a bit of wood, the table with the Council Bell¡­¡± She shrugged.

    ¡°Yeah, you saw it but I guess your culture is different enough not to recognize what you are seeing. Frankly, it might just be a coincidence. But I¡¯ve known people like her before. I¡¯m not going to bet on coincidence.¡±

    ¡°What did I miss?¡±

    ¡°Remember her sob story about how she became a bandit?¡±

    ¡°Yes? It all sounded plausible to me.¡±

    ¡°Me too. Stock, even.¡±

    ¡°Stock?¡± Versai tilted her head to one side. Her hair spilled like sunlight spun into gold and honey across a perfect shoulder. Been a while since I noticed it did that. Could I be building up a resistance to the Pretty Person Halo? Well, it was either that or depression and trauma. Fingers crossed for resistance.

    ¡°A standard story. Generic. Something that just ¡°fit¡± without needing too much elaboration. A random farmer¡¯s daughter goes on to be lord of a hundred mountains with thousands of underlings, then gets laterally transferred to the job of multiversal clothing merchant?¡± It was my turn to shrug. ¡°Sure. That makes perfect sense and I have no further questions.¡±

    ¡°Mmm. Stranger things have happened, though. And are happening.¡± Versai casually waved at the entire world. ¡°It could be true.¡±

    ¡°Yep. Could be. I really don¡¯t know. But what I do know is that there are a lot of cultures that carve funeral markers of one kind or another, and that bit of wood is one.¡±

    Versai paused. ¡°Kim?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    She went quiet again. Then, softly- ¡°She has no sister to memorialize?¡±

    ¡°Maybe she does, maybe she doesn¡¯t. Who knows? Who cares? The reality of the sister isn¡¯t the point. She was making herself relatable. ¡°You carve funeral tablets for those you have lost, and so do I.¡±¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°I always hated those games. Being a bodyguard was simple. If I was getting involved, the problem would be solved with violence. Courtly games were always my sisters¡¯ thing.¡±

    I smiled at that. ¡°You will have to tell me about them.¡±

    ¡°Mmm. Some other time. How did you get used to spotting scammers?¡±

    Relationship locked, huh? Oh well. ¡°I had a lot of desperate people for clients. If they knew you, at all, even just by name, they would try to convince you to invest with them. And since all these pricks watched Tik-Toks about how Bernie Madoff made his money, they all tried to run variations on affinity scams. With varying degrees of success.¡±

    ¡°Some of them got you to invest?¡±

    ¡°No, the variation was between ¡°total failure¡± and ¡°total failure and I look down on you, disdaining to even use you as a rug.¡±¡± Naturally I invested in stable earners like limited edition figurines, Funko Pops, and rare vintage ¡®art books.¡¯ Well. I put a little money in a few other things. But I ignored the brokerage account as much as I could and just concentrated on the happy things.

    She hummed in approval. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s the way. Trash should know its place, and it is the burden of the superior to remind them of it.¡±

    God damn it, Versai.

    ¡°Your Discipline is named¡­ Inherent Superiority, right?¡±

    ¡°Oh, you remembered!¡± I felt like I just earned some relationship points. Just gonna¡­ ignore all that and press on.

    ¡°Up for a trip to a beast den?¡±

    ¡°Now that I can move faster than should be physically possible as long as I¡¯m attacking? Oh yes. Who else is going?¡±

    ¡°Rikka, Rakim, Miyuki¡­ I think I can send five?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right.¡± She nodded.

    ¡°Not a lot of other good choices. Rache isn¡¯t going to be any help in a den, ditto the artillery, the Blue Roses are definitionally useless except for buffing Carousel, and Carousel isn¡¯t going because Glass Arrow won¡¯t keep her safe at close range.¡±

    Versai thought about it for a minute, then shrugged. ¡°Pammy just got an upgrade.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a better idea.¡± I drummed my fingers on the arms of my throne. Plush canary yellow microfiber really undermines the drumming effect. I really couldn¡¯t think of anyone better. Corporal Mika wasn¡¯t that much better than a Standard Mika at combat, and they really shined on defense.

    ¡°I hate sending you out without me.¡±

    She gave me a look. ¡°Meaning no disrespect¡­ technically¡­ but what exactly could you do if you did go? Stab a monster and hope it doesn¡¯t get you first?¡±

    ¡°Says the swordswoman. I won¡¯t play around with my life. I just don¡¯t like it, that''s all.¡± I exhaled hard. I swear I could feel the weight of the funeral tablet pressing down on my back. Turning from wood to lead. But the one unalterable truth of this place was that if you fail to grasp every opportunity, you will most definitely die.

    ¡°Go. Clear the den if you can, and if you can¡¯t, retreat at once. Bring them back alive for me, and make sure you come back too.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master.¡±

    It only took one order for them to raid the beast¡¯s den. It was exactly as described- a hole in the side of a slope with a monster in it. Not a monster like the ones that attacked the Tower. This sounded more like a tiger with the chitinous shell of a scorpion that also breathed fire and who¡¯s claws were poisonous.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Versai carefully didn¡¯t say I would have been useless there. So carefully, it was deafening.

    Pammy¡¯s new healing buff rapidly formed a virtuous loop where my Awakened were taking, functionally, half damage. Putting Versai up front to tank was a bit of a mixed bag. She worked the monster over hard, apparently, but the monster actually prioritized killing Pammy.

    I frowned when I heard that. Most games have a mechanic for determining monster aggro. It was usually some variation on who caused it the most damage. Some classes in some games, especially tanks in MMORPG¡¯s, would have abilities to increase a monster¡¯s hatred, making them focus on the heavily armored fighters instead of squishy rogues or mages. There was also usually some mechanic for prioritizing healers as targets, often based around the amount of healing they provided.

    Or maybe the tiger just picked the weakest looking person and prioritized killing them. That was an established mechanic too, in the mythical land called Reality.

    Whatever the truth was, Pammy had the great good sense to keep running around behind the other summons. Versai kept her shield in the monster¡¯s face as much as possible, and the rest of my damage dealers just maximized their output without worrying about anything else. It worked. The armored tiger put up a good fight¡­ but only a good fight.

    Speed-hacking Versai is a certified menace.

    ¡°Good loot?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I¡¯ve never seen these before. It seems good, though.¡± Versai handed over two packages.

    Armored Tiger Rug- A simple, brutal trophy, it has the benefit of being an impressive wall hanging or a durable and surprisingly easy to clean rug. May be of particular interest to warriors, barbarians and nomads.

    Okay? Is it secretly a mission item? Does it buff negotiations, but the devs didn¡¯t want to stick visible stats on it? As a rug, in my personal opinion, it is a failure. Hard metal plates may protect the floorboards, but I¡¯ve got a stone floor here. I need soft. I need that deep pile. And it completely clashed with the aesthetic of the Throne Room. Hell with it. I¡¯d stick it in the courtyard of my private quarters. It will look sharp hanging on a wall there.

    The second package was a severed head on a stick. I nearly dropped the thing when it popped out of the packaging. The head was huge, a yard across at the temples, with a jaw that would give piranhas feelings of inadequacy.

    Armored Tiger Trophy- Proof of your martial prowess, the totem inspires fear in Tiger-type beasts, as well as evil spirits. May have an unusual effect on warriors, barbarians and nomads.

    I didn¡¯t know what to make of that. I mean, most of my summons were warriors, and ¡°barbarians¡± to me were usually Dutch or Portuguese merchants trying to conduct trade in Japan during the Sengoku Jidai. Or Conan. A ¡®barbarian¡¯ in games is basically an offense oriented warrior with a fur fetish and a thing for two handed weapons.

    God I want to play Dragon¡¯s Crown again. That game was just so peak.

    As for nomads¡­ we live in a Tower. There is a real limited distance we can travel from it. Were we supposed to expect a visit from horse archers or something? Mongols turning up to get ahead of our Great Wall?

    I have so many questions. So many. Where would I find more Tiger-type beasts? Can I bring the totem into the Sky Realm for use in Realm wars?

    ¡°Think I can use this in Realm wars?¡±

    ¡°Sounds plausible.¡± Versai nodded halfheartedly.

    I slowly sighed. We didn¡¯t get anything much out of this expedition, but these pieces might be situationally useful. Time to give myself the treat I had been saving. I tapped the glowing reward from killing the Murder Baboon Alpha.

    Skull of Rag Shebbin- The beast has no name for itself, but it is known and feared as Rag Shebbin. A being only inferred by its traces, for none have seen it and lived. None have survived it at all, in fact. Until you. The sheer fact that you have this horrible thing¡¯s skull inspires awe and terror in units capable of concealment. They will still try to kill you, but they will do so suffering fear penalties.

    I replaced the Monster Alpha totem over my front door with the new skull straight away. No speech this time. I wasn¡¯t feeling chatty. ¡°Wanna bet if the Relic Site Rache found is Hidden Moon Mountain?

    ¡°No bet.¡± Versai shrugged. Carousel was hanging around too, but it just¡­ kind of hurt to talk to her. I didn¡¯t know Madame hardly at all. I knew her through the things she left behind, and how she handled things at the battle for the Floating Quarter. A parasocial relationship, and now I was rejecting the person she was molded into.

    I had admired her for her resolve and her sacrifices, and then I was revolted at the last, and greatest, of those sacrifices. I had kind of thought I was outgrowing the Trash Human tag. Guess some things are bone deep. ¡°Thank you for your service. Now go be useful somewhere I don¡¯t have to look at you.¡±

    Yeah. Bone deep.

    Hell with it.

    ¡°Versai, Rikka, Rache, Rakim, Miyuki, you are with me. Launch Expedition.¡±

    We arrived at twilight. We were on the crest of a grassy hill, looking up at a mountain. There was a decent dirt path leading uphill, into a dense forest. I could see bamboo waving in the distance, as well as a mix of other trees behind them. There was a fresh smell to the place. I couldn¡¯t really put a finger on it, but it smelled clean. It smelled good. Wholesome.

    ¡°Hidden Moon Mountain.¡±

    ¡°It might not be.¡± Versai struggled half heartedly.

    ¡°Rikka, is this Hidden Moon Mountain?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I am home.¡±

    Versai and I shared a small sigh.

    ¡°Do you think we will run into Mika¡¯s home town soon?¡± I asked idly. Nobody answered. There was a lot of tall grass dancing in the evening breeze. Miyuki kept saying she saw the snake hidden in the grass when she spotted hidden units. Odds were good that it only looked peaceful.

    ¡°Alright, time for scouting. Miyuki, can you lead us to the Fragrant Bamboo Inn?¡±

    She paused, seeming to struggle with that for a moment. Then something clicked. ¡°Miyuki can show the way.¡±

    ¡°Good, thank you. Rache, Rikka, scout and report any nearby points of interest, threats, opportunities, all that. Particularly find the Old Temple and scout around there. Meet us at the Fragrant Bamboo Inn. Everyone else, lets¡¯ go get ourselves some rooms for the night.¡±

    We walked uphill, not pushing the pace. There was a faint sound of the wind in the grass that seemed to wrap around us as we walked. I¡¯m not a walk-for-fun kind of guy, but it was¡­ nice. Cool, but not yet cold. Breezy without being annoying. No loud noises.

    I was one hundred percent sure we would be jumped. Just a question of now or later.

    ¡°Miyuki, Rakim, Versai, keep an eye out. There may be ambushers in the grass.¡±

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Just paranoid. Unless I¡¯m right.¡±

    Night fell as we walked, indigo twilight fading into night. Thin pinpricks of light emerged, slowly forming constellations I had never seen. I wondered how high up the skybox was. What the exact dimensions of this little pocket world were. For Gradden March, the ruin site was one street and a few buildings that eventually unlocked a pretty decent pocket of a city. This appeared to be an entire mountain. Would I get a mountain next to the Floating Quarter after I conquered it?

    Wild to think. ¡°Hidden Moon Mountain.¡± There is a story hidden in that name.

    ¡°Tower Master, there is a lantern in the distance.¡±  Versai pointed. The lantern was moving quite quickly along the edge of the bamboo forest. It would stop and jerk around now and then, before racing on.

    ¡°Can you see who is holding it?¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not quite bright enough.¡±

    I was about to order an investigation, but hesitated. ¡°Miyuki, do you see who is making that light over there?¡±

    ¡°Miyuki does not.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± My lips pressed into a thin smile. ¡°Ignore it then.¡±

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Remember Alliana¡¯s advice? She said to ask the Storyteller at the inn about a ghost story.¡±

    ¡°You think this is connected?¡±

    ¡°Mmm.¡± I didn¡¯t feel like explaining about fox spirits leading travelers astray with their foxfire. Or any of the other monsters that liked to use a light as a lure. Safest to ignore it, and stick closely to the trail.

    We were in the bamboo now. We had lost the stars but gained the most incredible fragrance. I understood the name of the inn, now. It was sweet, and a little woody. Almost spicy, but still vegital. I struggled to put my finger on just what it was, other than happy-making. It also, I quickly noticed, was deafening.

    The thunderclouds of narrow leaves and tall bamboo were in constant motion, swaying in the faintest breeze. It sounded like rain was falling, heavy fat drops falling on the forest and beating on the green roof overhead. The wind blew, the bamboo thrashed, and the dry storm blew all around us. Urging us on. Reminding us it would be best to run for shelter.

    I¡¯m not some iron minded monk. I picked up the pace, and reminded everyone to keep an eye out. The noise of the forest overwhelmed everything else. A vast white noise machine that would perfectly hide the steps of anything creeping up in the dark.

    Miyuki¡¯s hands kept twitching. She was holding her bow in her left hand, seemingly casually, but I could see the way it almost jerked and swam in the air. Her right hand made tiny grasping motions too, like she was about to draw an arrow, but controlled herself.

    Versai was the same way. Her cape had transformed back into a round shield, and her hand fidgeted on her sword hilt. Her eyes swung back and forth, but she kept her head more or less still. I had the sense that this was a trained response. That even if she knew her protectee was in danger, she couldn¡¯t act like there was danger.

    Rakim had no such burden. She had her carbine at the low ready position and her head on a pivot. Her eyes raked through the darkness with the ready calm of an airbag on a wet night.

    And here I was, behind the wheel and speeding us down the road. I deliberately slowed my steps. Not by very much. Just a tiny bit. I focused on walking purposefully, confidently. That was the secret, right? Fake it ¡®til you make it. I¡¯m scared. So my people are scared. But if I¡¯m confident, they will be confident. And since I can¡¯t be confident, I can fake it.

    I should sing. I paused and reflected on that idea a moment. I should not sing.

    ¡°Does anyone here know how to sing?¡±

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°I once got fined for singing the FLCL theme song in a park. Apparently it qualified as noise pollution.¡±

    There was silence. ¡°Oh come on. None of you?¡±

    ¡°I was a bodyguard, Tower Master, not the entertainment.¡±

    ¡°Miyuki stalks her prey in silence.¡±

    ¡°Never on duty.¡± Rakim¡¯s voice was a little muffled. Repressed. Ready to crash out. The forest was getting to her more than she was letting on.

    ¡°Off duty?¡±

    There was a long pause. She was a four star- not as bright or independent as a six star, but there was a lot more flexibility in her than a two or three star. Eventually she shook her head. I¡¯d have bet my own head there was a story there. But so what if I wanted to pry? She couldn¡¯t answer even if she wanted to.

    I suddenly grinned, and then my grin boiled over into a laugh. I stopped walking. I had to! I couldn¡¯t keep going, I was laughing so hard. My non-existent lungs were wheezing, my leg was sore from slapping, I was laughing so hard.

    ¡°Ghosts! I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m scared of running into ghosts or monsters on a dark forest path at night.¡±

    ¡°Sir?¡± This time it was Rakim that was giving me the odd look.

    ¡°We are the Hundred Ghost Procession, Rakim. WE are the danger in the night. Onwards! Let¡¯s go show these monsters what real undead can do!¡±

 Weeaboo Vol. 2 Chap. 13- Story Time With Mrs. Hungry

    Fragrant Bamboo Inn was warmly lit from within, drawing us up the path towards it. There was a clearing around the inn, a little island in the bamboo shallows before you ventured out into the piney depths up the mountain. A safe refuge from the invisible terrors of the forest. Whatever they might be.

    ¡°Ah, guests, come in, come in! It¡¯s so late, did you get lost on the road?¡±

    We were greeted at the door by an enthusiastic older man. I never quite understood the expression bird boned. Birds have hollow bones- what, did you crack open a skinny guy¡¯s arm like a chicken wing just to check? But I see it now.

    The old man was wearing a yukata, and the limbs poking out of the sleeves looked like autumn branches. Not an ounce of fat anywhere on him. There wasn¡¯t much more muscle. I would have thought he was starving, were it not for his bright eyes. There was a spryness to him. He was unburdened by heavy clothes or heavy meat or heavy bones.

    The innkeeper bowed repeatedly, bobbing up and down like a sparrow pecking for seeds. His left hand lifted the curtain, and he bowed yet again to wave us in with his right.

    ¡°Please, this way! Let us get you around the fire, warm you up. Four people for the night? We might be a little crowded, but I¡¯m sure we can make room. A busy night tonight. Bad time to be on the mountain. Bad time.¡±

    ¡°Oh, has something happened?¡± The inn was exceptionally unexceptional. I wasn¡¯t really sure what to expect from a rural Japanese-ish inn. Something between a peasant¡¯s hut and a Ryokan. What there was instead was rough wooden tables built around a fire pit, with hanging paper lanterns scattered about the room. It wasn¡¯t brightly lit, but it was very cozy.

    ¡°Oh yes! You are fortunate, very fortunate, not to run into any monsters in the woods. They have been a terrible problem. Mmm. Seems like they have been a problem for years now. But what can we do? This is their mountain far more than it is ours.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Say more.¡±

    ¡°Fox spirits, spider women, long necked women, demon cats, and those are just the ones I can name! Other things, too terrible for words, are out there too. Awful things that make deals with awful men.¡± His gaze lingered on Miyuki for a moment. He was subtle about it, but he did. And he wasn¡¯t looking with appreciation either.

    Ding! The innkeeper has stories to tell, and secrets to keep.  I wonder how you are going to react when Rikka walks through the door.

    No tea on offer, I noticed. No soup bubbling over the firepit. Nobody here looked upset about it. There wasn¡¯t any food to eat in Gradden March either. Did they just not want to have to program that? Or was there a deeper meaning to it?

    ¡°When you say the mountain belongs more to monsters than humans-¡±

    ¡°Haha! Does it sound very shocking? But it¡¯s true. You are just in time. Our local storyteller, Mrs. Hungry will be here any minute.

    Mrs. Hungry¡­ I remember that name. She is one of the recruitable characters from Hidden Moon Mountain. We settled in around a table to wait. The other visitors didn¡¯t look like anything much at first glance. Broccoli characters, NPC¡¯s of the first order. It was a morbid sort of parlor game, but deciding which were hidden monsters/cultists/sorcerers and which were victims helped to pass the time.

    I gave up when I realized that I just couldn¡¯t tell the difference. The longer you looked, the more awful they got. After a few minutes, they all just screamed ¡°I am a secret cannibal.¡± One of them, an older gentleman, kept liking his left index finger for no obvious reason. He held it up just to the left of his mouth, tip pointed perfectly vertical, and gave it long, lapping, licks.

    There wasn¡¯t anything remotely sexual about it. Like a cat cleaning its claws. That¡¯s what it looked like. A cat polishing one particular toe. Demon cats spotted on the mountain, but instead of a hot chick with nekomimi I get this droopy fleshed old timer. He spotted me looking and smiled in my direction. It was like his lips were a stage curtain, pulled up and to the corners by an invisible rope.

    He had the most remarkably yellow teeth I think I have ever seen. Human teeth, but the color of a school bus. Like nacho cheese sauce, I thought. And his black eyes sank into the folds of skin around them. Lost in the laundry pile of his face.

    Sitting at the same table was a much more normal looking man. Middle aged, and the victim of a hard life, but doing okay. Not great, his yukata was frayed and stained. But okay. He was clean. His hair was neatly combed back and tied in a short ponytail. His sandals were visibly repaired, but seemed decent enough.

    His gut was swollen to the point of bursting. Nine months pregnant with a quintuplet of baby elephants. The yukata was tied under the bulge which breached the cloth flaps of the garment and displayed his boney sternum to the room. The veins under his skin were traced in red. Bloody spiderwebs barely visible in the warm light of the inn.

    They were all like this- the husband and wife who¡¯s every move was perfectly mirrored by the other. A mother and daughter who would always whisper to each other, then look around the room and laugh. Every time they laughed, their hands came up to hide their black teeth. Which was a thing, at some times in Japanese history, for the absolute peak of aristocracy. But if you were in this inn, you weren¡¯t someone qualified to blacken their teeth.

    ¡°Everyone, everyone, your attention please! Mrs. Hungry is here!¡±

    The innkeeper walked out next to the fire, clapping his hands and drawing our eyes. The woman next to him looked¡­ about as ordinary as the rest of this crowd. Mrs. Hungry was tall. Old. Rail thin. Long arms that hung loose from stooped shoulders, her boney fingers dangling like willow whips.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°I will start tonight with a funny story.¡± Her voice had a hint of rasp to it. I couldn¡¯t see her face clearly. She was looking down, her features obscured by the long waterfall of her sterling-silver hair.

    ¡°Once upon a time, there was a princess living in a castle. She didn¡¯t like playing with her bright blue and gold ball. She didn¡¯t like watching the orange koi flash gold and silver in their pretty little pond. She didn¡¯t like her warm quilt, or the freshly woven floor mats or the big bowls of rice and soup that came with every meal. She didn¡¯t even like the meat and fatty fish that were served on lacquered trays and richly glazed pottery. She was a very unhappy girl.

    ¡°One day, a servant came by with a big fan. On the fan was painted a heron. The idea was to throw the fan in the air, then catch it. The Princess was very bored and unhappy, so she reluctantly gave it a try. She threw the fan up into the air, and it was the most remarkable thing! The heron on the fan seemed to flutter and fly as the fan drifted down. Laughing, she did it again and again.

    ¡°The servant asked if the young miss would like to play a game of catch, tossing the fan back and forth. She said yes, of course! And so the heron seemed to drift to and fro, gliding across the pond waters, looking for unaware frogs. It was beautiful, and powerful, and fierce, and free. The Princess loved to watch it fly.

    ¡°The Princess was very happy with this game, and she wanted to play it day and night. The servant was very pleased, because no one else had managed to cheer up the princess, but he had. He dreamed of his own promotion, his own chance for big bowls of rice and fragrant meat sprinkled with hair thin slivers of green onion, carried to his seat on precious glazed porcelain imported from the land beyond the water. And in his dreams, the servant who carried the plates and bowls looked not a little like a grown-up Princess.

    ¡°The servant smiled at his reflection in the water. He knew it was only a dream. But it was a nice dream, so he was happy to dream it a little longer.

    ¡°But the Princess didn¡¯t stay happy for very long. The Heron flew about, but it never caught any frogs. It went here and there, but it never found a single bite to eat. She felt terrible. She had very boring food, and lots of it, but no living frogs or eels for the beautiful bird that lived on her fan.

    ¡°No, the Princess was not happy at all. Fortunately, she lived in a castle and her father was a fearsome warrior. Hers was a brave heart. So one day she called for the Servant to fish out a Koi from the pond, but he must only use his hands. He was splashing about, not achieving much on his knees at the pond¡¯s edge. It was a foolish demand, he thought, but far from the silliest thing the Princess had asked for. Besides, he was her favorite, and destined for greater things.

    ¡°He was soon proven right about that. The Princess came up behind him with a spear and, running quickly, drove it through his back. She rode her momentum to keep the blade moving forward, pushing the servant into the pond, then pinning him to the bottom. As he drowned in the muck, confused, terrified and in pain, he didn¡¯t see the heron circling, or the happy smile of his mistress.

    ¡°The end.¡±

    There were chuckles around the room. The mother and daughter were softly laughing behind their hands, sharing a knowing look, then laughing again. The innkeeper had a ¡°Hah hah hahAAA¡± laugh, the last vowel suddenly going up in volume and register, dragging on for too long. The room seemed to agree- this was a very funny story.

    The listeners reached into their sleeves and pulled out Runed Bones. They tossed the carved fragments at Mrs. Hungry¡¯s feet. They clattered on the floor, making a sound I couldn¡¯t put words to. Not just hollow, or dense, or crips, or soft. They sounded uniquely like themselves- the most vital part of the bones of a monster.

    In life, the monsters were predators. In death, they were money. There is an allegory there, or a metaphor or something. I just couldn¡¯t find it. I threw in a couple bones myself. Didn¡¯t seem wise to stand out as cheap.

    ¡°Does anyone have a story they want to hear? Come come, most of you are old fiends. You know how this works!¡±

    I smiled, recognizing my cue. ¡°Can I ask for a ghost story?¡±

    That quieted the room down. An eerie thing, having that eerie bunch all suddenly turn and stare at you.

    ¡°Ten bones for a safe story, fifty for a true one.¡± Mrs. Hungry''s words sounded like a hooked worm. I tossed her the fifty anyhow.

    ¡°A true one, please.¡± I noticed the bones fell on an empty floor. All the bones that had been there before had quietly disappeared, despite no one picking them up.

    ¡°Very well then. A true ghost story.¡± Her voice picked up a faint sing-song feeling. The rasp never quite went away.

    ¡°Once upon a time on this very mountain, there lived an old woodcutter and his wife. The two lived a poor existence, where even salt was a luxury and a single fistful of grain was all that could fill a belly for a day. Still, they far preferred life in the deep woods to the madness and hunger consuming the rich farmland below.

    ¡°Life is merely choosing the road to your death and doing your best to not be interrupted on your path. The farmlands had many interruptions, such as plague, war and famine. Things got so bad, the once-fat farmers came to the woods. First to hunt for wild vegetables and herbs, then for meat, then for tree bark. Yes, so desperate to fill their once bouncy bellies, the farmers resorted to eating tree bark.

    ¡°The woodcutter and his wife weren¡¯t pitiless folk. They had great sympathy for the once-fat farmers. After all, it was the farmers who used to buy the wood the woodcutter cut. But the hungry farmers were eating the mountain bare, and something had to be done.

    ¡°Husband and wife sat together in their little hut. Lighting no fire, nor a lamp, nor permitting even the light of the moon or stars to enter. They sat in the darkness and spoke frankly to each other the words they could not speak in the light. All the hidden truths from the dark caves of their heart felt safe to escape their tombs and run loose in the air. At least until the lights came on and they evaporated. Leaving only the traces of their passing in the minds and ears of the Woodcutter and his wife.

    ¡°The Woodcutter went to the nearest farming village and found the Headman. The Headman was in a bad way- usually he could find a few extra benefits for himself or his family, but now there was nothing to graft, and the responsibility of feeding the village rested heavily on him.

    ¡°The Headman imagined he was possessed by two demons- Hunger and Responsibility. Hunger peeled away his muscles and fat, eating them leisurely as his nerves screamed. But Responsibility was even more terrible. Responsibility broke his bones and drank his marrow. Running its long tongue inside the very core of him, clearing it out, leaving him as empty flesh hanging on hollow bones.

    ¡°The Woodcutter told him about the special place on the mountain, where you can always find fat pigs to hunt. You just need to perform the secret ritual, and you will find lots and lots of pigs to eat. You need a few people to go naked and wear a pig¡¯s head mask, and a few more to go naked and chase them with spears. Then the pig spirits would appear, and you could hunt them.

    ¡°The Headsman went around and around thinking about it, but Hunger and Responsibility ate away at him, stopping him from thinking about anything but them. He stopped wondering if he should try it, and began wondering who he could convince to try it with him.

    ¡°On the night of the new moon, the Headsman led a dozen villagers up into the mountain. He brought them to the Heartless Clearing. They ate the blessed mushrooms, faces contorting under the pig head masks. Then they stripped themselves naked, hunter and hunted alike, and began the ritual.¡±

    ¡°The Pigs bolted and ran around the clearing, some running on all fours before desperately climbing to their feet. The Hunters yelled and waved their spears, chasing wildly. Remembering the time when food was abundant, remembering the warmth that came from a full belly.

    ¡°Once, twice, three times around they went, before their Hunger-gnawed bodies gave out. They couldn¡¯t keep up the chase anymore. It was then that the spirits descended. The Hunters rose to their feet. The Pigs snorted nervously. Sniffing the air. A hunter raised his spear, and threw it well. The Pig¡¯s screams alerted the rest of the sounder, and they bolted away.

    ¡°Around and around the Heartless Clearing they went. One by one, the Pigs fell, slaughtered by the Hunters. Each Hunter cut off an ear from a kill and anointed themselves in the blood of their prey. Each cut out a liver for themselves, eating it raw, eating it above the cleaned and gutted pig corpse. They needed to eat, so that they could return with their prey to the village.

    ¡°The Hunters were mighty, returning with great honor, and none of the villagers dared question where the rest of their party went, nor why all the meat was butchered and boned before they came down the mountain. All agreed it was pig meat. All agreed that it must be pig meat. It couldn¡¯t possibly be anything else. It filled bellies. It allowed precious grain to stretch that little bit farther. It saved their lives.

    ¡°But the rain didn¡¯t fall. War destroyed the good farmland around the village. Famine still stalked the land and the demon Hunger still ate their flesh. Again and again, it became time to hunt pigs. Until only the Hunters were left. And then, only hungry ghosts. Stalking around the Heartless Clearing. Waiting for their next hunt.

    ¡°As for the Woodcutter and his wife? That is a story for another day.¡±

 Weeaboo Vol. 2 Chap. 14 Finding a Friendly Face

    The Fragrant Bamboo Inn was filled with contented sighs and nods of approval. I sat quite still, trying to process. Ms. Hungry spoke with a steady cadence, not quite flat, but calm. As though she was revealing the most ordinary truths to her listeners. It made those moments where she stressed a word, when she changed the cadence, hit like a thrown brick.

    I could imagine that degree of starvation and desperation. Something I had never known, never even came close to knowing, but I could imagine it. All those hungry villagers. Nowhere to go. Nothing to eat. Trying to climb the mountain and find some way to survive, but is it that easy to live off the land?

    Hungry Ghosts. That was a Buddhist thing. Or it was back on earth. Gaki, or Pretas. Sometimes they were literal demons from Hell, sometimes they were ghosts stuck between Hell and earth. Constantly trying to sate their desires, usually food. I¡¯m sure I¡¯d seen them in some Anime or game, but I couldn¡¯t think of one off the top of my head.

    Could this be a world where they truly existed? Gradden March had actual magic and we were fighting actual monsters with the actual embodied spirits of the heroic dead, so Hungry Ghosts wasn¡¯t impossible. But my gamer senses were tingling. Heartless Clearing. That¡¯s the real clue. There is a spot on this mountain that is a natural ritual site.

    It wasn¡¯t exactly subtle, but that¡¯s the meta these days. Gotta make the next step obvious, or gamers get frustrated and quit.

    I leaned over towards Miyuki. ¡°Do you know where the Heartless Clearing is?¡± I kept my voice low. It was probably a useless effort, given this crowd.

    Miyuki hesitated, then half nodded and half shook her head. ¡°Miyuki has never seen it, but has heard things.¡±

    I smiled a little and sat back on the crummy wooden chair. Time to see how the rest of the evening went.

    Which was the exact moment I was yeeted straight back to my Throne Room.

    ¡°Oh what the Hell!¡±

    My Throne Room was unchanged. The golden Dachshund statue was as cute as ever. The reclining throne was as comfy. Really, nothing had changed.

    ¡°Rache, Rikka, report!¡±

    Rache roared up the steps on her motorcycle. Rikka took a minute longer. ¡°Rikka?¡±

    There was silence. Then an awkward cough from behind me. ¡°Rikka struggled to find a shadow in this brightly lit room.¡±

    She was in the shadow cast by the reclining back of my armchair. She was devastatingly cute, crouched down like she was drawing circles on the floor.

    ¡°Do you have to appear in a shadow?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Do you teleport from shadow to shadow? That is, move instantly between them?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°So¡­¡±

    ¡°I should appear emerging from a shadow, if there are any shadows.¡± She sounded stubborn. I swear I saw her fingers twitch towards the ground. Rikka really was about to start drawing circles. Adorable.

    ¡°So¡­ how did you get there?¡±

    ¡°I hid behind Rache and used the blind spots in your vision to make my way to the only shadow I could see.¡±

    I blinked. That was genuinely impressive.

    ¡°Well. I know you are here, now, so why don¡¯t you come out and stand with Rache as you report. Also, do you have any idea why we are back from the Relic Site so quickly?¡±

    ¡°We completed the task.¡± Rikka made it sound obvious.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°We completed the task.¡±

    ¡°Elaborate. Please.¡±

    Rikka nodded. ¡°The bamboo forest has a number of small streams, a wide variety of hidden monsters, a few huts used by recuses and criminals, and some spots that I think might be quarriable. I don¡¯t know much about stones, but I think that is what they were. Also, that bamboo is a harvestable resource. It is very strong, and regrows quickly. You can even eat the shoots in spring.¡±

    ¡°All good stuff.¡± I nodded encouragingly. ¡°But was there anything particularly special? For example, a clearing full of hungry ghosts? Or similar?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°No, nothing like that. Anything like that would be past the bamboo forests up on the mountain. The bamboo forest are¡­¡± She reached around for the right words. ¡°They are the boundary. Where you travel from the normal world into the true darkness of Hidden Moon Mountain.¡±

    Ahah. Promising. Good to know.

    ¡°Rache?¡±

    ¡°Bad country for a good ride, boss, and lots of banditos hidn¡¯ out in the bushes. Can¡¯t say there was much to see.¡±

    ¡°Did you find the Old Temple?¡±

    ¡°Nosir, I did not.¡± She shook her head slowly, cowboy had shading her thin face.

    ¡°It¡¯s on the mountain proper. About half way up.¡± Rikka volunteered.

    ¡°So you scouted around, found everything of interest, then I¡¯m guessing you found Fragrant Bamboo Inn?¡±

    They both nodded.

    I leaned back in my throne. The math wasn¡¯t mathing. I had designated that we were spending one order-time on exploring the mountain. My goal was to see if we could knock the whole thing out in a day, but I wanted to make sure we could regroup and plan after getting the lay of the land. Which we achieved, but when we were clearing Gradden Marche, we did an entire mini-dungeon per order. I took a walk through the forest and listened to a couple of creepy stories. Not at all the same.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    The scouting job Rikka and Rache did was roughly equivalent to a one-order job. But then, what did my trip to the Inn count as?

    I sat bolt upright. Was it that simple? Each time I had investigated Gradden March, we completed a mini-dungeon then we voluntarily exited. One order complete. We stuck together as a unit, because I was always anticipating getting jumped. Correctly, as it happened. This time, I split the party, then we got booted from the relic site.

    The Devs, damn their eyes, by accident or on purpose, managed to set up a situation where order-time could be expended within another order. I shook my head. That wasn¡¯t right. It was more like a money jar. You said to the game system ¡°I¡¯m going to spend five dollars on this expedition,¡± and you could spend up to five dollars during the course of the expedition. You could put as much money as you wanted in the jar, so long as you had the orders to cover it.

    I think I lost control of the metaphor there. No matter! Pressing on.

    You ordered the expedition. One, two, three, however many orders you wanted in there, were invested at the setup screen. But the ¡°orders¡± only got used up when I split up the party or left the site.

    But why? I needed to puzzle it out now, lest it bite me in the once-ample-posterior later.

    The danger level of a relic site probably wasn¡¯t proportional to the power of the Awakened Souls under a Tower Master¡¯s command. My personal bet was that they were fixed at world creation, and the ¡®players¡¯ could see roughly how difficult they would be to conquer. This gave them some easy ones to satisfyingly crush, as well as some hard ones as goals to work towards.

    (Or spend a crapload of IRL money, draw a hojillion six stars, overlevel and overgear them with resource packs you bought for yet more IRL money, and then steamroll the whole game. But since that wasn¡¯t an option for me, I¡¯ll ignore it.)

    But it did mean that the relic sites were an interesting problem for the devs, mechanically. The Tower Master could do whatever they wanted, and it didn¡¯t use up an order. This was because Tower Masters generally couldn¡¯t do anything useful, and had to work through orders to their Awakened Souls. So presumably you would have to send them to get things done, but then, why not treat it like a beast den? Why let the Tower Master come along at all?

    I started working it out, drawing the pieces of the puzzle on the arm of my microfiber recliner. It was about attention, and irritation, management. Or at least, it was on the game design side.

    The pieces were clicking together. If the Tower Master accompanied his summons, all his summons, on the expedition, no order time passed because no ¡°orders¡± were given. BUT it meant that the player had to work through the whole relic site on their own. Which took non-order time. I could imagine how tedious it would be if I had to personally search an entire mountain looking for hidden chests or whatever.

    So you got a lot of story content. A lot of potential new summons, a lot of unique interactions, got to scope out the new addition to your territory. All great stuff for some gamers. But others would just want to burn through it. ¡°Gimmie the loot, Gimmie the loot,¡± as noted urban historian Christopher Wallace once said of life in Brooklyn. For those guys, you let them invest orders. You let them turn their summons loose on the relic site. And spend the money necessary to get the summons and gear necessary to auto-farm the sites.

    A tiny handful of whales pay for everyone else¡¯s free game. I¡¯d bet this set up was designed to exploit exactly that demographic.

    I nodded. It all clicked. Gradden March had been a very specific type of dungeon crawler, one that I hypothetically could have cleared by turning loose my summons. Even something like Jim¡¯s fighting pit could have been cleared if I had rolled in with five overleveled Six Stars. And since ¡°time¡± in this game is basically a joke, I could have stood in the hub area, ordered them in, and a few seconds later they would pile out with the next clue or quest item.

    So¡­ can I exploit this? I wasn¡¯t sure how, but where there is a rule, there is an exploit.

    So¡­ what had we learned from our two scouts? There were farmable resources on the Mountain, but I didn¡¯t care about that for now. Lots of time to harvest them once the site was conquered. Lots of potential combat opportunities on the foothill with the bamboo, but I didn¡¯t care about that either.

    The game was pointing at the Heartless Clearing, saying ¡°Go check this out!¡± So we would. And that meant moving up into the mountain proper. I stroked my chin again, then hunted around in my storage bag for the crummy Miyuki costume I got a while back.

    We CANNOT WAIT to show you how it turned out. Now you can enjoy Rikka, Miyuki, Yoko, and Mrs. Hungry¡­

    We had met the charming Mrs. Hungry. Not sure how to recruit her yet, but something would come up. We had yet to meet someone named Yoko, so that was something to look forward to. And the expansion was apparently named ¡°Darkness Falls on Hidden Moon Mountain,¡± which implies something bad is going to happen there.

    On what planet could you have the elegant beauty Miyuki, the fiery Rikka and then that ancient Sadako looking Mrs. Hungry? No, sidetracking again. Time to relaunch the expedition. This time, I¡¯d invest¡­ mmm. Three orders. I¡¯ll keep one in reserve. Just in case.

    We returned to Hidden Moon standing directly outside of Fragrant Moon Inn. Which was interesting. Did the game mark our progress through the mountain? Were there fixed checkpoints that we could save at by entering? It made a degree of sense, given the apparent size of the map. On the other hand, it reflected a degree of competence and usability I didn¡¯t really associate with the Devs.

    I stuck my head in and asked if Mrs. Hungry was around. Apparently not. Check in later, or try to find her on the mountain. The bird-boned innkeeper kept bobbing his head and hopping around. I didn¡¯t linger.

    ¡°Rikka, Miyuki, lead us to the Old Temple please.¡±

    They made their respective barks and quickly led us up the mountain. I kept my scouts close by for the moment, as ¡°Scout the mountain¡± sounded like a multi-order job.

    The bamboo forest quickly gave way to pine. With the change in vegetation came a change in smells. The sweet grassy bamboo gave way to the spice of balsam and the warmth of pine. I¡¯d never been camping in my life, but somehow that smell made me think of campfires in the autumn.

    The pine needles were thick on the ground, forming an orange outline to the brown path we were trudging. The forest wasn¡¯t nearly as dense or solid as the bamboo. I could see the stars through the trees, and see the patches of darkness where the clouds covered them up.

    ¡°Does the sun ever shine here?¡± I wondered. Rikka and Miyuki slammed to a halt. I must have said that out loud, huh?

    ¡°Yes. Yes it does. But Rikka can only remember dusk, night, and the twilight before the dawn.¡± Rikka¡¯s voice sounded distant. Miyuki couldn¡¯t seem to bring herself to say anything at all. NPC moment. I sighed and waved them on.

    ¡°Never mind, never mind. When we bring it into my Sky Realm, there will be plenty of sun for everyone.¡±

    Versai grinned humorlessly when she heard that, but didn¡¯t feel the need to but in. She kept sweeping her gaze through the trees, lingering on the shadows. An unpleasant thought occurred.

    ¡°Rikka, can you jump from tree to tree in a stealthy way? Like, keeping concealed as you move?¡±

    ¡°Of course. Rikka hunts her prey in these woods.¡±

    ¡°Could you do that and keep up with our walking pace?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Excellent! Up you go. If you see anything nasty, counter-ambush it or alert us.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    I looked over and I swear Miyuki was looking sulky. She was fiddling with her home made grappling hook, deliberately staring into the forest.

    ¡°Miyuki¡­ you can go too.¡±

    ¡°Miyuki is as still as the forest, as swift as the wind!¡± I swear she had grappled a tree branch and was out of sight before I heard the back half of the sentence. She really loved that hook. Bringing her here was like returning a tiger to its mountain.

    Cool breezes stirred the air. Dancing on the wind were little flickers of light caught in the corner of my eye. They were never there when I turned to look at them. It probably should have been spookier than it was. I was more haunted by the story Mrs. Hungry.

    Those starving farmers and their hunt. It was unfathomable to me. Rationally, I knew awful things happened in times of famine. Rational or not, my heart was unwilling to accept that they couldn¡¯t just Door-Dash something. Walk to a convenience store if it was really desperate.

    It seemed to be the recurring theme of this place- there are hidden monsters, and humans that are as bad as monsters, and they all hang about here because they have a dreadful hunger.

    Hard to imagine. Hard to put myself in their shoes. Or sandals or whatever.

    ¡°Miyuki, why do you hunt on Hidden Moon Mountain?¡± Two stars, and her home map. She might answer.

    ¡°Miyuki hunts here because this is where her prey live.¡± Her voice came whispering down from the the trees above.

    ¡°And what is your prey?¡±

    There was a rustling sound from above, then I saw a tree branch sway a few yards ahead of us.

    ¡°The Hollow People.¡±

    We walked a little way further. I tried to think of who she could be referring to, and drew a blank.

    ¡°Who are the Hollow People?¡±

    There was another shift through the trees, then- ¡°The Hollow People are the people who look like humans, but aren''t. On the inside, they are demons. They are hungry ghosts and animal spirits. But they are not the worst of the Hollow People. The worst are the empty.¡±

    ¡°The Empty?¡±

    ¡°Yes. They look like humans and act like demons but inside there is nothing at all. They are without the six desires or the nine virtues.¡±

    I got the feeling she wanted to say more, but didn¡¯t know how.

    I let the silence pool for a while, then asked ¡°How long until we reach the Old Temple?¡±

    ¡°Not long.¡±

    We kept trudging. I suppose it¡¯s relative. When you have a body that can¡¯t get tired, nowhere is a long way away.

    We walked a bit further still.

    No, I don¡¯t believe that. This is, in fact, a long way away. It seems the temple is high up on the mountain.

    ¡°Here. The Old Temple.¡±

    The temple was a little bigger than I imagined for a run-down place like Hungry¡­ err¡­ Hidden Moon Mountain. It looked like it would keep two or three monks busy full time. Black tile roof that swept out far past the door, plaster walls, with thick wooden beams holding up the corners and giving shape to the whole thing. There was a wrap around porch, varnished but not painted, that invited guests in.

    The door wasn¡¯t even closed.

    ¡°Is it courtesy to take off your shoes when visiting temples here?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Rikka¡¯s voice came from the depths of a shadow.

    Huh. But that porch looks polished to a fine shine. Well. This isn¡¯t actually Japan, I suppose. We walked into the empty temple. There was a stone jar to one side of the room, with a heap of incense sticks next to it. There were a few cushions, and a bronze bowl full of clean sand to hold incense.

    All of which was ignored in favor of staring at the giant statue in the middle of the room. Sitting cross legged with his hands resting on his knees was Black Robe. It was a statue of the damned necromancer who snatched me up and sent me to the Tower!

 Weeaboo Vol 2. Chap. 15 Welcome, Welcome!

    I don¡¯t know how long I stared up at the statue. My brain kept going around in a very small loop- It looked exactly like the hooded figure that grabbed me and sent me to the Tower. On the other hand, all I saw of that¡­ person was a pale, boney hand, and a load of black robes that piled up into a hood on his? head. So this could be a statue of any freak in a black robe.

    Who was worshiped. And apparently protected travelers from a hungry mountain.

    Miyuki and Rikka both bowed deeply to the statue, then went and lit some incense.

    ¡°Rikka? Can you tell me about this¡­ being?¡±

    ¡°He is called Lord Welcome.¡±

    I staggered. Rikka kept going.

    ¡°He was a great sage, one who cultivated his character as much as his knowledge of the arts and classics. However, he also knew the cruelty of the world, and how much worse the cruelty of Hell was. He also saw the Hollow People, and it was he who said they must be sent to Hell as soon as they are found. Not to punish them, because they would learn nothing from punishment. They must be killed to protect those who still live, and to give the Hollow People a chance to be redeemed.¡±

    She paused for an uncomfortably long period. ¡°I am a follower of Lord Welcome.¡±

    Ah. What?

    ¡°Why is he called Lord Welcome?¡±

    ¡°Because that is what he always says when people meet him- ¡°Wellcome! Wellcome!¡±¡± She smiled slightly.

