by Troy Neenan
Both patient and physician watched as the scarred flesh around David's fingers began to bubble, and what appeared to be new muscle and skin began to spread from David's ten fingers.
After having taken a look for any hidden cameras, the doctor attempted to step closer to Cassidy's bed but was cut off by Judith.
“Out of my way, ahhh…” the doctor screamed and jumped back as what felt like a lit cigarette dropped onto his foot. Stepping back, he rapidly took off his shoe and saw that a circular patch of his skin had gone red. “What the…” Examining his shoe the doctor noticed that a small hole had been burnt into the leather.
Cassidy was breathing heavy as she watched as her scarred flesh began to repair itself. Her newly formed skin was the colour of blood and was sensitive to the point that David's breathing was like hot coals. She wanted to scream but all she could do was hiss and swear. For the second time that year, she felt as if she had been set on fire.
As the minutes passed by, the pain and itching expanded to encompass the law student's torso. She was so overwhelmed that she missed the part where her breasts had reformed.
Thirty minutes later and David awoke to discover several orderlies surrounding him, none of them daring to approach for fear that the three year-old girl would stab them with her spikes. “What did I miss?” he asked and looked down to see his work.
Cassidy lay stretched across her bed, completely nude except for the bandages that were fixed around her legs and arms. Her face was covered in salty tears. She didn't bother to hide her bald sex or breasts; she had just survived another round of torture.
Noticing that he was perhaps staring at her for a little too long, David shifted his weight to disguise his erection. “So, do you want to do the arms and legs?”
“No!” Cassidy screamed.
Chapter Seventeen
Luckily, the doctors had not called the police on David or his evil little bodyguard, provided that the Dungeon Core performed a healing session on somebody other than his assistant. The dumb bastards actually believed that he would.
As she recovered from what felt like the worst rash of her life, David explained the reasons behind Cassidy’s employment. Trading gold for cash was not a skill that a regular call centre agent knew how to do. When Miss Sasca asked how a student studying the law could be any better at the task, he had said that that was her problem as she was his assistant.
Using her recently fixed hand, Cassidy expressed her opinion of that last comment by throwing her jug of water at David's face. Judith caught it in mid-air.
With orderlies threatening to toss the only man who could heal her arms and legs out, and her doctor poking and prodding her very sensitive skin, Cassidy had made a half a dozen calls.
Cassidy’s uncle Kent had spent his youth shifting through gold in Snake Valley and went on and on about how he found about five hundred dollars in gold dust over one weekend, which appeared to be a pretty big deal.
When Kent had picked both David and Judith up from the hospital, the older man used every moment of that drive to syphon information from David about what his niece had gotten herself into.
The coins that the Dungeon Core had gotten from his storage bin weighed fifty grams each and there were twenty of them. At 18 karat they had sold for over thirty-five-thousand dollars. The problem was, was that the gold exchange didn't have that kind of money on it.
The real main problem of the exchange was that if you wanted to convert large amounts of gold you did so through your bank account, which wasn't a problem unless you were an idiot who had left his ID on the other side of the world's largest island. There was also the possibility that David would be confronted by the police which could result in being asked a few questions or a jail sentence.
If he was going to go to jail for those murders and possibly funnelling gold into the country, then he was going to need a good lawyer. As he could not yet afford one of those, he would just have to stick with Cassidy.
For his part, Kent had volunteered his services to collect the money on David's behalf and then transfer the money into cash. As soon as he finished his very self-sacrificing plan, The Dungeon Core promptly laughed in his face.
There was no way that David was going to just give tens of thousands of dollars to a complete stranger. Needing some quick cash, he sacrificed one of his gold coins for two grand, from that he gave Kent two hundred dollars as a finder's fee. If Kent wanted more, his niece was going to have to put him on the payroll.
While they were waiting for McDonalds, David sent a message to his dungeon avatar explaining what was happening. He got a message back.
To David.
Some weird shit just happened here. I just got a bunch of messages that say I got a new assistant and guess what, now I can call her phone. It's crazy.
From David.
Ps. I managed to repair both the gold and the jewellery my new girlfriend just sent us.
“What?” David said. “What new girlfriend?” he sent a message back through the storage space asking for more information. He received a message back almost immediately.
To David.
That Zellio woman. Thanks for hooking me up man.
From David.
The Dungeon Core stared at the piece of paper he was holding, not understanding what he was reading. What did his dungeon mean by hooking up? The only reason that he had asked the death trap to speak with the Zellio was because he was busy with Cassidy.
Then it hit. The dungeon was able to make a phone call to his assistant.
He spoke while he wrote, “What do you mean you can call her?”
To David.
I mean, I can call her. I talked to her for like twenty minutes. She seemed pissed at us for some reason. Get a phone, dude. Hurry. I want to try something. Oh, I just made something awesome. Check the storage space. Look for driver's licence.
From David.
David dropped the note in Kent's car and went into his storage space. There, he found it. With a flick of his fingers, he summoned his driver's licence.
