Odette looked down at Donut. “I do that, too. Pretend to not really remember someone’s name. You should see them preen when I suddenly do remember. You, Donut, are a natural. Great job. We had that Lucia Mar and her two mongrels on stage before you, and that little psychopath does not know how to work a crowd. One of her dogs mauled my producer. It’s a nightmare. God, I gotta get out of this thing. Give me a moment.”
I watched in horror as the alien reached up and removed her own head. But it wasn’t a head after all. The praying mantis skull was actually a helmet. It pulled away to reveal a human woman, approximately sixty years old. Her eyes were just a little wide for her face to pass as someone from earth. A moment later, the woman’s crab body skittered back, and the chest with the enormous breasts remained attached to the desk. Her whole torso peeled away, revealing a dark shirt. She wore a necklace with a heart on it. If it weren’t for the crab body and the eyes, she’d look like any other human.
“What the hell?” I said, looking at her. “Is the body fake, too?”
“Everything you see is fake,” Odette said. “This is show business.”
There was a loud crack, and I watched, fascinated as she pulled herself from the crab body using her two arms. The crab collapsed with a clatter, like it had just died, its legs curled in on themselves.
Odette did not have any legs. Her body stopped right at her stomach. A flat disk zipped up from under the desk. She pulled herself onto the platform, and she floated in midair, able to control her movement. The legless human zoomed around the desk and came to hover in front of the couch. Her magical wheelchair emanated a slight buzzing sound.
“Much better,” she said, sighing. “People think it’s the same crab each time, but it’s not. We keep a whole nest of the things out on the ranch, and we have to kill a new one each time I go on camera. We don’t advertise that, lest we raise the ire of one of the many animal and mob rights protest groups.”
“Of all the things to dress up as,” I asked, still looking at the bizarre pair of body-less breasts sitting on the table. “Why… that? I couldn’t even tell what that is.”
“Oh, you will,” she said. “That entire getup was my armor when I was like you. It was what I was wearing when I reached the stairwell for the thirteenth floor. It’s how people know me.”
“How was that boob thing armor?”
“Young man,” Odette said. “This gear you have now, this loot? It’s nothing compared to what’s coming.”
“Mordecai… Our trainer guy. He said only one person ever made it to the 13th floor, and it was a dude. He died,” I said.
“That’s true,” Odette said. “I never went down the stairs. I’d struck a deal. That’s a long story, and it’s not for today. But I’m glad you brought up Mordecai. That’s who I actually want to talk to you about. I know this is his last crawl. I’d like for you to tell him to seek me out when this is all over.”
“Mordecai? How do you know each other?” Donut asked. “Were you on the same season?”
“They couldn’t have been,” I said. “Odette is human, and Mordecai is a bird guy. They’re from different planets.”
“They’re called skyfowl,” Odette said. “And my season was long before Mordecai’s. I was his trainer. In fact, that’s how I found you. I keep an eye on him, and I watched you guys as you stumbled into his guild room.”
“His trainer? Wow,” I said. “That must’ve been a really long time ago.”
“It was,” Odette said. “So, can I count on you?”
I shrugged. “Sure, we’ll tell him.”
She nodded. “Thank you. Now, I’m going to give you guys some advice. Don’t talk about this out loud once you go back. The mud skippers won’t like it.”
“Mud skippers?” I said. “You mean Bor…” I paused, looking at the ceiling.
“They can’t hear you in here. But don’t say that phrase in the dungeon. Mud skipper. They attempted to get it listed as hate speech by the Syndicate a couple cycles back. Hardly anyone called them that until they made a big deal about it. But yes, that’s what I mean. The kua-tin. Borant. Nobody likes the kua-tin, at least not their system of government. Borant is a different story. Some of those folks are okay. All they want is to put on a good show. I’m sure they were incensed when they were forced into this early release.”
I looked at Donut. “We won’t say anything,” I said.
“Good. First thing. You’re going to step onto that second floor, and in a day or so, you’re going to find your social numbers have gone meteoric. Those people are following you, Carl and Donut. So when you go down to the third floor. You,” she pointed at Donut, “need to stay as a cute, cuddly cat. They’ll tempt you with some very powerful creature races. Going viral early is both a blessing and a curse. People are in love with Donut the cat. Not Donut the saber-toothed void leopard. Don’t change your race, whatever you do. I’ve seen it happen dozens of times. They change, and their numbers plummet. It’s why nobody sponsors a crawler earlier than the fourth floor now.”
“I wouldn’t even consider it,” Donut said.
“That’s my girl,” Odette said.
“And me?” I asked.
She shrugged. “People are used to seeing humans, so it’s not as crucial for you to stay the same. As long as it’s not too different. If she stays that tiny little thing, she’s going to need to be protected. Mordecai will be the one to lead you through the process of picking a race and class. There’ll be a lot of information. He won’t be allowed to steer you, at least not overtly, but if I taught him anything, it’s how to help you decide for yourself. I don’t know what’s going to be on the table—it’s different every season. Listen for his clues. He knows what he’s doing. He’s going to do his best to guide you.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Also,” she added, “if you want pants, you should probably stop bitching about not having them.”