    ¡°He has become the guardian of those who travel dark paths and fight against hidden evils. Who sacrifice themselves to make others safer. As he did.¡±

    ¡°He¡­ sacrificed himself?¡±

    ¡°Yes. He said that his teachings had taken root, and others were following in his footsteps. He no longer had to kill the Hollow People and those who cloak vile deeds in darkness. They would be killed by others. There was a job only he could do.¡±

    ¡°Which was?¡±

    ¡°Saving those damned in Hell. Lord Welcome teaches that existence itself is pain, and that the greater we indulge in our desires, the more pain we suffer. It is the duty of the wise and righteous to relieve suffering and reduce harm. And none suffer more than those in Hell.¡±

    ¡°So he went to Hell to¡­ get out the sinners he sent there?¡±

    ¡°What would be the point of that? Lord Welcome descended to Hell to convert the sinners. To teach them and redeem their souls. The demons too- they embody suffering. All must be healed, all must be saved and returned to joyful oblivion.¡±

    I slowly shook my head, trying to make sense of it all.

    ¡°He went to Hell to chant prayers and teach sermons on virtue, slowly converting the damned. When demons and sinners attack, he uses his iron talisman to suppress them. When he finds children or other innocents who have fallen into Hell through some accident or evil act, he protects them within his robe. Keeping them safe and healing them with his prayers.¡±

    I could see it. It couldn¡¯t be the same black hood. It was a local God who just happened to also dress in black robes that completely covered his thin body. All except for his boney, nigh-skeletal, hands.

    The words ¡°No, really, you worship this creepy dude who is plainly evil?¡± clawed at the back of my teeth. Practically prying open my mouth, desperately trying to escape.

    She saw my face and, to my surprise, laughed.

    ¡°It¡¯s the robes, isn¡¯t it? And the hands.¡±

    ¡°Well. Yes.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a disguise. The hands are made, famously, from corpse wax and willow branches.¡±

    Rikka continued while I was glitching out.

    ¡°You see, he is a monster himself.¡±

    Can¡­ can my summons screw with me? I am certain Versai can, but Rikka¡¯s a Four Star. Is this a scripted bit?

    ¡°Yes, he is a sort of cannibal ghost. He would create illusions of a comfortable little home, and set it over a deep hole. If a lone traveler passed at night, he would create lights inside the illusion and invite them in. ¡°Welcome, welcome!¡±

    It has to be a scripted event. It just has to.

    ¡°Once they were trapped in the pit, they starved to death and he fed off their hunger and pain. Until one day, a wandering saint came by. Lord Welcome invited him in, and to his shock, the saint walked into the illusion, sat on a chair made of light and happily ate the food on the table.¡±

    ¡°Presumably while a terribly confused ghost stared at him.¡±

    ¡°No, Lord Welcome was also called to the table, and he ate too. Simple stuff- buns, rice, vegetables. But for the first time, he could really taste them. He felt not just full but satisfied. He asked the saint how this was possible, and the saint said it was the power of God.¡±

    I¡¯d swear there was some kind of vocal distortion when she said ¡®God¡¯, but since I clearly heard her say ¡®God,¡¯ it must have been an echo.

    ¡°With God all things are possible?¡±

    ¡°Yes, exactly! God can fill any hunger, and the food he has prepared is righteousness! The plates are before us, and all we have to do is stretch out our hands and eat.¡±

    ¡°And so he was converted, and changed over to a life of virtue.¡±

    Rikka nodded, her voice becoming soft. ¡°It¡¯s a story that¡­ connects for a lot of us here on the mountain.¡±

    It didn¡¯t click for me. I figured it would eventually.

    ¡°So. Monsters and Hollow People avoid this place because of the suppressive power of Lord Welcome.¡±

    ¡°Monsters and demons, yes, Hollow People, no. They know neither shame nor fear.¡±

    I shook my head and lit my own stick of incense. Just in case.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Could the hood and robes just be a coincidence? Not a lot of aesthetic distance between a Dementor and a Nazghul. Lots of things have creepy hands and all encompassing black hoods. The story rang a bell, but not a very loud one. I looked at the little charm I thought was a Jizo on Miyuki¡¯s belt.

    ¡°Miyuki, is that little charm related to Lord Welcome?¡±

    She shook her head, then nodded, then wiggled her hand a little and refused to elaborate. I looked over at Rikka, who just shrugged.

    Ah, there we are. That¡¯s the level of interactive storytelling I¡¯m used to.

    I looked around the temple once more, just to see if there was something I missed. There really wasn¡¯t. It was one big room.

    ¡°Where do the priests sleep?¡±

    ¡°There aren¡¯t any.¡± Rikka shrugged. ¡°Locals look after this place, when there is time.¡±

    ¡°And the incense? That¡¯s not cheap, if I remember right.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t. We should put a donation of rune bones in the jar for the makers. Again, a gift from us mountain folk. It takes a huge amount of ingredients to make a single stick of incense, a huge amount of time, and no small amount of skill.¡±

    ¡°Who makes it?¡±

    ¡°A woman named Yoko. She is Mrs. Hungry¡¯s daughter.¡±

    Ding! Now we have the full set on the table. Now¡­ how to rope them in?

    ¡°Do you happen to know where they live?¡±

    ¡°I do not.¡±

    Whelp. Guess that¡¯s that. On to the next thing.

    ¡°Rache, Rikka, use one order time to scout. You are looking for the Heartless Clearing and wherever Mrs. Hungry and Yoko live. Ask at the Inn if necessary- someone there may know.¡±

    ¡°Chromed Lightning!¡±

    Rikka¡¯s bark got lost in Rache¡¯s joyful shout. I was really curious to see the kind of place Rache came from. I mean, cavalry aesthetic meets ghost rider? Hell yes! But also, I have some concerns.

    I walked back out onto the porch. It was less quiet than I expected. The wind in the trees was surprisingly loud, crickets are really loud it turns out, and there were the occasional yips and howls coming from things in the woods. What quiet countryside life? It was as loud as the city!

    I reflected for a minute. I reluctantly admitted that it was still quieter than some places.

    Active building sites, for example, or when dance crews come with their boomboxes and put on a show inside a moving subway car. Or the sound of hundreds of cars all hitting the horn when someone blocks an intersection for two tenths of a second. Or the sound of someone pounding on your neighbor¡¯s door, yelling to be let in just when you were starting to relax and settle into your evening. Louder than the people fighting population decline in the apartment above you at ten at night, but quieter when they do it at three in the morning.

    ¡°Tower Master? Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± My voice was muffled, my face buried in my hands. ¡°No, I am not okay. Give me a minute.¡±

    I let the feelings ride me. That disconnect between what should have been and what was. I liked living in New York. It wasn¡¯t where I should have been born. I wasn¡¯t built for 3-D life. But if I couldn¡¯t live in anime, and Japan wasn¡¯t on the cards, New York was as good a third place as I could imagine. You can be whatever or whoever in New York. Nobody cares.

    It¡¯s not a bad thing, people not caring. Everyone gets that wrong. It¡¯s about keeping yourself sane.

    It sounds cold, and maybe it is, but it¡¯s the only way you can live piled on top of each other like that. You hear about people in other places talking about how other people just need to mind their own business. These people, the ones yapping? Never mind their own business. In New York, you live that. You have to. You go insane otherwise. Too much mental pressure from all the lives around you.

    You can¡¯t care about strangers. You can¡¯t go out without that armor sealed up. You check the energy and oxygen meters before you go out the door, mind them when you hit the subway, track their fall while you shop, and make sure you have enough for the trip home. Every social interaction knocks off a big chunk. Every unexpected noise. Every car that can¡¯t believe you didn¡¯t let them merge in after the light turned red. All take your oxygen and energy levels down.

    Are you getting stabbed in an alley? Sucks man. City is a lot safer than it used to be. You¡¯re just unlucky. Call the cops? About what? I didn¡¯t see a damned thing.

    Actually, you wouldn¡¯t even notice the stabbing. Your brain just learns to not look. It¡¯s much easier than not seeing.

    I loved New York. Almost nobody looked twice at me, and even fewer saw me. And I didn¡¯t have to see them. They didn¡¯t have to be real to me the way Naruto was, or Frieren, or Ichigo, Luffy, Shinji¡­

    I lived in a swamp of parasocial relationships, educated enough to know what was happening to me, and Millenial enough not to care. Or Gen Z or something, I don¡¯t know. I was happy, or happy enough. And now I¡¯m here.

    I let the emotions run over me. Sitting with them. Then I pulled myself back together. People were counting on me. How long had I been screaming at Shinji to just get in the goddamn robot? Too long not to man up and do it my-damn-self.

    I looked up at Rache. ¡°It is at least arguable that Attack on Titan is a Mech Anime.¡±

    ¡°Sorry Boss?¡±

    ¡°Me too. Rikka, when just about everything is a shadow, how do you choose which shadow to pop out of?¡±

    ¡°There are always degrees of darkness, My Lord.¡± She emerged from a particularly deep shadow under a pine tree.

    ¡°You¡¯d know better than me. What did you guys find?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t say I found a clearing, boss, but I did find more primo wood. Some mighty clean and sweet water too. Woods are crawling with banditos. Gonna have to tread mighty quietly if you want to slip past ¡®em.

    ¡°Rikka?¡±

    ¡°I found Mrs. Hungry.¡±

    Mrs. Hungry and her daughter lived in a shack. The shack was in a cleared stretch of the woods. You had dense pine, then brush, then a wave of tall grass, then the shack.

    It was a nicer shack than I would have expected. Bordering on cottage, I¡¯d say. Small, with a thatched roof, shutters over the small windows and a door of crude planks. What elevated the whole thing was the outbuildings.

    There was a worktable and bench covered by a bark roof, a solid looking well, a decent sized shed, several large gardens, racks for purposes unknown, and a fair number of shrubs that were clearly being cultivated. The whole thing was wrapped in a split-rail fence. On the inside of the fence was an attempt at civilization. On the outside was the tall grass, and danger.

    It looked cared for. Like the person living there was still striving. Curiously, it didn¡¯t scream ¡®trap¡¯ or ¡®predator¡¯ either. But then, what good trap would?

    The rail fence felt off. It was out of the aesthetic. Like a cowboy hat in a bowl of miso soup. Versai was reaching to swing open the gate when I reached out to stop her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t. Just wait.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°They see us. Give them a moment to make up their mind.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but¡­ why?¡±

    Because I vividly remember my uncle getting drunk one Thanksgiving and describing a breach of social etiquette he committed when going on a bachelor party weekend in the Ozarks. He capped off the story by stripping off his shirt right at the dinner table and showing off the fingertip wide bullet scar left in the front of his shoulder, and the much wider hole left in the back.

    You don¡¯t just go up to the front door. You wait at the edge of the property for them to see you and invite you in. I have no reason to think the same rules apply here, but if there is one thing I have plenty of, it¡¯s time. Time, and paranoia.

    Time passed. I can¡¯t be more precise than that. We waited and it seemed like a damned long while. A falling leaf caught my eye, and when I looked back, Mrs. Hungry was standing next to the door of the hut.

    Versai moved for the gate again, and again, I raised my hand to stop her. I nodded politely at Mrs. Hungry, and waited.

    Mrs. Hungry didn¡¯t move. Her long, stringy hair fell in front of her face. I still didn¡¯t really know what she looked like. Old, and not ¡°Oh, what a sweet old grandma¡± old. Something about her said that she had never once been squeamish about blood. She didn¡¯t move an inch, didn¡¯t say a word. She just waited. Watching us.

    Some time later the door opened and a cute teenage girl walked out. She¡­ I don¡¯t know what was going on with how she was dressed. She had on geta, those tall wooden sandals you see in some period anime. A long green robe kept the chill out. She had long blue-black hair that she held up on top of her head with a wooden pin, and the rest trimmed to bangs hanging down over her eyes. She also had a little netsuke on the belt of her robe- the same little Jizo that Miyuki now sported.

    ¡°Momma says you aren¡¯t from around here.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true.¡±

    ¡°Momma also says that you are trouble, but you are polite trouble.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s probably true too. At least, I¡¯m trying to be polite. Not always sure I¡¯m getting it right.¡±

    Yoko tilted her head to one side, considering that. Then nodded. ¡°Probably counts.¡±

    I smiled a business introduction smile. ¡°We haven¡¯t been introduced. My name is-¡±

    She started gently shaking her head. ¡°No, no thank you.¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want your name.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because you are going to die soon. Momma says that strangers on the mountain all die. If I know you, I¡¯ll have to carve you a funeral tablet. So let¡¯s keep on being strangers.¡±

    My mouth twitched uncontrollably. ¡°Don¡¯t want to burn incense for me?¡±

    She violently shook her head now. ¡°Look at the state of my garden. I¡¯m barely able to keep the temple incense in stock. The dead get some burning pine needles or something.¡±

    Well, that¡¯s cheery. ¡°Need any help with your garden?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Can I help you with your garden?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± I tried smiling again. It hadn¡¯t helped so far, but I figured it couldn¡¯t hurt.

    ¡°Because you are going to die soon. Very soon. Almost immediately.¡±

    I blinked at her in confusion. Then swore and spun around. ¡°UP AND AT ¡®EM! Versai, cover me! Everyone else, find the threats!¡±

    I yanked my knife out, looking desperately for where I needed to stick it. My head thrashed from side to side, but I wasn¡¯t seeing anyone in need of a tracheotomy. Miyuki, on the other hand-

    ¡°Miyuki sees the snake hidden in the grass!¡±

    Her bow snapped out, and lodged in something. I couldn¡¯t see it- it really was hidden in the tall grass at the edge of the trees. Whatever it was she hit, she didn¡¯t manage to kill it one shot. It started thrashing around, screaming. Then the arrow started its own high pitched keening. The noise. God, the noise! The ululation and the sliding tones, like a fire alarm and a penny whistle were doing unspeakable things to a theremin in the middle of a nightmarish slaughterhouse.

    The sound scared the Hell out of me. And I wasn¡¯t alone. From out of the tall grass, demons bolted out of cover. Monstrous cats, deer with fangs and claws, inky black imps that came up only knee high but were dripping with a purple mucus that screamed poison. They ran off, but they didn¡¯t run far.

    Since the ambush failed, they opted to just use numbers. There were twenty of them, six of us. They clearly liked those odds.

    ¡°See? You are not going to be any help to my garden at all.¡±

 Vol. 2 Chap. 16 Blender on the Mountain

    ¡°Fall back on me! Rache, work around the edges, high speed attack runs only! Rikka, get around behind them and attack from behind. Rakim, stick with me. Keep ¡®em off me! Miyuki, shoot to pin them down, but keep them alive for now. Shoot whoever is closest. Versai- Get them!¡±

    I have gotten used to shouting my orders very fast. There is still room for improvement.

    The demons came in all shapes and sizes, from prowling cats the size of a cougar to half bright meatballs with meteor hammers on their shoulders, clocking in at seven feet and three hundred eighty pounds. These guys hadn¡¯t missed any meals.

    Made you wonder what they were eating.

    Miyuki seemed curious too- she shot one of the ugly things right in the foot. The screams from the arrow were literally deafening. It sounded horrible. Like every bad thing was about to happen, all at once. I knew it was on my side, and I still wanted to run. The monstrous humanoid shared my opinion and tried to take off.

    The results were¡­ ugly. It turns out that the monsters weren¡¯t concerned about hurting their fellows. He fell sideways, screaming, thrashing wildly around him with the Meteor Hammer. The whirring block of spiky iron scythed through the tall grass on its long chain, smashing the legs of the demons trying to run. He took the legs of three out. Leaving them pray for the fast moving Rache.

    Rache was in her element here. Her ghostly motorcycle raced through the tall grass, her saber pointing the way. Then it skewered, withdrew, and hit the next victim with a trailing cut across the back of the neck. She directly beheaded a cat demon. It was trying to crawl away from the screaming arrows, the effect of two together was more than it could take. Its back legs looked broken by the meteor hammer.

    It took Rache one pass to put the horror out of its misery. One swing, and the cat was off to see Lord Welcome about reformation.

    Rikka was a little more primal about it. When she saw a downed enemy, she pounced. Literally pounced. Jumped on their back and got in with the kunai. I once heard that a kunai is, essentially, an evolved form of a medieval Japanese trowel. The small form factor and diamond shape works a treat for opening small holes.

    Watching Rikka at work, I could see the thinking. Some broke mountain peasant getting all his crops stolen and his fields burned by some passing Samurai and thinking how easy it would be for his little trowel to get planted in an eye or throat. And afterward? Who would suspect a peasant? Especially since the honorable Samurai have confiscated all the weapons in the village.

    She dug her fingers into the trapezius of some murderous half-human thing. Really wrapped her fingers around the tendons and thin muscles. She then leaned back, wrenching the neck open for the savage thrust. God, the blood! She had even calculated the angle of the arterial spray, keeping herself clean and the grass wet.

    Rakim was her usual composed self, for all that her new civvies were throwing me off. Her carbine was pressed to her cheek, her finger squeezing quick shots off. She had a surprisingly difficult time picking targets. Since she was on bodyguard duty, her instinct was to kill the closest threat. Since she was partnered with Versai, the closest threat didn¡¯t tend to live very long.

    Versai¡­

    I really need to talk to Versai. Maybe find her some comfy socks or cool jelly desserts or whatever relationship buffing thing I could find, because she is not okay. And I¡¯m not really sure why. I know she isn¡¯t, though. Not when she rips through the monsters like this.

    The speed hack- abusing attack speed for maximum violence. And these monsters weren¡¯t Versai¡¯s match in the first place. Step, swing, step, swing, each move accelerating. Whether she hit anything was irrelevant. What mattered was that it was an attack. She was just a little off on her distance. Moving faster and faster. Until her flashing white sword bit into a monster¡¯s neck.

    The overhead chop was the wrong angle for a clean beheading. The backhand blow that followed it up sent the head flying into the bushes. Then it was a whirling chop at something with three arms and no head six yards away. She was just a little off on her range. For now.

    Which was all fine, of course. It¡¯s what I wanted her to be doing. It was just¡­ the expression on her face. There was something there, something that had been growing since Gradden March. And I couldn¡¯t read it. I couldn¡¯t understand what I was looking at.

    Her mouth compressed into a thin line. Her jaw was clenched tight. Her posture, her every move radiated fury. It hadn¡¯t before. Before, she was competent, deadly, and doing a job. Now? Now something had shifted and she was venting her hate.

    Versai had been tortured to death by monsters so often, the number had become meaningless. She had a lot of hate to vent. But why now?

    The look in her eyes¡­ I don¡¯t know. I never wanted to be that close to other humans. I never wanted to see that kind of look on anyone¡¯s face. Not ever.

    It was like watching a stick blender massacre a crowd of aliens. She would step, then sweep low to hack into the back of a leg. Not going for the joint or trying to chop through the bone, just deep enough to cut tendons and blood vessels. Then as she rose, she would twist the blade and snap her body around in a slash across a hollow gut. A near-invisible step to their back, and the long blade would punch through their chest.

    I thought she would twist the blade on the extraction, but she didn¡¯t. It took me a few dead demons to figure it out. She was making sure her sword didn¡¯t get wedged by bones. Sure, she could break the bone and yank the sword out, but she was running a high speed operation. No delays permitted, and certainly no shut-downs, on this murder assembly line.

    God she was fast. It got to the point where I was struggling to keep up with her movements.

    The battle ended before it could even really begin. Versai was just too overpowered against a scattered group of unarmored, fleshy creatures.

    ¡°Moving even faster than before.¡± I said, trying to keep it light.

    ¡°Yes. I realized I was holding back. No more of that.¡± Versai nodded. A touch cooly, or maybe I was just imagining that.

    I looked at her, puzzled. Versai was not, in my experience, one for holding back anything. I ordered the battlefield cleaned up while I was thinking it over.

    ¡°No loot worth mentioning, My Lord.¡± Rikka reported. She handed over sixteen Runed Bones. My money had taken a big hit after my big shopping spree with the Gnomes, but she was right. Sixteen Runed Bones were nothing.

    ¡°I am looking at a decent stack of weapons, Rikka.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°None of them usable by us. They are all trash anyhow.¡±

    I tried to pick up a club. It popped out of my hands like it had been greased. I guess that hadn¡¯t changed. There was a trident on the ground. I nearly brained myself with it as it fumbled from my fingers. Then, as I was dodging out of the way of the heavy tines, I managed to kick it with my shin.

    It hurt.

    A lot.

    I am certain that my rocking back and forth taking deep hissing breaths while cradling my shin was very impressive. Regal, and reassuring.

    I heard a noise coming from behind me. Yoko was looking down at me. Literally and metaphorically.

    ¡°Not very impressive, are you?¡±

    ¡°Did you miss the bit where you said we would definitely die, and now everyone that tried to kill us is very, very dead? And we are¡­¡± I hesitated to say ¡®alive¡¯ or ¡®not dead¡¯ but decided to bluff my way out. ¡°We are victorious.¡±

    Insert wiping forehead meme here.

    ¡°Did I say you would definitely die?¡± She tilted her head to one side, finger at the corner of her mouth in a classic airhead pose. ¡°Hmm. I only remember saying that you would die. And everybody dies eventually. And that is definite.¡±

    ¡°Almost immediately¡± were your exact words. And then demons popped up behind us.¡±

    She tilted her head the other way, putting the opposite hand¡¯s index finger at the opposite corner of her mouth. ¡°But then, what is time on the mountain? ¡°Almost immediately¡± could be any time at all from the perspective of the mountain.¡±

    I just looked at her a bit longer. She didn¡¯t shift her pose. It went on uncomfortably long.

    ¡°Is there some reason you need to be right?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No. What¡¯s important is that I¡¯m not wrong.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the important thing, huh?¡±

    ¡°Mmmhmm. Well. Until your inevitable, impending, any-moment-now death, you might as well come in.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Could you introduce us to your mother? We met, but were never formally introduced.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± She nodded. Her bangs irrationally reminded me of some kind of industrial chopping machine. Like the nodding was turning the word ¡°Okay¡± into four equal chunks.

    She pushed open the gate and we walked up to the cottage. Mrs. Hungry hadn¡¯t shifted this whole time. Apparently, there had been nothing worth moving for.

    ¡°Mother, this is someone. Someone, this is Mother.¡±

    Deep breath, deep breath. La la la all is happiness and little capybaras of serenity, la la la.

    ¡°Liam. I¡¯m the Tower Master these¡± don¡¯t say girls, don¡¯t say girls ¡°women work for.¡± Nailed it!

    That got me a long sniff from behind the silver curtain of hair.

    ¡°What women?¡± The voice was quiet, with a little rasp to it. It wasn¡¯t just for telling stories, it seems. That was just how she talked all the time.

    ¡°These ones? The ones who chopped up all the monsters?¡± Could she not see through the hair? It couldn¡¯t be easy, it was like a wall in front of her face.

    That got another long sniff. ¡°Sure. Women.¡±

    Yoko coughed. ¡°Mother, you are being rude.¡±

    ¡°Am I?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, you just told me to say that if people started giving you strange looks.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Thank you dear.¡± Mrs. Hungry nodded towards Yoko. Affectionately. Maybe.

    ¡°Can we come in?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Her voice was so icy, I swear I felt frost forming over my eyeballs.

    But what did I say wrong?

    ¡°When you told the story of the pigs and the hunters, you mentioned Heartless Clearing. We are hoping to find that clearing and explore it.¡±

    Mrs. Hungry didn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°Would you kindly tell us where the clearing is?¡±

    ¡°I will.¡± Somehow I had the impression of a terrifying smile under that curtain of hair. ¡°One hundred heads.¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°One hundred heads. Demons or Hollow People. Deliver them to me, and I will show you the way to the Heartless Clearing. End the mountain¡¯s hunger, Tower Master, claim this place as your own, and my daughter and I will join your service. But first, deliver me those heads.¡±

    Mrs. Hungry was straightforward, but her request was not. ¡°Scouts, did you find one hundred demons and¡­ Hollow People, whatever they are, scattered over the mountain?¡±

    ¡°Yep.¡± Rache nodded.

    ¡°Easily four times that number with a casual look, My Lord.¡± Rikka didn¡¯t nod. She was doing the One-Knee Down, One Fist on the Ground pose as she reported. Both had their charms.

    ¡°Are they clumped together, scattered around?¡±

    ¡°Both.¡± Rache tapped her saber thoughtfully.

    I thought it through. I flat out refuse to send my troops out solo. I¡¯m not some dim anime protagonist. This crew strictly jumps people. Based on what we had seen so far, the demons here were weaker than a comparable number of monsters from the Tower, so there was that. But I was concerned about these ¡°Hollow People.¡± Humans with nothing inside of them? That sounds like monster shenanigans.

    Why was the mountain hungry? Why were all their stories about hunger and predation? Why was Mrs. Hungry called Mrs. Hungry?

    I reviewed the ¡®cast list¡¯ for recruitable characters- Miyuki, the Ninja Sniper. Which, when you think about it, is a kind of hunter. Rikka the very-explicitly-a-hunter. Of game both bi- and quadrupedal. Then Mrs. Hungry, who felt like an old, chatty, Sadako. Fingers crossed I didn¡¯t have just seven days to live until she crawled out of my ear and killed me. And last but hopefully not least, Yoko.

    Yoko seemed¡­ quirky but normal? Normal ish? My definition of normal is, admittedly, not universally accepted. She made incense and it was important to her that she not be wrong. Which was an interesting distinction.

    ¡°Do you think you can lure them into an ambush?¡±

    ¡°Dunno, Boss.¡±

    ¡°They won''t pursue forever, and they are used to both hunting and being hunted.¡± Rikka shrugged.

    ¡°So there is no chance of luring a bunch together and annihilating them all at once?¡±

    Rikka shook her head. ¡°If it were that easy, what would there be to fear from demons?¡±

    Valid. Irritating, but valid. Alright, hard way it is then. Irritation management. You don¡¯t want to micro a hundred battle encounters, do you? Why not just order your troops to go out and hunt for you. The mortality rate might be a smidge high, but if you buy our VIP 4 Tier Crystal Chest of Souls, you can get twenty free draws with a guaranteed Six Star every thirty draws!

    The funnel is always the same. Get ¡®em hooked with generous starting goodies, get them used to the time mechanic, then start rapidly scaling up how long things take and forbidding them from doing two things at once without paying real money for the privilege. It was a core piece of the freemium loop.

    ¡°Moo hoo ha ha.¡±

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an evil laugh, Versai. Suitable for one doing devious deeds.

    ¡°No, I have heard a lot of evil laughs. That sounds more like some kind of cultist chant.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the definitional evil laugh! Watch- Moo hoo HA HA!¡±

    Versai sighed and shook her head. ¡°Could it be a curse? Are you feeling entirely well, Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°I do feel a stomach ache coming. Probably due to the flagrant disrespect of core cultural tropes. Why have you heard so many evil laughs?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t bodyguard you from mind altering curses. Remember who I worked for?¡±

    ¡°Are you saying the Queen was evil?¡±

    She waggled an elegant hand. ¡°Evil is situational. She was a¡­ strong woman. Which was lucky, given that most of the people she had me fight really were evil. I fought one Knight who destroyed his fief. He killed anyone who tried to farm on his fields.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because his even-more-evil son had just died falling off his horse and after the funeral, people celebrated. So everyone had to leave, or starve.¡±

    ¡°Even more evil?¡±

    ¡°There were a significant number of unwed mothers amongst the peasants in that fife. All of whom have children that could pass as siblings.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°Mmm.¡±

    ¡°So what did his laugh sound like?¡±

    ¡°Happy. Innocent. They were his fields, after all. What could be wrong about leaving them fallow for a while?¡± Versai sounded creeped out.

    ¡°Nasty.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Then there was the Baron with the oubliette, the Dame who fed her grandchildren ground glass because they reminded her of a boy who rejected her fifty years before, ah¡­ there was the Second Deputy Secretary of the Chamber of Correspondence who the Queen ordered me to behead as a favor to the Secretary.¡±

    ¡°The Secretary wanted his deputy beheaded?¡±

    ¡°He wanted his son to have a quick, dignified death instead of death by flaying and drowning in brine that he deserved. It wasn¡¯t made public, but he conspired with some merchants to steal money and supplies that were supposed to go to refugee resettlement. More than six thousand died in the first month. He laughed like an asthmatic horse screaming.¡±

    There¡¯s an image I didn¡¯t need. ¡°Well. Good that he¡¯s dead. And speaking of expendable people dying-¡±

    I looked over my summons. ¡°None of you are expendable. So none of you are allowed to die.¡± No more Kim¡¯s. No more. ¡°So we are going to do this the most savage and ruthless way imaginable.¡±

    I looked across the dark mountain, looked at the inky blackness under the pine trees, looked at this demon-haunted world. ¡°We are going to be the hateful demon the developers fear the most- people who play all the content but don¡¯t buy anything, sign up for anything or watch any ads.¡±

    Versai gave me a ¡®patient¡¯ look. I smiled up at her.

    ¡°Rikka, Rache, lead us to the nearest monster. We are going to take them down one at a time. We will look at the terrain, their characteristics, who or what might be nearby. We will do it right. And then we will do it ninety-nine more times. Because there is one thing we do have. All the time in the world.¡±

    I stood, dusting myself off and grinning. ¡°Let¡¯s get to it.¡±

 Vol. 2. Chap. 17 Jumping The Dead Inside

    Jujustu Kaisen has its problems. Their commitment to jumping the enemy and group beatdowns is not one of them. It was always Naruto that was weird on that one. Early on they stressed the importance of teamwork, and then? Straight solo battles. Even Shikamaru, who really should have known better.

    Me? I couldn¡¯t run the ones even if I wanted to. And I don¡¯t.

    Miuki nailed the sallow faced man to the wall with a long arrow through the gut. He started screaming and thrashing, revealing the triple row of triangular teeth inside his mouth. His hands shedded off his forearms, revealing bone sickles. Sickles he used to rip himself open, trying to escape the whistling arrow lodged in him.

    Hard to say if it was the arrow or the screaming that made the other demons bolt from the shack. One went through a window, the other just punched through the back wall. The fellow who went through the window landed directly in a trap Rikka set, destroying his feet. Before his reverse jointed knees could hit the ground, Rakim put four rounds into his chest. Dead before he even saw who was killing him.

    The last, an orcish, or maybe Oni-ish, looking lady lashed out wildly with an iron club as she ran out the back. There were still scraps of meat hanging from it.

    ¡°VERMIN!¡±

    Versai¡¯s shield came smashing down on the Oni. I thought the Oni would block it- she had that huge iron club up, and had dropped into an overhead parry position really cleanly. I¡¯m not sure which of us were more surprised when Versai blew right through the guard and smashed the edge of her shield into the demon¡¯s head.

    Probably the Oni. It got knocked down so hard, the dust rose two feet in the air. Versai¡¯s sword whipped around in a wide circle, and a jet of blood soaked the ground. A flick of her blade to remove the blood, a quick wipe on the Oni¡¯s clothes body to get any lingering blood off, and then a casual sheathing of the blade that somehow looked more ruthless than her holding it.

    Versai extended a dainty iron-shod foot out, rolled the big head over and flicked it up in the air like she was trying out for varsity soccer. She snatched it out of the air by the horn.

    ¡°What¡¯s the total?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Ninety flat.¡± I was standing next to the wheelbarrows and porters. One hundred heads takes up more space than you would think, and Yoko was absolutely adamant that we couldn¡¯t just pile them up in her yard. Which is absurd. I¡¯m convinced she has cut a deal with the local laborers, because there were three guys with carts just down the path. All free in the middle of the night, and willing to work for ten Runed Bones each.

    ¡°Nice.¡± Versai tossed the head into a waiting cart with a casual flick of the wrist. There were two more bangs and the screaming arrow died down. Rikka roughly chopped the head off and added it to the pile. We had all gotten very used to this kind of work.

    ¡°Let''s see if there is anything inside.¡± I sighed.

    ¡°Hasn¡¯t been any of the other times.¡± Versai muttered.

    ¡°I know, I know, but you don¡¯t know if you don¡¯t look, right?¡±

    The hut was quite bare. Some futons on straw mats, a fire pit, a stack of empty bowls. I thought there would be gnawed bones or something for ambiance, but¡­ nope. Just emptiness and sadness. You could see the mats had been put as far as possible from each other. They were sharing the hut, but there was no love there.

    No secret compartments. No creepy symbols or eerie statues. Just emptiness. Just hunger in its many forms.

    ¡°Rikka-¡± How exactly do I ask this? ¡°Mrs. Hungry said there was a war and a famine outside the mountain, and that there wasn¡¯t much food on the mountain either. Is that right?¡±

    Rikka nodded, the long ponytail bobbing. I¡¯ve really been trying to not fixate on how my summons look, but damn did the ¡°Sporty Ninja¡± thing work for her.

    ¡°But I¡¯m not seeing any food. Like, not just not enough, zero food.¡±

    She nodded again.

    ¡°How does that work? I mean, people have to eat something and if there is nothing to eat, they have to go somewhere else, right? Nobody¡¯s going to wait around to die.¡±

    She looked away and crossed her arms. I waited, but she didn¡¯t budge.

    ¡°Miyuki?¡± But my lovely ninja sniper acted like she was deaf.

    I don¡¯t think it was game weirdness. This smacked of something else I smelled a mystery. Which meant that I was on the trail of the plot! I rubbed my hands together and laughed.

    ¡°Moohoohahaha!¡±

    ¡°Oh God, it¡¯s a brain worm isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Versai, I swear to Toriyama-¡±

    ¡°Last one?¡± I whispered to Rikka. She nodded. From what I picked up, killing a hundred demons was considered a significant amount, but was a long, long way from all the demons.

    We were set up outside the demon¡¯s lair. Which was an ordinary shack. The thatch probably needed replacing. Might be a touch of rot where the walls rested on the ground. There was a little woodpile next to the door, and a few stones making a little path up to the door. There really wasn¡¯t anything that stood out about the place. But Miyuki and Rikka were looking at the shack like it was the final castle of the Dark Lord.

    ¡°What kind of demon is it?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t a demon. It¡¯s a Hollow Person.¡±

    ¡°Which is¡­ basically a human?¡±

    ¡°On the outside. You will see, if we fail to kill it instantly.¡± Rikka kept her voice to a barely audible whisper, her hand thoughtlessly curling around her Kunai.

    ¡°Well, Hell. Can we just burn this place down? I¡¯m sure I saw some burning lamps at the Inn.¡±

    Rikka just shook her head. I grunted, annoyed. I¡¯ve watched enough Rainbow 6 playthroughs to know that the first to stick their head around a door is the first to get shot. Real operators go through the damn wall.

    Actually¡­ That works.

    ¡°These walls¡­ woven bamboo and then you pack in dirt and plaster?¡± Come on historical anime, don¡¯t fail me now! Peasant houses were built out of the absolute cheapest, lightest crap available, because everyone expected earthquakes and fires. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°The plaster is dirt, My Lord.¡± Rikka nodded.

    Thank you Lone Wolf and Cub, Usagi Yojimbo and Ninja Scroll! Two of you are useful right now, and one of you is Ninja Scroll. Mmm. Ninja Scroll. God, what a peak-

    I coughed and carried on talking when I realized everyone was staring.

    ¡°So you could smash straight through it no problem.¡±

    Rikka just blinked slowly at me. Clearly this was not computing.

    ¡°Versai, do you need to see the target for your discipline to work?¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡± She blinked her 90%-sure-they-are-limpid eyes. ¡°I really don''t know. It¡¯s intended to be used on things that are stronger than I am, physically, though there is a fair amount of flexibility there.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but do you have to see them to use it? Like what if they were on the other side of a curtain? Can you just launch yourself through the cloth and hope you hit something, or does the discipline lock on to the target somehow?¡±

    She just shook her head. ¡°Not a lot of curtains on battlefields nor dueling grounds.¡±

    Versai was the only summon I had with me who had a shield. She was, by any measure, my best door kicker. The problem was that fighting in close quarters is damn nasty, and I really don¡¯t like sending them somewhere I can¡¯t see.

    And Kim died when I isolated her group from the rest of the summons. I breathed through the moment. I can¡¯t dwell on what happened to Kim. I can¡¯t. I just¡­ can¡¯t. I need a head. This guy is apparently solo. Stop being weak and send them in.

    ¡°Rache, you are on the outer perimeter. Anyone tries to interfere, let us know. If our target runs, you harass and slow them down until we can catch up. Same as usual.¡±

    ¡°Chromed Lighting!¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± I am really curious about where she comes from. But I pressed on. ¡°Rikka, you are scouting around back, making sure they can¡¯t run out, or dive out a window or something.¡±

    ¡°The house has no windows.¡± Rikka sounded very certain.

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t see the point.¡±

    Well that¡¯s creepy.

    ¡°Alright, then you go in the stack too. Versai is in first. If you can launch Inherent Superiority at them through the wall, great. Do it. If not, kick in the door and rush the bastard. Get on him and stay on him. Rakim, you are second in. If you get a clear shot, take it. Rikka, you go in third. Your job is dealing with any Hollow Person weirdness that Versai and Rikka might have missed.¡±

    They skulked up to the hut. I wouldn¡¯t have heard them coming, but Rikka¡¯s face was in a permanent state of wince. Versai lined her shield up, then looked over at me and shook her head. Damn. Well. To be expected, I suppose.

    Versai kicked in the door, went storming in shield first, then went flying out again so fast, she smashed Rakim to the ground.

    A peasant holding a spear walked out of the house. He didn¡¯t have big muscles, or fangs, or an aura. In the dim light, he just looked normal. The spear struck like a snake after a wounded bird, trying to gut Rakim. Rakim got there first. The scout launched herself at his knees. I hadn¡¯t seen her in the shadows at all. Neither had the peasant.

    Didn¡¯t stop him from smashing her face in with his knee. Did stop him from gutting Rakim. The spearhead skittered along the side of her belly, ripping away at her new outfit.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand why we are fighting.¡± He spoke calmly. ¡°I¡¯m sure we haven¡¯t met before. My name is Saito.¡± The spear whipped up and around, smashing down like a mallet on Rikka. She stayed on him, trying to cut him, keep him off balance. The Hollow Person didn¡¯t seem to mind.

    ¡°Do you like radishes? I do. I haven¡¯t had a radish in a long time.¡± Rakim got her gun up and was firing from her back. The Hollow Person couldn¡¯t possibly have known what a modern battle carbine looked like. Didn¡¯t stop him from sidestepping quickly, moving to keep Rikka between him and the barrel. The spear didn¡¯t stop moving either. It was like a living thing. Venomous. It didn¡¯t have to land a lethal blow. Any blow would become lethal eventually.

    The spear whipped down, biting at feet, slicing at thighs. Then a thrust forward at the chest, or gut, or even just the arms. Then a bone breaking smash at a wrist, then up again to tear a throat open. It wasn¡¯t skill. It was convulsive power. The whole body driving the motion or forcing the spear to stop, reset, and attack again. Rikka got torn up trying to keep Rakim from losing her life. In six seconds, she very nearly lost her own.

    ¡°Vermin!¡± Versai came in hot. Her shield dragged her through the air like a comet. An omen of misfortune ready to crash down on the Hollow Man.

    The man spun around, smacking Rikka with the butt of his spear as he readied himself for the attack. ¡°Every morning I water my plant while I listen to the birds.¡± The thin body spasmed, and the spear shot forward. He aimed under the shield, looking to find Versai¡¯s legs or guts.

    In an instant he had disengaged from one enemy and launched a diabolical counter on someone ambushing him. No surprise, no fear, no hesitation. Able to use the full strength of his body without a thought for the damage he was taking. Making human noises, but the thought process was alien.

    He was human, but wasn¡¯t. Like something vital was missing from him. A Hollow Person. Mouthing the words he thought humans would say, mimicking human actions, without understanding the reasons.

    Versai sneered and swept aside the spear with a lightning fast chop. Before she learned her speed hack, that might have worked. Her heavy round shield smashed into the Hollow Man, and this time he was the one to be knocked into the dirt.

    Rikka fell on top of him, grabbing his spear arm and rolling it out. She arched her back and hyperextended the joint, then snapped it. Then drove her kunai into the elbow, making sure it would never work again. In the same instant, Rakim walked six rounds up his body, from crotch to neck.

    They froze, waiting. Watching. Rakim¡¯s finger twitched on the trigger. Every nerve tensed.

    ¡°CUT OFF HIS DAMNED HEAD! Good Lord, are you waiting for an engraved invitation?!¡±

    I kept my muttering on the inside, but it was furious. My hand to Josh, I¡¯m a peaceful man. A lifetime otaku. The closest I come to actual fights is sitting next to a Jets fan on the subway. Not because they want to fight me, I just assume anyone who needs tens of thousands of friends to spell J-E-T-S is prone to violent outbursts. Yet somehow, I had to be the one to remind them that the creepy monster should be beheaded.

    Sometimes a double tap just won''t cut it. You must behead. Incineration would be better, and cremation the best of all. But for some reason, this game was excessively pissy about letting me make fire. I¡¯d have to settle for beheading.

    I made a rare burst towards positivity. ¡°So. Are all the Hollow People like that?¡± I asked Rikka.

    ¡°Yes. All of them. They fight like their bodies were puppets. Ignoring pain or injury. They keep talking about irrelevant things, trying to blend in with actual humans. But the second you test them, you see the hollowness inside.¡±

    ¡°Test them?¡±

    ¡°Provoke them, tempt them, even just try to surprise them. If they aren¡¯t talking or just milling around with everyone else, they are almost impossible to find. You have to do something that moves the heart. When you see the big group react, you watch for the person who acts too slowly.¡±

    ¡°They fake the emotions they see everyone else showing.¡± I nodded.

    ¡°Yes, my Lord.¡±

    ¡°So, while understanding that they are creepy as Hell, what¡¯s the problem? If they are basically human-¡±

    ¡°They try to fill the emptiness inside of them with things they take from other people.¡± It was Miyuki who spoke this time. ¡°They don¡¯t know what they are missing, so they just take, and take and take. And they don¡¯t know how they are supposed to take things either, so they each try their own ways. Eating organs. Eating brains. Seduction. Betrayal. Murder.¡±

    There was something in the way she said ¡°Murder.¡±

    ¡°Miyuki, did you lose someone?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    She wouldn¡¯t say more. The porters pulled the wagons in silence, as we returned to Mrs. Hungry and Yoko.

    ¡°One hundred heads. As promised.¡± Yoko nodded happily.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t promise a damn thing. It¡¯s one hundred heads as demanded.¡±

    ¡°But you said you would go and get them, and a man¡¯s words are the same as a promise, right?¡±

    I looked at her for a long while. ¡°Mrs. Hungry keeps you close to home, huh?¡±

    She nodded, like it was all quite normal. ¡°Yes. I sometimes go to the Temple, and I¡¯ve been to the Inn once or twice, but mostly I stay home. There is nothing good on this mountain, after all.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense.¡± In a creepy, controlling way. I looked across the garden. I¡¯m not really capable of judging how well it was cared for, but it looked good to me.

    Oh damn. That was a blatant opportunity to say something slick. ¡°Nothing good on this mountain? No, there is you!¡± Straight from a dating sim. Or was it from The World Only God Knows?

    I sighed lightly. There was no way I could ever drop a line like that, even if I tried to play it off as platonic. Yeah, best not to wade into those muddy waters.

    There was a snapping noise in front of me. I looked over. Yoko was giving me a worried look. ¡°Are you alright? You drifted away there for a moment.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes, fine. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t fine.¡± Mrs. Hungry came out of the house. Still hiding behind the waterfall of her hair. ¡°You stink of emotion. A head full of twisty thoughts. Like a sickness, or a worm.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the lovely image?¡±

    ¡°Mmm. You are welcome.¡±

    ¡°Mother, you are being rude!¡±

    ¡°Oh. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Her voice was a raspy monotone.

    I clapped once, loudly. ¡°SO! The heartless clearing?¡±

    I was very ready to be done with this damned mountain. I could just go back to the Tower but the constant pressure to develop was on me. If I could clear this damned Relic Site in a day, I would. Every scrap of order time was precious. Every resource had to be grabbed.

    We only conquered Gradden March because I had that spell tower, and the exploits. And I only had the Tower because I had been able to earn, one way and another, three Frost Diamonds. Every resource counted, and the sooner I could turn it into power, the safer we would be. So. No dragging this out. No hanging around in my odd private quarters or lounging on my reclining throne while I tried to imagine every line and scene in every episode of One Piece. Mind firmly on the grind.

    ¡°Alright. Follow me. Once you see it, you can figure out what you are going to do next.¡± Mrs. Hungry sounded utterly indifferent to what that decision might be.

    Off we trudged. The woods weren¡¯t any more cheerful this time around. Mrs. Hungry got off the trail almost immediately. She would walk to a certain tree, carefully line up a branch with another tree, then head directly over. She repeated this process again and again, seemingly going in loops.

    I chuckled. Silently, because the woods really were creepy, but I did chuckle. How could I not? We were being led to a haunted clearing in a twisty, impenetrable, demon haunted forest by a witch and her revenant looking mother. It was something straight out of a horror story. If I didn¡¯t know they were recruitable characters, I would have thought they were plotting against me. Fiends wearing human faces, just repeating¡­ human¡­ noises¡­

    Ah.

    Ah Hell.

 Vol. 2 Chap. 18 Starvation Chic

    In retrospect, ¡°recruitable¡± does not explicitly mean ¡°friendly.¡± Lots and lots of games have you fight some god-tier enemy only to recruit them afterwards. Inevitably, they still have all the brain damage you gave them during your fight and now throw hands like a narcoleptic snake.

    Mrs. Hungry lead us through the woods like an implacable ghost. Somehow I knew that she would be more than a handful in a scrap, and her daughter probably wasn¡¯t anything nice either. I¡¯m thinking she is a support. Poison incense as a debuff. Something unpleasant like that.

    We kept following her, of course. What else were we supposed to do? The arrow pointing towards the plot was aimed straight towards the Heartless Clearing. I tried to put the pieces together, and they weren¡¯t fitting. Hidden Moon Mountain had fewer pieces to it than Gradden March did. Could I find more things if I searched intensively? Maybe. But I doubted it.

    Call it an instinct. Miyuki and Rikka weren¡¯t volunteering anything, and refused to be drawn when I tried to dig out more of their past. The number of landmarks were really limited. The resources on the mountain were all very straightforward. We didn¡¯t have the opportunity to pick up rewards as the clear progressed. This seemed¡­ not half assed, but like they were going for something very, very specific. I¡¯d bet it was about the new units, and, for lack of a better word, vibes. You get a feeling for these things by your twentieth freemium mobile game.

    There was that one game that I played for a hot minute called Reverse 1999. The gameplay was fine and the aesthetic was fantastic, but the story made me want to rip out my own eyeballs and sacrifice them in exchange for illiteracy. This felt like that- an aesthetic and mechanics served by just enough story.