“Hey, that's a cool trick.” Kent said.
David stared at the little card in shock. While the memory had been fuzzy he recalled taking his wallet out of the cave after the crash. How had his dungeon been able to reconstruct it?
It turned out that owning was nine tenths of the law when it came to dungeons. Killing a creature within your dungeon was a typical example. It was similar to the wand rules of Harry Potter universe. You kick a wizard's ass, their wand is yours. David's licence and car belonged to him, therefore, it belonged to the dungeon, and therefore it could be recreated using the treasure function.
Unfortunately, David couldn't recreate everything he owned. When his landlord had kicked him out during his coma, his belongings were transferred to other parties. On another note, while it was possible to recreate the Beast, he could not do so without a garage room, which required tools, space, and somebody with the mechanic profession.
While it sucked that the Core couldn't just make a four-wheel drive appear out of thin air, yet, the idea that it could turn into a possibility did help.
His dungeon also sent over his bank card. Anything else, his phone, his watch, and even his clothes would need more advanced treasure options and possibly specialised rooms.
Knowing that he was long overdue for a phone, David had Kent pull up to a corner store which specialised in the things.
The moment that he held the device in his hands the device rang, which was odd as the Dungeon Core had yet to buy a sim card for it. The agent who sold him the phone just stared at the thing incredulously.
David held the phone to his ear, “Hello?” he asked tentatively.
The voice that answered was incredibly familiar, “Oh shit it worked. David, can you hear me.”
David's eyes almost popped out. It was the dungeon. The David’s were calling themselves. Seeing that he was being watched by both the pawnshop cashier and Kent, and thinking that it was possible that t
he conversation might very well be taking place in his head. The Core also bought a Bluetooth headset.
In the car ride back, David called himself. “How is this possible?” he asked.
“Magic.” proposed the dungeon, “I don't know, I just work here.”
“How are you able to talk to me right now? I had a phone on me for months before I got burned.”
“Maybe the connection is going through the storage space, maybe it didn't work until you picked up that Cassidy woman. All I know is that I turn my back for a second and I have a phone here waiting for me. What about you?”
“I've been in a coma for two years, how do you think I am?” The Core hissed. There was a notable silence from the other end. “Well?”
“I'm in the dark as much as you man.” The dungeon lied, “Um, how about you get down here? We can sync up, exchange memories.”
“Who are you talking to?” Kent asked.
“Some douchebag,” David replied,
On the other end of the conversation, the dungeon's avatar took a gulp out of his coffee, “You want to tell me why you thought it was okay to sell my swarm golem?”
“I didn't sell anything. Zellio wanted it.” the Core said. “Just make a new one.”
“That thing took me months to make, arsehole, and now it's gone.”
“What do you mean it's gone? Like teleport gone?”
“Like it just crumbled into dust. Thousands of my insects just dropped dead for some reason. Our only monster, and you killed it.”
The Core snacked on a chicken nugget; it had felt like an eternity since he had one, “I hate bugs. That means you hate bugs. We freak out when we see a spider.”
“That's not the point.”
Savouring the chicken flesh that was rolling around in his mouth, the Core looked back to see Judith eating a cheeseburger in the back of the car. “Stop crying about the bugs’ man. I got something better.”
“You mean this Variant thing? Yeah, I admit you got something nasty riding with you, but that doesn't help me. I can't feed them. I have no food or water coming in. I can't sustain them. A cactus wouldn't stand a chance in here.”
“You do realise that I can go into a store now?” The Core said as if stating the obvious.
“Yeah, and what happens if you get pinched by the cops, huh? Then where will we be? You know watching children starve makes us hungry.”
As a business practise, David treated each phone call like he was taking a bowel movement with an inflamed haemorrhoid, only less swearing. Dealing with several idiots a day you got into the practise where talking to somebody over the phone was like having your teeth pulled.
The Core couldn't blame the dungeon for being a bit chatty. Being locked away in a death trap without a soul to talk to for years, anyone would turn a little batty. But the Core was already getting tired of hearing the sound of his own voice.
He had already recounted the highlights of his year. The coma, living with that drop kick Kevin, and getting his face melted off. He didn't recount the days he spent hiding out in a hospital like some phantom of the burn ward, and the stuff that happened with Judith for the obvious reasons.
The Core was having enough of the dungeon's endless bitching. All that guy had to do was live in a cave for a few years. Meanwhile, he had gotten his face blown up.
“I'm going to have to let you go.” the Core said and hung up.
Ten seconds later he received a text message.
To myself: Fuck you too.
Chapter Eighteen
In his cramped little office, the dungeon's avatar was admiring his storage numbers. The loss of his snakes, being stuck in a dead-end job, having to deal with ants, and the loss of his only real monster didn't seem to bother him like it had yesterday.
He supposed that the reason behind this had to do with having crazy, hot sex with a living goddess. Despite Zellio'zeri being a virgin and working by second hand experience of her monsters, the woman was unbelievable. Before today David had thought that his ideal woman would be blonde, have breasts that you could beat somebody with, and be able to suck the rust off a pipe. How wrong he had been.