    Except this game used real people, carefully pruned to fit the narrative requirements of this place. All their memories and personalities snipped, snipped, snipped away. Looking at Yoko and Mrs. Hungry, I wondered how much of their traumas, the horrors that made them, had been exaggerated. How many happy memories did you have to remove to make a monster?

    I looked over at Rikka. Her outfit was looking a little scuffed but not terrible. She got smacked around by the Hollow Person, but the monster never really got its spear into her. I could move forward with her in this condition. But just to be safe, I¡¯d set up a contingency.

    ¡°Rikka, Rache, with me for a moment.¡±

    We came on Heartless Clearing with an unsettling lack of drama. One step took us from the wood to a wide patch of grass. I¡¯ve never stood on a football field, but maybe they were about the same size.

    The Clearing was perfectly round and perfectly flat. I didn¡¯t trust it an inch.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you say the hunters were trapped here as hungry ghosts?¡± I asked Mrs. Hungry.

    ¡°They are.¡±

    I looked around, but couldn¡¯t see them. ¡°Let''s stick together and start¡­ The clearing is filling with fog.¡±

    ¡°It does that.¡± Mrs. Hungry nodded. ¡°Even if there isn¡¯t any fog in the rest of the forest. The cold fills the clearing, and with it comes the fog.¡±

    The clearing was so hungry, it even ate the warmth in the air. There was motion within the fog, clouds suddenly pulled into points and darting through the near impenetrable dark.

    ¡°Hungry ghosts. Hungry for everything. Food, human warmth, emotional connection, anything that can be consumed.¡± I kept my eyes on the moving mist, making sure I was never more than half a step from Versai.

    ¡°Yes. Mother says that¡¯s when you really become part of the mountain. That the Hollow People are even closer to the mountain than the demons that lived here first. The demons have more desires than just hunger, mostly. And the Hollow People don¡¯t.¡± I couldn¡¯t make out her face clearly in the fog and darkness, but I could imagine her serious face nodding along to what she was saying.

    ¡°A hungry mountain. And even though we haven¡¯t seen any sign of them, the monsters must be involved somehow.¡± I murmured. ¡°Do the Monsters eat people?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Though I don¡¯t think they do it to live. I think they just enjoy it.¡± Versai¡¯s voice was darker than the night. I didn¡¯t blame her.

    There were lights in the darkness now. Faint, flickering blue dots. Like fireflies. Or will ¡®o wisps.

    ¡°I keep coming back to the hungry mountain. All the stories about hunger. All the demons and people with their various hungers. Even the patron Saint of the mountain, Lord Welcome, was a cannibal spirit. But it¡¯s not Hungry Mountain, it¡¯s Hidden Moon Mountain.¡± I murmured.

    No need to scout, I felt. The monsters would come to us. I did make a point of keeping Mrs. Hungry and her daughter at more than arms-length. Mrs. Hungry didn¡¯t seem to care about the fog or the lights. She stood next to her daughter, her long silver hair hiding her face. Long arms hanging loose at her side. Yoko seemed to be standing casually too, but I was having a hard time making her out. She was just a blob in the dark, next to her mother.

    I half wondered if she was like an angler fish¡¯s lure- something pretty to lure in the gullible. But then, if you followed the route of the story, you would meet Mrs. Hungry first. Maybe she was supposed to inspire that White Knight instinct- rescue the pretty girl from her controlling witch of a mother.

    And then Mr. White Knight will look really surprised when she adds him to the soup pot. Quite possibly using the herbs grown in her own garden for additional flavor.

    ¡°Do you have a way to detect poison? Or some kind of immunity to it or something?¡± I whispered to Versai.

    ¡°No.¡±

    Well. That wasn¡¯t ideal. Maybe I should just¡­

    I restrained the urge to slap my forehead. I don¡¯t need to breathe. I don¡¯t have blood. What is poison going to do to me?

    The attack was perfectly silent. There was a twist in the fog, and a hunting spear lunged for Miyuki¡¯s back. She hadn¡¯t seen it coming at all. Rikka spun, knocking the spear point up with her kunai, standing between Miyuki and whatever was hidden in the fog.

    The spear retreated as silently and instantly as it came. We closed ranks. Even Rache, useless as she was when not in motion, had her saber out. My scouts had their heads in constant motion. Miyuki was right there with them, determined not to be caught out a second time.

    ¡°Yoko, any advice on dealing with the ghosts?¡±

    ¡°The sooner you handle them, the better.¡±

    ¡°How should I handle them?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I really couldn¡¯t say. Divine power to purify them? Finding some way to end their hunger? Perhaps enough violence might work.¡±

    There were an awful lot of hooks hanging from that ¡®Perhaps.¡¯ Which was a shame, because if violence didn¡¯t work, I was screwed. I have exactly one spell caster and I¡¯m not risking her being ganked by a ghost assassin.

    Kim could have given the weapons a flame buff. She could have been crucial. Damn, damn, damn!

    ¡°Yoko, can your incense drive them away?¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    I lost her answer, as two spears came out of the mist, one going for Rakim¡¯s neck, the other for Rache¡¯s belly. Rache made a decent parry, but the spear pushed through and ripped along the side of her hip. She yelped, and her clothes tore.

    My Awakened Souls didn¡¯t bleed, but the more injured they were, the more damaged their clothes got. A good sized tear over the hip told me that what landed on Rache wasn¡¯t a light blow. Which, since it looked like a glancing scrape, was alarming.

    Rakim had been walking with her carbine in the low ready position. She cleanly stepped back, brought the rifle up and fired in the direction the spear came from, all before the spearpoint could reach her. All comfortably inside of one second. She wasn¡¯t speed hacking. She was just ready for it.

    What she wasn¡¯t ready for was the follow up thrust. The hungry ghost jabbed out, not giving Rakim a chance to reload. She used her carbine like a short club, deflecting the thrust but leaving herself open for the next. That was when Rikka jumped in with her Kunai.

    ¡°Rebuke!¡± She swept the blade out fast. Her little dagger shouldn¡¯t have been enough to stop the spear, but the thing recoiled like it had been bitten. I could see the little netsuke at her waist glowing, but only for a moment. The spears retreated into the fog.

    I froze up for a second. ¡°Rikka? What was that?¡±

    She slid onto one knee, shivering. With a panting breath, she said- ¡°I am a hunter of Hidden Moon Mountain.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I know. But I¡¯ve never seen Miyuki or you use that netsuke to do anything before. Or use that ¡®Rebuke¡¯ power.¡±

    ¡°Netsuky?¡±

    ¡°The little figurine on your belt. Miyuki didn¡¯t even have one until she got her new costume.¡±

    ¡°I am a hunter of Hidden Moon Mountain.¡±

    ¡°I know. I¡­¡± Oh damn. It¡¯s her script. ¡°Rikka? Can you use that ¡®Rebuke¡¯ light whenever you want?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Does it work on Monsters? Like the monsters at the Tower?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    I silently sighed. I shouldn¡¯t be surprised. This whole scenario is a ¡°very special¡± collaboration with some eldritch fashion house, including the recruitable characters. Integration with the rest of the setting be damned. Horrible thought- did they find a ruined world and build from there, or did they build this whole place from scratch?

    I mean, the demi-plaines the Towers are on are way bigger than this mountain, so creating this setting from scratch wouldn¡¯t be that big a lift. But then, where did the people come from?

    ¡°Senior.¡± Miyuki¡¯s voice was very soft. Still cool, but there was something fragile and vulnerable in there. ¡°Senior¡­ on that day¡­¡±

    Rikka glanced away, unwilling to speak.

    ¡°Are the ghosts dead?¡± I asked.

    ¡°No, just driven away, for the moment. They are ashamed.¡± Rikka muttered.

    ¡°Ashamed?!¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    She did rebuke them, I suppose.

    ¡°Ghosts can feel shame?¡±

    ¡°With the power of the saints, yes. They remind them of who they were. For just a moment, they remember virtue.¡±

    The netsuke didn¡¯t look like Lord Welcome. It looked uncannily like a Jizo statue from Japan. You see them in anime all the time- the little bald guys standing on the side of the road, constantly praying. They usually have a round head and look calm. Red bib around their necks. Jizo-Sama looks after¡­ I want to say¡­ travelers?

    I rubbed my temples, trying to make the connection. This wasn¡¯t Japan. I had no reason to think that these little figurines had anything to do with the stories I knew. But something was yelling at me, and I tried to run the thought down.

    ¡°My Neighbor Totoro!¡±

    That got me some weird looks, even through the darkness, the fog and the creeping, murderous cannibal spirits.

    ¡°The Jizo statues, especially right at the end. There is an urban legend that Mei actually dies when she goes missing at the end of the movie, and the Jizo are a visual foreshadowing. Because the Jizo guards travelers, and the spirits of dead children.¡±

    You don¡¯t notice how everyone is constantly making slight shifts around until everyone stops moving at the same time.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen a single kid on this mountain. Younger adults, but no kids. Not one.¡± I took a deep breath. ¡°Rikka-¡±

    ¡°I am a hunter of Hidden Moon Mountain! That is all!¡±

    ¡°Miyuki?¡±

    ¡°I, too, am a hunter of sorts.¡±

    ¡°Yoko?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°How do you feel about children?¡±

    ¡°No particular way. I¡¯ll have some, someday, I suppose. Or perhaps not.¡±

    ¡°Would¡­ solving the Mountain¡¯s hunger affect that?¡±

    ¡°It very well could.¡±

    Ahahah. Haaa.

    I looked at the little figurine again. The longer I looked at it, the more differences emerged. It wasn¡¯t a Jizo. but it was close enough to make the connection. Which raised more questions for me, but it wasn¡¯t the time.

    ¡°The mountain is hungry. It feeds on the hunger of others. Mostly literally, but also emotionally. And it eats kids.¡±

    Miyuki looked away. Rikka did too. Her hand crept to her stomach. I couldn¡¯t throw up. Somehow, I still felt the sick rise up my gullet.

    ¡°It eats people from the inside out. Hollow People. And then there are the Hunters. How do you fit in? Because being a vigilante on Hidden Moon Mountain is about as useful as a fire marshal in Hell.¡±

    They didn¡¯t want to answer that either. Seemed like the ghosts weren¡¯t interested in waiting any longer either. This time it was a half dozen spears plunging out of the fog, cutting at us. I stayed close to Versai and let her do her job- guarding.

    There were yells as my summons fought back, but this wasn¡¯t going to end well. Ghostly spear heads ripped past Rache¡¯s weak parry and tore her up. Rikka was dodging well, and Miyuki wasn¡¯t helpless either, but she wasn¡¯t built for this. Neither was Rakim- her CQC training didn¡¯t include spear-wielding ghosts. I forced myself to look over at Yoko and Mrs. Hungry. Not a specter on ¡®em, though I couldn¡¯t see them clearly. There was a story there, or a trick.

    The spears were ganging up on Rache. I could make out the ghosts now, gaunt shapes in the mist. Almost naked, slouched, bulging bellies and xylophone ribs. Driving their spears with an unending need. Rache was losing clothes fast, which meant she was dying fast. My range-focused crew wasn¡¯t built for this at all.

    ¡°Versai?¡±

    ¡°I cut its hands, but it didn¡¯t seem to do anything!¡±

    Right. I¡¯m not eating a party wipe, and I¡¯m definitely not losing someone here. The Hungry Ghosts knew they were winning. They moved faster, thrust more wildly. Rache went to her knees.

    ¡°EXIT! EXIT! EX-¡±

    We were back in my Throne Room.

    ¡°Exit.¡± I let out a juddering breath. ¡°MEDICS!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not too complicated. Wasteful, but not complicated.¡± I smiled tiredly at Versai. ¡°Once we use up the orders invested in the expedition, we are immediately returned to the Tower. I couldn¡¯t guarantee it would activate in the middle of a fight, but it seemed worth taking a chance on.¡±

    ¡°How did you use up the orders? Nobody did anything.¡± Versai wasn¡¯t giving me a look for once. She seemed shaken.

    ¡°I told Rache and Rikka that if they heard me yell ¡°Exit!¡± they were to move any part of their body. Each movement was a separate order. They were to keep moving body parts until we returned to the Tower.¡±

    Versai snorted, and half smiled. It was a thin looking smile- she was still on what happened on the mountain. I didn¡¯t blame her. So was I.

    Ghostly enemies. What am I supposed to do about enemies that are immune to physical damage? Find supporters who can buff elemental damage, obviously, but with Kim gone, my only Support types were the Blue Roses, and they flat out refused to buff anyone but Carousel. In fact, it was better to consider them as a single entity along with Carousel, because without them she was just a decent mid-range DPS. And there was absolutely no way I could use all my all my expedition slots on Carousel and the Roses.

    I needed new summons. Or something from one of the shops, but right now, my pockets were almost empty and the expedition wasn¡¯t providing a steady trickle of loot the way Gradden March did.

    I threw myself back into my throne and closed my eyes. Did I have to just¡­ go straight to the next wave and hope for a good wave reward? I hadn¡¯t built any roads yet, and what''s-her-name¡­ Alliana, from Cutthroat Clothiers, said that roads were important. Would something change if I built a road out to the Mountain relic site?

    I couldn¡¯t see how it would help. But doing something was almost always better than doing nothing. Doing nothing was a Rascal Scooter ride to depression, and I¡¯d spent enough time in that gray room.

    No. I¡¯m freaked out, have no good answers, and one order¡¯s worth of time to get myself set for the next wave. I¡¯d give up on Hidden Moon Mountain until I had an answer to the Hungry Ghosts. And my untrustworthy allies.

    And speaking of¡­ it was time to clean up Gradden March a little. I didn¡¯t have bodies to spare, but¡­ what¡¯s the line? Better a godly enemy than a pig-like ally? He¡¯s more of an¡­ involuntary servant¡­ than an ally. No, it¡¯s the fable of the farmer and the snake. I don¡¯t want to be the one getting bit, and Osain was one hundred percent a snake.

    ¡°Carousel, come here please.¡±

    ¡°Other than Osain, who would be a good fit for the Economy Counselor position?¡±

    ¡°He isn¡¯t a good fit. Anyone capable of adding two and two and landing on an even number would be an improvement.¡± Her voice was wonderfully warm. And venomous.

    ¡°Do we have anyone who fits that description and isn¡¯t named Jim?¡±

    She thought it over, then shrugged. ¡°Leaving the slot empty might be better than filling it with an incompetent. To say nothing of the stain he will leave on the office. Jim won¡¯t do it?¡±

    ¡°Jim has refused any job in the Cabinet.¡± I spread my hands helplessly. ¡°He would rather punch a bag in his basement.¡±

    ¡°Odd. He wasn¡¯t a business genius, but I would have imagined he could see the benefits to holding an official position.¡±

    ¡°No pay.¡±

    Carousel¡¯s cheek started to twitch. ¡°Somehow I hadn¡¯t thought of that.¡±

    Yeah, I bet you didn¡¯t. God this game worked her over. Worked all of them over. It must have worked me over too, because I am only just now realizing that I can, in fact, pay them. I don¡¯t know if they can spend anything I give them, but I know summons can pick up Runed Bones from the battlefield and Sebastian is going to be collecting my taxes and rents. So presumably he can handle Sky Gold.

    I was drifting off again. I was trying to escape the conversation I knew we needed to have.

    ¡°So. Lay it out for me. What exactly did Osain do that was so awful that even you and Sebastian, two people who seemed to run a good piece of the Floating Quarter, want him dead?¡±

    Carousel tilted her hat back and looked me straight in the eyes. The languid seduction was gone. Rabid fury had taken its place. ¡°He turned people into animals, Tower Master. He turned people into animals, and sold them for every awful purpose you can imagine. I don¡¯t want him dead. I want him to experience a lifetime of agony, and I want him to live forever.¡±

 Vol. 2 Chap. 19 A Question of Charicter

    ¡°I am told the law changed four hundred years ago. At that time, if someone was ill, their family took care of them, and if they were addled, their family minded them, and if they were mad, their family took care of them too. One way or another. But the law took no interest, do you see?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t, sorry.¡± I shrugged.

    Carousel half smiled. ¡°To lay hands on someone is battery. To threaten them is assault. To lock them in a room without their consent is kidnapping. Unless it is a family matter.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Got it.¡±

    Carousel waved gently. ¡°The point is that the law thought of everything as between families, or duties owed to your lord. Well, and contracts and other things, but no matter. There was a plague, and everything changed. Whole families were lost, and the survivors were often addled. Mad, but more often cattle-brained.¡±

    Huh. I knew high fevers could cause brain damage, but this sounded pretty damn severe. No idea what disease could be.

    ¡°When you say cattle brained¡­¡±

    ¡°According to my old priest, the afflicted were simply helpless. Humans following animal urges without any wit and no family to care for them. Before the plague, you would simply drive people like that out of the village. They were too stupid to even beg. But there were too many of them after the plague. They would wander, damaging crops, walking out in front of horses or cattle or just dying in inconvenient places like wells.¡± Carousel smiled slightly. Again. It wasn¡¯t any more comforting this time.

    ¡°And the solution was?¡±

    ¡°They had no family to look after them, and no one would accept the heavy lifetime burden of adopting them. However, with attention, one could tie one of these cattle-brained people to a plough.¡±

    ¡°I suddenly have an unpleasant feeling about where this is going.¡±

    ¡°Four hundred years later, the law is still in effect. A person without a family and who is unable to care for themselves is legally an animal. None of the obligations one owes to family attach to their care, and obviously, their ownership may be traded.¡±

    ¡°And I was right. Osain is a slave trader.¡±

    ¡°Oh heavens, if it was just that, we wouldn¡¯t be nearly so eager to see him burn for an eternity.¡± She laughed. I think it was supposed to be charming. ¡°No, it is that he is making animals. A slave is still a human. An animal is an animal. Without that¡­ light inside of them that makes them think.¡±

    ¡°Oh, the feeling got worse.¡±

    ¡°Yes. People are found. Refugees, maybe, or a child of someone who cannot pay their debts. Or that person themselves. Someone who won¡¯t have anyone stand up for them. They are taken behind the red doors of his establishment, and by means of what I understand to be a modestly complicated alchemical draught and an ice pick, a person is turned into a thing. An animal. Capable of following extremely simple commands like ¡°Walk!¡± or ¡°Stop!¡± and not much else.¡±

    ¡°And¡­ you wouldn¡¯t use horses or whatever to pull the plough because?¡±

    ¡°Horses are expensive. Human lives are cheap.¡± She said calmly.

    Ah. Yep.

    ¡°But horses can pull faster and longer than humans, right?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes. Which is why you have lots of humans. There are lots of refugees, after all. And...¡± I could see her about to say something else, and snap her jaw shut. Must be the game interfering. Got to stay family friendly for the app store.

    That was fine. I knew the rest anyhow.

    I let a long sigh escape as I sat back on my throne.

    ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, it¡¯s not a particularly common thing to do. Horses and actual peasants tend to be a lot more efficient and the¡­ victims¡­ take a lot of supervision. A LOT of supervision. For some people, delivering that supervision is a benefit. It takes a certain kind of person to prefer this sort of arrangement.¡± Versai didn¡¯t look much happier than Carousel did.

    ¡°More common as the war against the monsters dragged on, I bet.¡±

    Neither spoke. They didn¡¯t have to.

    ¡°I wondered why so many people were willing to fight to the death in the Floating Quarter. I guess there were a bunch of reasons.¡± I was surprised by my voice. I sounded tired. I thought I would be outraged.

    Carousel nodded quietly at that.

    ¡°More in the last¡­ no. I can imagine it. The Marchioness saw it as a regrettable wartime necessity, turning possible threats to the public order into useful and productive members of the labor force.¡±

    ¡°Almost word for word what I heard someone say, my Lord,¡± Carousel¡¯s voice was bitter. ¡°the one time someone managed to point out in court that Mr. Gashben¡¯s ¡°Leisure Farm¡± was more damaging to morale than news of lost battles, while being infinitely less productive than his neighbors.¡±

    ¡°And Osain was the local ¡®merchant.¡¯ A nasty, smelly job done by a disposable person in the Floating Quarter. All of a sudden, I don¡¯t care that he was confined in a tiny invisible box and torn apart by monsters over and over again. I kind of wish I could send him back. Along with his customer base. What a pity none of them survived.¡±

    I reached out and shook the little bell. ¡°Sebastian, come to my Throne Room please.¡±

    ¡°Sebastian, realizing that this is going to sound insane, could you kill someone for me?¡±

    There was a complicated look on everyone¡¯s face. Sebastian himself went through a truly spectacular series of expressions, eventually settling on exasperated amusement.

    ¡°I suppose it would depend on the person and the circumstances.¡±

    ¡°Osain.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Him.¡± Sebastian had the most remarkable voice. Like a warm chocolate cake filled with razors. Then his face changed again to a sort of irritated wonder. ¡°No. No I cannot. And I don¡¯t think you can either.¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°Seriously contemplate killing him. Imagine summoning him to this room, pulling out my old knife and stabbing a hole through his rotten heart. Leaving his gutted flesh hanging from the rafters like a carcass in an abattoir and enjoying a glass of wine as the blood drains out. Leaving the peeled skin from his face pinned to the wall as a warning to anyone else contemplating such a complete moral collapse.¡±

    ¡°Christ Almighty, Sebastian!¡±

    ¡°Or just imagine killing him. Tower Master.¡±

    I shook off the original mental image, and tried to visualize killing Osain. It was¡­ hard. Even with everything I had seen and done. Even having killed the monster in Gradden March. The notion of grabbing hold of a human being, even a terrible one, and killing them¡­ This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    It was one thing watching Kirito turning people into vanishing pixels in SAO. Even as a power fantasy, it was sanitized. A show like Helsing or Black Lagoon or Drifters was bloody, but the blood never seemed to stick. If you were the MC and you killed someone, you might agonize over it a bit, but then you got over it. And then you carried on like nothing had happened.

    I yelled at Shinji to stop being such a pussy and get in the goddamn robot. I yelled at the people on the screen to pull the damn trigger already. A villain isn¡¯t going to just un-vilain themselves. Sometimes a protagonist needs to get their hands bloody.

    A lot harder when it¡¯s you, and the hilt of the knife is pressing into the small of your back. I took a deep breath, then another, then a third. The empty ritual comforted me. I closed my eyes and imagined.

    And opened my eyes again. ¡°What the Hell?¡±

    ¡°Just so, my Lord.¡± Sebastian looked like he was choking.

    ¡°Like, if we are casually discussing killing him-¡±

    ¡°Or stitching him to the floor of his shop of horrors and burning it down around him-¡±

    ¡°No problem imagining it. Stitching, really?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes. Just takes some very strong, very long, needles and a lot of patience, my Lord. He has wooden floors.¡± Sebastian apparently spoke from experience there.

    I sat up with a jolt. ¡°Does he have anybody in there?¡±

    ¡°No. I checked. First thing.¡± Sebastian hesitated. ¡°Second thing.¡±

    ¡°What was first?¡±

    ¡°Just standing in shock outside my own front door for the first time in eternity.¡±

    Fair. I rubbed the spot between my eyebrows. Economy was actually an important job. If you don¡¯t have a solid economy under you, you can¡¯t support your war machine. So I needed someone to at least fill the roll until an actual expert was around. I¡¯d have to try and bribe Jim. In the meantime¡­

    ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s a valid target.¡±

    ¡°Pardon, my Lord?¡± All the summons looked at me curiously.

    ¡°Osain is unfortunately one of my people. Like you. And the first thing I learned about violence in this world is that my people need a valid target to attack. Let me give you an example. Carousel, please fire a glass arrow out the window at a tree.¡±

    She looked like she really wanted to, but shook her head. ¡°See? Can¡¯t be done. And now- Versai, please stab Carousel in the leg.¡± Versai really, REALLY wanted to, but she also shook her head.

    ¡°Sorry, Tower Master. I can¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. No intentional friendly fire, because they aren¡¯t valid targets. Can I release Osain from my¡­ let''s go with ¡®employ?¡¯¡± I tried to will it to happen. ¡°No, no I cannot.¡±

    I drummed my fingers. More mechanics. Interesting, interesting. I tried to imagine stabbing Sebastian, and ran into the same total blank. That complete certainty that what I wanted to do was so impossible, I couldn¡¯t even marshal my muscles to try.

    ¡°Sebastian, could you imagine killing me? Seriously, I mean?¡±

    ¡°No, Tower Master, I cannot.¡±

    ¡°Mmm.¡±

    Very interesting. Sebastian had been a dungeon monster for a while, and had held me at knifepoint. He absolutely would have killed me then. Yoko and Mrs. Hungry were presumably in the same state. Was there a way to use that fact? Not sure.

    ¡°Alright, we can¡¯t kill him. Can we lock him up?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ suppose so. I don¡¯t feel any inhibition about doing so.¡± Sebastian said.

    ¡°Good!¡± I opened the interface for my Council and removed Osain from the Economy position. Various horrors flashed through my mind. Chaining him to the bottom of the sewer, with just his face above the surface. Having an oubliette installed. The Room of Ten Thousand Rats.

    Something was building in me. I knew what they were describing was real. I could absolutely see people, maddened by an endless war, under constant threat of extermination, turning helpless people into animals. Just for the sheer power of it. Just to be the monster.

    And here I was. In the perfect position to be the monster. And with a little care, I could keep Osain alive and in agony, forever. Actually, if I used my brain for four consecutive seconds, it would be childishly easy to arrange a fatal ¡®accident.¡¯ Versai had mentioned that she drowned once, despite not needing to breathe. There was a river of sewage right there. The dots hardly needed connecting.

    And not only would nobody tell me ¡°No,¡± they would cheer. I would be the hero, delivering justice one gulp of turdwater at a time.

    ¡°Find a closet somewhere and nail the door shut.¡±

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t starve, doesn¡¯t need to use the bathroom, doesn¡¯t sleep, doesn¡¯t even get tired standing around. He can¡¯t even go crazy, or at least, I don¡¯t think he can. So shove him in a closet and nail the door shut. Pick a closet he can¡¯t break out of.¡±

    ¡°Tower Master is merciful.¡± Sebastian hid his disapproval. Carousel didn¡¯t.

    ¡°Two votes for the Room of Ten Thousand Rats, hmm?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure my Lord¡¯s arrangement is appropriate.¡± Carousel¡¯s voice was brittle in its courtesy.

    I tried to think about how I would explain it, and I just¡­ I didn¡¯t have a better reason than ¡°I¡¯m softer than a microwaved marshmallow in real life, and the thought of eternally torturing someone makes me sick.¡±

    That I had spent a life being called a creep and made my peace with it because I knew I had never really hurt someone else. Until Kim. And that was arrogance and carelessness, not something I wanted.

    ¡°Noted. If a better option comes up, we¡¯ll look into it. Get to it.¡± I forcefully changed the topic. ¡°Sebastian, what does our current tax revenue look like?¡±

    ¡°Modest, my Lord, but I think you may mean ¡°profit,¡± here. Which is nil, unfortunately. We are paying out vastly more than we are bringing in, spending down the treasury at an alarming rate. That will stabilize once we start bringing in more resources and can start mobilizing the internal economy. At the moment, I am not collecting rent as a way to offset what we should be paying our laborers.¡±

    ¡°Well damn. Set aside half a percent of revenue for the moment, just to build a reserve. We need to figure out how to pay you all, and that means budgeting for it. Tell Jim that I need someone for the econ job, which now pays and is unlikely to eat up much of his punching practice time. All the councilor jobs are being paid. He¡¯s invited to join now, before the salaries are set, which means he will be in a position to help set his own salary.¡±

    Sebastian brightened up at that. ¡°Yes, my Lord. I will see it all done.¡±

    I dismissed them and reclined the throne. God, what a mess! And it wasn¡¯t even my mess! What was that thing some of my clients talked about? Inherited liabilities? Something like that. When you bought a company, you also bought all of its debts. I ¡®inherited¡¯ the money making operation known as the Gradden March Floating Quarter, and everything that came with it.

    I sighed. Should I move people around? Sebastian I could slot almost anywhere- the combination of aristocrat, mafia don and spy with a history of military service made him a Swiss Army Knife of a Councilor. Madame could actually also fill in for military, as she served in the Royal Mage Corps. To say nothing of economy or her current development role. Even Seneschal- she managed an awful lot of people.

    Versai and Jim were a lot more limited in their role filling options, especially since neither seemed to want to manage people. Versai became a bodyguard rather than work as a squad leader, and as far as I can tell, all of Jim¡¯s employees are his kids.

    Vicious psychopaths that they are. Hard to imagine any of them fixing a Tiki drink.

    I had a manufacturing site, essentially, in Gradden March. Hidden Moon Mountain would be a raw material site. It couldn¡¯t supply all the materials that Gradden March could use, but it could supply a lot.

    Roads. Alianna said I needed roads. Well, I have a road building pack and one order left.

    ¡°Marci, how long would it take you and the Judiths to build a road from here to the Gradden March relic site?¡±

    I have no idea how that works. Is it connected to the Sky Realm somehow? Is there even anything physically there?

    ¡°You have all the materials we need. Given the size of our crew? We can do it in one.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    She just looked at me. The imaginary unfiltered Lucky Strike hanging from her lips twitched at me in contempt.

    ¡°Well, what are you waiting for? Let¡¯s see what linking the site to the Tower will do!¡±

    And then it will be time to fight the wave. But that¡¯s fine. I have so many fun things to try. And so much frustration to vent.

    I don¡¯t regret trading orders for my life. I am a little irritated that I had to. But I really don¡¯t know what I should have done differently.

    ¡°Just need to lay the last stone, Tower Master.¡± Marci gave me a look. Well, she always gave me a look, she existed in a state of perpetual professional irritation.

    ¡°All Awakened, to your battle stations!¡±

    ¡°Our what now?¡± Marci¡¯s look intensified.

    ¡°Battle stations. It¡¯s where you are supposed to be during the battle.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have any.¡±

    ¡°What? Yes you do.¡±

    ¡°No, she¡¯s right. You generally tell us all exactly where to stand.¡± Versai butted in. Carousel nodded over her shoulder.

    Once again, a beautiful moment was sabotaged. Goddess protect my sanity, because it must be fraying by now.

    Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Okay, back in it.

    I told them all exactly where to stand. The battle plan and the field layout had undergone a certain degree of refinement after the last battle. No more linear tracks, it was all about scattering and confusing them, hurting them with small traps and forcing hidden units to reveal themselves. Like the pins in a pachinko machine- the little homicidal balls would bounce around a lot before reaching my now alarmingly deep moat and glass-smooth stone walls.

    With a few seemingly open places in easy artillery range. Because blowing up groups of monsters will never not be satisfying.

    I looked over everything from my balcony. We were ready. ¡°Workers-finish the job, then into your bunker!¡±

    Oh yes. My workers had a bunker now. A bunker called ¡°Huddling under an overhang from the Rampart, in easy sprinting distance of the front door.¡± I¡¯d do better tomorrow. It¡¯s the Tech Bro way- come up with a cool name, push out a borderline-broken first iteration, and swear blind that version two will be better, as long as the funding is there.

    Marci and the Judiths shoved the last paving stone into place. My battlefield now had a road running through it, but practicality be damned, I made them snake it through the barricades and traps. No pit traps or anything on the road itself, of course, but I¡¯d rather blow up the road and rebuild every night than leave a literal clear path for the monsters.

    There was a little flash of white light, and a gentle *ding* sound. And that was it.

    ¡°Any pop ups? Rewards for completing my first road?¡± There was nothing. The sun was setting quickly, drawing down the curtain of the night. Maybe literally in this world.

    There was another *ding* from behind me. ¡°Rache, Rikka, scout for enemies and mark them. Artillery, fire at whoever is closest.¡± I turned to go see what was making the noise.

    My realm management interface was flashing at me. I looked over at it, and tapped the glass.

    Gradden March road link established. 800 Rune Bones/Wave, Provides Workers for connected resource sites. Develop your Sky Realm to unlock even more benefits!

    Wait. Wait. Wait just a goddamn minute. I can use workers from Gradden March to farm resources? Is that just for my Sky Realm, or can I use them here at the Tower? What about resources from other Relic Sites? I thought they would all be next to each other in the Sky Realm. Do I also need to link them to the Tower? Or is it the linking to the Tower that generates benefits for the Tower instead of for the Sky Realm?

    A roar shook the windows of the Tower. It took a hideously mutated throat to produce both bone shaking base and a piercing high pitched scream at the same time. I rushed to the balcony and looked out. There was a Giant sized monster smashing its way out of the forest. Not as big as the titans at the end of the Gradden March battle, but almost halfway there. It had two heads- a misshapen tiger and a mutilated bird- coming out of its broad shoulders. It looked like a preview of Hell.

    ¡°I do not have time for this. Miyuki, shoot that ugly thing. Versai- bring me two heads!¡±

 Vol. 2 Chap. 20 The Eighth Wave Wants to Rush

    Whistling arrow Miyuki- so long as the creature she shot was still alive, her arrow would make a horrifying whistling sound. So horrifying, it scared the monsters. The more monsters she nailed in place with an arrow, the louder the noise would be.

    Which led me to wonder- what would happen if she shot a giant monster? I doubted she could pin it to the ground at long range, but would the extra size and vitality have the same effect as pinning several monsters? It turned out that the answer was ¡°No.¡±

    It was even louder.

    Like an air raid siren on a sunny day in August. Like a scorpion crawling over your eye. Like waking up paralyzed and feeling the rats starting to eat you. The dogs are chasing you down the alley, and there is no way you can jump that fence. Terror. Not horror, but terror- the active need to flee, to escape what was coming. It reached through your ears and squeezed the hindbrain. All those juices, all that adrenalin flooding your body. Numbing the pain and telling you to run while you still can.

    It worked on me. I can¡¯t imagine what it was doing to the lesser monsters. Miyuki¡¯s long arrow caught it just below the clavicle. The two headed giant wasn¡¯t calm about it either. Tiger and bird both screamed and started bolting away from the Tower. I smiled, but only for a moment. The giant didn¡¯t get far. I could see the unwillingness in its body language. Something was compelling it. Whatever instinct drove the monsters to attack the Tower was driving it too.

    ¡°Miyuki, I didn¡¯t say only shoot it once! Keep firing until it¡¯s dead or I say otherwise.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my Lord!¡±

    No way the wave is just one monster. Is the sound really driving away all the others? Or was this guy supposed to be a wall-breaker and way-maker for a wave coming behind him? Got to be the latter, right?

    Miyuki¡¯s next arrow slammed into the beast. I thought it was going to catch the bird head dead on, but the monster slipped the shot and caught the yard long arrow right between the two heads.

    This was not received well by the monster. The hideous thing collapsed on the ground and thrashed. Trees exploded into clouds of splinters, into shrapnel that scythed through the woods. The beast clawed at its body, trying to rip out the arrows, or at least distract itself from the noise.

    God, the noise!

    Loud. Shockingly, shatteringly loud. Overwhelming any nuance or variation, the screaming whistle of the arrows were agonizing. The urge to run from the sound electrified my muscles. I could feel myself twitch. Feel my body trying to escape before my brain could overrule it.

    I heard the artillery fire. I cranked my head around and saw Steelheart Pomoroi firing with her usual elan. There were targets marked in the woods. She had her orders. What¡¯s a bit of noise to an old cannoneer?

    ¡°Give ¡®em Hell, Pomoroi!¡± I shouted to keep my spirits up, to stay in the fight

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree!¡± Pomoroi agreed. She hadn¡¯t ever run from a fight in her life. Or in death. She had a cannon beneath her. Her Emperor was behind her. The enemy was before her. Everything was just how it should be. She tugged the lanyard, and her little cannon roared. I roared with it.

    ¡°Contact front left!¡± Rakim shouted, her carbine up and in action. I swung my head around, trying to see. Were they murder baboons? No. Something I had been expecting for a while but hadn¡¯t seen yet. Speedy units. They looked like they got more of the wolf in the wolf-bat hybrid that made up the faces of the basic monsters. Bigger than the murder baboons, but a lot smaller than standard monsters.

    I watched them zip around and felt a sudden sense of calm.

    ¡°Boy, you guys picked the worst time to come over, huh?¡±

    They zipped through the scattered barricades, looking for all the world like the winners of Satan¡¯s Own Agility Contest for pure-breed Monsters. A few ran into traps and were killed on the spot, but most were able to dodge around the obstacles. I felt like quietly applauding. They were working hard.

    What a pity there was now a giant, perfectly smooth stone wall to get over. Not to mention the unreasonably deep dry moat. Unless this thing had the proportional jumping capabilities of a flea, I wasn¡¯t worried.

    One of them ran up to a wall and without breaking stride, hurdled it. It was impressively casual for a monstrous offense to all living things. I had a brief freak-out until I realized that it was only clearing ten feet. And my wall/moat? That was a much, much bigger jump.

    Calm and serene. Calm and serene. Calm and¡­

    My God. There are hundreds of them.

    My eyes couldn¡¯t keep track of all the dog-sized monsters. They swarmed in from the sides, keeping as far as possible from the giant. Moving with eerie grace, they filtered through the obstacles. The few lost to pit traps hardly put a dent in their numbers. More and more and more of them every second.

    ¡°Miyuki, never mind the giant, start nailing together some of those quick monsters. Alternate edges of the field, drive them to the middle. Artillery! When you see a big clump of the speedy guys, shoot it! Hold your fire until then.¡±

    Deep breath.

    ¡°Corporal Mika, the second those fast little guys start hitting your extreme range, pop Tower Wall and go full speed! Do not wait on this! Carousel, Glass Arrow until we have a lot of targets at the base of the wall, not before.¡±

    Deep breath. Long exhale. Let the old habits soothe you. God, there were so many of the fast monsters. They ripped across the battlefield, kicking up puffs of dirt behind them. They leapt over obstacles with an uncanny grace. Smooth. It looked like water arcing out of a hose. All these rivulets of monsters, running down towards me. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    None of them were exploding, at least. Or spitting acid or anything like that. Just fast.

    ¡°Anybody seeing any of those murder baboons? Any stealth units? Anyone?¡±

    I got lots of shouted ¡°No¡¯s¡± in reply, in varying forms. One less thing to worry about. No armored units either. Or normal monsters, for that matter. I was getting worried about Versai. She was Hell on wheels against single targets, but she was vulnerable to getting swarmed. There were an awful lot of those fast monsters around. Sure sounded like a swarm to me.

    There was a flash of gore at the edge of the clearing. More like a traveling line of exploding blood and viscera, winding its way through the barricades towards the two headed giant. I blinked. Squinted. Blinked again. Then slowly rested my head against the railing of my balcony. I consider myself pretty smart. But I will admit. Sometimes. Rarely. I do, occasionally, miss things.

    Versai¡¯s speed hack relied on her making an attack from outside of its normal range, and missing. She had been working at overcoming her mental limitations on things like how fast a human could move. I¡¯d bet the notion of deliberately attacking from too far away had been doing her head in too. But now she was in a target rich environment. She understood my tactics. That she didn¡¯t need to kill each monster, just wound or slow them.

    There were hundreds of speedy monsters, which meant there were hundreds of opportunities to accelerate. And each swing would be a hit.

    Like a scene in a movie where someone lights a trail of gunpowder or gasoline. She was moving too fast for me to track when she finally hit the giant. She went for the fingers. I only found that out because the two heads screamed and jerked upright, one mutilated hand spraying blood over the field. Then she went for the back legs.

    I swear I could hear those heavy hamstrings snap from across the clearing. I sure heard the monster¡¯s voices find new octaves of pain. The monster was simply too big for Versai to land a single killing blow on it. She had to work her way up and over. So she did. Red-black blood went flying in arcs around the huge body. Chunks of meat. Monstrous skin and bone left scattered on the battlefield.

    Versai was enjoying this. I could tell. Whatever the psychological pressures were, the sheer fact that she could now make the monsters the victims of an one-sided slaughter brought her true joy. And if they knew pain and terror before they died, so much the better.

    I looked away from the giant. The only question now was if the wave was going to send in a second big guy, or stick with even more speedy types.

    It was fascinating, in a horrible way. The dog sized monsters were rushing in and filtering through the barricades in such insane numbers, it looked almost like a mathematical model. A graph demonstrating distribution, or how things will sort themselves into a Bell curve.

    ¡°Mika holds the line! Mika holds the line!¡± Corporal Mika had the Shield Tower up and running. She had a target rich environment, a squad of Mikas, and no hesitation whatsoever about putting a bolt in a monster¡¯s face. The bolt-storm just shredded the speedy monsters.

    Corporal Mika understood my tactical doctrine- you don¡¯t need to kill the monsters immediately, you just need to wound them. So each speedy monster got one bolt apiece. This did actually kill most of them, and the ones it didn¡¯t kill were barely crawling afterward. The Mikas went on cooldown all too soon, but they left a nightmare of strewn bodies and crawling heaps of mutilation behind them. And hundreds more to come.

    The dog-sized monsters weren¡¯t very heavy. They still managed to trample some of the wounded to death.

    ¡°Carousel, when they hit the moat-¡±

    ¡°Yes, my Lord.¡±

    It didn''t take long for them to reach us. They ran, springing with each step. Galloping closer and closer. They reached the edge of my now alarmingly deep moat, and jumped forward into the void. The moat was pretty damned wide too, but the monsters had a hell of a jump. There was a solid rain of thuds as they slammed into the wall- and bounced off again.

    My heart went into my throat for a minute as they started to climb. Metaphorically, anyway. I managed to breathe again when they started sliding down the wall. They couldn¡¯t stick to the wall, and while they could get worryingly far jumping and scrabbling upward, the power of friction wasn¡¯t unlimited.

    I laughed. Gottem. A whole wave and they were helpless against my walls. A feeling of unprecedented safety washed-

    Is that little creep¡­ digging, the monsters are digging!

    ¡°CAROUSEL, FINAL REVEL RIGHT THIS GODDAMN SECOND!¡±

    The occult, wailing chants from the Blue Roses were already rising in full throat, their dresses spinning madly and their long sleeves flying as they orbited Carousel. Carousel was drawing down the magic with long, elegant fingers and waves of her magic staff. The shimmering gasoline slick magic formed, as though it was leaking from some outside world into the clean air around my Tower.

    The monsters kept launching themselves into the moat as the spell spread out. The wounded died pretty quickly- the spell had a way of necrotizing wounds, making them rot and collapsing the muscles and fascia around them into sludge. Festering. There¡¯s a word I only associate with wounds.

    Final Revel made the monster¡¯s wounds fester as they spun and shambled around, howling and biting at each other. Around and around and around, as they got sicker and weaker. Even the ones that weren¡¯t injured eventually rotted to death in a burst of ecstatic madness.

    Every second, more and more of the wolflike horrors with their too-human hands for paws rushed into the moat, hit the cloud of magic, and died. Rakim was shooting down into the mix, with my blessing. Miyuki was building screaming fences, driving the monsters together in the middle of the field. Where my Pomoroys and Radz butchered them. It was a charnel house, industrial in scale.

    Two enormous heads, hideous, twisted in pain and horror, landed with dull thuds on the Rampart.

    ¡°Rakim! Throw Versai a rope!¡±

    I couldn¡¯t believe we were still using a knotted rope. At the very least we should have a rope ladder. Even a wooden ladder on rails we could raise and lower. Something, anything, better than a rope! Well. That could be a later-tonight thing.

    Final Revel wound down. Just in time for the Mikas to shake off their weakness and start picking off the wounded. I looked across the field, trying to find Rache and Rikka. They would usually filter in once the woods were clear. No chance of spotting Rikka directly, of course, but you could see where a monster both stepped into a pit trap and got their head smashed in by a sling stone. Inferring presence without seeing it directly.

    They weren¡¯t in yet. There were still smoke plumes rising all over the forest. That was not good. I was used to the monsters coming in clumps, spaced a few minutes apart. This was more like a steady stream of monsters. Weak monsters, comparatively, but a lot of them and they were fast. The digging didn¡¯t just worry me, it flat out terrified me.

    Is it time to test the exploits Judith¡¯s new costume provided? Test out the Judith/Rakim wombo-combo? It felt too soon. Right now we were clearing out chaff, and unless they swarmed my scouts, they really couldn¡¯t reach us. Digging notwithstanding. Dropping a load of rocks on their heads seemed like a waste.

    There was another hideous double shriek coming from the woods. I sighed. ¡°Same plan as before. Miyuki- put a couple of arrows into the giant. Headshots are great, but don¡¯t worry if you can¡¯t. Versai¡­ you know what? More heads, please. Just make sure the swarming vermin can¡¯t surround you.¡±

    ¡°Yes Tower Master!¡±

    I hesitated- should I micro my artillery? Give Miyuki more pin-point instructions? I forced myself to ignore the urge. Nothing worse than getting an instruction and then having the instructions change on you just as you start to do your job. I won¡¯t be that boss.

    The cooldowns on Mika¡¯s Ult and Carousel¡¯s Ult didn¡¯t exactly line up perfectly, but between the two, I could clear big swaths of monsters every few minutes. Versai was doing her one-woman blender routine. Things were somewhat stable. So¡­ either I was missing something or they were cooking up something particularly nasty for a wave-ender.

    I gently rapped my forehead. Both. It would definitely be both.

    ¡°Rikka, cripple two and come back to the battlefield. Rache, wide sweep! I want to know if there are any targets moving anywhere around my Tower! Search, then report back! Pop smoke if you see a big group.¡±

    The magic carried my words to my scouts as though they were standing next to me. I absolutely love that. I tightened my grip on the scepter. Fingers crossed that the efficiency bonus meant a faster search. I still haven¡¯t found a good way to test that.

    I looked out over the battlefield, trying to spot any problems. And¡­ so far¡­ there weren¡¯t any. My little war machine was grinding away well. The two headed giant horror remained straight nightmare fuel, but now that I was used to the sound the whistling arrows made, I could see its flaws.

    It was, in a word, trash.

    My gamer brain chewed it over. Big hit box. Two heads that could attack independently but, crucially, not on the same target at the same time. No AOE¡¯s seen so far, so unless it had a really quick turn, it was vulnerable to being surrounded and jumped. Its basic attacks were just plus sized versions of the standard monster attack. It wasn¡¯t anything, really. A custom model and a crap ton more hit points and reach because of its size.

    Versai had killed bigger.

    I nodded slowly. Send in the big one first, as a wall breaker. Then flood the gap with fast monsters. That would remove any chances of surrounding the big guy, and force the defenders to fight him head on. And if the defenders were on foot, then they would be the ones surrounded and dragged to the ground. Then send a second one in case the first got dragged down by traps or something.

    Rache came in hot and fast, dodging around the scattered fast monsters.

    ¡°Boss! We got banditos coming in from the back forty! And there are a lot of ¡®em!¡±

 Vol. 2 Chap. 21 The Eighth Wave And The Power of Fear

    ¡°Rache, report! What kind of monsters were they?¡±

    ¡°Dunno their name, Boss. They have armor, but they look shorter and heavier than the armored ones we usually see.¡±

    Wallbreakers. It had only been a couple of waves, and we were already getting wallbreakers. Not as bad as flying units, but arguably as dangerous, or more dangerous, as the stealth units.

    ¡°Do we still have the big pile of dirt over the back door?¡± I couldn¡¯t hide the urgency in my voice. At least I hope it didn¡¯t sound like fear.

    ¡°Boss? Yes Boss.¡± I got the definite impression that she considered my question profoundly odd. Which was fair, given the multiple tons of dirt that now covered the back quarter of my Tower.

    And the watchtowers I had set up next to them, but those were unmanned. Actually, we didn¡¯t even have a good way to get someone into them. Because I didn¡¯t think I would need them yet. Damn it all!

    ¡°Radz! Can  you fire over the Tower?¡±

    ¡°Negative, Tower Master.¡±

    Damn, damn, damn!

    I took a deep breath. Just trying to steady my nerves. The monsters could destroy the Tower doors. I knew that much because Versai had told me so. She had died, repeatedly, when it happened. But what about the walls? The original walls of the Tower, not the ones I built. Could the wallbreakers break down my walls?

    Deep breaths. It doesn¡¯t matter if you don¡¯t need the oxygen. Just¡­ breathe. Just wait and see where they attack. My walls now extend to around the halfway point of the Tower. I can split my artillery. Hell, I could pull all of it. It would only slow down the inevitable on this front. We could handle the fast monsters and the Giants without them.

    The artillery alone wouldn¡¯t be enough, though. And I really, really couldn¡¯t move my DPS. Except¡­

    ¡°Miyuki, Artillery!¡± I directed them around the sides of the Tower. Fingers crossed the wall breakers were as freaked out by the whistling noise as the fast monsters. I closed my eyes and slowly squeezed my fists. There was nothing back there to slow down the wall breakers. Not even trees. We had harvested everything we could in range of the Tower.

    ¡°Miyuki. I am counting on you. Do your best to slow them down.¡±

    ¡°Miyuki¡­ receives the Lord¡¯s Trust?¡± There was something off in her voice, but I was too stressed to hear it.

    ¡°Yes, Miyuki. You have my trust. My back I leave to you.¡±

    Hah. Now there was a line worthy of a weeb. I can¡¯t even remember where I stole that line from. Must be from somewhere. I don¡¯t have the guts to come up with it on my own. I don¡¯t even have the guts to look over at Miyuki as I say it.

    ¡°Miyuki will not fail her Lord again!¡±

    I spun fast, but Miuki was an honest to Kami ninja. She was gone before I finished turning. I had to run across the Throne Room and out to the other balcony. I spotted her on one of the semi abandoned watch towers. She must have used that crummy homemade grappling hook to get up there. Her long hair danced in the night breeze as she stood watching the monsters in their massive charge. Her right hand drew back the starlight string of her bow. The arrow gathered firefly lights, growing brighter and brighter with each breath.

    ¡°MIYUKI!¡±

    ¡°Die for my Lord!¡± Her voice came out as a hiss. I could hear it over the screaming.

    ¡°MEDIC! No, wait!¡± They didn¡¯t have any way to get up there. Sending medics over would be suicide. That brave idiot!

    Slender white fingers loosed an arrow of light. It traveled faster than my eyes could follow. So fast, it looked like a solid line flying across the clearing. Skewering two, three, five, a dozen monsters before burying itself in the dirt. The light beam faded. Miyuki fell with it.

    There was no one I could send. No one. Everyone was where they needed to be, doing what they needed to be doing. I couldn¡¯t even send my workers. They were too slow, and losing them would be deadly in the long run.

    I wracked my brain for bodies I could throw at this, anyone I could send to rescue her! Rache? Rache! Screw spotting work, we know exactly where the enemy is. Rache could grab Miyuki and get out again fast.

    ¡°Rache-¡±

    A noise- the distillation of fear, the need to run, to hide, to act like the prey I was. Like the whistling cry of a hunting phoenix, like the pitiless shriek of a hawk. Horror. Horror. The stalker is in your bedroom and he¡¯s holding a knife. Absolute terror. Darkness crept in from the edges of my eyes. I had to run. I had to run. The strength fell out of my legs, and I collapsed, clutching the lip of the balcony. I had to run. I couldn¡¯t run.

    I shook on the floor for¡­ I don¡¯t know how long. The thought slowly intruded into my mind- that this was Miyuki¡¯s fear effect, magnified immeasurably. That I wasn¡¯t in danger from this noise. That Miyuki needed me. That she put it all on the line for me. That she was lying on the dirt in the path of the monstrously heavy wall breakers, and if I did nothing, her best ending would be to have her head crushed under their heavy feet.

    I owed her more than that.

    My hands shook. Holding on to the stone railing, they still shook. There was no strength in my legs, nor any in my arms. The sound battered at my ears. I wasn¡¯t in danger. I knew that. But the fear reached inside my head and dug its long claws into my brain. But Miyuki needed me. I couldn¡¯t give up on her.

    I don¡¯t know where I found the strength. My legs managed a weak push. They shoved me into the stone railing. Then they worked with my arms and fluttering hands to press me up the stone and to my feet.

    The back field was chaos. Miyuki¡¯s discipline, her ultimate, whatever power she used, had pierced a dozen of the low slung, monstrously heavy wall breakers before burying in the dirt. And it hadn¡¯t vanished. Twelve horrors with the bodies of giant hippos and the faces of mutilated bat-wolves and all too human hands. Skewered on a single pike of starlight.

    The Whistling Arrow- the more enemies it pierced, the louder and more powerful it would be, persisting until they died. Twelve in one blow. It stacked with her ult. Holy Goddess, it stacked with her ult.

    The wall breakers had gone insane from fear. They tore at each other, blind with terror, pure instinct driving them to kill. When they couldn¡¯t tear, they rammed, slamming into each other, into the ground. Some ran. Some turned and ran as hard as they could, but so many had their legs collapse under them like mine had. So many lost all their strength and lay in the dirt, twitching and screaming. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    We should be. We should be out there. We should be cleaning up the battlefield. This is a heaven-sent opportunity. My brain was pudding. We had to take every advantage. But I couldn¡¯t go myself. Any accident and we would all die. Were my summons affected like I was?

    ¡°Rache. Rescue Miyuki, carry her to the medics. Medics, treat Mikyuki when she reaches you. Rikka. Kill the wounded or insane wall breakers. Leave the one¡¯s Miyuki skewered alone.¡±

    There was a long moment. Not a silence. Not under that mind obliterating whistle. But a too long moment. Then-

    ¡°Chromed lighting.¡±

    ¡°They will never see me coming.¡±

    I wanted to laugh. Some part of me, some tiny, brave part of me felt that this was the moment for a heroic laugh. But I just couldn¡¯t do it. It took all I had to stand at the railing, and watch a cowgirl on a ghost motorcycle zip around the walls and haul Miyuki off the ground. Slinging her over her lap and speeding off like she did this every day. Sling stones flew silently from shadows, crashing into armored skulls one, two, three times before blood poured from a monster¡¯s mouth and they stopped moving.

    My scouts had the back of the battlefield controlled, for now. Then explosions stated tearing up the ground, glowing cannonballs ripped through the thrashing horrors.

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree!¡±

    ¡°Radz raining death!¡±

    I had forgotten my artillery. I really did wish I could laugh. I had forgotten my blasted artillery. They must feel right at home.

    I staggered over to the other balcony, checking in on what the other battlefront was up to.

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    I slowly closed my eyes. Apparently I had gone insane. I thought that wasn¡¯t possible, but here we are. I opened them again. Then closed them.

    Why couldn''t it be a delusion of landing in some ecchi harem show? That would be a nice isekai. I would be in modern Japan, but for some reason, I was the only boy in an all girl¡¯s school filled with attractive women with eerily similar faces who were so starved for affection, ordinary interest earned their eternal devotion.

    Maybe not a school. An adult mind in a teenage body¡­ yeah. Better to be a salaryman on a trip to a rural village and the innkeeper was a charming widow whose children were boarding somewhere far away. I would make friends with the elderly local villagers, worry about the rice harvest, and grow as a person as the innkeeper and I fell deeper and deeper in love. We would have our first kiss under the falling maple leaves of autumn, as I decided once and for all to leave my stifling corporate life and live simply, but happily, in the country.

    I opened my eyes again.

    Versai hacked the bird head off the giant. The beast head was already in the dirt, yards away. Before it could fall, she kicked off the giant¡¯s sternum and drove her steel clad leg into the falling trophy. The kick sent it flying, smashing a fast monster hard enough to break bones. Drenched in the fountains of black blood spewed by the giant monster, she dove back down onto the battlefield. Mutilation was left in her wake.

    The screaming of the impaled wall breakers was everywhere here too, driving the fast monsters into madness. The Blue Roses sang in eerie counterpoint, their wailing chant almost harmonizing with the siren of terror and the screaming of the panicking, wounded monsters. Carousel waved her magic wand, no longer seductive in lilac but a monstrous demon of magic- the gasoline slick of the Final Revel catching the moonlight and driving the monsters into a Hell of terror and ecstasy.

    The dead were piled in heaps. No, not piled, they simply died in piles. The quick monsters had come in such large numbers, their corpses stacked into barricades cairns of torn meat without the touch of a human, or human-ish, hand.  This was no longer a battlefield, it was a place of slaughter. We were like some primitive tribe that drove its prey into fenced land to be surrounded and killed. No slaughterhouse here. Only the killing fields.

    Punctuating it all was the Mikas. Corporal Mika had a very precise sense of timing. She would keep her squad firing normally until she saw a mass of fast monsters coming. At the last possible second, she would trigger the squad¡¯s ultimate ability, and a storm of bolts would sweep out and wash the earth in blood and gore.

    Maybe wash wasn¡¯t the word. It was sure raining down anyhow. Pretty soon, we would run out of enemies.

    Or dirt.

    I had gotten a taste of the war the people of Gradden March had fought. Just a taste. Tonight was a soup spoon of the true slaughter. I understood it a little, now. It wasn¡¯t just the endless fear of death. It was what all the killing did to you. It was seeing all that meat. All that pain. It didn¡¯t have to be your pain. It could still brutalize you. What was a life worth, in the killing field? What did pain count for?

    We really were running out of enemies. No new giants crashed through the woods. There were still a few fast demons running around, but from what I could see, there weren¡¯t any more entering the clearing. It would take a while to clean up¡­ but only a while.

    ¡°Versai. Rache and Rikka are killing wall breakers around the back of the Tower. Go help them.¡± She wasn¡¯t needed here. There were still corpses to tidy up, but the Eighth Wave was done.

    Rikka had stashed two crippled monsters in the woods. We finished off the ones Miyuki had skewered. The noise was just too terrible. I found Rikka sitting on the dirt, holding Miyuki¡¯s head in her lap and slowly stroking her head. Miyuki didn¡¯t really understand why, but her senior had asked for this, and she didn¡¯t mind.

    A two star and a four star. The difference was that vast. It wasn¡¯t romantic, even I could tell that. It was like a big sister looking after her little sister. Just glad she was safe after a big scare.

    Miyuki had failed her Lord, or believed she had, and as a result, went into a sort of exile on Hungry Moon Mountain. A penance, maybe, or some kind of warrior journey to hone her skills. I don¡¯t think she would know how to answer me if I asked.

    In all the shows, the Daimyo and the Shoguns were all insecure pricks. What are the odds someone decided to send her on an impossible mission, which she failed, and she was then exiled to the mountain? ¡°To regain my trust, bring me the heart of Hidden Moon Mountain!¡± Or something like that.

    Tapping the bodies was an ¡°almost everybody¡± job. By now, I had figured out that the amount of rune bones and crafting materials dropped by monsters were pretty minimal compared to perfect clear rewards, quest rewards and the like. Some summons might be luckier than others, but I really couldn¡¯t be bothered to figure out who yielded the best loot. As long as the Blue Roses were kept far away, it was all good.

    It was a little different this time around. There were just so many bodies. So, so many. And that wasn¡¯t all.

    ¡°Tower Master, I think you need to see this.¡± Versai came over, lugging some door sized slabs of ugly.

    ¡°I wish I wasn¡¯t seeing them. It looks like chunks of monster.¡±

    ¡°You are right, actually.¡±

    ¡°Versai¡­ wait. If the monster is dead, and you touched it, it should just vanish, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, leaving behind runed bones and scraps of stuff we can feed into the armory for basic weapons and armor upgrades. You delegated that bit to me, remember?¡±

    I did remember, and firmly blessed my wisdom there. That level of tedious micromanagement was just too much for me.

    ¡°Yep. And¡­¡± I gestured for her to continue.

    She gave me a blank look. I looked hard at the slabs, and she made an ¡°Ahah!¡± face.

    ¡°The Judiths got them off the giants. I¡¯m¡­ not sure what they are, but they seem like crafting materials.¡±

    I grunted and grabbed a hold of one.

    Two Headed Essence (Weapon Upgrade Kit)- When applied to weapons, the weapon has a high chance of launching a second, identical attack at the same target.

    Simultaneously good and not nearly spicy enough. Doubling up the shot of a single Mika, even Corporal Mika, just wouldn¡¯t be that big a game changer. Same thing with Miyuki- she was already one-shotting most things this side of a giant, and I¡¯m not sure a second attack on the same target would be helpful. Arguably it would be worse, because it would make them die faster and reduce the use-time of the fear effect.

    Double artillery had a certain charm to it. And I did have to wonder if Final Revel could be double cast. That would be extra spicy, even if they just overlapped the same spot. I kind of doubted it, though. Carousel¡¯s normal attack was pretty average. Doubling it wouldn¡¯t be a game changer. I really, really needed something that could damage ghosts, and at the end of the day? This wasn¡¯t it.

    I blew out a long breath. Time to ring the whole Tower with walls. The good news was that I already had half of the wall built, and by now, the design was pretty well evolved. The bad news was that I didn¡¯t have any more bodies to throw at the monsters. I remember the conversation with Versai, and I hadn¡¯t changed my opinion- this was really bad.

    Could I put the double effect on the workers? In real life, hammering something twice when you only meant to hit it once was probably a bad idea. Or, like, spreading cement with a trowel or something. But by video game logic, it probably made the work go twice as fast, right?

    ¡°Tower Master?¡± Versai looked concerned. She was still standing in front of me, holding the other bit of loot.

    ¡°Sorry, thinking.¡±

    ¡°You drifted away there. You have been doing that a lot recently.¡±

    ¡°Just thinking.¡±  I rubbed my eyebrows. Did fire work on ghosts? Could you silver your blade, or poison it or something? Dip it in holy oil?

    ¡°Hey, the Floating Quarter has alchemists, right? And a church?¡±

    ¡°It¡­ has people that make their living through alchemy, yes, though how many of them are actually journeymen of the Alchemists Guild I can¡¯t say. Perhaps as many as one.¡±

    ¡°Hoho. And the church?¡±

    ¡°There is a chapel, I believe. No actual church, for obvious reasons.¡±

    Are they obvious? I can¡¯t imagine the priest who was whispering in the Marchioness¡¯ ear had anything to do with a slum church. Or maybe a church was more like a cathedral on earth, and they just used the same words?

    ¡°Any holy oil?¡±

    ¡°Holy oil? Like¡­ for massages or something?¡± She was now officially giving me a look.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to figure out if there is anything we can make in Gradden March that I can apply to the weapons to make them kill the hungry ghosts. Which, I¡¯m thinking, is magic damage, something that specifically targets ethereal or ghosts, holy damage, or maybe fire. Magic fire would be better.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Well. We didn¡¯t really fight ghosts in Gradden March. Just monsters.¡± She shrugged.

    ¡°Yeah, I figured.¡± It was too much to hope for.

    ¡°And other humans, of course. If ¡°Ethereal¡± means ¡°Not Physical¡± then we can probably source some ointments for that. Assassins used it all the time. Way too many people wearing armor these days, apparently.¡±

    ¡°You have an ointment-¡±

    ¡°Slum illegal alchemists can probably make an ointment-¡± She corrected me.

    ¡°That turns a weapon¡¯s attacks ethereal.¡±

    ¡°I think so? You would have to check and see if we are talking about the same thing.¡±

    ¡°And you never mentioned this, why?¡± I wasn¡¯t tearing my hair out. It was far too strongly attached.

    ¡°You never asked. Tower Master.¡±

 Vol. 2 Chap. 22 Yanking The Pull Cord on The War Machine

    I didn¡¯t shout. Shows a lot of emotional maturity, I think. I¡¯d say that I¡¯m on a really positive path as a leader and human being. I just closed my eyes and visualized the Principal versus Deer running gag from Nichijou. Haha, the bullet-proof vest does nothing, Principle-San. Deer-San is too strong.

    When I opened my eyes again, my two Six Stars were waiting. Were they getting closer? That¡¯s nice.

    ¡°Alright. Development Counselor, when I connect my Sky Realm to a resource site, do I need to connect to my Tower, or to the site where the piece of my realm came from? Like, if I wanted to send workers from Gradden March to work in the quarry, do they have to pass through here, or can I link the two sites directly?

    ¡°Everything runs through the Tower.¡± Carousel smiled. I think the word to describe it would be ¡°languorously.¡± She smiled like a cat stretching.

    ¡°I can see that being a ferocious waste of resources but¡­ anyway. Work Squad! Build roads connecting the Tower to every location we have discovered except the Armored Tiger Den!¡±

    That got me some curious looks. ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°What, you aren¡¯t curious about what¡¯s going to happen when those pond fairies can sell their magic berries to the very safe, very normal alchemists of the Floating Quarter?¡±

    That got some slow nods. ¡°That¡¯s right, those¡­ whatever they were berries. They increased speed, right?¡± Versai asked.

    ¡°Bulwilp berries. It made people move faster and gave them a two percent miss chance if they were attacked in a forest. Actually, that would be really useful in the Hidden Moon Mountain raid. Hmm. I¡¯ll have to get some.¡± I rapped my head.

    The berries hadn¡¯t seemed very useful when I tried the free sample, but it was a situational thing. The raid was a situation where having a high level of mobility would be important, and having one in fifty attacks just whiff would be a whole lot better than having that attack land.

    ¡°Right, next item. Carousel, I need a list of every item you know of that can be manufactured in Gradden March and used outside of the Sky Realm. Everything. Every potion, ointment, lotion, weapon, spell, thug, thug with a spell, talisman, weapon, talisman weapon, a thug with a spell that is also a talisman weapon, everything.¡±

    ¡°Does that list include things that we can eventually build up to? I should also mention that there are things we can manufacture and export that I don¡¯t know about yet, as we have not connected the relevant resources.¡±

    ¡°Everything that we can currently manufacture and export. Dear God, how much stuff can there be?¡±

    ¡°Err. Several thousand items at least?¡±

    I blinked at her.

    ¡°Do what now?¡±

    ¡°Well, after you asked about making-¡± I gave her a hard look and she rolled her eyes ¡°Ballista, which remains a ridiculous word, Sebastian and I talked it over. The means of importation, production and exportation are¡­ interesting.¡±

    Wait. Wait, Sebastian, you mad lad. You¡¯ve been out of your little dungeon for two days and you are already figuring out exploits? AND you are roping Carousel into it? She¡¯s had the least amount of ¡®awake¡¯ time of any of you.

    Did¡­ did the Marquis leave his incompetent wife in charge out of the very reasonable fear that Sebastian would be running the fife if he didn¡¯t?

    ¡°Interesting how?¡±

    ¡°Well, it starts off very proscriptive- certain buildings make certain things and only those things. A Tannery will only produce tanned hides, although which tanned hides it produces depends on which hides it is supplied with. Horse hide, cow hide, buffalo hide, pig hide, and so on.¡±

    ¡°With you so far.¡±

    ¡°Except that¡¯s not everything a tannery can produce. There is an awful lot of residue left behind by the tanning process, various crystals of chemicals useful to alchemists, waste that can be reduced to sulfur, and more.¡±

    ¡°Ah! The ¡®ole ¡®the System ignores trash¡¯ exploit! You love to see it.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Especially when you consider that ammonia and sulfur are chemicals that we, in theory, need to import or manufacture.¡± Carousel¡¯s smile was a touch eerie. The cat had finished stretching, and was now up to no good.

    ¡°Oh? Nice!¡±

    ¡°It gets better. What¡¯s the import on that?¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡±

    ¡°What is the source of all that waste?¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ it¡¯s sewage, right?¡± Suddenly grossed out.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s hides.¡± Her smile deepened. ¡°You can only send hides into the tannery. Nothing else, except at higher levels of development when you can add dyes and alchemical reagents.¡±

    ¡°Wait. The usual byproducts of the tanning process are produced, but the raw materials needed for the tanning process are just¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, my Lord. You have it now. There are similar restrictions. I started considering what other siege weaponry we could produce, and in every instance, I knew, unshakably, that a siege engineering workshop would be required to create them, along with specialized workers to oversee the construction.¡±

    ¡°Alright?¡±

    ¡°My Lord, on a campaign, Trebuchets and other siege equipment are built on site, not hauled along with the supply train. The throwing arm is more or less an entire tree trunk.¡±

    Versai agreed, saying ¡°You use green timber for it. Whatever is handy, really. If you can loot dried wood, so much the better, but most of the time, you have to harvest trees and things to build them.¡±

    ¡°Still not following.¡±

    ¡°That means that a few basic woodworkers, and some not-at-all-basic math, is enough to build a trebuchet. Well, and rope makers and some basic metal parts and the like. No special workshop required.¡± Versai half smiled.

    ¡°Ah. Annoying, but not unexpected at this point. So how do we take advantage of that?¡±

    ¡°No idea.¡± Versai shrugged. Carousel rolled her eyes.

    ¡°What I mean, my Lord, is that with some care, you could build advanced siege equipment here in the Tower, even if it wasn¡¯t officially ¡°a trebuchet.¡± It could just be an oddly shaped heap of trash that, by strange coincidence, demonstrates the incredible power of leverage.¡± Yes, that is one eerie smile right there.

    I¡¯m still deeply creeped out by what happened to Carousel. But I have to admit, the new Carousel is winning prizes as a flexible thinker. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°I¡¯m liking where this is going. Do you have anything for me that will let me stab ghosts? These are cheating ghosts, where they can stab us, but we can¡¯t stab them.¡±

    Carousel slowly blinked in surprise, then narrowed her charming eyes. ¡°Hmm. Actually, my spell Glass Arrow works on spirits. Not that I¡¯ve ever had the opportunity to fight one. I just know it works.¡±

    Ahah. Thank you game systems for that one.

    ¡°Is there a particular word that leaps to mind in connection with your ability to hit ghosts?¡± I asked, not even hiding the way I was crossing my fingers.

    ¡°Hmm? Arcane, I suppose. It¡¯s a bolt of arcane energy.¡±

    ¡°Fantastic. And is that the same sort of energy that is in the ointment that gets smeared on weapons to let them bypass armor?¡± I said, trying to figure out how to cross my toes.

    ¡°No, that is Cyffyrddiad Ysbryd potion, and highly illegal. It distills certain graveyard remnants-¡±

    ¡°Hang on, hang on, I want to hear more about that but what is it called again?¡±

    ¡°Cyffyrddiad Ysbryd potion. Aptly named, if horrible in contents. There was talk of mass producing it using our war dead but that was quickly quashed. It works even better with monster corpses, so mass production keeps being proposed. Still, it¡¯s nasty work and there is justifiable fear about where that potion will end up. Or in whose back.¡± Carousel shrugged one shoulder.

    ¡°Just¡­ one more time. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll get it this time.¡±

    ¡°Cyffyrddiad Ysbryd. Are you alright, Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m wondering about that more and more these days. I give up. What does it do, exactly?¡±

    ¡°Not my area of magical speciality, but as I understand it, it transmutates powerful life energy into a force of un-life, bypassing the material to annihilate life energies directly. As a consequence of this, any weapon it¡¯s on can also reach, and damage, un-life beings.¡±

    ¡°Ghost Touch Potion, got it, thanks.¡±

    ¡°Ghost¡­ touch?¡± She tasted the words cautiously. Versai shook her head and looked away.

    ¡°Yep. Ghost Touch potion. That¡¯s what it¡¯s called now. Ghost Touch potion.¡± I had to be firm on this immediately, or we¡¯d be straight back to that ballista nonsense.

    ¡°What a strange name.¡± Carousel murmured.

    ¡°Sure, strange, you bet. So how much of this Ghost Touch potion can we lay hands on today? Or anything doing arcane damage?¡±

    ¡°Not a lot, my Lord. Of either. Arcane magic, and everything related to it, was strictly regulated by the Crown. And while Cyffyrddiad Ysbryd potion-¡±

    ¡°Sorry, the WHAT NOW potion?¡±

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°The Ghost Touch potion was known widely, and was equally widely forbidden. Mere possession saw the owner hung in a gibbet and all his possessions were forfeit to the local secular authorities. Actually making such a potion carried a much more serious punishment.¡±

    ¡°More serious than being hung?¡±

    Versai jumped in. ¡°Being slowly boiled into The Soup of Bitter Wisdom. Which involves, ultimately, being dissolved into a sort of broth in a superheated glass pot in the middle of a major public plaza. It is a particularly nasty process that takes about¡­ ten hours?¡±

    ¡°Ten hours. You need the time for some of the toxins to cook out.¡± Carousel nodded.

    ¡°Ten hours. And they are awful hours. The brain and nerves are the last to go. Horrible, watching them float in all that reddish acid.¡±

    Okay, that¡¯s pure-

    ¡°Actually, by that point it¡¯s become mildly caustic. All the town¡¯s official alchemists have to sit and watch, without food or water, until the process is complete. When the soup is ready, they have to drink it all up. The chemicals used to sustain the transformation of a man into soup are, after all that cooking, quite bitter. A good reminder of what can happen when Alchemists break the law, and a good reminder of the need for self regulation. Or so I was told, anyhow.¡± Carousel mildly corrected her. It got Carousel a nasty little look from Versai. Seems like there was still bad blood.

    ¡°AND ONCE AGAIN I¡¯m cutting this off. Dear God and his many little fishes, just what the Hell was going on in your country?¡±

    ¡°We did have a reputation for being soft on alchemical crimes. It¡¯s just, we were all so focused on the war effort.¡± Versai tried to explain.

    ¡°Right. You always hear about cases like Bolsingolin of Voh, who was refined in the Iron Sepulcher for nine hundred and ninety nine days, with every member of his family within three degrees of consanguinity refined in the fires with him, their souls bound with his into a single pellet of inescapable torment. That¡¯s pretty standard punishment for Illegal or Heretical Alchemy in most countries.¡± Carousel sounded a little helpless.

    ¡°Okay! Noted! People didn¡¯t keep this stuff lying around, and would presumably only brew some up when there was someone they really, really, really needed dead. And I¡¯d assume that, not coincidentally, it would cost several year¡¯s wages to get an alchemist to work on it?¡±

    ¡°No, but only because any black market alchemist capable of preparing it would be working for an organization, and not open to public commissions.¡± Versai and Carousel shared a look.

    ¡°Working for an¡­¡± I sighed and rubbed the spot between my eyebrows. ¡°Sebastian.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s never said anything. But then, I¡¯ve never asked.¡± Versai¡¯s smile was quite brittle. I hadn¡¯t really considered the impact of discovering her uncle ran a major criminal syndicate might have on her. Which¡­ was dumb of me. Or¡­ rude? Selfish? Thoughtless? I don¡¯t know what it was. She¡¯d had an awful long time to think about it in the frozen order time when we created our exploits. It shouldn¡¯t hit her that bad, right?

    I feel like I¡¯m missing something obvious.

    Oh, damn.

    ¡°STOP HARVESTING THE MONSTERS! EVERYONE, NOBODY TOUCH THE MONSTERS!¡±

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°What do you want to bet that Sebastian has someone on hand who can do the work, but needs an ungodly amount of bodies?¡±

    ¡°While I do know a gentleman who can brew Cyffyrddiad Ysbryd,-¡± Sebastian had joined me in my Throne Room.

    ¡°Do you mean the well known potion Ghost Touch?¡±

    ¡°What a bizarre name. Anyhow, we don¡¯t keep any on hand. It¡¯s simply too dangerous.¡±

    ¡°You were worried about getting raided?¡± I raised a disbelieving eyebrow.The old devil countered with a perfectly arched eyebrow of his own. Did you know an eyebrow could be patronizing? I didn¡¯t. Oh, the things I learn in this game.

    ¡°Because they are notoriously unstable and begin to emit an unbearably noxious smell after a week in storage. This is when they are sealed in a glass jar, and then sealed again with lead. I speak from deeply unhappy experience here- such vile things are best made to order. Regrettably, just as even a thrifty housewife can¡¯t cook without barley, an alchemist requires ingredients. And we would need dozens, if not in excess of a hundred, monster corpses to create enough potion to coat the weapons of five people.¡±

    I allowed myself a few seconds of smug. Sometimes, you just know how the universe will set you up.

    ¡°The good news is that we do have a frankly awful amount of monsters in the killing fields around the Tower. The bad news is that my summons can¡¯t touch them without the monsters disintegrating and leaving a remnant of loot behind. So they can¡¯t haul the bodies over to the Sky Realm.¡±

    ¡°Mmm. I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m far too old for such work.¡± The remarkably fit looking Sebastian spread his hands helplessly.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to ask you to. We can dispatch Gradden March workers to connected resource sites. We harvested timber from around the Tower, and now we want to collect the resource called ¡°bodies.¡±

    He stroked his beard thoughtfully. ¡°I see. I instinctively want to say that the Tower is not a resource site and the workers cannot be deployed here, but I see the logic. I suppose the only way to find out is to try.¡±

    ¡°Yep. How many can I deploy, do you know?¡±

    ¡°General laborers, without disrupting any of the existing industries we have going? Eight hundred.¡±

    I had to make sure my ears were working correctly. ¡°Eight hundred workers.¡±

    ¡°Well. Eight hundred laborers. They aren¡¯t Awakened Souls. You shouldn¡¯t expect the same kind of capability.¡± He hedged.

    ¡°Eight hundred.¡±

    ¡°Currently, yes.¡±

    I called up the interface and started hunting around for resource sites to deploy to. It kept wanting to snap over to the stone mine, but I was able to, by dint of very fine positioning and an unnaturally steady hand, just barely get it to lock onto the area just beyond the Tower.

    ¡°Deploy. Resource- monster bodies.¡± I waved my scepter as I did it. Time to see what that efficiency bonus looked like. I heard a rumble of footsteps from downstairs. We rushed out of the room, and quickly found a stream of filthy, foul smelling laborers pouring out from the Sky Realm door next to the map room. They rushed down the stairs¡­ then stopped. Mobbing up. They completely packed the stairwell.

    ¡°Stop, stop! Back up everyone, single file on the right! Shove all the way over to the right, backs to the wall!¡± I shouted as Sebastian and I ran down the stairs. At the bottom of the steps, we found the workers blobbed up in front of the sealed-shut door. My ¡®back door.¡¯ The one I had covered with many tons of dirt.

    ¡°Oh God damn it. Guys! Workers! There is a completely open door right over there. Look. I am pointing at it. The door. Is open. And it¡¯s right behind you. Just turn around, and walk forward.¡±

    There were blank looks repeated eight hundred times. The sheer concentrated animal smell of it, mixing with the gormless staring. Like chihuahuas fed enough valium to dampen the psychopathy and leave only the lentil-sized remainder of their brain.

    ¡°Way¡¯s blocked.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t go.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t do it.¡±

    ¡°Roadblock. Time for lunch.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t do it.¡±

    ¡°Way¡¯s blocked.¡±

    There were less than a dozen variations of the same thing. The path was blocked, and they couldn¡¯t go. Even if I grabbed one and forcibly turned them around, they turned right back.

    ¡°Maybe you need to open the door?¡± Sebastian asked with carefully restrained amusement.

    ¡°Like hell. That gate doesn¡¯t open until I have a full blown gatehouse and wall complex set up. You know what? We are going to do it the hard way. Come on. You grab one arm, I¡¯ll take the other. We are going to drag this guy out through the front door. I¡¯m not putting up with this level of stupid.¡±

    They were bumping off the door. Like roombas. Actually, roombas could navigate around obstacles. This was sub-roomba intelligence on display. Horrifying.

    Sebastian and I grabbed one of the humanoid robots and hauled them towards the front door. We got him through and had barely reached the first step up to the top of the wall when the sky turned blood red.

    There was a throbbing, thick veins of something pulsing, irregular and fast, there were things crawling along the veins, monstrous, unspeakable things. The infested the sky, clinging to the web of arteries filling the dome of the sky.

    10.

    9.

    8.

    Nothing needed to be said. We hauled the worker back in. ¡°RETURN TO THE SKY REALM! I AM ORDERING ALL OF YOU TO RETURN TO THE SKY REALM. RIKKA, RACHE, ALL HANDS, KILL ANY SURVIVING MONSTERS RIGHT THIS INSTANT, NOW NOW NOW!¡±

    The countdown reached two before it stopped. The sun rose over a bloody field. And I, once again, wished I could puke. Not because of the battlefield. Just as a way to release the stress.

    The nose. The throbbing irregular beat of that bloody sky. The rubbing of the veins and the endless chittering, squeaking noises of those monsters on the other side of the sky. I thought before that we were trapped in an eyeball. Now? The lungs? Some mockery of a heart? I don¡¯t know anymore. Maybe we are moving. Maybe we are seeing different pieces of the same thing. I don¡¯t know.

    I sat on the steps and hung onto my knees. Sebastian didn¡¯t have a single damned thing to say about it either.

 Vol. 2 Chap 23- Embracing the Hard Way

    I got myself together. I don¡¯t know how long it took. A while. Not forever. I was becoming more used to the horror, though far from immune. My God. The scope of it. Feeling like a particle of dirt inhaled by some unspeakable monster and then having a momentary view of the lungs you were lodged in, the heart who¡¯s walls you were, somehow, trapped in¡­

    But ultimately you get over it. I felt the cool waves wash over me a few times. Felt my brain refresh. And I got over it. It was horrible, but we lived. So time to get on with living.

    We were on order time now. That wasn¡¯t ideal. I needed to build an entirely new wall structure, not to mention an honest-to-whoever gate, for the back door. Can¡¯t say I was looking forward to that. Even moving away all the dirt would be a massive job. We¡¯d turn it into rammed earth walls, of course. No sense in letting tons and tons and tons of dirt go to waste. But it would be a huge job and that meant using up orders.

    Had to figure out who was getting that two-headed essence too. Versai seemed like an obvious option, but I still wasn¡¯t sure about who else might benefit.

    There was a moderately polite cough from Versai. ¡°Tower Master, you seem to be forgetting something.¡±

    ¡°Oh? What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°We completed the wave perfectly. Which means a perfect completion bonus.¡±

    I slammed my fist into my hand. ¡°Hot damn! That¡¯s right.¡± Off I hopped to the Throne Room. To my delight, there was a brilliantly glowing treasure chest, and a new golden dot on my wall

    WAVE 8 PERFECT VICTORY!

    Award for Perfect Victory: -5% Resource Cost For Field Constructions.

    Oh. Now that was a little spicy. This was the second time we got this award. I checked the other plaques on my wall- we got it all the way back in Wave 3. I remember I wasn¡¯t very impressed back then, but now that my fortifications had reached a certain scale? Oh this was getting interesting. It would only get more valuable as the rarity of building resources got-

    I cut my own thoughts in midstream. Roads. Are roads a field construction? ¡°MARCI-¡±

    ¡°WHAT? Cough. Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t¡­ you don¡¯t actually say ¡®cough,¡¯ you just pretend to cough.¡±

    Marci, who was trotting up the stairs, did a good job pretending to be deaf instead. I decided that we both mutually decided to ignore the breach of decorum that was definitely her overreacting to my completely reasonable way of speaking.

    ¡°Marci, do roads count as a field construction?¡±

    ¡°What else could they possibly be?¡± She doesn¡¯t need to sleep. She is physically incapable of sleeping. So why does she look like she got asked to cover a shift on her day off after a week of doubles?

    ¡°Marci¡­ when was the last time you got to spend time in the dorms?¡±

    She just stared at me. I didn¡¯t know either. Could¡­ could they need rest? Could I need rest? I had a deeply uncomfortable looking bed, even though I couldn¡¯t sleep.

    ¡°Thank you. Why don¡¯t you head over to the dorms? Take a break for a while. Err. In a minute. Stick around for now, I still have some questions.¡±

    I tapped on the treasure chest. One uncommon resource pack. Nice! No blue magnesium. Less nice. There were, however, two pit traps in the chest, so I came back around to Nice again. Some summoning crystal fragments, a small stack of Stone Tapes and one hundred Runed Bones. Pretty good loot. Not as good as the perfect pass reward, but good.

    Just going to skip over the eight hundred runed bones that just teleported into my inventory pouch just because I connected Gradden March by road. We take what we get, and are thankful. I took a quick look at the daily missions, and immediately ignored them. Five runed bones for killing ten monsters, that kind of thing. Two stone tapes for sending someone out on orders.

    I know an abandoned mechanic when I see one. This was a blatant case of gamer psychology manipulation. All those daily/weekly/monthly check-ins, daily missions, special limited time goals, all that? Just driving engagement with the game. It was literal make work, for the sake of getting you to press the button and generate dopamine while listening to the jingle and watching the animations.

    ¡°You are being rewarded. You did well,¡± The game whispers. ¡°Keep playing. Ignore the rest of the world. It hurts. It¡¯s scary. Look, you can press that button and the machine will make you happy again. If only for a moment.¡±

    God I love gacha games. It just cuts out so many middlemen. Why would I drink liquor when I can press a button and be happy, over and over again?

    Now¡­ Why was the mechanic given up, given that it works extremely well? THAT is worth finding the answer to. I looked through the calendar. I drew some resonance crystals. Not enough to get me a draw, but still nice. Day Nine. Tomorrow¡­ tomorrow I get a summons with a rainbow border as my daily check in reward.

    And to me, rainbow means a new Six Star. It makes sense. You get one for your initial login bonus, and you get one after ten days in game. It creates the perception that Six Stars are not too hard to come by. Makes you feel strong, clearing out the waves with your OP units.

    Well. Regardless of the manipulation, I¡¯d just look forward to it. I am in desperate need of more combat units, after all.

    I flung myself back into my armchair, trying to sort out what I needed to do today. I didn¡¯t get to really take advantage of my infinite-orders glitch during the last battle.

    ¡°Marci, did your crew manage to connect any resource sites to the Tower last night?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    Ah. ¡°How much order time would you need to complete the work.

    ¡°Two.¡± She sounded dead certain. None of that ¡°Well, if everything goes right and if the trucks with the supplies turn up on time¡­¡±

    I don¡¯t feel like I have two orders to spare right now, though. That back door was weighing on me. I could see the monsters coming for it the instant it was unblocked. Finishing the initial defenses of the rear of the Tower were, therefore, more important than connecting resource sites. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    And even more important than that was clearing Hidden Moon Mountain. Which needed that Ghost Touch Potion. Which needed the monster bodies. Which my summons couldn¡¯t touch. I sighed and heaved myself to my feet. God, I really, really did not want to do this.

    ¡°Do we have canvas or anything? Any big pieces of cloth from a resource pack or something?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Marci was her usual dour self.

    ¡°Could you make a big net?¡±

    ¡°Out of rope?¡±

    ¡°Yes, exactly!¡±

    ¡°No. Not enough rope for a big net.¡±

    She is just such a joy to be around. Just a little ray of blue collar sunshine.

    This was going to suck so much.

    I walked over to the Rampart and found the knotted rope. I climbed down carefully, remembering what happened the last time I tried this stunt. The ground was absolutely littered with corpses. The fast monsters were all roughly the size of German Shepherds. Their human hands that took the place of paws had mutated and deformed. I didn¡¯t understand what I was seeing, and decided not to sweat it. I had so much else to be sweaty about.

    I tied a knot at the end of the rope with knots in it. I don¡¯t know how to tie a bowline knot. I¡¯ll admit my knot was a bit of a cludge. Or a lot of a cludge. I was, at the very least, completely confident that it wouldn¡¯t come undone. And since I didn¡¯t want to find out the hard way I was wrong, I tested it repeatedly. It held. That¡¯s what¡¯s important.

    Any accusations that I was fixating on the knot to distract myself from what I was about to do is blatantly untrue, and may result in a defamation lawsuit just as soon as I conquer a relic site that provides legal counsel.

    ¡°Versai¡­ When I tug the rope, pull me up.¡±

    ¡°Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Just¡­ just do it. Marci, stand by to assist Versai if necessary.¡±

    I reached out and grabbed one of the fast monsters. It was heavy. Maybe a hundred pounds? I had to really muscle it around, the dead weight flopping uselessly. The leathery hide was gross enough, but it had holes in it, and was leaking. It smelled. Like what, I don¡¯t know. Bad. It smelled really, really bad.

    It took a truly unpleasant amount of trial and error until I was able to get my shoulder under it and grab its legs in a sort of fireman¡¯s carry. I put my foot in the loop, wrapped my arm around the rope, grabbed hard and prayed. I tugged the rope.

    ¡°Haul me up.¡±

    I fell off, of course.

    I didn¡¯t say anything, and bless her comfy socks, neither did Versai. I reset, got a better grip, and tried to predict how the weight of the fast monster was going to pull me around.

    The second fall wasn¡¯t any nicer than the first.

    It took an ungodly amount of trial and error. I really didn¡¯t want to just tie the monsters to the rope and have Versai haul them up because I was focused on work flow. I was considering the number of steps needed to complete the task. We tried a few ways, and it just wasn¡¯t happening.

    ¡°Alright, work smarter not harder time. We don¡¯t have nets or canvas, but we do have a TON of scrap wood and some rope.¡±

    In addition to not knowing how to tie a bowline, I have never built a raft or a platform or, frankly, anything at all out of rope and wood. Which was fine. I had unlimited time, even if I didn¡¯t have unlimited resources. This was something I could figure out.

    ¡°You want me to jump off the wall.¡±

    ¡°Slowly. Yes.¡±

    ¡°Impressive, Tower Master! I didn¡¯t know you had a way to slow your fall from a great height. Being violently flung off your balcony must hold no fears for you.¡±

    ¡°Oh for- Versai, you know perfectly well how a pulley works. Meat Tray goes up, you go down, I climb up and unload meat tray because I haven¡¯t figured out how to make a swing arm or real block-and-tackle system, then once we have a giant pile of unspeakable, monstrous flesh befouling our once pristine rampart, I schlep them to the Sky Realm.¡±

    ¡°What does ¡°Schlep¡± mean?¡±

    ¡°What do you think it means?¡±

    ¡°It sounds like something sticky being dragged.¡±

    ¡°So if I am schlepping something-¡±

    ¡°You are dragging something sticky and unpleasant. Really? That¡¯s what it really means?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much.¡±

    ¡°Just¡­ took a sound and made a word out of it. That¡¯s language in your nightmarish homeland. You don¡¯t have water, you have splishsplishsplish. At night you sit around the cracklecracklecrackle and warm your cold hearts. This is why you are so weird about normal words. It must sound like the language of the Gods to you.¡±

    ¡°Versai, what exactly is a word if not ¡°took a sound and made a word out of it?¡± Really. I want to know. And why would you think we have cold hearts? My country, even my city, is famous for its sincere expressions of powerful emotions.¡±

    She paused for a moment to parse that. ¡°You scream at each other a lot?¡±

    ¡°Daily, if not hourly. I think once every forty minutes is the union maximum for the construction guys, but I¡¯m not in the trades. Mostly I stay at home. It¡¯s peaceful there.¡±

    She nodded. ¡°You are going to carry the whole battlefield¡¯s worth of corpses to Gradden March.¡±

    ¡°We need that Ghost Touch potion, Versai. And if any of the Awakened touch the bodies, they vanish. I can think of so many things I would rather be doing. So, so many. Just¡­ thousands of other things I would rather be doing. But I don¡¯t get tired, and I don¡¯t get sick, and I¡¯m not on a clock. It just takes time, and getting over myself.¡±

    And¡­ I never want another Kim. I never want to have a ¡°brilliant¡± idea that gets one of my people killed. When they go to battle, they will know I did everything I possibly could to support them. Was I really prepared to let my people die because I think this is completely disgusting? Because the very thought of touching all these corpses makes my skin crawl? Let them die because the holes in the monsters make me want to puke until my toenails come up?

    ¡°Sebastian can¡¯t possibly need all these bodies to make five portions of Ghost Touch.¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t. But there are a couple of ice houses in the Floating Quarter. I¡¯m keeping the bodies in reserve. Who says we will only fight ghostly enemies once? Sooner or later, we will find a use for the corpses. And from what I¡¯m seeing, other than the giants, they are only dropping trash. They are yielding less than one Runed Bone per body too.¡±

    Versai looked like she had something more to say, but kept it in. She just grabbed the rope, and waited.

    I am not a manual labor guy. Or a DIY guy. I don¡¯t want to paint my own figurines, let alone make a bookshelf or fix a toilet. I hire people for that. I get groceries delivered to my door. Carrying them sounds like a job someone else can do. Same thing with getting dinner- delivery is always better than cooking yourself. Owning a car in New York is an act of both fiscal and literal suicide. When the subway won¡¯t cut it, there is Uber or Lyft.

    Anything someone else can do, should be outsourced. I only have one life. I might as well live as sweetly as I can. A principle that doesn¡¯t involve getting dirty, sweaty or tired.

    Well. You know what I mean. Once your pant size reaches a certain circumference, sweaty and tired are inescapable. Beats working in an Amazon warehouse, trying to remember which bottle you pissed in and which is actual gatorade. From what I hear, conditions in the warehouses are so diabolical even the Red and Blue flavors might not help you sort out which is which.

    I mean, I still buy from Amazon. But I¡¯m sympathetic to the plight of the worker, you know? As long as same-day and next-day shipping keep working, I am very, very supportive of their plight.