Now he couldn't get the dark skinned woman out of his mind. Yes, it was a strange relationship being in love with what could only be described as a tree, but hey, it wasn't any weirder than Prince Charles having an affair with Camilla behind Princess Diana's back.
David decided that it might not be best to think about such things; otherwise he might get an erection the next time he picked up a gardening magazine.
His Core had been busy alright. The dungeon had been shocked to discover the several dead bodies in his storage bin and more surprised to see that the bodies had been cut up like they had gone into a saw mill. Fortunately, they hadn't been there for long.
As for his core repairing itself, the healing formula was just as ridiculous as the matter to dungeon point conversion. Looking at the calculations it took five full grown people to create one single person. Where that excess energy and matter went to, the dungeon had no clue.
After months of toil and mindless boredom, things were finally looking up. Both David’s' storage bin was packed full of gold and after purchasing the treasure upgrade, the dungeon was able to repair the box that Zellio'zeri had given him.
Twenty kilograms of 20 karat gold. That was $890,000 right there in coin form. And while the dungeon couldn't do much with the excessive amount of wealth, his Core was another story. Even if his human-self spent a fraction of it on building supplies, David's dungeon was going to be kick ass.
It was a shame that the other David couldn't pull out anything larger than a fist but that was just details. He could still have things shipped over to his entrance.
The dungeon contemplated having the Core build a house around the exterior but that idea would have to remain on the back burner for now. He envisioned wooden floorboards, carpets, and a top-of-the-line entertainment centre. It was going to be one awesome man cave. And when his Core managed to get in touch with some movie auctions it was going to turn into nerd-vana.
As he sat in his chair, the dungeon contemplated re-enacting the fantasy movies with real hobbits and orcs. He would, of course, have to deal with more dungeons and trade a few things but that was just business. “Maybe I should get a harem.” the dungeon joked and shook his head.
Why anyone would want to have five women all fighting for their dick just showed how delusional they were. The Japanese were all about harems and love triangles; they didn't understand that having more than one lover was just asking for trouble. The fact that most of their main characters juggled two girls without getting stabbed by the third chapter meant that the creator was just some sad little troll who lived in their parent's basement.
For now, David decided to clear up his storage bin. He converted nearly everything but the gold and the human remains from his storage container into dungeon points. He then purchased the storage upgrade for 150 DP. Ever since that arsehole in the black armour had showed up, David had been running into storage problems.
Ever since getting the metal converter he had been playing mental tether-ball with deciding on the magic DP add-on. Before Zellio'zeri, the dungeon didn't have much use for the otherworldly items other than food, now he felt justified in keeping the relics.
If they were going to start trading with other dungeons it was probably best to stock up on magical gear. Fictional stories were chock full of magical junk and being able to swindle a few newbie dungeons might get him some unique monsters.
As he thought about the magical gear from Sir Douche-alot, the dungeon's avatar looked down at the black armour that continued to lay there on the ground. His attempts to consume the armour had been met with warnings and his bunker makers had failed to dissolve the thing into its base materials. Magic or not, leaving the items there didn't do him a lick of good.
There was just something incredible off putting about the empty suit. It was difficult to put down the feeling to just
one thing. As best as he could describe it, it was like being afraid of clowns and having the movie IT sitting right there in your library. It was like the thing was just daring him to do something.
With his new storage space add-on, David was... positive that he could now swallow the damn thing.
Selecting the armour his attempts to send it to his storage container resulted in one thing.
Warning, you are doing an illegal operation.
“What the hell?” David slammed his fists on the desk. The other magical items took up a bit more storage space than their mass suggested, but it wasn't that much. The Beast had only taken up 500 storage points, so why should this thing be so difficult?
If he could have, the dungeon would have bought another upgrade to the storage space but the upgrade hadn't been there. Either the upgrade had some extra requirements or that was it. While science fiction shows and comic books had pocket dimensions happening all the time, in the real world it was currently impossible. In the future everyone might be walking around with bags of holding, but at Earth's current level of technology it was all theory.
Either the armour was the magical equivalent of jet plane or it had some protection on it. Either way, David didn't like it. The armour looked like something that Sauron would wear, and it was giving off some serious bad vibes. As stupid as it sounded, he felt the thing... looking at him. Which was dumb as it didn't have eyeballs.
David glared at the thing, “You want to play rough, huh? Fine. No more playing. You're scrap arsehole.” future losses be damned. Right now the dungeon didn't care if the thing was worth a king's ransom, he didn't like it.
The dungeon moved to his item manipulation screen and began to mix up a potent combination of powdered rust and aluminium. He then coated the armour in the compound until it was buried in it. “Twenty kilos of thermite. How'd ya like that?”
Igniting the compound proved to be far more difficult than David first assumed, but after playing with a few double A batteries and some copper wire, the dungeon was able to get a spark going.