    The monster bodies stank. I stank. I didn¡¯t get tired. I just struggled to keep the dead weight from shifting around on me. There was no use rushing, but there was no point in going slow either. The job would be here until I was done. One bloody, entrial spilling body at a time.

    I¡¯d grab a body and carry it. Sometimes I¡¯d drag it, but that was actually often more annoying than picking it up. The sensations were odd. I could feel that the bodies were heavy. They slowed me down. I had to put real effort into picking them up. But once the weight was off of me, there was no ache. No burning in the muscle. I was utterly fresh. It was just the mental weight that ground down on me.

    There was no one else to do the work. No one I could hire. I guess I could have figured out something for my summons. I puzzled at it while carrying the bodies. I could have the Judiths lever up the bodies with sticks and roll them over. It would take an order, but I¡¯d bet they could do it. Heck, they had hoes. Slap the hoe into the pre-drilled hole, and you have meat on a hook, ready for dragging. But it would be a waste. They didn¡¯t have to do this. I could do this. That would give me an extra order I could use to explore, or to build better defenses.

    No more Kim¡¯s. Not one more.

    There was a hypnotic monotony to the work. You didn¡¯t have to think about anything. You just had to get yourself set under the weight, lift, and carry. The platform could hold a dozen bodies without them sliding off. It was more than

    Versai weighed, of course, so my counterweight elevator idea turned out to be useless. And also just plain overthinking. She could haul them up with my crummy pulley system without too much trouble. Versai was, among other things, strong. Being the Queen¡¯s personal thug required high fitness standards.

    Body after body after body. My own body was covered in gore. In what I can only call ¡®fluids,¡¯ because I don¡¯t know what they were. Bile, and hormonal secretions and spinal fluids and the grease from bone marrow. Hands slippery from shoving fatty guts back into bodies so they didn¡¯t tangle my feet as I walked. It was a nightmare, then Hell, then just something I had to do. It turns out the worst thing in the world becomes just a job with time.

    It was a long walk back to the wall. I tossed the body onto the platform, then stood on the platform next to it. Versai hauled us up. I jumped off at the top and hauled the bodies off. Then it was the slow job of schlepping them up the stairs. The gooey noises, the dull thuds. Up, up, up I went, then through the door to the Sky Realm and dump the body into the waiting cart. Again and again.

    Until there were none left. The ones in the forest were beyond my reach, but my range from the Tower had grown rapidly. I could walk around most of the clearing now. I don¡¯t know what the tipping point was, or what factor changed. I couldn¡¯t make anything ¡®useful,¡¯ but I could pick up trash. I could walk a bit. As the bodies left the Tower, so did the gore. At the end of it all, I was clean. My Tower was clean. I couldn¡¯t see any changes around me.

    But when I pressed my hand to my chest, I could feel the changes. Next stop, Hidden Moon Mountain. Time to teach the ghosts that even they are not beyond my reach.

 Vol. 2 Chap. 24 Bloody Hands and Cold Hearts

    Sebastian had prepared ten bottles of Ghost Touch Potion. It didn¡¯t last long after being applied to weapons, and he and I agreed that it was far better to be safe than sorry.

    ¡°So¡­ I really should have asked this ages ago, but how do we apply it to ranged weapons? We can¡¯t smear it on non-existant beams of light.¡± I had the insane image of just smearing it on Rakim¡¯s gun but that-

    ¡°Oh you just smear it on the bow or gun or whatever weapon you are using. Not complicated, really.¡± Sebastian smiled kindly. ¡®Kindly.¡¯

    I sighed. ¡°Yes, quite obvious now that you say it. That makes complete sense to  me. Mmmhmm. Whelp will ya look at that time. I¡¯m off.¡±

    I quickly marched out of the Sky Realm and made my way to the Throne Room. I planned on bringing the same crew with me for the return raid on Hungry Moon Mountain- Rikka, Rache, Miyuki, Rakim and Versai. They had a good combination of traits, and with the exception of Rache, good combat ability. The question for me was, when the raid started up again, would we be in the clearing, at the temple, or at the inn?

    Two chances in three that we won¡¯t be dropped straight in the clearing. I can also hedge my bet a little by making sure everyone is holding a potion when we start the mission. In the event that we do drop straight in, they can apply the potion immediately.

    The next problem was the fog hiding the ghosts. I didn¡¯t have a good solution for that. I puzzled over it for a bit, and concluded that my initial impression was correct. I really don¡¯t have a good solution for that. Fire was weirdly hard to start around here, outside of fire traps, and I wasn¡¯t sure it would help in the first place. I don¡¯t have a way to create magical wind, and in the event that the fog is just plain magic, I don¡¯t have any counter-magic.

    Well. Damn. I really don¡¯t want to wing this. ¡°Rikka, come to my Throne Room please.¡±

    I didn¡¯t jump four feet straight up when she emerged from the shadows next to my throne. At most, it was three feet eleven inches.

    ¡°Yes, Lord?¡±

    ¡°My heart!¡±

    ¡°Pardon?¡±

    ¡°No, no, never mind. I don¡¯t have a heart anymore ahahhahahahha oh god. Anyway! Do you know if the fog in the Heartless Clearing is natural or magical?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    I sighed mentally. It figured. Besides, there might not be much of a difference between the two in a Relic Site.

    ¡°What can you tell me about the Hungry Ghosts?¡±

    ¡°Generally, or the ones up on the mountain?¡± Rikka sounded utterly casual about the whole thing. Wish I was.

    ¡°Start with generally.¡±

    ¡°Hungry Ghosts are beings who suffered from powerful desire in life. Desire for food, wealth, power, anything, so long as it was their obsession.¡±

    Whelp. Guess I know my future then.

    ¡°And¡­ how do you kill them?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t.¡± Rikka looked completely unbothered by that fact. I saw her hand twitch, just a tiny, tiny bit, towards the charm hanging from her waist. ¡°You purify them.¡±

    ¡°Purify them?¡±

    ¡°Yes. To become a Hungry Ghost after death is a result of incorrect living. They lack virtue and are consumed by vice, namely desire. So purifying them of their desire is the way to defeat them.¡±

    ¡°Not¡­ you know¡­ stabbing them four hundred and seventy three times.¡± I asked, rubbing my forehead.

    ¡°What use would that be? They are already ghosts.¡±

    ¡°Right, but, aren¡¯t there any myths of people killing them? Like wise sages or cunning woodcutters or something?¡±

    ¡°The saints purify them, and sometimes people trick them into going back to Hell.¡± She shrugged. Rikka had really nice shoulders. I noticed it in a half attentive way, having stumbled over my own thoughts. ¡°I suppose if you did enough damage to their ghostly bodies, they would retreat to hell.¡±

    I nodded slowly, trying to find that ringing bell. Ghost Touch potion would probably work. Damage them enough, and they run away. But that¡¯s the brute-force option. Was there a better one? In the stories, it was always a clever trick by the smart peasant that saved the day in folktails. There were all kinds of anime shorts about that. A few tv series too. God, even xxxHolic was more-or-less about that.

    Lot of purifying in that story too. Wasn¡¯t the just-good-friends sidekick the junior priest of a Buddhist temple or something? And he got brought in on the ghost extermination jobs.

    The Woodcutter. In the story, there was a woodcutter and his wife who tricked the village headman into hunting his fellow villagers.

    ¡°Is there a woodcutter who lives with his wife on the mountain?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Many¡­ I would think.¡± Rikka¡¯s voice trailed off.

    ¡°You would think?¡±

    ¡°Forgive me my Lord, I know that it should be true, but I can only recall one at this time. I am willing to accept punishment!¡±

    ¡°Easy, easy. As long as you know where they are.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my Lord. I know where their hut is.¡±

    A number of things started clicking.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Have they been there for as long as you can remember?¡±

    ¡°I suppose so.¡±

    Oh yes. Click, click, click.

    We returned outside the Temple. I thought we might, the incense lighting ritual had the feeling of setting a checkpoint. The pine trees swayed gently in the breeze. The smell of them tickled my nose and reminded me of things I had never done. Never gone camping. Never wanted to go hiking. Never cut down my own Christmas tree, or any other kind of tree for that matter. I imagine the woodcutter would be unimpressed.

    It did seem a little weird. An off-grid bushcrafted cabin where he and his wife lived off the land was a Woodcutter¡¯s life. It wasn¡¯t a YouTube channel. It was the definition of rock-bottom subsistence existence. You were sub-peasant. Peasants had land to farm. A woodcutter had nothing.

    I positioned everyone like we were raiding one of the Empty people. Rikka was around the back, Versai would be coming in from the front, Rache was patrolling the extreme perimeter, with Rakim and Miyuki locking down the cabin from range. I was next to Rakim. She was my second best bodyguard, and I figured she would be fairly low on the aggro-generating table. Because the weak link in this lineup was, undoubtedly, me.

    An owl hooted softly in the night forest. Everyone, myself included, poured Ghost Touch potion over their weapons. It was scentless, and left the weapons looking strangely matte. As though the dim light of the stars wasn¡¯t hitting them properly.

    At my insistence, Versia silently bored a hole through the wall with her gauntleted finger. She then peaked through, and I could see her body language change. Surprise, perhaps?

    ¡°VERMIN!¡± Her war cry was downright gleeful. I was right. She just needed to see the target for the ability to trigger. And since it only worked on things that were physically stronger than her, I was right about the target too.

    Versai smashed through the wall shield first. The cabin blew apart like it was hit by a comet. She smashed into the ground, raising splinters and dirt. The targets must have been lying down.

    An arrow whistled out. I wasn¡¯t grinning yet but this raid start was about ideal. Once we pinned one of them down-

    A blade of light slashed out, cutting the light-arrow out of the sky.

    She was using Ghost Touch! How is that¡­ oh. Oh God DAMN IT!

    ¡°THEY CAN USE ETHEREAL ATTACKS! DON¡¯T BLOCK, DON¡¯T PARRY! ONLY DODGE!¡±

    Versai followed up on her ambush with a flurry of stabs- on who, I couldn¡¯t tell. The other had rolled up and grabbed an ax. They were the one who cut down Miyuki¡¯s snipe. Worse, they were rushing out of the cabin towards her.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you are bothering us. We are a simple husband and wife. Woodcutters, making our humble living in the forest.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t too worried about Miyuki getting caught. She was extraordinarily nimble. But since they were willing to divide up their forces, I¡¯d be silly not to take advantage. I patted Rakim on the shoulder and pointed her at the pursuing figure. Rakim brought her carbine up to her cheek, sited, and snapped off a few rounds.

    This time we caught them. The rounds slammed into the figure, staggering them. Putting holes in them. But didn¡¯t kill them. They didn¡¯t even knock them down. I glared. Between the voice and what little I could see from the flashes of light, it was the husband.

    ¡°We lead a simple life- cutting dead wood and then bringing it down the mountain. If we have to harvest green wood, I promise you that we let it dry very carefully before we sell it.¡± The ax blurred in his hands, sending a crescent of light out towards Rakim. Rakim dodged some of it, but it still caught her leg. I could see her dress immediately tear, and badly.

    They don¡¯t bleed. Their clothes just get more and more damaged until they die. But they sure can feel pain. And fear. And fury.

    I was already on the ground, crawling fast towards a rock I spotted five yards away. ¡°MIYUKI, RAKIM! Kill that thing for me!¡±

    Miyuki didn¡¯t need another reminder. Her long arrow came streaking in again, this time coming from the left side of the Woodcutter.

    It was a terrible angle. Unless you were a truly godly sniper.

    Miyuki had timed her attack with vindictive perfection. The Woodcutter had just launched its attack on Rakim, the ax now out of position to parry. His upper arms were pressed against the sides of his chest. The arrow flew in from a high angle. Through one shoulder, down, through the lungs, down and into the other arm. It didn¡¯t pin the woodcutter to the floor, but they were half killed regardless.

    And then the whistling started.

    I thought the giant was loud. It seems that the giant was just another common mob. This was the true whistling. The true terror. My mind went blank. The sound surpassed what my ears could withstand and I fell into a world of silence and horror. I could feel the fear beating on me, its thin claws sinking into the deepest parts of me. No matter how the rational mind screamed that this was a spell effect, that this terror worked for me, my body knew better.

    This was the sound of death. Inescapable, brutal death. My only thin hope was to run. Run, and hope some fatter prey was slower.

    Before I could force my legs into motion, three light bullets slammed into the Woodcutter¡¯s forehead. Rakim was apparently born with ear protection on.

    The woodcutter fell to his knees, then collapsed onto the dirt. The whistling sound slowly faded. He was dead.

    ¡°Rakim, two more in his head, please. Miyuki, go support Rikka and Versai.¡±

    My voice only hitched a couple of times. I think I held it together quite well, all things considered. I looked over at the battle on the other side of the forest. The woodcutter¡¯s wife was trading blows with Versai, and from what I could tell¡­ winning.

    Versai¡¯s sword was sharp, and uncanny fast. Impossibly fast. Yet the woodcutter¡¯s wife could dodge it. There would be a blur of silvery light that should have taken the wife¡¯s head off, but she would slip the cut, and counter with a hook to the gut. Versai would block with her shield. There would be a godawful CLANG! And Versai would be forced back a step.

    Impossibly strong. Impossibly fast. ¡°Rache, to me!¡±

    ¡°Yes boss?¡± She rode over in seconds.

    ¡°Orders for Rikka- set traps, particularly traps that will slow down the wife. Then work with Versai to lead her into them. Miyuki is to coordinate with them too. Tell them without letting anyone else overhear.¡± I whispered. Maybe pointlessly, but¡­ Versai was speed hacking, and this lady was keeping up. Something was very wrong here, and I had an awful guess what it was.

    ¡°Rakim, you stay here and guard me. Don¡¯t shoot unless I tell you to.¡±

    ¡°Yes Sir.¡±

    ¡°VERSAI! DRAG IT OUT!¡±

    ¡°YES, TOWER MASTER!¡± She shouted back. I got the distinct impression that she was muttering unkind things about me in her mind.

    Miyuki started chipping in. She could only shoot every thirty-ish seconds, but she used the time to move and change her angle of attack. The wife kept slipping the shots, inhuman reaction times pairing horribly well with inhuman speed. Versai capitalized on the distractions, chopping at the wife¡¯s arms or stabbing at her feet. She didn¡¯t land many hits, but each one inflicted wounds.

    My instincts were to have everyone rush in and dogpile the wife, bring her down and finish her on the ground. I controlled the urge. My instincts were screaming. A lifetime of JRPG¡¯s told me- don¡¯t do it. Don¡¯t you dare.

    Versai started a line of high-low attacks, lightning fast thrusts to the eyes followed up with smashes to the body by the shield. The wife counter attacked, but was still forced back a few steps. The darting tip of the sword seemed fatally attracted to the wife¡¯s eyes. The woodcutter¡¯s wife didn¡¯t seem to care for that one bit.

    Versai drove her back step by step. By step¡­ directly onto a spike. I could hear the crunch. I couldn¡¯t quite see it, but the way her leg suddenly bent, the way she suddenly lurched to a stop- Versai had driven the wife onto one of Rikka¡¯s traps. Then Miyuki¡¯s arrow came smashing in, piercing the wife straight through the heart.

    The noise transcended all reason. I froze. Too terrified to even run. The world plunged into silence. Vibrations in the air hummed the music of the apocalypse as they brushed across my skin. Soon, my nerves, every fiber of whatever artificial muscles I had been stuffed with, vibrated in horrified harmony.

    The arrow nearly killed me, standing tens of yards away. My eyes were fixed on the wife. Never mind my JRPG instincts, surely the wife was dead. The little crystal of lucidity trapped in the ink-storm of terror kept repeating the same thought- the noise will stop soon. She¡¯s dead. She has to be dead. The noise will stop soon, and you will live and it will be okay.

    The noise stopped. The wife had dislocated her shoulder. The arm reached around, stretching impossibly long as she pulled the arrow from out of her back. It seemed to snag on something, not willing to come out. Her other hand grabbed the front of the arrow, and sharply snapped her wrist down.

    She broke the front off an arrow of light. How did she break the arrow of light?! Even Titans thrashing around couldn¡¯t manage that, so how?!

    The long arm pulled the arrow clear and tossed it on the dirt. The arrow exploded in a cloud of light.

    ¡°Ah. There is always someone. Always. But I think this is the first time I have been pushed so far.¡±

    Oh no. I was so ready to be wrong. The voice started old and withered, but soon warmed up. The monster unfolded itself, discarding its ¡°human woman¡± costume.

    My first thought was a Jorogumo. There were so many legs. Claws. Dripping fangs. There was a stink to her, a smell of rotting fruits and half repressed memories of a time I did something I deeply regretted. As she unfolded and grew, I knew she wasn¡¯t a Jorogumo. She was something else entirely.

    The face on her was¡­ unspeakable. Awful. There was a bit of a spider there- six eyes, fangs, long whiskers and patchy fur. But there was also something of the bat to her face- the ears especially. A bat, and something of a wolf in those repeating eyes.

    Not a monster from Japanese folklore. Just a Monster.

    ¡°Well, perhaps you can consider this a reward for doing so well. Oh yes, little Tower Master. I¡¯m talking to you. Not your dolls. Do you call them dolls? That¡¯s what they are. They are toys made to suffer, but they aren¡¯t real. Not like me. Have you realized it yet? You are a doll too. You, too, are made to suffer. To be moved around and posed by things beyond your¡­ heh. ¡°Comprehension.¡±¡±

    ¡°And do you think you are any different, Monster?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± The thing spun slowly, it¡¯s many eyes taking in the battlefield. ¡°I am entirely different. You are made to suffer. But I? I am happy. Ah, you found me too soon. You are too weak. Your dolls are far, far too weak. This won¡¯t be much of a fight.¡± The monster sounded disappointed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been known to surprise people.¡± I fought to keep my nerve. I couldn¡¯t let it get in my head.

    ¡°Funny. So have I.¡± She chuckled, like an auntie enjoying her favorite show. Then she reared up on her hind legs and spat out a spiderweb that seemed to cover the sky, coming right for me.

    ¡°I¡¯m just full of surprises,¡± said the Dyn Hunllef. ¡°Let me show you.¡±

 Vol. 2 Chap. 25 I LOVE Playing Games

    ¡°No, absolutely not. Versai, slow her down. Rikka, set traps behind us. Miyuki, pick me up and run to the Temple. Everyone, we are falling back to the Temple. Right now.¡±

    I didn¡¯t try to whisper or anything. A bat-spider-wolf-monster thing is going to have hearing beyond all human comprehension. Besides, there were only so many places we could run to, now that it had broken cover. I had already turned and ran the second I saw the huge net headed my way.

    Funny thing- If I have stats, I don¡¯t know what they are or where to find them. But I don¡¯t get tired, my hands don¡¯t shake, and I can stab like a sewing machine in a sweatshop. So why can¡¯t my legs move as fast as my hand?

    And since combat is a terrible time to test new theories, I¡¯d have Miyuki ready to haul me away.

    The spiderweb was coming in plenty fast. I resolved to move faster. Head way forward, arms trailing behind, Naruto Run- GO!

    It takes a moment. It really does take some time to convince your body that muscles and nerve activation time aren¡¯t the restrictions they used to be. That some other force has set arbitrary limits on your capability, limits I have yet to discover. So I put my head down, and moved. Then moved. My feet hammered at the forest floor, slowly getting faster and faster.

    I wasn¡¯t as fast as speed hacking Versai. But I was moving a lot faster than I ever managed in my old life. The spiderweb hit the ground like gossamer landing on a blade of grass. I wasn¡¯t under it, and neither were my people.

    ¡°Quick as a bunny. Run, run, run! Let¡¯s make this last a long time.¡± The Dyn Hunllef still sounded like the Woodcutter¡¯s Wife. Her spider legs were whipping out at Versai, pressing her back even as Versai was speeding up. From what I could see looking over my shoulder, she wasn¡¯t faster than Versai, she just fought tactically.

    The monster had eight spider legs and two human-ish hands to work with. She used them to limit Versai¡¯s lines of attack, and to keep her on the defensive. Sooner or later, Versai would get through. Assuming she made absolutely no mistakes. And I wasn¡¯t going to gamble on that. The Dyn Hunllef seemed like a specialist in forcing mistakes.

    ¡°Versai, fall back with us. Just keep her off our backs as best you can!¡± I yelled. Nobody¡¯s gotten to ¡®her¡¯ before. She probably knows every nook and cranny of the mountain, every angle, but she hasn¡¯t lived it. Hasn¡¯t really been schemed at by people that knew what ¡®she¡¯ was.

    And, you know, not by people outright abusing the game system. Because if she had, she would be dead.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you think the Temple can save you. It¡¯s the ghost of a ghost. A remnant of a person who is, definitionally, in Hell. But I am right here. I am right here behind you. You can run all you want. Run as fast as you can. I love a chase.¡±

    The last sentence scraped down my spine, a claw running from the base of my skull and trailing down to just behind my heart. She was enjoying this. We weren¡¯t even trying to fight her. We were running. Trying to find somewhere safe. She was the hunter in the night. The monster. And we? Were prey.

    I sure felt like prey. Wasn¡¯t like the Temple was close. The woods were very dark. The pine forest felt stifling, the swaying needles in their millions combined to deafen our hearing, their crunch underfoot would tell even a blind hunter where we were. We couldn¡¯t know what was hiding in the moonless night. All we knew was that it couldn¡¯t be friendly.

    The horror grew slowly. The boughs whipped us as we ran past. The clash of steel on chitten. The monster¡¯s laughter bouncing off the trees. She didn¡¯t try to net us again. I think she was worried about it hanging up on the tree branches. Either that or she really did just want us to run. To catch us in her web just before we reached the ¡®safety¡¯ of the Temple. To torture us, violate us, dissolve us from the inside out and drink us up as we hung, helpless, watched by the protecting saint of this mountain.

    ¡°He can¡¯t save you. No one can save you.¡± She didn¡¯t have to speak. I knew what she was thinking.

    I forced myself to keep moving. Terror was as much one of her weapons as her claws and fangs. These maps were made to be beaten and conquered. It was just a matter of figuring out what order to do things in, and how to use all the resources available.

    I wasn¡¯t at all sure I got the order right. A smarter plan would have been to make sure Mrs. Hungry and her daughter were on hand and¡­ reliable. But this would do. It would have to do. I hoped. My ability to think and plan was slowly being squeezed out of me by the monster rushing behind me.

    Miyuki didn¡¯t scoop me up. Apparently, I was moving fast enough for her.

    There was a crash, and a shrill scream. ¡°YOU!¡±

    Ah. Rikka had been busy. I chanced a look backward. The monster had run into a pit trap, which didn¡¯t do much that I could see, but it did slow ¡®her¡¯ down just long enough to get hit by a falling tree. Not a very big tree, but it was enough to tangle ¡®her¡¯ up in its whippy branches. Maybe thirty seconds, or as long as a minute. Maybe not a minute. The monster was big, strong, and spider-shaped. Moving a tree wasn¡¯t that big a problem. Thirty seconds. Maybe just twenty five. Whatever I could get. I¡¯d take every step I could.

    I don¡¯t know how long it took to run to the Temple. The woods were so dark. The fear clawed at me. Pulled apart time like shreds of nerves and muscles. We didn¡¯t get tired. Our lungs didn¡¯t burn. Sweat didn¡¯t blind us. Fear had to do all the heavy lifting on its own.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to make it last. You know I can make it last forever. Trapped in this endless moment. I won¡¯t let you die. Won¡¯t let any of you die. I¡¯ll string you up and play with you, then heal you, then play some more, then heal you. You will remember entire lifetimes. I promise you. With enough pain, you will remember entire lifetimes where you were safe and loved. Then you will remember how you lost it all. Over and over. I will find out what hurts you the most, in every way. And you will live it forever.¡±

    Her words came out like a litany. Like an endless Buddhist chant. She promised torture of both body and mind. Her inflection landed all over her words, like a fly darting around the room. Like her voice was also a monster, looking for things to eat or places to lay eggs. Places that it could infect with maggots of terror.

    ¡°We are eating every world. Your world. Maybe it has already been eaten. How would you know? All your suffering, all your terror, those are our foods. We eat your flesh to hurt you and to make more of ourselves, but it is knowing you are in pain that fills our souls with light. Knowing that every instant of your existence is shame and agony. That, for you, there is neither joy, nor pleasure, not peace in existence. All those things are ours. All those things are reserved for us. You are the instrument of our pleasure. Our life¡¯s calling is heard in your screams, in your begging. When you cry for mercy.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    There was a shuddering, twitching feeling, wet and organic, in her voice. She loved this. There was nowhere she would rather be, nothing she would rather be doing.

    ¡°Oh, you are going to make me so happy! I can see the thoughts skittering in your mind, the little bits and pieces of you scrabbling for a way out. You think you are so smart. Not like the others. You are going to be the one who figures it all out. Who escapes. Maybe you want to rescue your little playthings. Do you imagine yourself with them, happy, at home? Do you play the sorts of games that make them scream and squeal with joy? I will make them scream. I will make them squeal like little piggies. You will watch every moment. You will feel every moment. You will help me hurt them. Over and over. Never allowing them to escape into death. Forever.¡±

    There was a ragged, panting edge to her words now. ¡°They never understand. The look in their eyes as you betray them. They never understand. Never expect it. Each time it¡¯s fresh and sharp. The one person in the entire universe who is worth their total loyalty, and you will betray them. You will trade hours of agony for them, for minutes of less pain for yourself. You will resent them. You will believe that you only suffer because they need someone to lead them. They forced you to be in this world. They tricked you into caring. They lied to you about protecting you, that they cared about you. It was all to get you here. To drag you down into the pain with them.¡±

    She laughed, a happy sound. Louder and louder, winding through the dark forest.

    ¡°One day. Well, not a day. Some time in the eternal night of your existence, you will come to thank me. To appreciate me. You will be grateful that you can serve me. You will agree that all your agony and suffering are good for no other reason than I want it. You will reach a strange plateau- I have seen it before. You will reach a strange plateau where you still suffer, but the fear leaves you and it becomes a sort of joy. There will be a satisfaction to watching me bite off your fingers. You will smile as you rip clumps of hair off your doll¡¯s heads. That is when you will be truly broken. And then I will heal you.¡±

    The laughter kept getting louder, it was deafening now, it was like she was screaming in my ear.

    ¡°I will heal you. I will guide your mind back to where it is now. I will make you remember why this should scare you. Why your suffering is a tragedy. I will make it all awful again, but you will remember the comfort being broken brought you. You will be scared of being broken again, knowing it will happen more easily the next time. I will play with you this way, until I decide it will be more pleasurable to torture you into forgetting. I will make you seal your own memories, so you forget breaking over and over. I will make you believe your nightmare has just begun. And we will do it all again. I swear I will never get bored. I promise you. I will never accidentally kill any of you. You will live forever, here, with me. In the dark.¡±

    Rikka was doing her best, but deadfalls and pit traps don¡¯t work very well on giant spider monsters. Versai was doing her part too, dashing in to try and hack off a leg, but she couldn¡¯t get the rhythm right. The monster was eerily practiced. She always seemed to put a tree between herself and Versai, or took a shot at a slower Awakened, making Versai defend instead of attacking.

    ¡°No fighting back allowed,¡± she seemed to be saying. Not even pretend hitting from you lost kittens.¡±

    Were we lost? Did it take this long to get to the Temple? There were no landmarks in the dark woods, barely a trail to follow. We could be going around in circles and I¡¯d never know.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t this feel familiar? Have you done this before? Have we done this before? Is this another one of my little games, letting you run and run only to catch you again? I love to run and hunt. You hate to be hunted. Ah! Everything looks the same, doesn¡¯t it? Every tree is the same in these dark woods. And you are running towards a temple to a monster that traps and eats people. Like a spider. Like a murderer. That¡¯s your hope. That¡¯s your confidence- the shrine of a cannibal ghost. Can you imagine how terrible it would be if that was a fake rumor I spread? That the shrine could protect people from ghosts, and demons? Protect them from monsters?¡±

    But I was recognizing things. I knew that big rock with the pine tree behind it. We were coming up on the Temple now. The temple was surrounded by a big clearing. She would net us. No two ways about it. She would net us the instant we could.

    ¡°Versai, stall her as best you can. Buy us a few seconds then fall back! Everyone! Scatter when you reach the clearing, then converge in the temple. Miyuki- SHOOT HER AS SOON AS YOU HAVE A CLEAR SHOT!¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t stop me. It didn¡¯t the last time you tried. Nothing can stop me in this place. Don¡¯t you see? I¡¯m the hidden radiance of the mountain. I AM the Hidden Moon. And I am always hungry.¡±

    We hit the clearing and, bless them, my summons scattered. Rache was already inside the temple and looking out. Rikka was franticly waving for me to go to one side of a particular patch of grass, but she, too, was moving like a horrible sadistic monster was chasing her. They all were. I didn¡¯t see Miyuki, but I could hear Versai going to work. Rakim was the one I most worried about.

    Rakim wasn¡¯t, in any way, quick on her feet. I honestly didn¡¯t know if she kept up with the rest of us while we ran. In an odd way, I hope she didn¡¯t. She¡¯s a Four Star. She has enough sense to keep back and ambush.

    God, I hope she has enough sense.

    I tore up the grass, running a zig zag towards the temple. No need to make her shot easy. I risked a look back. She had bulled her way through Versai and was into the clearing now. She was looking right at me now. She was smiling at me now. There was something moving and shifting inside her. Something is coming. A web? A spit of poison? Thousands of tiny spiders? I tried to squeeze every scrap of strength out of my legs. Every tiny bit of speed that there was.

    Some remnant of my ancient ape ancestors screamed at me. I dodged down and left. I could feel something barely miss my right shoulder. I could feel the wind of its passing hissing against my neck. One more step to the left, then cut back to the right and towards the door. There was something sticking out of the grass. A long dart, tied to silk rope. A harpoon of bone and silk.

    ¡°VERMIN!¡±

    ¡°Oh you will PAY for that!¡± The CLANG was enormously loud. I was only thirty feet from the door. Twenty. Ten.

    And then there was Mrs. Hungry standing in the doorway. She had a long hook in one hand.

    ¡°STOP HIM!¡±

    Mrs. Hungry nodded and raised the hook.

    ¡°You are being very weird right now!¡± It was all I could think to yell. ¡°That is very rude!¡±

    It seemed to throw her. ¡°It is?¡±

    I dove past her. It was either maybe dying at her hands or definitely dying to the monster. I chose maybe.

    ¡°It is. The monster only wants you to suffer. I want you to be fulfilled. To, literally, feel full.¡±

    ¡°Oh. That makes sense. Mrs. Hungry nodded. She had ignored Rache.

    ¡°Where is Yoko?¡±

    ¡°Around.¡±

    ¡°DAMN YOU! YOU AND YOUR ¡°DAUGHTER¡± WILL HURT FOR DELAYING MY HUNT!¡±

    Oof. Something was pissing her off. I chanced a look out the door. Versai had gotten her down with her Ult, and from the look of things, hacked off the rope with the harpoon on the end of it. Since it came from the inside of the Monster, I¡¯m guessing that more than stung. She was keeping her distracted too- she had gotten on the monster¡¯s back and was doing her best to stab a hole clean through her.

    Unfortunately for Versai, the monster wasn''t dumb. She lept straight up and twisted in the air, flipping her huge body around and dumping off Versai. It looked like the monster was going to land right on top of her. Miyuki had other ideas.

    Her arrow came from behind. I didn¡¯t see where it hit, but I can guess. A muffled whistling noise started. Horribly loud. Horribly loud, but still muffled. Coming from behind the ugly beast.

    The scream of outrage was the best thing I had heard in ages. The monster spun and spun, trying to catch her own tail and rip out the arrow.

    It was a start. But we were no closer to killing the beast.

    Rikka came jogging into the temple. She had a quick look around, and frowned. ¡°There is no more incense.¡±

    I looked over. She was right.

    ¡°Is now really the time?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Whenever you come, you have to make an offering.¡±

    Ah, that had ¡®hidden rule¡¯ written all over it.

    ¡°Mrs. Hungry, could you call over your daughter please?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    The screams intensified. The beast was getting closer to the temple. ¡°Will you please call her over?!¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m hungry.¡±

    Ah. Well. That¡¯s not good.

    ¡°I¡¯m hungry. I need to eat. Do you have food?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ do not.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m hungry. You should feed me. I¡¯m hungry. You should feed me since you have so much meat.¡±

    ¡°The monster out there has more meat. Way more. And she¡¯s already injured, and she¡¯s all alone. I have friends. People that will hurt you if you try to take my meat. My meat¡¯s not worth it.¡±

    Mrs. Hungry spun her hook, thinking. Weighing me. Weighing the odds. A silent god looking down on us both.

 Vol. 2 Chap. 26 Welcoming the Lord

    I looked around, trying not to look like prey. Rikka was right- the tray for incense was empty, and the little sand holder for the incense sticks was empty. Something clicked.

    ¡°Ah! Mrs. Hungry, you don¡¯t have any incense to offer. What are you going to offer Lord Welcome?¡±

    ¡°Mmm? Oh. Yes. He needs an offering. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s hungry too. Mmm. Maybe you could be an offering.¡±

    I waved my hands quickly. ¡°He gave up cannibalism, remember? He¡¯s off correcting the demons in Hell. But there is a cannibal monster outside that you could beat up. That could be an offering to Lord Welcome.¡±

    I got the impression that Mrs. Hungry was giving me a look  through her curtain of hair. ¡°That sounds convenient.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s about teamwork. It¡¯s what humans do. We help each other.¡± I lied.

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    There was a lot of weight on that ¡°Oh.¡± I quickly amended.

    ¡°It¡¯s what we should do.¡±

    She nodded at that. I could feel the statue of Lord Welcome pressing down on us. The robe that seemed to absorb all light, the skeletal hands. The sounds from outside were pressing down as well. The monster had one of Miyuki¡¯s yard-long arrows buried inside of her and while she sure didn¡¯t sound happy about that fact, she was still plenty lively. I had people out there. People who could die depending on what happened in here.

    For that matter, I could die too. Which wasn¡¯t something I could ignore. There were still two pieces I was missing- Yoko, and those little netsuke hanging off of Rika and Miyuki¡¯s belts. They weren¡¯t coincidental. They even gave Rikka a turn undead power that worked for a few seconds. That wasn¡¯t nothing, even if it was limited to this Relic Site.

    No, there were missing pieces. I needed a high-speed explanation. Or at least an explanation. Maybe I could buy high speed.

    ¡°Could you please explain to me, quite quickly, what¡¯s the story about the little figurine hanging from Rikka¡¯s waist?¡±

    I tossed her some Runed Bones. There was a Hell of a fight going on outside. My Awakened were buying time with their blood.

    ¡°There isn¡¯t much of a story. It¡¯s Saint Emi. He is the saint that enlightened Lord Welcome.¡±

    ¡°Why is Lord Welcome venerated here and not Saint Emi?¡±

    ¡°Saint Emi is a fighter¡¯s saint. Battling demons and rebuking devils, correcting the wicked, that is what he does. Lord Hungry wants to save people. He even wants to save the demons and the devils. He¡¯s just not stupid about it. Sometimes, even a ghost needs a punch in the mouth before it will listen. This is a mountain full of demons and devils. They prefer enshrining one of their own. And so does the Lord.¡±

    Her voice was utterly calm. As though ghost punching was routine. I thought back hard. Hadn¡¯t¡­ yes!

    ¡°So why does Yoko wear one of the little figurines?¡±

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t want to save the ghosts and demons here, she wants to destroy them.¡±

    But she makes temple incense for Lord Welcome because you never know when you might need a hand. And because it gives people a reason not to attack her.

    ¡°Got it. Well then, I think you know what  your daughter would want you to do. There is a monster out there. A spirit to be rebuked and destroyed. She would tell you it¡¯s the right thing to do. Hell, she may be out there already, hiding and waiting for her chance.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    There was a long pause. Mrs. Hungry didn¡¯t move a muscle. The noise from outside was¡­ ugly. I was hearing Rakim¡¯s carbine now, which meant she was engaging rather than keeping hidden and making her way to the Temple. Which means she couldn¡¯t stay hidden for one reason or another. And any of those reasons would be bad news for us.

    ¡°Mrs. Hungry, please! Please go out there and help them. It¡¯s what a human should do. It¡¯s what your daughter would want. It¡¯s what the mountain needs.¡±

    ¡°So?¡±

    No question- she was one of the Empty People. A predatory bird mimicking human noises to get closer to its prey. And the hungry people¡­

    ¡°I can make you feel fulfilled! I can fill up that emptiness inside of you!¡±

    She looked up at that. I don¡¯t think she realized that she was tapping her cold iron hook against her leg. ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°When people come to work for me, they are remade by the Gods! Their body transforms, their minds transform, they find joy and purpose in their employment. We also have luxury dorms with their own lounge area, and if you or your daughter are rated Six Stars, you can have your own highly luxurious private rooms. We have a garden your daughter could tend to, and lots and lots of prey throw themselves at our Tower every night. So many, just picking up the bodies is a major chore. All this is true- I¡¯ll swear it in front of Lord Welcome.¡±

    The hook went still. ¡°Good enough. If you lie, I will eat you.¡±

    ¡°Fair. Completely fair. We need to conquer this mountain before you can come work for me, and for that, we need to kill the monster outside.¡±

    Mrs. Hungry nodded her head. ¡°I can¡¯t kill her. But I¡¯ll hurt her. Maybe someone else will finish the job.¡±

    She was gone in the space of a blink. There was the most incredible scream. I whipped back to face Lord Welcome. I had one other play, one other gamble to try. No incense? Have to offer something else. Some other sacrifice carried up by the smoke.

    I knelt in front of the statue. ¡°Lord Welcome¡­¡± I reached into my pouch and pulled out five of my remaining Cutthroat Clothier Receipts. ¡°These are debts owed to me. I can exchange them for goods to make my servants more powerful. I can exchange them for information that can expand my domain. I can do a lot with this. It is, in a word, power. And I offer it to you. Please. The monster outside. The Dyn Hunllef outside is a thing that delights in suffering for the sake of making others suffer. It exists to make others scared and hurt. If anything needs suppression, it does. Please. Suppress it. Protect my people. And we will send it down to Hell for you to educate  them.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    I offered up the little paper tickets with both hands and put them down next to the incense burner. There was a candle nearby. I¡¯d just burn the receipts and-

    And I would do no such thing, apparently. The receipts were floating upward. There was an unspeakable sound, like waterfalls of bone rosaries, like the rubbing of the hinges on the gates of Hell. The skeletal hand reached out and caught the receipts that had expanded to the size of bedsheets and landed softly in his palm.

    Accepted

    Something dreadful descended on the temple. I don¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t describe it. Something that should not be. Something beyond human. Lord Welcome wasn¡¯t a hungry ghost. The myths were wrong. He was something vast. Something that didn¡¯t exist on any sort of human scale. The myths were wrong! They were wrong! There was a ringing in my ears. A shaking sound like the hidden bells of the world were screaming a final alarm.

    The temple faded away. It just¡­ faded out of existence. The battle outside rested on a knife¡¯s edge. Versai¡¯s clothes were torn up- her steel armor in tatters. Her shield was still held high, and her sword was strong in her hand, but she couldn¡¯t last much longer. Mrs. Hungry was on the monster¡¯s back, covered in unspeakable fluids. Iron hooks had been sunk into the Dyn Hunllef, and she was hanging on to them. Ripping chunks out. Dodging the rolls and stabbing claws and acid the monster spat.

    Rakim was shooting from the woods, and I could see Rikka popping in and out of shadows to slash at the monster¡¯s legs. They could hurt it, but only barely. We would lose this fight. And then Lord Welcome intervened.

    Lord Welcome was not a god. A god should have some feeling of the divine. This was alien, purely alien. He pulled an iron token from within his black robe. Carved upon it was a sigil, a morass of twisting lines and jagged edges. There was a profound truth hidden within, but to comprehend it one must go mad.

    I could feel the edges of my mind peeling back, like dead skin, like a banana peel. I could feel the edges of my mind peeling back and I knew that madness wasn¡¯t the only way. Death was another door to understanding, and far from the most terrifying. The iron token was immeasurable- what line, what mortal counting could quantify those infinitely inverting and recursive forms? What human words could trap the shapes within the sigil?

    ¡°HAIL LORD WELCOME. HAIL LORD WELCOME!¡± I was chanting. When did I start chanting? I was kowtowing, groveling. I didn¡¯t want to. I don¡¯t think Lord Welcome even noticed. It was some remnant shred of human, hidden inside this doll¡¯s body. Get low. Be small. Be funny, or useful, or anything but an eyesore. Best of all, be invisible.

    The token stretched out over the battlefield and¡­ something¡­ pressed down on the Dyn Hunllef. Some force, some shimmering in the air. Something pressed down on the drider-horror and suppressed it. The monster screamed, first in outrage then in horror. It didn¡¯t have words for this either, I think.

    ¡°HAIL LORD WELCOME. HAIL LORD WELCOME!¡± I was chanting, rocking back and forth. My awakened weren¡¯t overwhelmed. They saw the Dyn Hunllef being pressed into the ground and got stuck in. Versai wasn¡¯t using her speed hack. Some tiny remnant of my mind noticed that- she was attacking with all furious speed, but not nearly as fast as she could. Rikka, Rache, Rakim, they were all piling in. Miyuki was sinking her yard-long arrows into the monster, pinning its legs to the ground. The whistles of the arrows were lost in the clanging, in the storm of warning chimes Lord Welcome provoked in the world.

    The air was shaking, twisting, distorting. ¡°HAIL LORD WELCOME. HAIL LORD WELCOME!¡±

    No, I was wrong. It was the world itself. This tiny shard of existence called a Relic Site couldn¡¯t bear the weight of this existence. The fabric of this place was stretching and distorting around the intruding presence. If we didn¡¯t win quickly, we would suffer an indefinable death. The exact form of that death couldn¡¯t possibly be described. Not by something that used eyes to see and a mouth to speak.

    ¡°HAIL LORD WELCOME. HAIL LORD WELCOME!¡±

    I couldn¡¯t help chanting. Stopping was inconceivable. It was all I could do- kneel there and glorify the great one descending on this little mountain. But there was still one more person to join the scene.

    I smelled the incense before I saw her. It snaked over and through the night air like a snake made of balsam and roses. Temple incense or something else- I didn¡¯t recognize the smell.

    ¡°Hail Lord Welcome. Thank you for visiting this mountain and suppressing the monsters here. You have done a very nice job. Mother and the disposable people here can finish up the rest. Why don¡¯t you go have a seat over there and return to Hell? I¡¯m sure you have lots to do down there.¡±

    Yoko walked out of the darkness holding three long sticks of burning incense. Her wooden geta sank silently into the grass as her snow white tabi were unstained by the muck of the world. She was, to my wonder, pouting.

    She looks like Fern. That is a Fern pout. Oh my heart! But it was only a very small part of my heart that thought that. The rest of me was filled with ¡°HAIL LORD WELCOME. HAIL LORD WELCOME!¡±

    The Dyn Hunllef bucked and struggled wildly, but too much had changed in the last few minutes. She was pinned by arrows. There were long rents in her back, ripped open and widened by iron hooks. Versai managed to hack off one human arm, and was coming for the head at speed. Rakim was taking full advantage of the no-friendly-fire feature and shooting directly into the melee. She was coming for the head too.

    Yoko raised her hands, long sleeves trailing and bowed as she offered the incense. ¡°Please return. You are needed in Hell. Thank you for visiting. No need to linger. One way or another, we can sort out the rest.¡±

    The world was starting to get thin in places. I could see the membrane of existence pulling. At any moment it would tear. I couldn¡¯t muster any fear about that fact. Lord Welcome¡¯s presence weighed too heavily on my mind. It was an indifference.

    ¡°Return, great one. Return.¡± Yoko took two steps closer, bowed and offered the incense again.

    There was a sensation of a sigh filling the world. The iron tablet was retracted. The temple returned to existence and I could suddenly breathe. I could suddenly think. I tipped over onto my side and curled up into the fetal position and just¡­ held on.

    ¡°DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU! THAT¡¯S NOT HOW YOU PLAY! DAMN YOU!¡±

    Oh, it seems that the Dyn Hunllef felt things were unfair. What a pity. I couldn¡¯t be curled up on the floor, could I? This was just like the incident in middle school. You just need to repress. You just need to choke it down and never talk about it, even though everyone saw and everyone knew. You just choke it down and keep on like nothing happened, because otherwise you never get up off the floor.

    And for all the terrible things people have said about me, and that I have said about myself, I can pride myself on this. I get up off the God Damned Floor. I don¡¯t live in the gray room of depression and fear. I get up off the floor, open the door and make a world I like. So. I¡¯d choke this down too. I couldn¡¯t help my summons more than this, but I¡¯d watch them finish the fight.

    I crawled over to the door and out onto the Temple¡¯s porch. Mrs. Hungry was excavating the innards of the Dyn Hunllef. Like some kind of wasp eating a paralyzed spider. The surviving human arm of the monster was covered in a dull silver sheen, clashing with Versai¡¯s blade in a shower of sparks. I had wondered how she was holding out. She could turn parts of herself into metal.

    Shape shifter, her husband could do magic ranged attacks with an ax, She could do ranged attacks with a mouth-launched harpoon, she could turn parts of her into metal, she had crowd control, poison abilities AND she was fast enough to keep up with speed hacking Versai¡­

    How in the actual expletive were you supposed to beat this thing without calling in a reality destroying thing from beyond the veil?!

    ¡°You don¡¯t get to talk about cheating. You busted freak. You unbalanced, unpatched offense to game design and aesthetics. EVERYONE! JUMP THIS THING AND KILL HER FOR ME!¡±

    My awakened swarmed in like hungry beasts. Rikka was shanking the monster like she just caught her snitching. Rakim walked out of the treeline, carbine up, punching round after round in. Even Rache was getting in on the action with driving slashes along the monster''s legs. It wasn¡¯t a battle any more. It was a slaughter.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t right! You damned things, this isn¡¯t right! This isn¡¯t how it¡¯s supposed to go! They aren¡¯t supposed to be in this world. They aren¡¯t supposed to be in any world!¡±

    I didn¡¯t respond. Firstly, because I didn¡¯t want to agree with a monster that was really eager to torture me for an eternity, and secondly, because I was a lot closer to the epicenter of everything than she was. The being didn¡¯t descend. I could tell. What landed here was just its attention, not even a projection of its true self. If it had¡­ we wouldn¡¯t have the luxury of obliteration.

    I sat on the edge of the porch and kept my eyes firmly on the monster. Watching her being torn to pieces. Some part of me, some shred of self that still had a Metro card as well as OMNY installed on his phone, knew that I should be revolted. That I should be terrified. This was a fully sentient being. She could feel. She could think and reason better than the things killing her. Certainly better than Rache and Miyuki.

    I should feel horrified. After eight days of slaughter, I just felt impatient. The longer she took to die, the more risk there was to my Awakened. I forced myself to be patient. It would happen soon enough.

    Versai dropped her shield and put two hands on her long sword. With an explosive step she lifted the blade in an upward slash, cutting through the shoulder joint and sending the last human arm flying. Another step, and she buried an iron boot in the creature¡¯s gut, stepped on the flesh like a ledge, then swung the blade down again. A monstrous head flew up and landed in the grass in front of me.

    Job done. I looked up at the sky. No announcement. We had to resolve things at the clearing first. No surprise there. No wonder the critter was so mad. We really had gone out of order. She was meant to be the final boss.

    I looked over at Yoko. She had placed the incense neatly in the sand holder, and was looking at the statue of Lord Welcome. A touch reproachfully, I thought.

    I coughed.

    ¡°Well done! Very well done everyone. Excellent team effort. Good job ensuring we didn¡¯t get tortured for eternity.¡± I coughed again, as the bowel liquifying terror of the chase through the woods slowly intruded back into my memory. Choke it down, lalala! Choke it all the way down. Nothing bad ever came from repressing things. All the way down, lalala la la.

    ¡°And speaking of team efforts, I¡¯m pretty done with this whole damn mountain. Let¡¯s finish strong, everyone!¡±

    ¡°And then you will pay me.¡± Mrs. Hungry said, her bloody hooks hanging from her hands.

    I coughed a third time and nodded. Fast.

 Vol. 2 Chap 27 The Ninth Wave is Going to Suffer

    ¡°I had expected there to be a monster hiding somewhere. It felt inevitable. But candidly, I didn¡¯t see the Woodcutter or his Wife being it. And if one of the two was going to be the monster, I¡¯d have put money on the Woodcutter.¡±

    ¡°Why? Not like you had met either.¡± Versai asked. She looked mummified. I had returned us to the Tower to heal up again. Since progress through the relic site didn¡¯t reset, there was absolutely no reason to press on to the clearing in anything less than tip-top condition.

    ¡°He was the named character. Where there is a name, there is plot. Besides, a nefarious woodcutter practically seethes with dramatic possibility. Think about how much opportunity there was for playing up the cunning peasant trope. ¡°Ah. I know things. Terrible things. Come into my very safe, very normal hut. Don¡¯t mind my wife, she is just preparing¡­ THE MEAT!¡±¡± I let my voice rise to a shriek at the end, capping my performance with a thrusting, trembling finger.

    ¡°Oh God, it really is some kind of rotting disease. Pammy, dear, can you bandage brains?¡±

    ¡°Um. Um. Um. Pammy will do her best?¡±

    ¡°Versai, when you get right down to it, if you aren¡¯t crazy after who-knows-how-many deaths, then how could I possibly be crazy?¡±

    ¡°We are far, far beyond anything I ever experienced, Tower Master. Far beyond. For all I know, your progression is normal.¡±

    ¡°Crazy is normal?¡±

    She shrugged her elegant shoulders and spread her noble hands. ¡°Could be.¡±

    I would usually consider Versai oppressively, even crushingly, beautiful. For some reason, the shine had gone off her at the moment. I sneered, but genteely. For I am a gracious lord, who has only briefly considered installing an oubliette, whatever that actually is.

    ¡°Moving swiftly along. We will re-enter, collect Mrs. Hungry and Yoko, then make for the clearing. We suppress or banish the Hungry Ghosts up there, which are hopefully no relation to Mrs. Hungry, and figure out what¡¯s the what with the Heartless Clearing. Which will hopefully wrap up the conquest.¡±

    ¡°So we should expect another fight? On the scale of the last one, I mean.¡± Her expression turned grim.

    ¡°I¡­ hope not. Did the Ghost Touch potions work at all on her?¡±

    ¡°Yes, somewhat, but less than they should have. And they really don¡¯t last long. They are only a coating on the blade, after all. After a few exchanges, they are largely wiped off.

    I grunted. That should have been obvious. An ointment or oil on a blade was almost always a temporary buff in games. After killing the Woodcutter and scrapping with the pre-transformation Wife, how much could have been left on the weapons? Leaving aside the ranged weapons, because at a certain point video game logic just flips you the bird and maintains firm eye contact as it pisses in your Mountain Dew.

    After all, this isn¡¯t the first time.

    ¡°Alright, let''s restock them and get ready to roll out. Have any ideas about how to deal with the fog?¡±

    ¡°None, Tower Master.¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Well. Let¡¯s do our best.¡±

    I called up the interface to launch the expedition. The Launch button was grayed out.

    ¡°What¡­ why can¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Err¡­ Tower Master, did you forget you can only launch one expedition a day?¡±

    I wanted to cry. I really had. This wasn¡¯t fair. The mission should be done! I should be able to wrap up everything today, start the virtuous cycle spinning today! I let the wave of self pity wash over me. Just savored the hell out of it for ten, twenty seconds. Then I exhaled explosively and firmly clapped my hands to my cheeks.

    I achieved a major milestone in conquering the Relic Site, but we had taken major damage too. Versai couldn¡¯t have been on much more than ten percent health. The others were a bit better because they weren¡¯t tanking, but from what I could see, everybody picked up some degree of damage.

    Fighting intangible ghosts in a fog on ten percent health? That wasn¡¯t ballsy, that was suicidal. We were simply not in good enough shape for that fight.

    Worst for our readiness was me- physically unharmed, but after the descent of Lord Welcome and the battle with the Woodcutter couple, I was less than sharp. I needed time to get my own head straight. The person giving the orders had to have a clear head and a firm heart, or everybody would die.

    If I couldn¡¯t remember something as important as ¡°You can only launch one expedition a day,¡± then I wasn¡¯t capable of leading a battle. No two ways about it. Coming back, healing up, getting ready for the next fight, these were all absolutely key.

    No more Kims. Which meant no acting spoiled because you didn¡¯t get your way in the Relic Site. Not one more dead Awakened, especially over something stupid. So. Grab your deeply worrying scepter, try not to dwell on how its previous owner got the name ¡°The Pruning King¡± and think about how you are going to use your few remaining orders to clear the Ninth Wave.

    I thought swiftly. The back door wasn¡¯t open¡­ yet. The game clearly wanted me to open it on my own, or at the very least, didn¡¯t mind leaving a hidden pitfall for me. The fast monsters attacking from the rear were a bit of a give away, but it did suggest that the game wasn¡¯t ¡°cheating¡± and sending attacks based on the types of defenses we currently had.

    Whether it was cheating by upping the difficulty based on results was still to be determined. And since proving it would probably require losing people, I wasn¡¯t motivated enough to experiment. For the moment, the question was irrelevant.

    Hmm. Assume enemies will be coming from the rear. Most efficient arrangement, in an ideal world, would be a perfectly circular giant wall with one door that led to a giant looping spiral that took the monsters around a trap-filled track over and over again, as my battalion of Radzs dropped mortar rounds on their heads.

    Alas, I do not exist in an ideal world. Slightly more realistically then. How do I manage my defenses, given that I was now on honest to Goddess order time?

    Take the back door off the table for one thing. In fact, take the whole back of the Tower off the table to the maximum extent possible. The fast monsters could dig, but investigating the bottom of the wall showed that, while they moved an alarming amount of dirt, it wasn¡¯t like they were excavation experts. Dirt filled in from above, and they were trying to dig through yards of dirt horizontally and vertically before they could even reach my reinforced concrete door. They were a manageable problem. The issue was, as always, the never-sufficiently-damned Murder Baboons. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Ordinary monsters could climb a bit, but were so dumb I really wasn¡¯t worried about them scrabbling up a wall. The Baboons, however, were little problem solvers. And that I didn¡¯t like one bit. They were exactly the sort to find or make an opening, climb, and flank while we were focused on the front, or had split one watcher out to cover the rear.

    I brooded. Not in self pity this time, it was productive brooding.

    It wasn¡¯t about fields of fire this time. It wasn¡¯t even about slowing them down. The little horrors were quick in a burst, but they were probably no faster than the standard monster, or even a bit slower over distance. Ambush predators. We didn¡¯t need to slow them down, we needed to break their cover so that we could shoot them up.

    The back door problem was simple- just turn the dirt pile into a proper wall. Sheer thickness would be the name of the game here- make it yards thick, same as the front of the Tower. Don¡¯t worry about opening an exit for workers for now. That¡¯s Tomorrow Me¡¯s problem. The wall should meet up with the existing walls and bastions, but rather than give it a flat top, make the top very sharply sloping.The wall should blend smoothly into the side of the Tower, so there was nowhere for even a baboon to stand.

    I ran that thought through a second time and carefully circled the words ¡°baboon¡± and ¡°stand.¡± Might need a little refinement there. Maybe ring the new wall with some kind of barrier that jutted out away from the Tower like those Y shaped barbed wire tops on prison fences. Whether you were climbing in or out, you would have to get past the overhang. Except I still didn¡¯t have barbed wire or concertina wire so other than giving baboons a fun climbing structure, what was the point?

    I tried to remember what they did back in the real world when they wanted to keep people off something. Anti-Bum spikes didn¡¯t seem relevant here. The long pigeon spikes they put on top signs did, but I couldn¡¯t make those any more than I could make barbed wire. Sometimes they put broken glass or something at the top of cement walls, literally lodged into the cement. But I didn¡¯t have a metric ton of glass bottles so that was¡­

    I looked over at Versai, and a rather bright light switched on.

    I do have a ton of glass bottles. Time to put an order in with Sebastian.

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s the wall sorted, but now we have to figure out anti-invisibility measures, given that we have no new supply of Blue Magnesium.¡±

    ¡°Pardon, Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°The Murder Baboons-¡±

    ¡°No, I mean, what do you mean the wall is sorted? You just stared at the Snoot of Joy for a while after I asked if you forgot about the one-expedition-per-day rule.¡±

    She looked genuinely concerned. Which¡­ didn¡¯t make me feel good, to be honest. I was starting to treat them like dolls again. I could see myself bouncing between the extremes- too much empathy, and none. Finding a stable path through¡­ I don¡¯t know how I¡¯m going to manage it.

    ¡°Sorry. Spending a lot of time in my head. I had forgotten, and now I¡¯ve moved on to defeating the next wave. Keeping you all alive and healthy. You got pretty badly beat up fighting that Monster.¡±

    Versai fixed her own eyes on the golden wiener dog. ¡°She was as fast as I was. Even when I was using the¡­ exploit. She could keep up. I would have been completely helpless against her without it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, she was clearly someone we weren¡¯t supposed to beat in a head-on fight. I¡¯m not sure we cleared that mission in the ¡®right¡¯ way, but we did it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s just¡­¡±

    I kind of smiled. I sort of understood. She felt invincible for a hot minute, and then had it yanked away. I don¡¯t need to grasp every tiny detail of the human heart to know that feeling must completely suck.

    ¡°We will figure out something else. Then you will be speed hacking AND whatever the new goodness is. Then there will be a third thing, and a fourth, and eventually you will be strong enough to slaughter demons and behead devils.¡±

    She had that protagonist aura. Not the little whiny manlet protag-kun aura, the real deal aura. She would get there. I could be the base commander. She would be the hero on all the game art, leading the others to Glorious Victory. I would be the hidden hand, the Eminence in¡­

    No, no. Arrogance is forbidden. I am not atomic.

    At least, not yet.

    ¡°Versai, did you know that you are good for my mood?¡±

    ¡°I am, Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°Yep. You sure are. Come on. I do have a small idea on a solution to the baboon problem. And it¡¯s so dumb, I love it.¡±

    We wound up skipping the inward sloping roof. We did wind up making an overhang. We weren¡¯t dropping things on the monsters below, so why not? And given the walls in the back were now as high as the walls in the front AND were attached to the moat, well, why not? No bastions or other outcroppings for artillery or crossfire. This was just a big chunky layer of dirt armor protecting the Tower inside. The exterior layer was smooth stone, tightly fitted, highly polished and hopefully unclimbable.

    The overhang and the top of all the walls was now coated with a dense layer of broken glass and ceramic pot shards. Each piece was long enough to shred a hand badly, and thick enough to not break easily. I loved it. There was also an utter mountain of ¡°Nasty Surprise¡± waiting, and I couldn¡¯t wait to deploy that too.

    ¡°Remember, it¡¯s never a war crime the first time.¡± I reassured everyone.

    ¡°What¡¯s a war crime?¡± Asked Carousel, far too casually in my opinion.

    ¡°It¡¯s like rebellion- going to war illegally.¡± Versai explained.

    ¡°Oh, that makes sense.¡± The floppy hat nodded, then stopped. ¡°No, wait, that doesn¡¯t make any sense at all.¡±

    ¡°I know, I have no idea what he¡¯s talking about. Pammy¡¯s done her best, bless her-¡±

    ¡°I retract my comment about you cheering me up. Never mind all that. Everyone healed up? Everyone in place? Our hedgehogs repaired as much as possible? Battlefield shaped? Gnome Market checked for possible goodies that could help?¡±

    ¡°Err¡­ only you can answer that last one, Tower Master.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I checked it out. Money¡¯s a little tight at the moment, so I didn¡¯t pick up anything. Shame. Ah well. MARCI! Drop the last block!¡±

    Night rolled in fast. I was feeling grimly positive about the coming wave. It wasn¡¯t just the mountain of Nasty Surprise. It was¡­ I don¡¯t know. A lot of things. Systems were settling in and becoming mature. Synergies were developing. The integration between the Sky Realm and the Tower was slowly getting tighter, even if it wasn¡¯t yet through the game¡¯s systems. For lack of a better word, things were starting to click.

    ¡°Rache, Rikka, get scouting. Artillery! Fire as soon as targets are marked.¡±

    I got the usual barks in reply, but I was tuning them out. Versai and Carousel had zipped down to their places on the wall, and I was overseeing the battlefield from my balcony.

    After experimenting with it for a while, I could now safely say the scepter really did contribute substantially to ¡°efficiency.¡± Something on the order of ten to fifteen percent. It sounded meh, but when you translated that into ¡°Miles of road laid¡± or ¡°Tons of earth moved¡± the difference was pretty dramatic.

    Less dramatic was the scepters¡¯ improvement on the execution of orders on the battlefield. If it was making a substantial difference, it was hard to spot. Rate of fire was up, I believe, but with the accumulated bonuses from the perfect clears, it was hard to say what was contributing what.

    Soon, tomorrow, I will have more Awakened to deploy. Mrs. Hungry, Yoko, and whoever that bonus summons from the daily check in will be. I¡¯ll also have enough Resonance Crystals for a random pull. Four new Awakened, and two of them at least will be Six Stars. I¡¯ll integrate Hungry Moon Mountain and start goddam auto-farming resources. We just have to get through tonight.

    The artillery started announcing themselves. Radz had it all to herself for three rounds, but the enemies were closing fast, and from all directions. Soon enough, the scouts were marking targets inside of Pomoroi¡¯s range.

    Even after everything, I still flinch when I hear the cannons fire. Something about that noise shakes my soul.

    ¡°Miyuki sees the snake hidden in the grass!¡±

    Baboons already? No, it was just an ordinary monster, coming out of the woods. A whistling arrow pinned it to the ground and the terrible whistling began. It wasn¡¯t bad, really, with just the one pinned monster. It would grow with time.

    It went from one monster to a dozen monsters real quick. The second dozen was hot on their heels, and I was seeing a lot of movement in the trees. We were getting flooded this time. I could feel my face twitching in irritation. It was the simplest way to clear traps, after all, and divert fire from incoming higher value units.

    ¡°Artillery, stay focused on targets in the woods. Everyone else, focus fire on the closest enemies. Miyuki, split your fire between either side of the battlefield. Funnel them down to Mika.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t really worried about the basic monsters at this point. They didn¡¯t have a way to defeat our walls. The main threat they presented was as a screen for Murder Baboons and mine clearers. They could hang out in the moat and get slowly burnt down by my Mikas and Rakim. I didn¡¯t even send out Versai to thin them out. No point in putting her in unnecessary danger.

    She¡¯d get her blade wet soon enough.

    The number of monsters in the clearing suddenly tripled. We now had at least sixty monsters in the clearing, maybe even a hundred.

    ¡°Fast Monsters are here! Everyone stay calm and keep focused on your targets. Carousel, when you get a really big mob in the moat, use Final Revel!¡±

    ¡°Yes, my Lord!¡±

    ¡°Oh, my gosh. He is still just so whatever. Like, talking to our boss like that?¡±

    ¡°I KNOW! Does he still perv on you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t give him the opportunity. I stay in the dorms, thank you very much.¡±

    There was a moment punctuated by the screams of dying monsters.

    ¡°I do like the dorms. The dorms are good.¡±

    There was general agreement amongst the Blue Roses about that. It had been a while since I heard them chattering. Hadn¡¯t missed it.

    Hell with it. They were doing their job. And come glorious day, they could help dredge the sewer in the Floating Quarter. One happy, glorious, beautiful day.

    There were screaming skewers of monsters dotting the battlefield now. The wailing chant of the Blue Roses had begun, and Carousel¡¯s magic was slowly unfolding, wrapping up the doomed monsters below.

    The flood tactics had cleared out all of the traps Rikka and Rakim had set out, but the result was the same. My Awakened were stacking bodies like cordwood.

    ¡°Miyuki sees the snake hidden in the grass!¡± She fired, and nailed to a distant tree was a small, writhing form. The baboons were here.

    ¡°Come on, come on. Send more and more. I want lots of you here. Lots and lots. I made something extra special for you this time!¡±

 Vol. 2 Chap. 28 The Ninth Wave is Disgusted

    The Murder Baboon¡¯s camouflage was as impeccable as always. I could only vaguely sense they were on the battlefield by looking at how some of the monsters moved- the occasional dodge for no reason, a few moving a touch awkwardly, as though they were carrying something. It was subtle. Invisible if you weren¡¯t looking for it.

    I mean, the ones nailed to a bigger monster and then the ground via a yard long glowing arrow were also a bit of a give away, but I will firmly defend my right to pat my own back here. Honing my powers of observation, developing a keen sense of the battlefield. These are good things.

    ¡°Come on, you evil little things. Aren¡¯t you filled with repressed rage for all your dead comrades? Aren¡¯t you furious? Send everybody. EVERYBODY!¡±

    I was almost bouncing up and down with excitement. So many things coming together at the same time. A costume upgrade. The Sky Realm. The fact that the world didn¡¯t really apply its rules to ¡®trash.¡¯ The way the baboon¡¯s camouflage worked. So many, many systems, all coming together.

    The monsters had reached the moat. The Mikas were adorably savaging them. Cold eyes aiming to wound rather than kill, to keep the monsters pinned up in the moat while Final Revel was cast. The white floppy beret and short skirt of ruthless military discipline would remain unstained by the suffering below. Nor would even a flicker of emotion touch their charming eyes as the monsters, with broken legs and bolts through their hips, were forced to dance themselves to death.

    The Mikas had seen worse. They had lived through worse.

    Actually, they hadn¡¯t, had they?

    I shuddered away from the thought and turned my attention to my scouts. Still plenty of smoke going up in the woods, which meant that it wasn¡¯t quite time yet for the big reveal.

    The cannons thundered. It was¡­ surreal, seeing Pomoroi in her shiny boots and tight trousers pedaling her cannon into place. You could see the ghost of what should have been- a bronze twelve-pounder, crew serviced, in battery with a dozen other cannons. You could see her standing off to the side, telescope in hand as she called out range and elevation. Then- ¡°FIRE!¡± and the battery roared their defiance, the lion of the Empire dominating the battlefield. None more loyal. None more resolved.

    And here she was now, in her fancy dress and tug-along cannon, still holding the line. Still unwilling to take even one step away from her guns. She was famed for her ability to defend, but watching the Pomorois at work, I knew the order they really wanted to hear. ¡°The artillery is to advance!¡±

    ¡°One day, Pomoroi. I swear. One day it will happen. You will wheel out your guns and your battery will tear down the enemy¡¯s walls. You will sweep the field, leaving only scraps for the cavalry to pick up.¡±

    I didn¡¯t look over at Radz. I don¡¯t want to visit her world, or a Relic Site from it, for that matter. Girls und Panzer notwithstanding. I may have an American-Grade grasp of history and non-Japanese foreignness, but I knew that central and eastern Europe got stomped nine-tenths to death during WWII. Whole cities were just gone. Divisions of troops vanished like water into artillery churned dirt. They have been pulling unexploded ordnance out of the ground in Europe for a hundred years now, and absolutely nobody thinks they¡¯ve found everything.

    I don¡¯t know that Radz came from exactly that kind of world. But the way she watched her explosions, the way she calmly announced she was raining death¡­ She had fallen in love with it. I could see it. She felt like she was making the world a little more right with every ruined body and blast of dirt. Making it more like what she saw in her head. A world that was only ruin and destruction, a real world, a world that wouldn¡¯t torment her with the illusion of safety and comfort and memories of a time before the explosions battered her ears and brain.

    ¡°Radz raining death.¡± and then there was the chumf sound of the mortar leaving its tube, and a few seconds later, the blast that always made me flinch and want to dive for cover. Did she send each one off with a little blessing, wanting to watch it blossom into the greatness she knew it possessed?

    Radz was a vital part of my military force. But, damn, I wish she wasn¡¯t.

    Still lots of smoke rising from the forest. I forced myself to stay calm. Nobody was hanging out by their lonesome, and Miyuki had orders to periodically sweep the back of the Tower. Even if the Murder Baboons had the wit to use their explosive variants as breaching charges, or the fast guys started digging to undermine our walls, it would take them a long, long time. We wanted as many targets as possible to crowd in.

    In the meantime, Carousel was thinning them out in the moat. It was a pretty deep moat by now. Lots of broken limbs. Forced to dance on broken feet- that¡¯s something out of a fairy tale right there. And not, you know, Fairy Tale. Hiro Mashima was on a serious Power of Friendship kick with that one. Final Revel was something more up Kota Hirano¡¯s ally. Or maybe Tatsuki Fujimoto- I could totally see Makima forcing someone to dance themselves to death on broken limbs.

    Seems very¡­ her.

    There was a burst from the left side of the tower- a genuine column of wall-breakers. Must have been thirty of the armored, ugly things.

    ¡°Artillery! Smash that column! No, wait! Keep firing at targets in the woods.¡± I wiped my forehead. I wasn¡¯t sweating, just force of habit. I¡¯d forgotten what happened the last time these guys rushed my Tower. Broken bones for everyone. My artillery was better used on other things.

    Still a lot of smoke rising from the forest. Were the plumes going up a little closer now? I really couldn¡¯t tell. Looks like they were refining the mass rush from the last couple of waves.

    There was a sudden explosion off on the right. It took me a moment to piece it together- an armored monster fell into a small pit and must have crushed an explosive Baboon, resulting in one dead baboon and one crippled armored monster. Glorious. You love to see it.

    I kept my eyes moving around the clearing, occasionally zipping to the other side of the Tower to check on things over there. So far, it was just a few monsters that came from the side of the Tower and wrapped around from the back. No drama. They weren¡¯t even trying to climb up or anything. Miyuki would zip around every now and then, pinning stragglers to the ground and triggering her fear effect. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    It was on one of those occasions, looking out over the back of the Tower, that I spotted it. The trees were shaking and swaying, but there were no monsters popping out. Murder baboons, and a lot of them. Somehow they evaded my scouts.

    I wouldn¡¯t catch everyone in one fell swoop, but it was time.

    Once every two Waves, Dreams of Paradise Rakim can move an amount of material present within her range of the Tower equal to the amount of material she and all Worker Class Awakened controlled by the Tower Master could move in one order, for any distance equivalent to how far they could shift that mass with the tools and equipment available to them, instantly.

    I had memorized the description at this point. My mind circled the word ¡°instantly¡± over and over. The more I looked at the description, the more¡­ imprecise it felt. There was a lack of clarity in thought and language. But the word instantly was seductive. And even if it was my ¡°worst case scenario,¡± I felt like it was manageable.

    I have three Judiths, (one of which has a costume upgrade) and one Marci for my worker corps. Each worker has received Stone Tapes to increase their lets-just-call-it-level, as well as weapon upgrades to improve their work speed. I have my scepter to buff work efficiency. I have my Perfect Clear bonuses. In short, I have a whole lot of production available to me.

    Now. Let¡¯s see how this superpower works.

    ¡°RAKIM! Execute Plan- Brown Storm!¡±

    ¡°... May God forgive me. Yes, Sir!¡±

    There was a gust of wind. And then- a stench.

    Stench seems to polite. Too refined for what I inflicted on the battlefield.

    Instantly is a fun word. In that almost nothing happens that fast. ¡°Instantly¡± usually means ¡°very, very fast,¡± or ¡°imperceptibly fast.¡± But we aren¡¯t dealing with anything as mundane or sensible as physics. We are operating in an artificial system. So if something arrives somewhere instantly, that means ¡°without any intervening steps.

    Steps like my workers loading up wheelbarrows and barrels and anything even vaguely water tight, filling them with game-designated garbage, transporting them from Gradden March to the battlefield, then using shovels to fling the liquid at head height over every inch of the clearing.

    No, all of that just happened. Instantly, as it were. All that liquid, those solids, those things that were horribly neither and both. All of that just appearing in the air. And no need to worry about the monsters! The special move granted by the costume didn¡¯t say the workers would do it- they were just the unit of measurement. The system did all the very upsetting, dangerous work.

    So I really wanted to know. Just what happens if several hundred liquid tons of the most rank, sun fermented, besieged, poverty stricken, lousy diet, rat infested, corpse rotted, leach filled, writhing worm laden, purely diabolical sewage was flung into the air and coated every monster in worker-walking-range of the Tower, including all the hidden ones?

    Chaos. There is chaos. Smelly, God-awful, sinus destroying chaos.

    It was glorious.

    Hundreds of Baboons seemed to just¡­ pop into existence. Did you know that they don¡¯t like being dirty or smelly or covered in human-ish excrement? I didn¡¯t. But they don¡¯t. They really don¡¯t. They tried to roll around to get it off. Sadly, very sadly, it just meant that the awful, goopy mess was now really ground into their fur.

    Oh it was an awful sight. Nothing, not even Garbage Day in the summer outside a row of restaurants, NOTHING in New York prepared me for this intensity of stomach emptying smell. Some sick instinct drove one to contribute, to explode out either end and join the universal foulness. Instinct, but only a remnant instinct, the haunting of an ancestral impulse in this doll''s body. I could only endure.

    The monsters? They¡­ couldn¡¯t even manage that. They retched. I could see them trying to throw up too, but only spilling thick saliva and bile. Some collapsed, or worse, slipped, on the sewage. The number of faces rubbed in a burgher¡¯s droppings was beyond easy counting. Those wide noses were pure suffering to them now, as was their wide eyes.

    Under other circumstances, you would really worry about infection. Fortunately for them, I had a cure. Death.

    ¡°Miyuki, now that our Baboon visitors are visible, focus on nailing together as many as you can. I want screaming shish kabobs covering my clearing if you please. ARTILLERY! WIPE THEM OUT!¡±

    It was going to be a Hell of a job cleaning up the battlefield. All that sewage would need to be buried, and buried deep. I have no idea if it would break down in the soil. Plants could grow, but who knows what biological systems were carried over?

    What followed next was pure slaughter. The heavy units fell into the moat and broke their too-human hands and legs. The quick units survived a little better, but they were as kettled as the rest. As for the sneaky units? The trophy made them scared and slow. The whistling arrows corralled them into smaller and smaller areas. And the filth of thousands of unwashed bungholes made them very, very visible.

    And smellable. My God. I could shoot them with my eyes closed, never mind the actual pros on the wall. Rakim was working her carbine with a dead-eyed, and dead-souled, precision. I think she viewed it as mercy killings. Was it possible to burden a Four Star with the consciousness of sin? I suppose this could be a test case.

    The slaughter quickly blended with the sewage. I had thought I was immune to gore by this point. I was wrong. The smell of it all, of course, but the way the sewage just¡­ slipped into open cavities. The way organ meat blended with spilled ribbons of half dissolved effluvia. I could feel my sanity start to slip. This was the stuff of madness.

    I had a sudden flash. The world of Lovecraft- not his mythos, but that early twentieth century, with its memories of World War One and dreams of the scientific horrors to come. Broken men staring at walls, drinking rotgut or smacked out of their mind on morphine. Sometimes screaming at things only they saw, inescapable memories of awful places. This was where Radz lived. This is what she saw, all the time.

    This is what I would see, all the time. This horror. This nighttime slaughter. A meat grinder in the sewers, forever. There was no escaping this. There was no end to this. Nobody ¡®beats¡¯ a gacha, the point is to milk the players forever, or until the end-of-service. I would do this, until I died or the game ended, and the universe with it. This wasn¡¯t even Hell. Hell was God¡¯s intention. This place has nothing of the divine in it. There is only fear, and pain, and defilement, before a humiliated death.

    Then a soothing wave fell over me. Then a second, and a third, and a fourth, and a fifth. I don¡¯t know why. Usually that only happens when you move to the next day.

    I shook my head and locked back in. Absurd to lose concentration like that in the middle of battle. That¡¯s how people die. And this was too much of a done deal to lose people now. I wasn¡¯t seeing more smoke from the forest, but I was sure that that Operation Brown Storm missed more than a few. That was fine. As long as we broke the back of the wave, we could take our time mopping up.

    ¡°Rikka, same as usual- keep a couple crippled but alive. Carousel, Corporal Mika- maximum speed on cleaning up the moat. Use your Ult as often as practical.¡±

    Chip, chip, chip away. Chip away and see if there are any last minute surprises.

    There weren¡¯t. My guess was that they were cooking up something intensely diabolical for tomorrow. Waves that end in five or zero- guaranteed to be a nightmare.

    ¡°Alright, great work everybody! Rakkim, put yourself down for some quality time in the dorms tomorrow. Actually, you know what? Go right now.¡±

    ¡°Thank you Sir.¡± Was her voice a touch more wooden than before? I hoped she shook it off soon. Horrible thought- did she live through what I experienced as ¡°instant?¡± I have no reason to think things would work that way. It would be wildly more complicated than necessary. But maybe.

    I¡¯m proud to say that we have deluxe dorms for our Awakened. I like to think it helps with the¡­ everything.

    ¡°Alright! WORKERS! Listen up. Tonight¡¯s the night we build the gatehouse for the back of the Tower. That means thick reinforced cement doors. That means a portcullis if you can manage it. It means a drawbridge to cross the moat. I want to see lots and lots of the thick, low earth walls with narrow, but deep, pits around them. We have plenty of stone and all the rammed earth our hearts could desire. Let¡¯s use them.¡±

    I coughed, maybe a touch theatrically. ¡°Also, clean up the battlefield. Fingers crossed the filth vanishes when you touch the body, but if it doesn¡¯t, we need a big pit for disposal. Just¡­ so big.¡±

    I was grinning a lot. The battlefield was still¡­ fragrant¡­ but that would be okay for today. Worst case scenario, we have to replace the top soil. Which is, yes, a bad worst case, but when your work crew never gets tired, it¡¯s a manageable one. No, I was grinning because as soon as I ordered the last few monsters killed, I¡¯d be getting a new Six Star. And some rando summons, but¡­ new Six Star. Proof that I was no longer ¡°Just starting out.¡± I was established. A force.

    The sky started to throb. I didn¡¯t wait for the countdown. ¡°KILL ¡®EM ALL!¡±

    And then it was morning. Bright and beautiful. I was ready to paint the sky red all over again.

 Vol. 2 Chap. 29 Raising the Ax

    Day ten. And for my efforts, for having survived this long, and in no way a naked bribe to players to stay engaged with the game for longer, I would be rewarded with a new top-of-the-line Six Star summons. I tapped the calendar. The day was marked with a circle, and a long crystal landed in my hand with a thump.

    The crystal was beautiful. All shimmering rainbows and a faint heavenly sound coming from it. A Rainbow Clarion Crystal, and only the second one I had ever seen. The first summoned Versai. Carousel transformed on the spot, so there was no crystal to speak of.

    I walked down to the room with the summoning pools. It still had the feeling of a ruined church, all its fabled holiness condensed into two pools. One was long, and felt like a Roman bath. The other was smaller, and circular, set in its own alcove. Six Stars got to put on a solo act when summoned. All eyes on them.

    I gently tossed the Crystal into the circular pool. I didn¡¯t have any special prayer about who I wanted summoned- they would all be useful. We don¡¯t have many front-liners. Only one vanguard, I think. We are set for scouts and medics. We can always use more snipers and artillery, and no one will ever say they have too many direct damage dealers. And we were entirely out of support, if you don¡¯t count the Blue Roses.

    Which I don¡¯t.

    Out of my hands. Pachinko, please bless your loyal follower. Whoever they are, please- let them not be a pain in the ass. Please and thank you. Amen.

    Also a cat girl. No, wait! This is a Tower Defense game. Please send a cute, sporty Six Star with Inumimi and a super soft, fluffy tail that she loves to have petted but she gets all bashful and shy about people touching. Loyal, brave, energetic and a team player. OH Great Pachinko, please grant your loyal follower¡¯s humble wish. Amen. Double Amen. The end.

    No fat chicks.

    AMEN!

    A glorious aria, a mystical OOOAAAAHaaaaeeeeIIIIIAahaaaiaiaAAIIIIIII sound, like Evanescence had a jam session with Enya with the guy who did the Skyrim soundtrack providing the instrumentals. You could feel something holy come to rest on this place during the summoning. You couldn¡¯t feel it normally, but during a Six Star summoning, you had a sense of a presence. Something immense and¡­ awe inspiring.

    I don¡¯t know what ¡®holy¡¯ is supposed to feel like. Summoning a Six Star felt like there was something benevolent touching this place. Something so great, trying to wrap human words and ideas around it would diminish it. If it wasn¡¯t the descent of God, it was a Kami, surely.

    Perhaps even the great God of games, gamblers and those with a love of bright, shiny lights- Pachinko.

    A woman arose from the waters, born again into the world. She was beautiful, as all the Awakened Souls were, but there was something in her eyes that made you forget the beauty. Haunted. These were old eyes.

    She hovered above the water- white hair twisted into a bun, heather eyes and high cheekbones. Her armor was less thorough than Versai¡¯s- Calf high leather boots over red stockings under what I can only call Pantaloons also in red. Up top was a very loose, baggy shirt with wide sleeves, under a solid breastplate and tucked under one arm- helmet. In her free hand was a brutal looking halberd. No weird hooks or wavy bits- it just looked well used.

    She floated down to the ground in front of me and knelt. ¡°In this life, and every life, I, Othai, shall serve the Tower Master. May the Heavens witness my oath!¡±

    ¡°Thank you. We are lucky to have you joining us. I¡¯m Liam, the Tower Master. Welcome.¡± I held out my hand. I gave myself a mental pat on the back. Just ten days, and I didn¡¯t come off like some awkward little beta male. That¡¯s progress right there. That¡¯s growth.

    ¡°Ah, I¡¯m not your first Six Star, am I?¡± She briskly stood, dusting her knee as she did. Her voice was distinctly business-like.

    ¡°No, this is Day Ten.¡±

    ¡°Oh? That¡¯s quite good.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your record?¡±

    ¡°Twenty five. But candidly, most of my Tower Masters died before the fourth day.¡±

    Huh. I was¡­ kind of expecting a higher number. That was a bit alarming.

    ¡°What did the higher survival rate Tower Masters do that the short timers didn''t?

    ¡°Better luck in who they summoned, better tactics, more useful discoveries by scouts and if they made it to a relic site, the ability to at least acquire useful resources from it.¡±

    ¡°How did they manage their Sky Realms?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Tower Master, but I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± She didn¡¯t sound very sorry. Damned relationship gated conversations!

    ¡°Any manage to conquer a relic site?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, Tower Master, but I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±

    I waved it away. ¡°How about¡­ wherever you are from? Did you discover any relic sites connected to you?¡±

    ¡°Genuda? I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±

    I grunted. She may have found the relic site, but she hadn¡¯t conquered it or she wouldn¡¯t be here now. Genuda¡­ I¡¯d heard that name before, but not often. It was tickling a memory. Mmm. It would come to me.

    ¡°What is your role on the battlefield?¡±

    ¡°As you can see, I¡¯m a halberdier. I hold the front line, be it in attack or retreat. I work best with other close order melee infantry, supported by ranged direct damage and artillery. But, as you might imagine, I¡¯m also capable of taking care of myself in single combat. I am an experienced commander, though I cannot take overall control of a battlefield. At present, I can command up to ten Awakened.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Oh. Ohoh! Wasn¡¯t this interesting! If Versai was the Queen of the Solos, here we have a consummate team player! No dog ears, but otherwise, Pachinko really came through for me. Praise his billions of shiny little balls.

    Just going to say it- the lack of dog ears is a real loss. Dog-eared heroic girls are based and Awoo-pilled and I will fight you about this. Also the existence of beastkin would raise all kinds of questions about the worlds the necromancers were drawing from. Based on the ceiling art and the store, elves and gnomes existed. I could hope for animal eared beauties.

    I have absolutely no idea why that train of thought made my recollection click into place.

    ¡°Genuda. That¡¯s where Mika¡¯s from.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes it is. You have a Mika?¡± She smiled, though there was a lot of sadness in that smile.

    ¡°Quite a few of them, actually. You will see.¡± I smiled back, though mine was a lot warmer.

    ¡°Speaking of Mika, on a¡­ related point¡­¡± Othai probably thought she was being diplomatic, but the fake-casual way she was resting the halberd on her shoulder gave her away. ¡°I do have a little policy I like to make sure my employers are aware of at the start of my time with them.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Six Stars could set terms now? Since when?

    ¡°Yes, you see, while lower rank Awakened Souls are closer to dolls than real people, they are my people. And I view any attempt to lay hands on them, be it out of anger or some more base urge, to be a betrayal. And once I have been betrayed, I am no longer bound by my oath of loyalty.¡±

    Wait. Wait just a second. This was¡­

    ¡°Generally I throw such Tower Masters out a window for the monsters to play with. It feels fitting. In less serious cases, I simply behead them.

    ¡°My first Six Star told me almost the same thing. Including the window thing, incidentally.¡± I tried to play it cool. There was something in Othai¡¯s haunted eyes.  Something beyond coldness. Within the cold, there was still a burning ember and some ancient instinct told me I didn¡¯t want to find out what that was.

    ¡°On a totally unrelated point, how do you feel about fighting ghosts?¡±

    Before I launched the expedition, I heard Othai greet the Mikas. ¡°Genuda Forever! Death to traitors!¡±

    There was a sudden crack, smash, like every Mika turned, stomped their heels and smacked their shields into the ground. ¡°Genuda Forever. Never Forgive! Never Forget!¡±

    The sheer hate in those words. The sheer fury in them. Some coward part of me was glad I only heard it. I don¡¯t think I could stand being in the same room. Just what happened in Genuda? What could turn these cute young women into¡­ into who they are now? What did Othai see to give her those haunted eyes?

    No way to know, really, but I got the feeling she was old. I don¡¯t know how old, but she had that feeling of excessive experience. Not just a moment of trauma, but a lifetime of struggle.

    I¡¯d find out. One way or another.

    I shook my head and patted my pouch. I should have enough to summon an ordinary Awakened.

    I¡­ did not. I was short ten Resonance Crystals. I checked twice, but I was still short. Wasn¡¯t today supposed to give me more crystals? Or something? I was sure I was supposed to get an extra summons by the end of this ten-day period!

    It took me a long while to figure out, but I got there. I had looted more resonance crystals than just the daily rewards. This meant I was summoning Awakened Souls faster. It also meant I was using up crystals faster. I wasn¡¯t short ten- I just hadn¡¯t earned enough to reach one hundred again.

    I snorted through my nose. Easy mistake to make. Can¡¯t dwell on it. Time to finish restocking, and go.

    I returned to Hidden Moon Mountain with a rather generous lineup. Two Six Stars who just had a LOAD of weapon upgrade packs dumped on them, one local scout (ditto, re- upgrades) one sniper (ditto re-, in fact, they all got upgrades, I damn near emptied my wallet), and one Four Star combat engineer who looked like she hadn¡¯t had nearly enough R&R in the dorms.

    And, needless to say, we had restocked on the Ghost Touch potions.

    I did have a moment of indecision about Rakim. The lack of on-site healing was a major problem during the fight against the Woodcutter and his ¡®Wife.¡¯ Subbing out a high tier, but less tactically key, Awakened for healing was tempting. Ultimately, I decided I was there for the Heartless Clearing and nothing else. This shouldn¡¯t be a long campaign. After all, if I had judged things right, we had accidentally skipped to the final boss on our last trip. The ghosts up there should be a mini-boss-type encounter. And I had a theory about how to manage them.

    We collected Yoko and Mrs. Hungry along the way, of course.

    ¡°Yoko, do you have any suggestions about how to deal with the hungry ghosts?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± She tilted her head and put one finger to her cheek. ¡°I wonder.¡±

    ¡°You wonder if you have a suggestion?¡±

    She nodded seriously. And then completely failed to elaborate.

    ¡°Would you happen to have any incense that might help? In any way?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes. I have some that¡¯s wonderfully calming.¡±

    ¡°It works on the ghosts?¡±

    ¡°No, it works on humans. You will feel more at ease as you enjoy the aroma. It¡¯s a little expensive, but worth it I include a blend of balsam, cedar and just a hint of dried poppy.¡±

    I tried to remember what I had been told about the Hungry Ghosts. ¡°Do you have something that could make the Ghosts feel full? Or content at least? Or even make them more hungry, so they fixate on the incense and not on us?¡±

    She hesitated. I could see her thoughts running. Trying to find the words that would be, if not right, then at least not wrong.

    ¡°Remember, we are trying to kill the monsters here. If I conquer the mountain, it will become part of my realm. It won¡¯t be able to eat people anymore.¡± I blatantly put my thumb on her mental scales. She wasn¡¯t stupid, but she was¡­ I think the nice way to say it would be¡­ straightforward.

    Yoko nodded decisively. ¡°Yes, I do have some incense that will lure them to one place. It won¡¯t make them more solid though. Or hurt them at all. And I can¡¯t help with the fog. And it isn¡¯t free.¡± She tacked on the last sentence like she had just remembered it. I wish she hadn¡¯t. I wasn¡¯t quite out of runed bones, but I might struggle to add fries to the proverbial Big Mac with what I had in my pocket.

    ¡°Heads. If you are going to clean up this mountain anyway, get a head start now. I want¡­ twenty five demon heads.¡± She nodded firmly, with the air of someone making their best and final offer. I sighed, and agreed. It would just take time.

    Turns out, not that much time. I really can¡¯t believe standing on a rock and yelling ¡°OH MY GOD! WHO LEFT ALL THIS MEAT HERE?! IT WILL TAKE ME AGES TO JUST CARRY ALL THIS MEAT. I HAVE MEAT FOR DAYS. MONTHS. I AM THE MEAT GOD. ALL THE MEAT IS MINE AND I WILL EAT IT OVER RICE WITH TERIYAKI SAUCE AND NOT A HINT OF BROCCOLI! ZERO BROCCOLI. IT¡¯S LIKE A TREE SHAPED LIKE LUNGS AND SMELLS LIKE FARTS IN A ROOM FULL OF PEE. NO BROCCOLI! ONLY MEAT HERE!¡± worked. I feel like they really let down their reputation as ruthless villains.

    Yes, I was standing ¡°all by myself¡± in the middle of a clearing, next to some big sacks, and yes, those sacks smelled intensely of blood, but come on!

    I mean, chopping up one demon and spreading the blood around was a lot easier than getting a lot of meat, right? And why would you ever think that the clearing wouldn¡¯t be filled with traps? Or that the sacks were hiding shallow holes in the ground with Versai, Rakim and Othai in them?

    It was quickly all over but for the screaming. Othai was, as advertised, a certified menace with her halberd. Her moves were very simple and direct, but possessed an unstoppable momentum. When she raised the haft to block, it was like she was holding up the sky. When the ax blade swung down, she seemed ready to split open the earth. She lunged like maddened lightning. Othai might not move very fast, but there was an awful lot of her when she got there.

    Between Rikka¡¯s home-field advantage in running down prey and the sheer offensive firepower available to us, the longest part of collecting twenty five heads was the travel time. There was essentially no risk.

    Yoko examined the heads and nodded. ¡°Alright, now we can go to the clearing.¡±

    I had a better sense of the Heartless Clearing now. It was circular, as advertised, and still mostly flat. But I had a feeling about the place now, a sense of its nature. This place shared a lot of points of commonality with Japan and Japanese folklore. And in Shinto, the moon god¡­ wasn¡¯t exactly a benevolent figure.

    It always struck me as kind of funny. Everywhere else, the Sun is the ultimate masculine symbol and the moon is inevitably feminine. Not Japan. In Japan, the moon god was the jealous husband of the more powerful sun goddess. He was, essentially, a non-player in their mythology. He killed a primordial food goddess. He was banished from sharing the same part of the sky as Amaterasu. And that was about it.

    If he had shrines, there couldn¡¯t be many of them. He was not a popular god, to put it mildly. There was just a lingering sense of danger, of hidden machinations, and magic. And even the magic was more people putting stuff on him later, because why wouldn¡¯t you associate your creepy magic rituals with night and the moon?

    The only real myth about Tsukiyomi was that he killed a god of food because the method of presenting the feast disgusted them. And here everyone was, eternally hungry on Hidden Moon Mountain. A circular clearing- it could be the shape of the full moon or an arena. Sumo had its origins in Shinto too. But I didn¡¯t think that was it. It was a plate.

    Yoko brought out an incense burner shaped like a turtle and made out of bronze. She carefully lit the incense inside of it, the smoke pouring out of its mouth and from under its shell. The fog came down fast, and with it, a heavy chill.

    ¡°Apply the Ghost Touch potion. Get ready to fight.¡± I probably didn¡¯t need to say that last part.

    I could see shapes moving in the fog, getting closer to the burner. I quickly lost count of how many there were. Ten? Twenty? I really didn¡¯t know. I just knew how I was going to start things off.

    ¡°Miyuki- shoot into the densest cluster of them. Let¡¯s see how many you can fit on a single arrow.¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord!¡± Her voice was hungry too. She drew her long bow back, hand coming up to her cheekbone as she sighted down the shaft. At such short range, she could hardly miss. A sudden release of her fingers, the arrow of light shot out. And then things went ever so slightly off the rails.

 Vol. 2 Chap. 30 Chopping Down The Mountain

    I don¡¯t think I¡¯m stupid. You have to be a little smart to earn your own way in Manhattan. Got to have at least a bit of moxie, a bit of hustle and creativity. Or a lot of it. Usually a lot of it. So I don¡¯t think I¡¯m stupid. I will, however, admit that I don¡¯t always think things through completely. That sometimes, rarely, I miss things.

    In my defense, this was something of a black swan event. Not to mention that I had extremely limited experience in working with the Ghost Touch potion, and even less experience in fighting ghosts. And the mechanics behind the special abilities used by my Awakened are understood at an empirical level at best. While I can accept that the results are my fault as I was the one who gave the order, I really don¡¯t think I can be blamed.

    I mean, what do you think would happen if you shot ghosts with an arrow who¡¯s special effect runs on the life force of monsters? Nothing, right? Two negatives makes a positive in math, but two hungry people don¡¯t make a full person outside of a few select mid-western households. It just doesn¡¯t work that way in real life.

    Except¡­ however real this world is¡­ both physics and common sense were told to eat a fat one a long, long time ago.

    Ever obedient, Miyuki lined up her shot. Her yard-long arrow was knocked, the string pulled back to her cheek, the glowing light doing wonders to make her look as bold as she was beautiful. With a soft release of her fingers, the long bow snapped forward, launching the glowing arrow through one, two, three densely packed Hungry Ghosts. Threading them on a skewer like dango. The Ghost Touch potion worked perfectly.

    I might have expected an eerie whistling, something that directly jabbed its finger on the back of the brain stem on the pressure point labeled ¡°Primal Terror.¡± What I got was chanting. Angry chanting.

    Golden light burst from the arrow, as consecrated syllables thundered out. Choppy, primal sounds, each enunciated with care and filled with dense meaning. This was the sound of life, and life lived with discipline and contentment. Whoever was chanting had known desire, but overcome it. Had known hunger, but found something greater to fill themselves with. Something holy.

    Whatever it was, the Hungry Ghosts treated the voice like it was their salvation. The three skewered ones knelt, not bothering about the arrow and raised their arms in worship. The rest of the ghosts mobbed around, dropping their ghostly spears and trying to touch the brilliant golden light pouring from the pinned monsters. The chanting got louder, more furious. Then, one of the surrounding Hungry Ghosts exploded.

    I don¡¯t have any other word for it. What do you call it when a ghost suddenly, violently, sheds all the pain and darkness it was carrying and becomes an enlightened spirit instead?

    The Ghost were awful looking things. Human-ish, with too long arms and the bloated bellies that you see on children drowning in famine. Their hair was long, thin and stringy, hanging down to their shoulders. They stood naked, except for tattered loincloths made of leather. Their crude hunting spears hung loose in their hands as they watched, drooling, as one of their own shook off his desires, and ascended.

    The glowing spirit had shaved its head and donned a clean golden robe. It sat in a lotus position, tapping a wooden fish as it added its voice to the chant. I could see another two ghosts struggling. Fighting to reach that warmth and fulfillment. It should have been a brutal, terrifying battle. A desperate fight in the fog against demons summoned from some of the most primal human fears. Instead, it was a moment of salvation. Healing. I don¡¯t believe in miracles outside of Magical Girl Anime, but damn me if I didn¡¯t feel like I was watching one at the moment.

    It was at this point that Mrs. Hungry ate the converted ghost.

    We were all standing there, frozen, watching the undead religious revival and Mrs. Hungry just¡­ hopped right in there with her long hooks, lashed out and fished the chanting spirit up out of the mix. She held the insubstantial being above her head. As she tilted her head back, I finally saw her face.

    Human cheeks and teeth and ears and a human nose and even her eyes were a human shape. It was all human shaped but there was nothing human in her. An empty person. The dip in the uncanny valley. Her eyes were wells of horror. Hunger. Insane hunger. Hunger beyond words. No wonder she bit on my lure so easily. Anything that could saite her even for a moment was to be eaten. Even if it wasn¡¯t anything material.

    She held the chanting ghost in the air for a long moment. Two more of the hungry ghosts converted, lightening the fog. I could feel something stirring on the mountain. The air was clearing, and that was making something furious. Then Mrs. Hungry dragged the chanting spirit down towards her mouth and ate it. She ripped pieces off with her hook, then bit the ghostly flesh away. She shoved her whole head into the immaterial body and simply consumed.

    It was like watching a grizzly eat a deer, or a hornet eating a spider. Pure savagery. Not fury. Just a powerful need to eat, and a willingness to use the most brutal and direct means to get the food inside of them.

    Something changed in Mrs. Hungry. Like an ounce of sulfur dropped in water. Something caught fire and there was no putting it out, and whatever was burning, whatever that change was, it made the mountain shake and a dreadful hissing noise rose, pressing down on us, on the chanting ghosts.

    Miyuki fired another arrow and strung another three ghosts together. I nearly fell over. We had all been so paralyzed watching the show, I had forgotten to give my Awakened any orders. Miyuki had received her instructions, and was dutifully carrying them out. It was the rest of us who were standing around like idiots.

    ¡°Everyone not named Miyuki, form up in a circle! Something is changing around us, and I don¡¯t want us getting ambushed. Miyuki, keep stringing them together. Move if something threatens you.¡±

    I stood in the middle of the circle with Versai. I¡¯m the obvious target, and it¡¯s game over for everyone if I die. And naturally I made sure there was plenty of space for Versai to act if the need arose.

    Mrs. Hungry was changing. There was a sense of boiling under her skin. She was filling out, but skin was sloughing off in rough sheets, Her lanky hair fell away in clumps as she ate more and more of the blessed spirit. The shaking of the mountain grew stronger, the sense of oppression building like a thunderstorm over dry prairie.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The second string of chanting ghosts sped up the conversion rate. More and more of the thirty Hungry Ghosts were converting, shedding their old forms and becoming monks. They sat in tidy rows, beating their wooden fish and chanting. Each syllable hammered on the oppressive force of the mountain, beating it back. The dull thock of the fish formed a steady line against the menacing hissing. Life against death. Courage against fear. Order against chaos.

    The universe tends towards chaos.

    I felt the earth shake under me, and through the writhing fog, I could see the grass field fracture. Cracks in the soil spread like shattering ice. Something impossibly cold shone up through them. Light the color of dry winter on concrete. Something terrible was being reborn into the world, or simply¡­ revealed. An implicit truth made explicit.

    Mrs. Hungry was melting like a candle under a blowtorch. Flesh ran down her bones, the blood and lymph steamed, boiled and spurted out of the collapsing meat, even the bones melted and ran into the awful slurry. She should have dissolved into nothing, but in the midst of the diabolical disintegration, new bones were growing. New flesh budded from bone marrow and flowered into muscle and organs. New skin stretched out, sliding under the skin that was sloughing away, trying to protect those newly stretched strands of muscle and sinew.

    The cycle of creation and destruction repeated even as more and more ghosts converted and picked up the chant. Suppressing the chaos of the world with their steady chanting. Awakening those trapped in the grand illusion with the sound of their wooden fish. It was working. More and more ghosts were converting, the speed picking up, snowballing. This corner of the field was filing rapidly with a warm, golden light.

    The earth pulled back from whatever had been below. I could see it now. Metal. Some sort of metal, scarred and corroded by time. A vast piece of something, something that radiated a terribly cold light. The last of the hungry ghosts converted, leaving only the skewered. Then even they converted, merging into beings with three heads and six arms. Each head chanted their holy mantra, while each hand proffered a different talisman or ritual weapon. Offering blessings, suppressing calamities.

    The golden radiance was blinding. Overwhelming. And then Mrs. Hungry completed her transformation and the golden light overwhelmed me. I couldn¡¯t see her form clearly. What I saw was the golden light strike the metal under the earth. The reflected light bounced off, reflected up into the sky.

    Under the brilliant golden light of repentant cannibal spirits, the hidden moon was revealed.

    Hanging in the sky was a piece of bone. As my mind slowly accepted what my eyes insisted was there, I saw more and more of the ¡°moon.¡± It was the top of a skull. Battered, scarred, cracked, but unmistakably the bone dome that protected a mind. The reflected light grew on the moon, picking out details. The bone was spinning, twisting through the void. The fragment of the skull turned over, and

    and

    and it was a face. A bone face the size of the moon.

    Not of any human species. Long, sloping. Holes on either side of the lower jaw where something once protruded. Broken teeth, some for grinding, others for ripping. In the middle of the face was a single vast hole- a cyclops skull? But there were two more holes above and behind it. Too far apart for human eyes. Vast. So vast. And it hungered.

    ¡°That¡¯s not the moon.¡± I heard Rikka whisper from the shadows. ¡°That¡¯s not our moon. I exchanged cups of wine with the Young Lord in the autumn moonlight. He promised he loved me.¡±

    ¡°I was the little serving girl guarding him from the shadows. They were beautiful together, the moonlight erasing all bounds of class and propriety.¡± Miyuki whispered. ¡°I failed them both.¡±

    ¡°I should have said no.¡± Rikka couldn¡¯t take her eyes from the moon. ¡°I should have said no. But I was drunk with love as we caught the moon in our winecups and I hungered to feel his silks wrap around me and feel his strong muscles and the warmth of his lips.¡±

    ¡°I was scared. I had killed for him, and watched him day and night, and guarded him against every shadow. But seeing the hunger in him, seeing how he lost his cares in the moonlight, shedding all propriety, how could I dare tell him no? How could I beg him to let the cooked duck fly away?¡± Miyuki asked.

    ¡°But that night, it wasn¡¯t your Young Lord.¡± Yoko murmured from the side. ¡°I know this story. It wasn¡¯t your Young Lord. It was a monster sent down by the moon.¡±

    From out of the glowing, golden light came a bitter laugh. ¡°Oh child, that was a lie I told to make the story easier to swallow. It¡¯s always so much simpler when it¡¯s a monster. It was a man. Just a man, who revealed his monstrous nature in the moonlight. And for the fleeting pleasure of a prince¡¯s perfect night, four women paid the price.¡±

    The skull could see us. I don¡¯t know how to explain that. It could see us. It was furious at us. This was its grazing land. It was a piece of something so vast, it wasn¡¯t even physical. It was an extrusion, a principal bound into the readiest matter that was at hand. I could feel my mind fracturing under the weight of it. Hunger. Famine. And the derivatives of hunger- cruelty and desperation.

    Something stretched down from the moon- some fragment of that principal. My mind was going faster now. I was standing on mountains of bones, the highest point in a charnel house and ossuary. I was in a mine, surrounded by moon-metal. I was a ghost doll, waving my little stick and directing the other little dolls to war against an ant colony. I was a furious grub, roaring my defiance at a wasps nest.

    Something stretched down from the bone moon and I saw a man- elegant, his hair shiny and black, pulled back into a bun and hidden under a little cloth crown. His robes were moon white, his long bow made of yellow-gray bone. He smiled, heroic in the moonlight, hand reaching for the quiver hanging from his waist.

    ¡°The hunter¡¯s daughter, the girl who served the wine, the cook who made the meal and her daughter who always said the wrong things. No one of consequence. No one who would even missed. But his Lordship wasn¡¯t heartless. While the brave warriors of the clan struggled against the endless wave of monsters, we could find ourselves a refuge. A safe exile, where no honorable warrior would ever come. Hidden Moon Mountain.¡± Mrs. Hungry finished her story.

    ¡°WHY ARE YOU TALKING!¡± Someone screamed. It was a man¡¯s voice. It kind of sounded like me, but all wrong. My voice didn¡¯t sound like that. I wheezed when I tried to talk too loudly. I don¡¯t like to shout except on Discord. I was too fat to get worked up like that. I don¡¯t like this anime. I don¡¯t like it. I want to watch something else. That bishonen with the bow was a bad guy, and not in a fun way.

    ¡°Kill him. RUSH THE BUM, PUT HIM ON THE GROUND AND KILL HIM! NOW NOW NOW!¡±

    He fired his first arrow. I thought it would be at me. He aimed for Rikka. Still cleaning up his mistakes? But this wasn¡¯t the real Young Lord, it was a drop of corrupted moonlight. The long arrow twisted through the air like a promise. Rikka saw it coming, bringing her dagger up and around. With a shout-

    ¡°REBUKE!¡±

    The golden light from the figurine pushed out, strong enough to help her knock aside the arrow. Then Versai was on him. It was a ghost formed by the bone moon and the mountain. But we were well equipped for ghosts. And the monk ghosts hadn¡¯t stopped chanting.

    I could see the golden radiance settling down on the handsome man. The pale luster of his jade skin was revealed to be paint. His teeth were inky black. The white silk transformed from a court robe to a shroud.  I wonder if he saw his emaciated face reflected in Versai¡¯s shield as she charged in.

    There were shapes twisting in the air. Other things struggled to manifest, but their way was blocked. The golden light of the ghost monks held them in place. Then Mrs. Hungry hauled them down.

    I couldn¡¯t see how she did it. Something  reached out of the golden bonfire surrounding her and pulled, drawing the distortions in space towards her. And then they vanished. Eaten, exorcized, I don¡¯t know.

    Miyuki had raised her bow, but not drawn it back. Afraid of shooting a comrade. Everyone else had joined Versai and were dog piling the moon-monster. Rikka was behind it, her kunai flashing bright in the darkness. Versai was moving faster and faster, her sword hacking down with naked loathing. Rakim had set up on the side and was steadily putting rounds into the¡­ thing.

    Into the melee rumbled Othai. Last to get to the fight, but there was an awful lot of her when she got there. The halberd thrust forward, spear point ripping open a hole. The monster raised its bow to stop the follow up blow. It might as well have tried to stop a meteor with a moonbeam. The ax head swung down on the long pole. Smashed through the bow. And chopped deep between shoulder and neck.

    Versai took the head off with a sharp blow from the other direction, and the flying head sprouted a yard long arrow.

    There was a terrible shattering in the sky. I¡­ lost track of time for a while. When I returned to sanity, a full moon shone brightly in the sky. The word VICTORY! Hung in the sky, as fireworks burst over the mountain.

    I sat on the ground, trying to piece everything together. The ground was unreasonably hard. Metal. I rapped it with my knuckles. It made the most incredible ringing sound. Pure and beautiful, despite my ass being planted on it.

    ¡°Purified Moon-Forged Mithril. Rarity- Unique.¡± I read the tool tip out loud.

    We had won. We lived. And we were sitting on a mountain of Mithril.

    When my brain started working again, I was going to laugh and laugh and laugh.

 Vol. 2 Chap. 31 But What Does It All Mean?

    It took a remarkably long time for my brain to start working again. What had been that monster at the end? What was that¡­ skull-moon? Usually when there is a creepy skull, it¡¯s a human skull. Not this time. I don¡¯t know what the hell that thing was. Is. Christ.

    Too much of this mountain felt¡­ like something I shouldn¡¯t be in contact with. Lord Welcome- whatever it was, it was far, far beyond some little cannibal ghost a wandering saint converted. The Woodcutter¡¯s Wife was too strong for us to suppress at our current level. Were we expected to come back later? Or had I completely missed some vital element of the whole puzzle.

    And what was with that surprise boss moon monster at the end? And the absurd effects of Miyuki¡¯s arrows on the ghosts?

    I tried to put the pieces together into some kind of recognisable shape. The first I had heard of Hidden Moon Mountain was when I had drawn Miyuki randomly from the pool. Though the word ¡°randomly¡± is pretty suspect, these days. After that was drawing Rikka. Then I got the costume from Cutthroat Clothiers, which introduced the rest of the Awakened from the mountain.

    But¡­ it wasn¡¯t just the Whistling Death costume or whatever that Miyuki was wearing. There were some garbage cosmetic costumes too, because of an industry collaboration GOD DAMN IT!

    ¡°OH GOD DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!¡±

    ¡°Tower Master!?¡±

    I waved Othai off. It was all a set up. It was all an ¡®organic¡¯ intro to an already set up industry collaboration. A fashion company, a different game, Necromancer Anime Crossover, whatever. I¡¯d bet money that freaky skull thing was something to do with the sponsor. And the backstory about the Young Lord didn¡¯t come completely out of nowhere, but given that Mrs. Hungry was introduced as a storyteller, I would have imagined the complete ¡®story¡¯ behind them all being there would have emerged organically at some point.

    Wait¡­ they didn¡¯t act like they knew each other, particularly. Yoko and Mrs. Hungry did, and Rikka and Miyuki did, but the two groups didn¡¯t see each other and suddenly go ¡°Oh my God! It¡¯s been so long, how have you been? Let¡¯s drink bloody Mary¡¯s and other Instagram appropriate bonding activities.¡±

    Or whatever former co-workers who were unjustly terminated and driven from their home cities together onto the same mountain do.

    Are they¡­ characters from another game? Is that what this is? Is their current personality a riff on an established character? Like if Naruto turned up, but he was a furry fox boy or something.

    My thoughts slipped away for a minute. I looked over at Yoko and her bangs. There wasn¡¯t much similarity beyond the black hair and the bangs, but-

    ¡°The girl with X-Ray vision picked Naruto, while all the other girls were going crazy over Sasuke. And the telepath girl gets over her crush on Sasuke the second she runs into someone who looks even kind of similar to him.¡±

    ¡°My Lord?¡± Miyuki asked.

    ¡°Not sure if that says more about Naruto or Sasuke or the women of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, really. But we have to assume that Hinata was a stone freak, given that she for-sure knew about Naruto¡¯s clone jutsu and his transformation jutsu. Frankly, the most unlikely thing in the whole series, exceeding even a blond, blue eyed, orange clad shouty kid being a master of the stealthy arts of the ninja, was that Hinata only had two kids, and both of them were Narutos¡¯.¡±

    ¡°My Lord, I¡¯m afraid I have no idea what you mean. I apologize for my foolishness.¡±

    I sighed.

    ¡°No need to apologize. I was being foolish too. Say what you like, but Hinata was dead loyal. Those doujinshi creators have done her dirty. ¡± I locked back in.

    Was the double-negative arrow thing a glitch, or the expected route? Because that was the other big turning point. The whistling arrows would have been expected, but the Ghost Touch potion was something cooked up in Gradden March. Was there another route to get the same effect? Something on the mountain that I missed?

    It came to me. I covered my face with my hands.

    The. Goddamn. Cash. Shop.

    ¡°Stuck at the final boss? For a mere $9.99, you can open ten Hidden Moon Treasure Caches that could give you the decisive edge! For those with VIP 3 status and above, the package is discounted to $8.57 for the next six hours!¡±

    It must be something like that. All these collabs are like that. I¡¯m just amazed there wasn¡¯t a special event currency or something.

    I exhaled hard through my nose, keeping the bridge pinched.

    Let''s assume that this was the intended route, and that this was the intended climax of the mini-arc. Mrs. Hungry¡¯s transformation should therefore be, more or less like what happened with Madame becoming Carousel.

    I looked over at Mrs. Hungry. Looked like the jury was still out on ¡°Intentional v. Accidental.¡±

    Mrs. Hungry looked stuck, and not in a fun way. I could see the original character design trying to manifest. A bit of a stereotypical cook, with MILFy overtones and a deeply worrying meathook/cleaver combo for weapons. It wasn¡¯t my exact cup of tea, but it was pretty great. A nice balance of nurturing and yandere. I appreciated the vision. I was less a fan of the other vision.

    The other vision looked like a work in progress from Westworld, and they were doing the Japan park, and they decided to have a creepy Buddhist nun. For reasons.

    Show fell off real hard after Season 1.

    I shook my head hard, refusing to let my mind wander. I knew I was doing that more and more these days. Mrs. Hungry was like a partially materialized ghost haunting the haunted doll that was Mrs. Hungry. The ghost was the Nun, the happy-ish homemaker was the physical body. Both clearly the same person, yet not. It was eye-watering trying to look at her. Them. Hell.

    Could the ghost be some remnant of the original Mrs. Hungry, before she got tagged with that absurd name? I could imagine it- banished from the castle to a mountain full of starving people. She wanted to retreat from the world, and devote herself to a god. Her daughter was unwilling to let go of her anger and still wanted to exterminate all demons and devils, yet now terrified of saying the wrong thing. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    The most interesting thought was that I managed to jam the system somehow. That- My brain skidded.

    ¡°WE MISSED A WHOLE DAMN CHARACTER!¡± I roared. ¡°THE GODDAMN INNKEEPER!¡±

    I saw Othai share a nervous look with Versai, but I waved them down. ¡°Look, how many named places are there on this mountain? You have the Heartless Clearing, The Woodcutter¡¯s Hut, Mrs. Hungry¡¯s House, The Old Temple, and Fragrant Bamboo Inn. We, I, just thought it was a place to stop and get pointed in the direction of the plot. But what if the Innkeeper or one of his creepy guests had a way to deal with the ghosts in the Hungry Clearing? The, I don¡¯t know, the Fog Clearing Lantern or something?¡±

    That got me more thoughtful looks. ¡°Think about it. We turned up, listened to some creepy stories, and left. We didn¡¯t explore the inn at all, and we barely talked to the Innkeeper. We have no way of knowing just what we missed there. I¡¯d bet there was at least three missions hidden in there where we would basically have to live through ghost stories.¡±

    I wanted to dig a hole, jump in it and pull the dirt back over myself. It was the absolute basics of every open world RPGs since at least Zelda. You talk to everyone. You check every room. You smash every pot looking for rupees. But I was so focused on speed running the place that I neglected the absolute classic starting point for every adventure story- meeting in the inn.

    ¡°No. No, I refuse to believe it!¡±

    ¡°Tower Master, please, what is wrong?!¡±

    ¡°I am trying an experiment. If I refuse to believe something hard enough, can I rewrite local reality?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Versai sounded really upset. Which is fair.

    ¡°No. I can¡¯t. I think I might have screwed up, Versai. But at least nobody died because of it.¡± I looked back up at the big VICTORY sign in the sky. There were fireworks too. They really popped against the dark of the sky. The next time I saw this mountain, it would be in the perpetual daylight of my Sky Realm.

    *DING!*

    Congratulations! You have successfully acquired the Hidden Moon Mountain Ruin Site. Your Sky Realm has expanded! Hidden Moon Mountain specialty weapons, equipment, armor and outfits now available for purchase.

    All the Hunters of Hidden Moon Mountain assisted you in the final battle! They will now join your Tower. Congratulations on recruiting Miyuki, Rikka, Yoko and *($*$&&&$!!!.

    Ah Hell. Glitch it is.

    The sky throbbed. We were unceremoniously ejected from the mountain and returned to the Tower. There was a moment¡­ It wasn¡¯t scary, it was just¡­ there was a moment and then in the next moment I had the certain knowledge that time had passed and something had changed but I couldn¡¯t say how much time or what had happened.

    I noticed the treasure chest, singular, sitting near the notice board. No Atrocity Mode multiplier this time, so the rewards would be a lot less bountiful. And since I had already unlocked all those things that came with capturing my first relic site, those weren¡¯t there either.

    Mmm. I still haven¡¯t figured out that Nightmare Realm of Trials thing either. No idea where that¡¯s supposed to be used.

    Eh. It would turn up.

    My notice board was flashing. I walked over and tapped the glowing dot. I felt numb. As I tapped it, I realized- I felt numb. There was just too much. I needed a break. A long break.

    Developer Update-

    There was a brief suspension of game services. Please accept our apology gifts for the service interruption.

    Five rare resource packs, five Frozen Diamonds, and three hundred Resonance Crystals. I nodded seriously.

    ¡°I forgive you for the service interruption. Other things, not so much. But I¡¯ll let the service interruption slide.¡±

    ¡°Yoko, Mrs. Hungry, to the Throne Room please.¡±

    I collapsed into the recliner. I could feel the cool energy of the Tower pouring into me, refreshing me. And it was good, and helpful, but I needed rest. I had seen awful things. Awful things. Things that should not exist in a human mind had been forcibly pressed down into my memory. The crushing reality of them seemed to weigh on the rest of my mind.

    Would I be like Rock Lee when I took off the weights? Suddenly far more powerful? More agile? More my true self?

    He still got packed up by Gara, though. Amazing fight, but the literal try-hard kid got crushed by the nepo-baby with the demon inheritance. There¡¯s the perfect image of the second Gilded Age. If you try your best, have the support of friends and excellent teachers and use the best equipment you can afford, it still won¡¯t be enough to overcome a single silver spoon.

    I really, really need to rest. It hurts to think. I can feel the cool energy falling on me like a waterfall.

    Yoko and Mrs. Hungry walked in. Yoko looked absolutely darling in her green Yukata, white tabi, and geta. Not everyone can make bangs work. She could. I forced a smile. She would be amazing to see in new costumes later. When I wasn¡¯t so tired.

    Mrs. Hungry was here too- buxom lines and a completely period inappropriate leggings and sweater dress outfit, covered with an apron. There was some eye-searing pattern worked into the seams of the dress- doubtless the logo of the sponsoring company. Honestly, she looked amazing. On an intellectual level I could appreciate that she looked amazing. She was a walking dream for teenage boys everywhere. I¡¯d appreciate her properly later.

    ¡°Welcome aboard. In a minute, I¡¯ll send you to find the dorms so you can get some R and R. In the meantime, please report your start rank and class. Yoko, you go first.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Reporting to the Lord, I am the Five Star Yoko. I am a support type, using my incense to protect my comrades from evil influences, somewhat strengthening them with Incense Power, and the holy scent also weakens demons, devils, evil spirits and monsters.¡±

    Woah! My first Five Star, and she¡¯s a monstrous all-around supporter. Fantastic!

    ¡°Amazing! Welcome aboard!¡±

    ¡°Thank you, My Lord. I promise not to make any mistakes in your service!¡±

    Aaaand there we go. Exhaustion comes crashing straight back in.

    ¡°And you, Mrs. Hungry?¡±

    ¡°Six Stars, My Lord. I am a front line fighter, but I am best used on defense.¡±

    I mean¡­ this is a tower defense game. Everyone is on defense. But I understood what she meant.

    ¡°Could you elaborate on that please?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I have two special abilities- Family Meal and Grand Feast. With Family Meal, once I kill five enemies, I can ¡®feed¡¯ other Awakened within a few paces of me. This gives a certain amount of healing, and some small enhancements to their fighting ability.¡±

    ¡°Oh nice- hybrid melee attacker and heal/support. That¡¯s pretty great. What¡¯s the second ability?¡±

    ¡°Once all of us Hunters of Hidden Moon Mountain have killed one hundred enemies, I can use Grand Feast. All the Awakened on the battlefield are significantly healed and get large improvements to their fighting ability.¡±

    Oh hoh! That does bring a small smile to my face. ¡°Excellent stuff. Really. I can¡¯t wait to watch you in action. Six Stars get their own special dorm rooms thanks to our Deluxe dorms, so please- go enjoy them.¡±

    ¡°By your leave, My Lord.¡± Yoko and Mrs. Hungry chorused and left. The throne room emptied out, leaving silence.

    I feel battered. I want to rest. My store-brand recliner was incredibly comfortable, but this was my ¡®office.¡¯ I needed a little work-life balance. And the Awakened weren¡¯t the only ones with their own deluxe accommodations. I had a whole house.

    The Tower Master¡¯s Quarters was tucked into the back of the Map Room. I walked past the insanely large map table (taking a moment to appreciate just how small a corner of it had been explored) and into the dunes that lined the room. I had to keep reminding myself that all this was inside a tower that I could walk around in a few minutes. The TARDIS effect was quite something. It really was bigger on the inside.

    Around a sand dune and into a little hidden courtyard. Mud walls worked with the desert theme. There was a beehive shaped structure on one side whose use I had never figured out, and an L shaped building filled the back left quarter of the space. It had that same ancient Egyptian feel, luxurious polished wood, whitewashed walls and little paintings and murals of astonishing color and brightness.

    The bed was slightly angled upward, so the padded wooden ¡®cushion¡¯ raised your head a few inches above your feet. There wasn¡¯t much of a mattress to speak of. It didn¡¯t matter. I couldn¡¯t sleep. Physically couldn¡¯t sleep. That did matter, but not as much as it once did. I walked over to my bed, got as comfortable as I could and closed my eyes.

    The cooling energy of the Tower kept pouring down on me, and I tried to empty my mind and let it do its work.

    It didn¡¯t work as well as I hoped. Thoughts always seemed to come past, crawling or flying along.

    Avoidant behavior. That was the term I had read- avoidant behavior. A therapy-speak way of saying ¡°trying to avoid thinking about or dealing with your problems.¡± Also, here in the darkness behind my eyes, I think it¡¯s past time to admit I was accumulating trauma that I wasn¡¯t really dealing with. For some reason, the horrible things I had seen and done weren''t hitting me as hard as they should be. But the scars were accumulating.

    What do you do when your struggle seems endless, but you have a seemingly endless amount of time to contemplate it all? I kept thinking of all those Tower Masters Versai served who lost most of their Awakened in an early wave. They would just¡­ stop the clock. Not advance to the next day until they were ready to die. Just endless subjective time in the frozen objective time the game world imposed.

    Subjective days, months, years, of slowly giving into despair. To finally coming to terms with the only rational option- suicide, the only way this world would permit. Suicide by monster.

    Was this it? Was this all there was? An eternity of cheering myself along, keeping the faith, keeping on fighting the good fight until one day I decided to find out what dreams may come?

    In a world with necromancers and ghosts, even that seemed like a dangerous gamble. Not to mention that I would be permanently killing everyone from Gradden March and Hidden Moon Mountain too. Seemed¡­ unfair. But then, fairness had no part in any of this.

    What a nightmare. What an absolute nightmare.

    I could feel the darkness closing in on me. The darkness behind my eyes getting darker and blacker still. I found myself passively waiting for oblivion to take me.

    WELCOME TO YOUR NIGHTMARE!

    The Realm of Trials is now open. Moohohahahahaha.

    ¡°OH COME ON!¡±

 Vol. 2 Chap. 32 A Nightmare You Could Only Dream Of

    I was floating in an inky black void. I didn¡¯t let that stop me from tapping my foot, though I admit the main effect was lost. Sometimes, you simply need to tap a foot to express a certain emotion. One like ¡°How very dare you!¡±

    A sexy skeleton emerged from the void. I rolled my eyes so hard, only the terrible magic of this place kept me from hurting myself in the process. She had no hair, wore a little black pillbox hat, and her face bones were decorated like a D¨ªas De Los Muertos skull. She was also in high heels, a flapper style beaded dress and, somehow, had enough going on under the robe to suggest either highly persuasive body forms were used, or she had some horrific, yet highly specific, bone deformities.

    She swayed her hips. ¡°Hello there.¡±

    ¡°Hey.¡± I said. Like a not-crazy person.

    ¡°Welcome¡­ to your Nightmare.¡± She grinned. Yes, the bones moved around, like there was an actual fleshy face there. Yes, it was pretty creepy to see.

    ¡°Nifty.¡±

    She was about to press on, but seemed to hang up on something.

    ¡°Nifty?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Nifty.¡±

    I could see the cogs spinning in that empty skull and the teeth just weren''t meshing. The skeleton had more brains than the Gnome at the market, but not a lot more. Three Stars, maybe?

    ¡°This will be terrifying.¡±

    ¡°Well. You know. Fear is in the mind of the beholder and all that.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± The skeleton nodded. ¡°I do know that.¡±

    Okay, that made the hairs rise on the back of my neck.

    ¡°This is supposed to be a realm of challenges, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°What kind of challenges?¡± I was being very patient. Burnt out, but patient.

    The skeleton seems to recollect herself, pulling a long cigarette and a cigarette holder out of her purse and lighting it with an ornate silver lighter.

    ¡°This is the Nightmare Realm of Trials. Overcome the Trials, and grow mighty. Fail the challenges and there will be¡­ consequences.¡±

    ¡°Ominous. Specify.¡±

    ¡°Rewards can be as simple as a few basic resources, fragments of resonance crystals, or a handful of Runed Bones. Or it can permanently enchant your tower with¡­ strange powers. Powers that would see your enemies crushed and driven before you. It would even allow you to command¡­ unusual forces within your Sky Realm. Some might even say¡­ forbidden.¡±

    ¡°Might they?¡±

    ¡°They might.¡± She nodded and looked very serious, her non-existent lungs blowing a plume of blue-green smoke out through every hole in her face. Which, in a skeleton, was a lot.

    ¡°Gosh. And the consequences?¡±

    ¡°Why, to be trapped in your nightmare, for a time. How long would, of course, depend on how greatly you dared, and dreadfully you failed.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that sounds about right.¡± I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. More game systems. More and more and more, all to drive engagement. All to chum the waters for those few whales to splash about in.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose this realm has a shop? Or special currency that you earn?¡±

    ¡°Currency? What a banal concept.¡±

    Uhuh.

    ¡°However-¡±

    Here we go.

    ¡°From out of these twisted nightmares, Fragments of Truth may be gleaned.¡±

    Oh yes, that¡¯s not a currency, that¡¯s a fragment of truth. Totally different thing. Why, currency would be something you can exchange for goods and services.

    ¡°And with those Fragments of Truth comes the potential for power. Go to the Stelle of Dark Dreams-¡±

    ¡°No, no sorry, we can¡¯t call it that. Store. Just¡­ go to the store. Store is good.¡±

    ¡°Stelle of Dark Dreams and see just how much power your ¡°Truth¡± may acquire.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ earn game currency and exchange at the shop. Got it.¡±

    ¡°Fragments of Truth may be condensed by the might of the Stelle of Dark Dreams, yes.¡±

    The skeleton gave me a look. I gave her one back. Do you know how hard it is to win a staring contest with a semi-sentient skeleton? Even abusing my doll-body¡¯s lack of need to blink, I wasn¡¯t going to win this fight. But damned if I would be a quitter!

    Eventually I quit. She just kept smoking at me. Her cigarette never burned down or went out. Just endless gusts of green smoke rising out of her. Dispiriting.

    ¡°Look, Jackie Skellington, do you have a name?¡±

    That seemed to throw her for a second.

    ¡°I am¡­ the guide. Your¡­ guide¡­ to this Nightmare Realm of Trials.¡±

    Oof. Well. That¡¯s unfortunate. Jackie Skellington it is.

    ¡°Alright. Just¡­ explain how this works, please.¡±

    She snaps back to it. ¡°You may challenge this realm once per day. Each day you will be presented with a new challenge- a monster to defeat, a puzzle to solve, a test to endure. You will often fail. And you will suffer the consequences. But even in failure, Truth may be found. Also, no damage here is permanent.¡±

    The last sentence sounded tacked on. I glared. She ignored my glare.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°And today¡¯s challenge?¡±

    ¡°A simple run.¡±

    ¡°A¡­ run.¡±

    ¡°Yes. Run, rabbit, run.¡±

    The world shifted and I was running down a dark hallway. It was a hotel, an old fashioned hotel, dark wooden furniture, dark green wallpaper with faded gold threads tracing shapes I couldn¡¯t see too clearly. There were lights, candles? Something burning on the walls and I just had to run as fast as I could because I could hear something breathing loudly behind me.

    It was getting closer. I strained every muscle. My breath came raggedly, I could feel my muscles burning. The hallway ended- I risked looking left, then right without breaking stride. They looked the same- I dodged left, and ran. Put my head down and ran.

    Was the hallway getting darker? There was a heavy thud behind me, I think it hit the wall when it made the turn. Just how fast was it going? I didn¡¯t bother trying the doors, it was  a hotel, all the doors would be locked. All I could do was run like the scared animal I was. The hallway continued straight, but on my right- another junction!

    I ran for it- there were stairs. No point wishing that the monster would slip and fall down the stairs and die, but I could jump myself. Not many- I remembered elementary school where I would hold the railing and jump the last four steps. I did it here. Down and down and down, far too far, the clattering steps of the monster rushing behind me.

    I ran for another doorway, off the stairs, burst through the swinging double doors into a ballroom. There was a ballroom full of dancers, full of skeletons in suits and flapper dresses dancing and swaying to a band that died in a club fire, their bones and instruments scorched black. I tried to run through the room, but the dancers got in my way. I tried to shove them to one side, but they were too slow, too heavy-

    The monster landed on my back. Its claws dug into my skin. I had the sense of black, rubbery flesh before it bit my face off. I couldn¡¯t see. Mercifully, I couldn¡¯t see what happened next.

    I was back in front of the skeleton. ¡°Not a very long run, was it?¡± She asked.

    The cooling energy of the Tower poured in. I had been run down, the monster ate me, it was unpleasant, but I was already forgetting the details. It must not have been that bad.

    ¡°Did I earn any currency?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    I sighed. ¡°Fragments of Truth?¡±

    ¡°Why yes, you did! You can consolidate them now or save them for later.¡±

    I checked my pouch. I had earned three. Somehow, I suspected that wouldn¡¯t get me much. I checked the Stelle.

    ¡°Lost Purse containing twenty rune bones. Costs- five Fragments of Truth.¡± I read. ¡°Oh boy.¡±

    ¡°Look higher up the stelle.¡± She had a snigger in her voice. I could hear it. Damndest thing. I looked up.

    ¡°Bloody Bramble Patch (Permanent)- This Enchantment will harm any enemy that touches your walls. The harder they strike, the more they are hurt.¡± My eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. ¡°Costs¡­ ah.¡±

    ¡°Good things are not cheap.

    ¡°Ten-K is more than just ¡®not cheap.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Very not cheap?¡±

    ¡°Mmm.¡±

    ¡°Keep looking up.¡±

    ¡°Flensing light (Permanent)- Spend Rune Bones to activate an ancient, terrible weapon. Your enemies will be peeled.¡±

    I gulped.

    ¡°That is an awful lot of zeroes.¡±

    ¡°Worth it, though. Enough to face your¡­ terrors?¡±

    ¡°You make a compelling case.¡±

    She smiled. I noticed something emerging from the hollow blackness of her eye sockets, Brightly colored flowers, no, the picture of brightly colored flowers, like the painted ornaments you could see in bodegas-

    I woke with a start in my bed. Not my bed bed, the one in the Tower. I felt¡­ good? I patted myself down, not feeling anything different. I felt good. Emotionally good. That¡¯s what it was. I didn¡¯t feel the same exhaustion I had felt before. I was suddenly and intensely curious about the loot we won on Hidden Moon Mountain, heck, how the Mountain connected to my Sky Realm, so many things!

    Odd as it seemed, I felt alive. I couldn¡¯t figure it out for a long minute, but when I did, I laughed my head off. ¡°Sleep! A nightmare is still sleeping! It might not be the oblivion I was hoping for, but it¡¯s enough.¡± I laughed all the way back to the Throne Room. It might be a nightmare, but it would be one that I would dream of.

    ¡°ALRIGHT! LET''S GET TO IT, PEOPLE!¡± I yelled, neglecting the fact that there wasn''t a group of people just standing around waiting for me to get my head together. Which isn¡¯t fair. I have an entire Tower full of people who literally depend on me, and they don¡¯t hang around pining? Shameful incompetence on their part. Even the most milquetoast Protag-Kun has at least two adorable types pacing and worrying when they go off in low spirits.

    I checked the shadows, trying not to make it obvious that I was looking. If Rikka was there, I couldn¡¯t spot her.

    Forcing down the stabbing pain of betrayal, I focused on the positive. The loot. Only one chest this time. I kept my expectations low. No Atrocity Mode, no loot multiplier.

    Maybe some armor packs? That would be good. Weapons packs? I don¡¯t really see building materials popping up, but who knows? Ooh, maybe some of that Moon-forged Mithril!

    I tapped the treasure chest to open it. Then I tried to slam it shut again, but the evil thing evaporated in a blast of golden light, leaving behind a short stack of costumes.

    All the¡­ let us say¡­ purely cosmetic costumes from the Hidden Moon Mountain industry collab. We could also call them horrible offenses to good taste. That would be fair. Seeing Yoko in a hoodie the size of a tent with knee high strappy boots wouldn¡¯t be the worst, if it wasn¡¯t for the fact the costume also covered her head with a teddy bear mask. Whole head mask, soft fabric, padding, the whole bit. She looked like a serial killer from an excessively try-hard movie.

    I wouldn¡¯t dwell on it. I wouldn¡¯t dwell on it!

    I peeked to see if there was anything else. Two grand in runed bones, that¡¯s not nothing. Twenty weapon upgrade kits which was¡­ a lot, actually, those aren¡¯t cheap at the Gnome Market. And that was it. A whole dungeon cleared, and that was it for loot. Of all the absolute fraud.

    ¡°SEBASTIAN! Oh wait, I need to ring the bell.¡± I trailed off in an aggrieved mutter.

    I rang the bell. Sebastian turned up reasonably quickly.

    ¡°My Lord?¡±

    ¡°Hidden Moon Mountain. Had a chance to check it out yet?¡±

    ¡°Why yes, My Lord.¡± His voice had an added dash of pep in its usual cultured baritone. ¡°I¡¯m happy to say that, while it doesn¡¯t solve all our problems, it solves many of them. The Industries of Gradden March are slowly returning to life.¡±

    ¡°And people aren¡¯t going to starve or die of illness?¡± I said, hopefully.

    ¡°Not all of our problems, My Lord.¡±

    I nodded glumly. It was pretty obvious that Hidden Moon Mountain, with its hunger theme, wouldn¡¯t be long on food.

    ¡°Tell me the really good news, then work your way down to the bad. Start with the Purified Moon-Forged Mithril. What¡¯s the deal there?¡±

    ¡°We aren¡¯t entirely sure, My Lord. We are still experimenting. It is certainly Mithril, and of exceedingly high purity. Which would tend to support the first and last words of its name. We are not sure, however, about what ¡°moon forged¡± means.¡±

    ¡°Get the Enchanters to work on¡­ actually I don¡¯t know how they do their thing. I want to try to turn some of that Mithril into weapons upgrade packs. I betcha they do bonus damage against evil or demonic creatures, something like that. If we can forge special weapons for our Awakened or our soldiers, so much the better.

    ¡°I can certainly investigate that, my Lord. We were currently looking at impregnating threads with it, testing its ability to withstand and transmit magic.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. How much of it can we mine?¡±

    ¡°With ordinary laborers? Up to a hundred pounds a day.¡±

    That triggered a memory- ¡°Ore or final, usable amounts of metal?¡±

    He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Ore, my Lord. Though the purity is so high, we are expecting significant yields.¡±

    Yikes. Ore measured in hundreds of pounds a day was nothing. That was a trash bag full of rocks. You might get a teaspoon of usable metal out it. Maybe.

    ¡°Can we up that production number?¡±

    ¡°By investing in developing a proper mine, yes indeed. Also, assigning a worker to oversee the dig site would also speed things up, though it would limit their availability to work on other orders.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright. We can work with this. How much is a mine?¡±

    ¡°More than we currently have, My Lord.¡±

    I bit back several unkind comments. Sebastian pressed on, acting like he didn¡¯t know exactly what I was thinking.

    ¡°Fortunately, we should soon have ample income. I have found a replacement Economic Councilor, My Lord.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Who?¡± I sat up straight in my chair.

    ¡°The Innkeeper, My Lord. A most curious fellow, with greatly hidden depths.¡±

    I knew it. I GOD DAMN knew it. I completely blew this Relic site. Too much accumulated stress, too much desire to rush, too focused on gaming the system without really understanding what the system of that place was.

    ¡°We¡¯ll bring him in shortly. What¡¯s his scheme for bringing in coin?¡±

    ¡°Foreign trade, My Lord, in addition to the tax revenue from the restarted industries. In addition to Mithril, Hidden Moon Mountain produces a great deal of charcoal, coal, fresh water, pine, bamboo, incense, carved figurines, and granite. Also, and this is perhaps the most interesting thing, Hidden Moon Mountain allows us to recruit demons for various tasks. Not very strong demons, and we can only recruit a very few of them at high prices. But the fact that they are available at all is¡­ quite surprising.¡±

    ¡°Do what now?¡±

    ¡°Recruit demons, yes, My Lord. From the Inn, apparently. The Innkeeper is a person of some standing amongst them.¡±

    ¡°Just¡­ mentally drawing a line from The Innkeeper to Crusher Jim here¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, it does seem that the hospitality industry does attract monsters of all sorts.¡± He smiled helplessly. ¡°For what it is worth, the Innkeeper is a most cheerful and accommodating fellow.¡±

    ¡°That was my impression of him too. Alright, what else should I know about?¡±

    ¡°The sudden reduction in sewage is having a happy, if unintended consequence of lowering disease and increasing happiness, My Lord, as is the happy increase in clean water supplied by the mountain. No, don¡¯t ask me how the water is reaching the Floating Quarter, I have no idea. There are no aqueducts, no new wells, nothing. But the water is visibly cleaner and more plentiful.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that sounds correct. Alright. Looks like I¡¯m going to have to build that rear gatehouse I have been putting off. At least I have some new summons to call in to help. Ah¡­ Have you met Othai?

    ¡°Yes, my Lord. A very capable defender.¡±

    Interesting tone there. The phrase ¡°Damning with faint praise¡± comes to mind. Something to investigate later.

    ¡°And Mrs. Hungry?¡±

    ¡°Yes, not one for administration, though quite pleasant company.¡±

    Complete change of tone. Was he trying to score himself a date with a hottie? First of all, no. Second of all, Bro, you know she was a cannibal, right? He must have read my expression because he hastily explained.

    ¡°Ah, not that I have the slightest designs on your servants, my Lord, none at all. It¡¯s just- do you know how long it¡¯s been since I had something decent to eat? If time even has any meaning when considering that question.¡±

    ¡°Valid point.¡± I don¡¯t believe that one tiny bit, but let¡¯s press on. ¡°You mentioned foreign trade?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my Lord. It seems that peddlers often come to the foot of Hidden Moon Mountain, and will trade for a variety of things. Small, light things, mostly, things that can fit in their packs.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound hugely promising?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my Lord, but another way to describe ¡°a place where wandering peddlers regularly turn up¡± is ¡°we are on a trade route.¡± And where there are peddlers on foot, there can be wagon trains. There can be paved roads. There can be foreign commerce.¡±

    I nodded and my smile started to grow. ¡°We can build roads. We can build lots and lots of roads. You know what? All of a sudden, I¡¯m looking forward to tonight¡¯s wave. We are going to make so much money!¡±

 Vol. 2 Chap. 33 Hard Hats For EVERYONE!

    I clapped my hands together, then rubbed them for maximum effect. I was renewed by a divine night¡¯s¡­ an order times¡­

    I was renewed by sleep! Time, as an illusion, was less meaningful than waking renewed. Refreshed. Recharged. Ready to take on the day¡¯s challenges. I still had four orders to play with too.

    Hand rubbing time was over. I steepled my fingers together and leaned forward, pressing my fingers to my lips. Hmm. HMMMM!

    Gate house first, damnit. I really wanted to hold off on new construction until I had new supply routes lined up, but while I could build the roads, I couldn¡¯t send the workers without a functional back door. And I wouldn¡¯t dare open that to the public without heavy, HEAVY fortification. And the people to guard it of course.

    I gently tapped my finger against my lip.

    I nodded slowly. Yes. I was not an idiot. I had slowed down and remembered that I had resonance crystals to spend.

    Three hundred of them, in fact. And I now had a sizeable little pile of Frozen Diamonds too. Doubtless they would melt away under the heat of the thieving merchants, but I did have them.

    Off I trotted to the summoning pool.

    I decided to grandly fling the Resonance Crystals into the pool, to make a grand spray of them. Then I remembered that three hundred of anything is a lot to hold in your hands, let alone slippery crystals, and adjustments had to be made.

    I decided to grandly fling several handfuls of Resonance Crystals into the pool, to make a delightful series of slightly less grand sprays with them. It still felt very satisfying, being able to just toss them. To watch the impossibly mystic water dance.

    ¡°Dora is here, you have nothing to fear!¡±

    Wait, what?

    Out of the mists of the summoning pool strode three pike¡­ women? I want to say Pikemen is gender neutral, but hell if I know, really. Once again, I had been blessed with the Triple Dupes. And that catch phrase couldn¡¯t be a coincidence.

    The Pikemen were dressed in smart skirts cut to the knee, with sensible yet attractive ankle boots and the signature white berets I usually associated with Mika. The shirt was blousy and off-white, though the sleeves were tied up with green and red ribbons. The Pikemen looked a little older than Mika- college seniors instead of freshmen, maybe. And they were One Stars, which is rough.

    The Pikemen¡­ I decided I didn¡¯t like calling them that. Pikes. They were just pikes now.

    I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to find the path back to Happy Thoughts. The most brutally OP unit in Total War Shogun (II because I¡¯m not insane enough to want to play the first one) is the Oda Yari Ashigaru. Which is a fancy way of saying peasant militia pikemen. Kind of. Sort of. But probably close enough. So considered that way, Three Pikes is an excellent thing.

    Slight downside- Pikes, to be effective, are deployed in dense, multilayered walls. The pikes my summons are carrying are, by my careful eyeballing, frigging huge. Like¡­ twenty feet long, or something. These could be used exactly one way- line up and stab. Twenty feet of reach, that¡¯s great, but, counterpoint, swarms of monsters each far stronger than an ordinary man who strongly believed in flanking and attacking from the rear whenever possible.

    Mika had been clutch from day one. I can¡¯t say I never feared with her around, but I sure felt a lot safer. I¡¯d be both a jerk and an idiot to write the Pikes off as soon as they arrived. Besides, the Mikas functionally transformed once I collected enough of them to form a unit. Wouldn¡¯t be the craziest thing if I could do something similar with the Pikes.

    What¡­ what if that was their Relic Site¡¯s thing? Trash-tier units with amazing upgrade potential, but you needed to draw TONS of them to make them really effective, not to mention buying or looting the appropriate officer and NCO uniforms to make the squads. I could see it. I could practically taste it.

    Also, not going to lie- the skirt was whatever and the boots were only decent but the loose blouse thing with the sleeves tied up with ribbons was working for me. Not my usual aesthetic cup of tea, but there was enough detailing on there to make the Summons pop, while remaining simple enough to honor their One Star status. A heavenly moon must be surrounded by twinkling little stars, after all.

    I nodded firmly. When combined with the oversized weapon, it added just enough contrast to really make the whole package pop. I approved.

    But that still left the question of how to make use of them. As a formerly red-blooded-American, I firmly believe in victory through superior firepower. ¡°Poke them with long sticks¡± wasn¡¯t really part of my range. Fortunately, I could delegate.

    ¡°Othai! Got some of your people here! Come and greet them.¡±

    Othai trotted into the room, saw the Doras and crashed to a halt. Her smile was sad, but real. ¡°Hello Dora. It¡¯s good to see you again.¡± She stiffened up, throwing a salute. With a loud shout- ¡°Genuda Forever! Death to traitors!¡±

    There was a sudden crack, smash, as every Dora turned, stomped their heels and smacked their pikes into the ground. ¡°Genuda Forever. Never Forgive! Never Forget!¡±

    I saw it now. Their pretty faces twisted and made ugly. The rawness of the emotion. They must forget it most of the time. Whatever the betrayal was. It must be like Miuki¡¯s Ult- something about that final stand triggered her memories of family.

    ¡°Othai¡­ just what happened in Genuda?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡±

    I exhaled through my nose. Versai didn¡¯t chat about Gradden March either. ¡°You know we will be going to Genuda sooner or later, right? Probably sooner. Genuda now counts as¡­ what, a plurality of all my Awakened? And you are here? It¡¯s coming soon.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that, Tower Master. But if it is, perhaps you will have the opportunity to learn many things.¡±

    ¡°Take charge of the Doras, please. I will put them under your command.¡±

    ¡°Gladly, Tower Master. What are my orders?¡±

    ¡°Defend the Tower. Details to follow.¡± I smiled, and walked outside.

    This was the tenth day. The wave coming at us would be enormous, and probably filled with unpleasant surprises. We would therefore prepare unpleasant surprises of our own.

    The battlefield around the Tower was  intensely chewed up. We had gone through roughly nine iterations of fixed defenses, fired I don¡¯t even know how many artillery rounds at it, built walls, tore down walls, dug ditches¡­ dug so many ditches. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Most of the earthworks were at the ¡®front¡¯ of the Tower, AKA the side with the door that was open from day one. And boy wasn¡¯t that stressful. But now it is time to prep the back door.

    I carefully tapped my lip, then corrected myself. It is time to fortify the western entrance. Much better. Much, much better. So¡­ how exactly?

    In my ideal world, the workers go out the front door, but that¡¯s not an option. Also, I don¡¯t have a front gate or anything. I deliberately made it a complete pain to get from the battlefield to the Tower, on account of the horrifying death thing.

    I played around with the idea of a sealed tunnel, well protected by thick walls, that wrapped around to the front of the Tower from the back, and dumped the workers out on the Rampart. From there, we would have a heavy duty bridge that could be mounted and dismounted as needed. Basically a giant ramp that covered the moat and went high enough to get on the wall.

    It was horribly impractical from any kind of work flow perspective, and I had a feeling that the ergonomics would be firing-squad worthy if I tried to institute them in Scandinavia.

    Was it¡­ Finland who had that one sniper that had more bodies on him than some morgues? I remember something about there being a sustained aerial bombardment campaign by the Russians to kill one Finnish farmer, but damned if I can remember where that¡¯s from. Point is, we can expect my firing squad to be both highly accurate and unionized.

    Unlike my poor laborers. I groaned softly. There wasn¡¯t a good solution here. The most sensible thing would be a heavily armored gatehouse. Do the whole bit- drawbridge, portcullis, killing hole, all the medieval classics. They really worked too. But that was against human enemies, not ¡°LOL Biology¡± monsters. They should. They absolutely should. But¡­

    Fear. It¡¯s all just fear. And fear is useful, when used right, and it will kill you if it isn¡¯t. And right now, I was running like a rabbit from the monsters.

    ¡°Versai, Othai, join me at the back, please.¡± The magic of the Tower carried my voice to them. No need to think about it or activate something, it just happened.

    No tense body language there- it seems the two Six Stars could work together amiably enough. No Versai-Carousel situation, then. So that¡¯s good.

    ¡°I need the opinions of two Castle enthusiasts. I want to get our defenses into something like a comprehensive shape. Right now we have protected the front of the Tower and kinda protected the back of the Tower, but how do we make this one cohesive, defensible, structure?¡±

    ¡°Motte and Bailey, surrounded by an even bigger wall?¡± Versai asked with a certain glimmer in her eye.

    ¡°We can do so much better than that! We need to get rid of these curtain walls and start putting in a glacis. We can turn this place into a Star Fort without too much trouble, though it¡¯s lacking a water moat.¡± Othai sounded alarmingly enthused.

    ¡°Love the enthusiasm, both of you, but I¡¯m thinking about today. What can we build today that will stand up to the doubtlessly nasty wave that¡¯s coming our way?¡±

    They conferred for a minute. Then smiled.

    ¡°ALRIGHT EVERYONE! PLEASE FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS FROM MARCI AND RAKIM, AND LET¡¯S GET THIS THING BUILT!¡±

    I yelled from the balcony, enthusiastically waving my scepter.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Marci? Is there a problem?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not a general contractor. You want something done, tell me where to go and what to do. I¡¯m not taking responsibility for managing the project.¡± I¡¯d swear I saw some haunted memory flash in her eyes, but I was high up.

    ¡°I¡¯m more or less the same, Sir. I can give advice and can help with the work, but when it comes to planning and running the jobsite? Above my paygrade, Sir.¡±

    Oh for- ¡°Marcy, Rakim, I am giving you the most explicit plans I have yet developed for a build.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, alright.¡± Marci nodded. Then did nothing else.

    ¡°So¡­¡±

    ¡°So I¡¯m still not going to boss around people, Boss.¡±

    GOD DAMN IT! She had been blatantly leading the other workers, hadn¡¯t she? Or maybe she didn''t see it that way- they were all just working on the same task together, as assigned by me.

    ¡°Look-¡±

    ¡°Um. Like. Do we have to have the whole, you aren¡¯t the boss of us conversation again? Because talking to you is, like, totally destabilizing my aura and whatever, and it¡¯s just gross to talk to uggos, so could you, like, die, or whatever?¡±

    ¡°If I die, you die.¡±

    ¡°Oh mygoshplease just stop talking. It is just the worst. I think my pores are clogging.¡± This from a different Blue Rose.

    I was promised a tyrannical rule. That¡¯s what Black Robe said- Tyrannical Rule.

    ¡°I¡¯m not very good at construction, and I am very worried about chipping a nail. Can I be excused?¡± Carousel asked.

    I knew it. I was suspicious after dealing with Versai, but the Six Stars can definitely mess with me. This is intolerable. My Tyrannical rule must endure!

    ¡°EVERYONE WORKS! WE ARE ALL GOING TO WORK! EVEN I AM GOING TO WORK!¡± I bellowed, tyrannically. ¡°Since I can¡¯t delegate, I hope you enjoy having me as the site foreman. ALL AWAKENED, HERE IS THE ORDER- BUILD!¡±

    I swiveled my head to look at the Blue Roses. ¡°It¡¯s going to be an earthen wall with a stone facing. In order to make the wall hold up, the earth must be tightly packed in place. At long last, I am finally ordering you to go pound sand.¡±

    It is regrettable that even higher star levels are worse at labor than Two Star workers. Still, I didn¡¯t regret dragging them into the labor pool. Firstly, because even if they couldn¡¯t do much, they could still do something, and second, team building.

    No, really. Team building.

    I hate team activities. I never did team sports at school. Or any sports, other than mandatory gym class. When we got assigned group projects, I would always carve out a little piece of it I could do by myself. Get kicked in the teeth, metaphorically, often enough, and you realize that you just aren''t going to make friends. Even the kids who turned up at school with Naruto headbands tied to their backpacks didn¡¯t want to hang out.

    The Hell with them.

    I¡¯m stuck in this broken game with my Awakened. Yes, some of them may only be technically sapient, but I know there are bits and pieces of real people in there. And most of them have a history where they worked with other people. Even Mrs. Hungry, now that she was past her cannibal phase, was an echo of that old palace cook. Teamwork, once upon a time, really mattered to these people.

    Not me, obviously. I go out of my way not to work with people. Well, except for Sayed, my Bangladeshi AI wrangler. Still, we have managed to almost entirely eliminate any need to communicate with gradual improvements to my system, so that¡¯s good.

    But I¡¯m not by myself anymore. So I have to learn. And I have seen enough Shonen anime to know that big group projects are the key for team building. Silver Spoon (highly underrated show) was all about people helping each other out and building connections. It was enough to make farming in Hokkaido look really appealing. So a big construction project like the Gatehouse was perfect.

    It¡¯s not bringing together all the different agricultural departments for a big pizza eating festival perfect, but it¡¯s pretty perfect.

    Silver Spoon just vanished with absolutely no buzz. Which is so damn weird since the Mangaka wrote Fullmetal Alchemist. I get that slice of life is a bit of a genre transition, but¡­ the lady wrote Fullmetal Alchemist. How could people skip it?

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get a mirror polish on those stones. No sneaky baboons are going to be crawling up there!¡± I cupped my hands to yell out the orders. No reason to, they could hear me perfectly thanks to the magic of the Tower. It just felt right.

    ¡°Othai, are you really, really sure about this?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Tower Master. As I said. Crossbows and pikes work very well together. It would be even better if we had arquebusiers and the like, but crossbows will do excellently for now.¡±

    ¡°Right, but those pikes are going to be basically static once they are set up, right? What if we put them somewhere, and the monsters don¡¯t hit that spot?¡±

    Othai blinked at me, clearly not understanding something. ¡°Static, Tower Master?¡±

    ¡°They have twenty foot pikes. Even if they don¡¯t get tired, that¡¯s a lot to haul around.¡±

    Othai was now giving me a distinctly funny look.

    ¡°Is that so, Tower Master?¡±

    I sighed. ¡°What am I missing? Twenty feet of¡­ I don¡¯t know, ash or pine or whatever, topped with a long pointy steel head. It cannot possibly be light.¡±

    ¡°It is also very, very dry, carefully preserved with oil. It¡¯s a lot lighter than you would think. Second, they are trained to march and maneuver with those pikes, even in surprisingly close quarters.¡±

    ¡°Oh really?¡±

    ¡°And, third, while they are useful on defense, where they really shine is on the attack.¡± Othai smiled. I was a little intimidated.

    ¡°I honestly can¡¯t imagine it.¡±

    ¡°DORAS! ASSEMBLE! LOWER PIKES. FORWARD MARCH. DOUBLE TIME. CHARGE.¡± Othai called the orders, crisp as a November morning.

    The Doras could run. They weren¡¯t the fastest, but they were meeting the world with twenty foot pikes.

    ¡°I¡¯m suddenly imagining what ten or twenty of them together would look like.¡±

    ¡°Imagine a hundred of them, formed into a ten by ten square. You wonder how a pike formation can maneuver quickly? Easy. Stick the pikes straight up, rotate each soldier in place, then proceed in the new direction. Then when you charge, lower the pikes in the direction of the advance. Back rows reaching out over the shoulders of the rows in front.. One hundred spear points all coming at you. And that was just one unit.¡±

    ¡°I can understand why Cavalry was useless against you, but¡­ bows? Crossbows? Guns?¡±

    ¡°All effective to some extent but not as much as you would think. Well, guns are, if I¡¯m being honest. But Pikes are still a decisive power on the battlefield. Arcing fire has to make its way through a hundred densely packed spears, after all, and while you might lose some people to direct fire in the charge, that¡¯s what your own crossbows and cannons are for.¡±

    The Doras didn¡¯t have any armor. At all. The Mikas had their shields. Versai was armored almost head to toe and had a shield. Othai had armor too. The Doras just relied on speed and stabbing, willing to risk the losses if it meant closing with the enemy.

    I looked over at the gatehouse we were building. Star Fort is for the future, right now we are still dealing with melee focused monsters. Having lots of sloped dirt firing points for artillery was less important. Being able to mass our defenders and have local firepower superiority was the most important. My big worry was always that Murder Baboons would get in behind us and rip up my ranged attackers. Now, I had Othai with her Halberd leading a bunch of speedy Pikes.

    ¡°How good are you at spotting hidden units, Othai?¡±

    ¡°Decent, my lord. Two dozen yards, or thereabouts.¡±

    I looked up at the fake sky, and smiled.

 Vol. 2 Chap. 34 The Tenth Wave Comes With Ill Omens

    ¡°I want to congratulate everyone! I am congratulating everyone! We did it! We built ourselves an absurdly over-fortified gatehouse and wrapped our wall around the base of the Tower. We even included bastions for cross fire. We have even-even rebuilt and restructured the existing fortifications! Which, given the amount of concrete and rebar we had already used, only hurt my soul a little bit! Everyone, this cheer is for you.¡±

    ¡°Yaaay.¡±

    ¡°Good. Dismissed.¡±

    I had to let them go after the ¡®yaaay.¡¯ It took ages to rehearse it, and another age to make them say it on cue. I¡¯m dead. The wave hasn¡¯t even started and I¡¯m dead.

    The construction part went fine. Most of my Awakened were of minimal use, as expected. Even things like carrying bags or tamping down dirt were accomplished at a snail¡¯s pace. There was literally no part of the construction work that Worker-class awakened couldn¡¯t do hundreds of times better. But that was okay! Teamwork was the goal, and teamwork I achieved. I think. I hope. They couldn¡¯t do all that much, but they helped out.

    The fortifications had been expanded, but simplified. Did this eat up most of my remaining orders? Yes. Was the trade-off completely worth it?

    Well. I guess we¡¯d find out soon. Or someone would. I was dead.

    The walls. Oh dear sweet nine pounds seven ounces Baby Jesus. The walls.

    Let me briefly describe the final product, before explaining how we built it. The ¡°Tower¡± now truly does have a heavily developed defense. The outermost ring of that defense is the clearing itself. Every yard we push back the tree line is another yard we have for snipers to spot stealth units and for artillery to put rounds on big units. Or anything, really.

    The next rung is the defenses in the clearing. This was definitely more of a work in progress, because having to build a three hundred and sixty degree defense that was effective against stealthy, fast, armored, and giant units was¡­ a challenge. So I stuck with the short barriers and potholes scattered around. It wasn¡¯t really random- the barriers were much denser in front of the front and rear entrances. They seemed to be doing some good, but honestly? I¡¯d rather have my hedgehogs back.

    Moving along to one thing I was very happy with- the moat! Originally just a trench in front of the wall that would become the Rampart, it was now a certified menace to navigation and, possibly, the structural integrity of the Tower. It was a little eerie not hitting anything like bedrock even after digging more than twenty feet down.

    Closer to thirty now. Monsters take fall damage.

    Anyhoo, the moat now formed a rough oval around the entirety of the walls. No water source yet, so it¡¯s still dry. But I have to wonder- Do monsters float? Not a whole lot of fat on them. Lots of dense muscle and bone. It would be interesting to find out. Because I bet that if we can build roads, we can build aqueducts.

    Which leads us to the last defense before the Tower proper- the wall.

    To visualize the wall, I want you to imagine a legally distinct, but visually reminiscent, Thwomp from Mario.

    It¡¯s not really that exact. We don¡¯t have a frowny face. But what we do have is a square with triangles pointing out of it. Big, thick walls, with a protruding bastion at each corner, and a bastion in the middle of each side. The idea was to maximize the cross-fire potential, as well as ensuring there were always good firing angles.

    Another consideration was the thickness of the walls- they were stupid thick. Like¡­ unreasonably thick. You could have at least two guys riding horses side by side up there thick. Maybe three? I¡¯m not a horse guy. My logic was this- China.

    China had Mongol problems. What did they do? They built the Great Wall. They mobilized the equivalent of all of Europe¡¯s population at the time to build a big dirt wall covered in stone. How thick? Thick enough for mounted troops to move around on. I mean, if you are scrapping with Mongols, you need to be highly mobile. Troop movements were always going to be a big thing.

    Did the Mongols break down the wall? No, they did not.

    Did Chinese corruption and infighting let the Mongols walk through the wall like it wasn¡¯t even there? Unless AI generated internet shorts have lied to me, that¡¯s exactly what they did. So what can we learn from this?

    You can make very tall walls very thick and very long if you have a lot of dirt and unlimited labor.

    Mobility on top of the walls is a key consideration.

    Pay your people better, and don¡¯t have so many civil wars.

    There are probably more lessons there. Probably a bit more nuance. But frankly, I was feeling pretty robbed since the bits of anime girls that were in the thumbnail were quickly revealed to be AI generated slop. Horrible stuff. I refused to watch any more videos on principle. But I did remember the dirt wall thing, and I¡¯ve been using it religiously. Although it is not complication-free.

    The sheer volume of dirt required to build the thick, tall, walls that I wanted was insane. It is absolutely insane. The moat project gave us a lot of dirt, but we had already dug out a lot for the earlier walls. Which led to us turning a problem into a solution- recycling.

    What were our old walls made out of? Dirt, covered in highly polished stone and/or concrete. What is our new wall made out of? Correct.

    Nothing went to waste. It wasn¡¯t possible to un-concrete the concrete, but it could be smashed up into rubble and added as fill. The polished stones were carefully removed one-by-one. A fairly difficult job as the level of polish made them ¡®sticky¡¯ with each other. But once the new walls were formed, they went right back on there- no additional effort required.

    I mean, separating them, making sure they weren¡¯t damaged during the process, keeping the surfaces clean and polished, then reassembling them was an enormous amount of effort, but we didn¡¯t have to go and quarry them again. Which led to the next problem. Not enough stones.

    I now had two places I could mine stone from- the Bluestone quarry where I had gotten the first batch of stone from, and Hidden Moon Mountain in my Sky Realm. But that would cost an order that could be spent building walls. What to do?Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Another Youtube short to the rescue- A project can be fast, cheap, or good. A well run project gets you two of those things. I couldn¡¯t stretch the time, and I definitely couldn¡¯t neglect the quality. That left money.

    And today, the Gnome Market was carrying resource packs. In the true spirit of Gacha, I bought a stack and ripped them open, praying for Cement. And for once, I got it.

    Cement could crack if something blew up near it. Stone could too, of course, but the lesson of what happened to Kim was still very fresh. I didn¡¯t have a good solution to that. All I could do was try and make sure the ¡°boom¡± happened well away from the wall.

    Moving to the back of the Tower, we have the gatehouse. And it is glorious. Many, many resource packs had to die for me to get enough steel for the project, but we did it.

    Drawbridge? You know it! Big heavy concrete door? YUP. With a big heavy locking bar? That too. Then we had the portcullises, perfect for long pikes to be stabbed through. Or crossbows to shoot through. The more I looked at the portcullises, the easier it was to understand why they were a castle staple. Slow them down and shoot them up had been my strategy since literally Day One. A portcullis was practically the platonic ideal of that.

    Murder holes were thoroughly debated, and we ended on a kind of trap door in the ceiling arrangement, where the murder hole would be covered with, yes, more cement, but cement that could be lifted away when it was time to dump something nasty on the trapped monsters below. This too has a heavy steel locking bar. Just in case.

    Now, what exactly could we drop through the hole, given that I had zero boiling oil, boiling water, or scorpions? Not much, actually. So it would be another opportunity for our stabby-shooty types to excel.

    And to top it all off, we put a roof over the whole damn wall. The front rampart didn¡¯t need changing in that regard- it was already pretty pillbox-like. But the rest of the new construction got whatever sort of hodge-podge missile protection I could throw together out of the remaining cement, structural wood from the resource packs, bits of iron, a few hundred tiles that RNG produced, dirt heaped over wood¡­ whatever I could do to keep my people alive from the inevitable threat from above.

    My idea to put spikes on the underside of the drawbridge so that we could drop it on monsters standing on the other edge of the moat and squish them was apparently ¡°Dumb¡± and ¡°Bad¡± and ¡°Perhaps a touch impractical, Tower Master.¡±

    Which is fine. It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m fine.

    Sure, it would be very cool and satisfying to squish monsters. And it would look metal as Hell. Just dropping that gate and SQUISH! Then raising it up again as the blood and gore drips off, getting ready to do it again. That¡¯s just art. That¡¯s what we should be working towards.

    But no. NO. Apparently, there are reasons drawbridges aren¡¯t built that way, including but not limited to breaking the bridge and letting speedy little monsters in. But that¡¯s fine! I can be a tyrant that listens to his advisors. FINE.

    But they still had to listen to my speech. More than that, they had to participate. It¡­ devolved into a North Korean style exercise where the applause is pre-scripted and everyone knows to clap or else. But that too was fine.

    We had just done a team building exercise. We had completed a huge defensive undertaking, in just four orders. Mostly because we could recycle a lot of old material and re-jigger old defenses, but still, it was a huge achievement, worthy of a speech.

    And what do I get for my efforts? Crickets. Crickets, and criticism of my vision from visionless philistines. I am a magnanimous tyrant, but there is a limit to my tolerance. We had the speech, and everyone applauded. As they should. I was still hollowed out by the whole thing. The dead-eyed stares of those forced to attend unpaid team building events apparently were a multiversal constant.

    We didn¡¯t manage to make trebuchets. Nobody, Sebastian included, actually knew how to make them. Or ballistae or anything. Apparently, there are more moving parts to it than I imagined, and an awful lot of math. Soon enough. I¡¯d figure it all out soon enough.

    I lay on the wall in a moody heap until I felt a bit better. Then, out of sheer curiosity, I tried to do that thing where someone lying on their back curls their legs up towards their chests, then kicks out and sort of jackknifes up onto their feet.

    I kicked up, and I kind of got off the ground but coordinating the sit-up movement into the kick was¡­ well I didn¡¯t pull it off. I tried again. Better but no luck. You probably needed to practice it a lot, even with a muscular doll body.

    Versai, Othai and Carousel were all giving me odd looks. ¡°You guys never saw that trick where someone is lying on their back and they kick up and get to their feet?¡±

    They all shook their heads.

    ¡°It¡¯s a thing. One I don¡¯t know how to do, obviously.¡±

    They nodded, eyes a bit too wide.

    ¡°You know what? You don¡¯t get to bring me down. Today has been a great day.  We got a ton accomplished, and even if we didn¡¯t make optimal use of time, we are in a strong position for tonight¡¯s wave.¡±

    They nodded again.

    ¡°I hate you all. Marci, wait ¡®till you see me on the balcony, then drop the last block in. After you do, all the workers go back to the Tower. Everybody else, to your newly assigned battle stations!¡±

    Marci nudged the last bit of stone into the gap waiting for it, completing the final order. At this point, the sun usually fast-forwards its way through the sunset and twilight, dropping us into deepest nighttime in a minute or so.

    Not today.

    The clouds rushed in, covering the setting sun. A bell rang, low and deep and slow. Lightening snarled and snapped in the clouds, and I could smell rain coming.

    ¡°Miyuki- eyes up. Rikka, Rache-¡± I stopped for a second. Then another. I forced myself to grind out the order. ¡°Scout. Mark targets. The instant you see anything remotely out of the ordinary, return and report it at once! Do not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to be surrounded or trapped. Rache, if there is anything that even looks like it would prevent you from moving at full speed, return to the Tower immediately.¡±

    ¡°Chromed lighting.¡±

    ¡°As my Lord commands.¡±

    The rain started. A few heavy drops, shockingly cold, smacked into me. My balcony didn''t have a roof. I¡¯d have to command the battlefield from the wall if ranged units started shooting up at me. The raindrops blew right in. Just a few at first, building up to a deluge. You could hide anything in a rain like that. I could have tanks rolling up on me, and I wouldn¡¯t see them coming.

    The Tenth Wave. It was never going to be fair. It was never going to be an ordinary wave. The rain was blinding. Deafening. And the monsters were creeping closer with every second. I felt fear wrap itself around me. Fear of the unknown, of promised violence, of not being good enough, of watching people I cared for die. I felt the skelleton¡¯s embrace, wrapping its hand around my throat and squeezing my heart.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been scared before. I ate my feelings then. But you took that away from me.¡± I cupped my hands and caught the rain. It looked normal, running cold through my fingers. I stuck them out again, and caught more. Then I brought it to my lips and drank.

    And just for a moment, I felt the world trip. Just a smidge. Just a quarter-cupful of code gone wrong. But just for a moment, there was a glitch, and I tasted the rain.

    It wasn¡¯t New York tap water, but it still managed to be the best water I ever tasted. It tasted like life itself.

    I didn¡¯t try to drink more. I don¡¯t even know what that little mouthful would do as it was. Not like I could digest it, or pee it out for that matter.

    I heard the muffled whomp of the mortar firing. I looked around trying to see the rising signal, but the rain blocked my sight. My Awakened can see the flares through the rain, but I can¡¯t? Is this some sort of fog of war thing?

    ¡°Versai, can you see the signals from the Scouts?¡±

    ¡°No, Tower Master.¡±

    Interesting. Maybe it was because the signals were part of the Artillery''s targeting system.

    ¡°Artillery- fire at will, prioritizing the closest targets.¡±

    The bell tolled again. Muffled by the rain, but still there. There were occasional thuds coming through too, like slow, irregular beats on a Taiko drum. The blue-white lightning formed dragons and shattered trees in the clouds, the thunder descending and prowling around the clearing. Blind, deaf, distracted, it¡¯s no wonder the funeral music was playing.

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree!¡± The cannons began to roar. Radz, my mortar operator, had almost four times the range Pomoroi had. So the monsters were getting a lot closer, and I still wasn¡¯t seeing a blasted thing!

    A howling rose from the darkness. Not the foley artist call of a cartoon wolf but the long, piercing cry of an animal hunting. More and more voices joined, some yipping, barking, yowling, making sounds I don¡¯t have words for. A grad choir of monsters. The caroling of the blood-hunt.

    ¡°For whichever of my Awakened can understand what I am saying, let me tell you something about my home country. We tell our kids stories about monsters, and especially horrible monsters called dragons. And at the end of the story, the brave heroes kill the dragon. The point isn¡¯t to teach kids that dragons and monsters are real. Kids know that already. We tell them the stories so they know that dragons can be killed. And that one day, the one to kill the dragon will be them.¡±

    The rain drenched me. My stupid slip dress of a tunic was glued to me, my Robin Hood hat drooped, my little leather slippers were soaked. I was cold. Scared. People all around and feeling all alone. I squeezed the knife in my right hand and the scepter in my left.

    ¡°This is going to be a nasty one. But that¡¯s fine. Because we are monster slayers. We hang their heads over our gates, and use their hides for rugs. We trade their bones like we were slipping our change to the waiter. Their dead make our potions, our weapons, our armor. We kill them and stack them so high, their corpses make walls and reefs around our Tower. So let them come. Let them send their dragons. Our job won¡¯t change. Awakened, hear my order- KILL!¡±

 Vol. 2 Chap. 35

    The rain muffled my ears and blocked my Eyes. But the monsters always seemed to know exactly where the Tower was.

    ¡°Miyuki sees the snake hidden in the grass!¡±

    I saw the white arrow fly out into the rain, and a new sound was added- the whistle that inspired terror in our enemies. The rain, the thunder, the roar of the artillery, and now the omnipresent whistling of Miyuki¡¯s arrows. All pressing down on the howls and roars and now the screams of the monsters.

    Tonight we would be fighting a different sort of battle. We would hit them in our clearing, when we could, but the main battlefield would be at the moat. It felt wrong to take myself out of the moment, but some insidious part of me, the part that kept watching The Spiffing Brit¡¯s videos and running Chokobo racing exploits, never entirely went away.

    Water physics. Now we have water, but how will it play with all this dirt? Will it turn into mud? Will it make puddles? Can monsters drown?

    Carousel was firing her Glass Arrow spell with deceptive casualness. Her staff seemed to sway in the rain, though I had to imagine the big floppy hat was keeping a lot of water off her. Hopefully it wasn¡¯t getting soggy.

    The first monsters came charging through the rain. It was the small, fast ones, rushing towards us in their hundreds. The Mikas waited until they were just about to hit the edge of the moat before starting to shoot. The bolts slammed home, dropping bodies. Creating tripping hazards. Those monsters were moving awfully fast. There was something almost poetic in the arc their tumbling bodies took as they fell.

    I checked out the back window. No bodies falling into the moat, so it was unlikely we had much coming from that direction. Just in case, though-

    ¡°Miyuki, sweep around the back of the Tower. If there are any coming from the rear, try to kill at least two.¡±

    I didn¡¯t let Carousel cast Final Revel. I had a feeling that the timing on that would be important tonight.

    God, there were a lot of the fast monsters. In games they are usually dogs or wolves or something, and these are about that size. It¡¯s just¡­ the gait is all wrong, the face is all wrong, the shoulders, the sloping back, the fact that it reeks of being a made thing, a chimera¡­ It¡¯s no dog.

    Wallbreakers started filtering through the mix too. ¡°Everyone, avoid shooting the Wallbreakers before they are in the moat.¡± The bastards were heavy and heavily armored. Gravity did the job perfectly in previous waves, even before we deepened the moat. There was no point in wasting a firing cycle on them. Ah. Wait. ¡°Unless you spot a Murder Baboon riding on one. Miyuki, how does it look out back?¡±

    ¡°Nothing lurks in the shadows, My Lord!¡±

    I grunted and kept trying to see through the rain. Level Ten. This wasn¡¯t even the warmup. This was the prelude to the warm up. Fast guys and wallbreakers to open as a noob filter, maybe. A very basic skill/equipment/level check. A good test of fortifications.

    I mean, I¡¯d send out the wallbreakers first, then flood any gaps with the quick and agile fast units and baboons but that¡¯s just me. Maybe a unit of disposable basic monsters come in from the flank just ahead of the fast monsters as a diversion while the first line defenders are still bogged down with the wallbreakers and trying to plug the gap. This way around was¡­ just¡­ stupid. It was stupid. It only made sense if you assumed my Awakened were standing out on the clearing or something. You¡¯d never try it on a moat/wall combo.

    There was nobody running this wave. No¡­ overarching intelligence. It¡¯s scripted. No matter what the BS mechanics are, no matter how blatantly unfair the new monsters are, it¡¯s not a game played against an active intelligence. Sure, maybe they are trying to lure me into being overconfident but¡­ just sending units out to die in the most pointless way possible? Absurd.

    Or horribly cruel, which would actually be completely on-brand for the monsters. God damn it. I gave my cheek a firm slap. It didn¡¯t matter. Whoever the enemy was, why they were sending their monsters in this way, it didn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m not here playing head games. I¡¯m here to kill monsters.

    If the monsters want to commit suicide to speed the process up, well, I can tolerate it.

    There was a snarl of concentrated fire coming from the Mikas. Corporal Mika triggered their ult, but I couldn¡¯t make out why. I strained my eyes, willing myself to see through the rain. Eventually, I saw what the Mikas had. Wallbreakers moving in a block. Far, far too dense a block for their usual movements.

    ¡°Miyuki, Pomoroi, break up that block of Wallbreakers.¡±

    ¡°Miyuki sees the snake hidden in the grass!¡±

    ¡°Pomoroi, by Imperial Decree!¡±

    Miyuki was first by a hair, and I watched her long arrow skewer two Wallbreakers and the baboon hiding between them. The Murder Baboons weren¡¯t brilliant, but they could think tactically. We¡¯d seen hints they could bully the other monsters into helping them before. Then the arrow started to scream and the monsters suddenly turned, flipped over in the mud, and generally made a mess of themselves. I could quickly spot a score of Murder Baboons. ¡°Concentrate on the baboons! Fire. Fire!¡±

    No explosions in the rain, thank goodness. The mud made the baboons easier to spot. Actually, now that I think about it- I carefully looked around the stocky Wallbreakers. No wonder Miyuki wasn¡¯t having any trouble finding stealthed units in the rain. The rain was messing up their camouflage. Not a lot. But enough.

    I¡¯d make sure it was enough.

    Another block of wallbreakers came crashing in, and were dealt with the same way. I didn¡¯t want to rely on the moat to keep the baboons back. They were entirely too good at climbing, and I¡¯d bet they could find a way to minimize the fall damage they took. A third block arrived and was disposed of.

    ¡°Miyuki, sweep the back of the tower.¡±

    A fourth block was coming in. It struggled to get close- there was a thicket of screaming arrows in front of them.  And I could just barely see more fast units massed behind them.

    ¡°Miyuki sees the snake hidden in the grass!¡± Her voice was urgent.

    ¡°I KNEW IT WAS COMING! Othai, take your unit to the back wall. Rakkim, you go too.¡± I rushed over to see what we were up against.

    Standard monsters? Their hulking forms came charging out of the rain. I tried to count misshapen noses and came to roughly thirty. Rakkim opened up. The steady Crack of her carbine reassured me as I watched the bloody holes open on the monsters. She couldn¡¯t one-shot them yet, but a steady diet of weapons upgrades and stone tapes had clearly improved her damage output. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    I¡¯d take two-shotting a basic monster. For now.

    The monsters weren¡¯t moving right. Too slow, too low to the ground. I didn¡¯t see anything, but the Baboons had used basic monsters as mounts before. It wouldn¡¯t shock me if they were clinging to the bellies of the beasts as a way to block incoming fire.

    The monsters ran right up to the edge of the moat, but before I could wish them a good flight, they stopped sharp. The monsters stood on their hind feet, and grabbed something I couldn¡¯t see from their chests. They stretched their arms back, and threw whatever it was towards us.

    Rakkim picked one out of the air. There was a brilliant explosion.

    ¡°Exploding Baboons, they are throwing exploding baboons!¡±

    The monster¡¯s aim wasn¡¯t great, or maybe they were trying to bombard the wall before trying to wedge the Baboons through the gap between wall and roof. Either way, we would be in for a bad time if we let them throw to their heart¡¯s content.

    ¡°Rakkim, aim for the Baboons that are either still on the monster, or in their hands!¡±

    ¡°Yes Sir!¡±

    I couldn¡¯t see how much damage they were doing. I had to believe it wasn¡¯t much, at worst cracking my stone or concrete exterior. Dirt was excellent at dispersing shockwaves. But then, the Baboons were great climbers¡­

    Rakkim caught a Baboon on the side of a monster. One shot was enough to blow the horrible thing up. This had the happy effect of triggering the other Baboons clinging to the monster, creating a beautiful chain reaction. It even managed to set off an about to be flung Baboon on the next monster over, creating another gorey cascade. Alas, the rest were too scattered for the chain to continue, but I was damn pleased with bagging so many with a single round.

    ¡°Outstanding Rakim! Keep it up!¡±

    ¡°Yes SIR!¡±

    I could see a thin grin on her face. She was enjoying this. I checked back on the front line, to see how it was going. No surprise- they had slowed down their attacks momentarily. No, wait!

    ¡°Miyuki sees the snake hidden in the grass!¡± Her long arrow streaked out, briefly skewering a monster. I say briefly, because it exploded into a shocking fireball a half-second later.

    ¡°Gimmick number one.¡± I repeated the orders I gave to Rakkim to Mika and the others at the front. ¡°Carousel, stay on Glass Arrow unless more than ten of them make it to the edge of the moat. If you see a big block of them in range, use Final Revel.¡±

    Pomoroi looked right at home. She only got to fire about once every thirty seconds, but each cannonball ripped through monster formations and left a string of secondary explosions in their wake. The two of them tore up the battlefield together, while Radz focused on the threats further out in the woods.

    I have a bunch of new Six Stars, and I haven¡¯t checked their character sheets. I don¡¯t know what I need to advance the relationships there. Hell, I don¡¯t even know where to find things I can give to Versai. They don¡¯t seem to pop up in the shops. Is there still a shop I haven¡¯t unlocked yet?

    The stray thought intruded, and I felt the tug of distraction. I shook it off and locked in. Then grinned. The ¡®good night¡¯s sleep¡¯ was clearly helping.

    Speaking of, Versai was pacing the battlements, keeping a sharp eye out for infiltrators. I had Othai doing the same thing on the rear, and Miyuki was circling around. It wasn¡¯t perfect. Versai and Othai had pretty limited detection ranges. Beat not having them at all, though, so I didn¡¯t whine.

    One of the monsters looked up and I swear it saw me. I¡¯m sure I saw a flash of recognition in it¡¯s bestial eyes. With a sudden burst of speed, it lurched forward and launched its explosive payload up at my balcony.

    The monsters can break down doors. They can attack inside the Tower. Why couldn¡¯t they come through the balcony? I could feel my blood congeal. It was such an obvious gap in our defenses! Did I think that just because my Awakened couldn¡¯t attack from here, the enemy couldn¡¯t attack through here? I stepped back, ready to stab with my knife and praying I didn¡¯t lose a limb!

    The Baboon rose up, up, closer¡­ then fell back down, exploding against the ground. I collapsed on the railing. I was, in fact, quite high up. I don¡¯t know how high, but I want to say at least a hundred feet up. Five stories or so, figure twenty feet per story, at least a hundred feet up. Plus they were on the other side of a wide moat, a wall, the space between the wall and the Tower, and to cap it off, they were throwing a murderous Baboon the size of a small child.

    Monstrously strong, but they weren¡¯t that strong. Even Pythagoras couldn¡¯t help them beat that hypotenuse.

    ¡°Trying to kill me with a goddamn Fastball Special, you are dreaming.¡± I sneered in a very not-scared way, and internally swore that, screw the aesthetics, I was installing metal grates over the balconies tonight.

    ¡°Kind of amazing actually.¡± I said, watching the explosions rip across the field. ¡°I¡¯ve been expecting flying units or ranged units for ages now. And true to their brand identity, the Monsters have found the most upsetting way to combine both.¡±

    I paused, then rapped my knuckles against my head. ¡°Yes, that was a dumb thing to say. Of course they can find more upsetting ways to do both those things. They have that can-do attitude.¡±

    Another wave of Baboon flingers were coming in from the front and back, supported by solid columns of Armored Monsters. I wondered what they were playing at, until I saw one of Pommoroi¡¯s cannon balls rip open the formation with a long string of explosions. Ammo carriers. They were using the Armored Monsters as Ammo carriers, and if the normal monsters died, the Armored variants could throw the Baboons too.

    Still on the first gimmick though. This is a variation, but a very small one. Where¡¯s the next trick?

    Another wave of Fast Monsters came ripping past, were summarily ignored, and yeeted themselves into the moat. Which seemed¡­ even for monsters kind of insane until I connected the screaming dots.

    It was Miyuki. All those whistling arrows of hers, pinning monsters in place. They were forced by the fear effect to either run away from the Tower entirely, or clump together and try to stay as far from the arrows as they could. She was funneling them right to the moat, and the speedy, dumb, Fast Monsters and Wallbreakers were going right over the edge. The regular Monsters and Murder Baboons were keeping it together better, but it had to be affecting them too. Maybe that was why they were moving in such tight formations. Fear.

    I smiled. You love to see it, you really do.

    Corporal Mika was doing her bit, hosing down the front of the battlefield with the focused, combined firepower of her squad. They were a long way from a machine gun nest, but even without their ult, they were smashing monstrous faces and breaking charges.

    The front looked more or less under control. Time to check the back. And send some support.

    ¡°Miyuki, sweep the rear. Pin at least two and try to keep them alive.

    Wait. Wait¡­ I was forgetting something. Something important.

    Mrs. Hungry and Yoko.

    Damn. They were still deployed on the front wall. But you can¡¯t tell me they don¡¯t have better than decent detection range for hidden threats!

    ¡°Mrs. Hungry and Yoko, to the back wall!¡±

    Off they trotted. I noticed a trail of incense floating behind Yoko. That would be the buff incense, I¡¯m guessing. Probably explains our delightfully high damage output. Mrs. Hungry was a melee focused defender, with two special abilities. She had to kill five personally for the weaker version, but for the Grand Feast, it was one hundred kills combined for all the Hunters of Hidden Moon Mountain.

    ¡°Mrs. Hungry, is the Grand Feast ready?¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord. Rikka and Miyuki have been quite busy, and dear Yoko has been a big help too.¡±

    ¡°How long does it take you to activate?¡±

    ¡°Not long.¡±

    Well that didn¡¯t help me. My instinct was to use it now so I understood the cooldown timer, but I held off. One hundred kills is a lot, and a massive heal spell that works on the whole battlefield should be saved for a crucial moment. We were doing fine without the buffs for now.

    The monsters at the rear were starting to pile up. Rakkim was exclusively focused on blowing up the Murder Baboons, but that left all the Fast Monsters that weren¡¯t rushing to their deaths. Mostly they were milling around, looking unsure about what to do next. Irritating. I¡¯d have to deploy more units to the rear, or see if Miyuki¡¯s arrows couldn¡¯t herd them off a cliff. Maybe I could shift a Pomoroi around? But it took her a good minute or so to pack and unpack her cannon. And even with it packed, she wasn¡¯t speedy.

    Is Rakkim speeding up? She was resting her carbine on the parapet, firing quickly and accurately down into the mob. She had always been quick, but this was really quick. Explosions were tearing out great clumps of monsters as she picked off the Exploding baboons. Really lightened up all the rain. But that wasn¡¯t what I had been hearing.

    I concentrated on the fast beating sound. In the chaotic noise of the battlefield, picking out just one sound was hard. I closed my eyes and really listened. Ignoring the screams, and the cannons and the whistling arrows, and the gunfire. What was it that I was hearing?

    The drums. Those ghostly Taiko drums that came with the rain. They had found their rhythm, and were speeding up. The distant bell wasn¡¯t tolling faster, but the noise was deeper. Boss music.

    Trick number two was coming. I raked my eyes around the forests, looking for any clues. Any hints about what might be coming.

    Sometimes the clues aren¡¯t subtle.

    The clouds twisted into a snarl, and the snaking lighting twisted with them. From out of that knot fell a long spike. I barely saw it before it slammed into the ground, embedding itself in the ground in front of my tower. The battlefield seemed to freeze for a moment. Then the spike rose, hovering twenty feet above the ground.

    I could see it clearly now. It was a gnarled tree- most of its branches missing, all its leaves long gone. In the flashing lighting, I could see it was made of iron. And within the twisting folds of its bark, I could faintly make out¡­ something. Some language or shapes of people in torment. Some distillation of suffering.

    ¡°ALL AWAKENED! FIND COVER!¡±

    The second phase of the battle was here.