“So, it’s like I suspected,” I said. “The loot boxes aren’t really random.”
“Of course not,” said Odette. “It’s even written into the rules. Look at me.” She floated back, holding out her arms. “I lost my legs to a Fiend Scythe on the eleventh floor. I was all but dead. I dragged myself to a safe room, opened my boxes, and I received this,” she poked a black belt around her waist, just above the line where her legs were gone. “In a gold box. This is a legendary item, at least. It allows me to attach body parts of other monsters to myself. I had to drag myself back out there and kill that crab first, but I took its body as my legs. And I continued on my way.”
“Your legs don’t grow back?” Donut asked.
“No,” Odette said. “Not if they’re completely severed off. But that’s not the point. People were watching me. I had five sponsors, a record at the time. Me dying alone in a safe room was not good for anyone involved. They didn’t care if I lived or died, as long as that death was glorious. So they gave me the perfect item to compel me to get my ass back out there and at least try. Yes, this is a game. Yes, there are controls in place to make it fair. Sort of. But more importantly, this is a for-profit venture in the entertainment industry. And if you staying alive means more profits, then you’ll find your loot to be a lot more convenient. But if the AI senses screwing you over will make the show more interesting, you better believe it’ll fuck you right in the ass at the worst possible moment. Don’t ever forget that. You can’t count on anybody but yourselves.”
“So, no more complaining,” I said. “At least not out loud.”
“Not when it’s funny for you to not have pants.” She turned to Donut. “Or when someone hisses every time they get another torch in one of their boxes.”
Donut swished her tail angrily. “I have 230 torches in my inventory. It’s absolutely ridiculous.”
“One last piece of advice,” Odette said. “Never trust someone unless you know what they’re getting out of it. Never trust someone if their motivations aren’t clear. Mordecai, for example. He
won’t tell you this, but the season doesn’t count against his indentureship unless one of his crawlers makes it to the fourth floor.”
“ we don’t make it, he’s stuck until next season?” I asked. So if
“He’s stuck until the next Borant-sponsored season, which’ll be at least another seven or eight seasons after this one. And with the political environment as it is, a lot of people aren’t certain Borant will be around that long. All indentureship contracts get frozen during a bankruptcy seizure action.”
“Wait, what?” I asked.
She waved her hand. “That’s not something you need to worry yourselves over. Concentrate on the crawl.”
Donut jumped down from the couch and ran to the far wall. She stopped about halfway across the room, her face smushing against an invisible barrier. It appeared the studio went deeper than it really did. She put her feet up on the invisible wall, making it look as if she was standing on two feet. “Carl, look,” she said. “This room is quite odd.”
“Remember what Lexis said?” I called out to her. “We’re not really in the studio. That’s the far end of the boat. Be careful.”
I turned back to Odette. “Whatever you guys did to her is wearing off,” I said.
The woman nodded. She didn’t even deny it. She was also watching the cat pounce around the end of the room. “In many ways, she’s still a child. It’s part of the reason why so many are enchanted with her. It works well in the dungeon. But for interviews, sometimes they need a little nudge.”
I bit my lip. I didn’t know if I should be angry or not. “What did you do?”
She shrugged. “It’s nothing insidious. It was in her cat treats. It’s temporary. It increased her wisdom and a few confidence stats by a point and a half. Not much. It makes for a better interview. It’s no different than drinking a glass of strong wine.”
“I thought wisdom wasn’t a stat anymore,” I said.
“Oh, honey. Everything is a stat. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not really there. But you’re more right than you realize. None of these top-tier stats you see are real. Not truly. A higher intelligence doesn’t mean you’re smarter. It means you have more mana points. It means you can remember things better. It’s really a mish-mash of a hundred other stats all combined.”
Donut came back, her tail swishing. “This room is much smaller than it looks.”
“So how about you, Odette? What are your motivations?” I asked as I stood from the couch. It was time to go. “For helping us, I mean. You said not to trust anyone until you know what their motivations are.”
The older woman smiled. “My audience loves you. The longer you stay alive, the more money I make. And there is nothing I love in this universe more than money. Now get back in there and try not to die.”
30
Floor Two
Views: 0
Followers: 0
Favorites: 0
“There’s nobody on my list,” Donut said. “I don’t have any followers yet.”
We’d been on the second floor for about five seconds. Thankfully, Brandon and his crew hadn’t come down yet. We still had two hours until the collapse, and I suspected they were waiting to see if Chris could convince the thirty folks holed up in that Waffle House to come down. I wouldn’t expect to see the first ones emerge for another hour.
“I don’t think it gets turned on until after the recap episode,” I said. “And Mordecai said it updates slow anyway.” Tonight’s episode coincided with the closing of the first floor. I was hoping we could find a safe room before then.
The episode was usually a little more than an hour long, and after that, Odette’s show would air. And if that show was as popular as they’d implied, the views would start rolling in. I knew, deep down, that this was probably a good thing. The more fans, the better chances we had. But I still had a terrible, ominous feeling that all this attention was a mistake. There was something to be said about being anonymous. Quietly efficient. That wasn’t going to happen, not here, not when I had Donut with me.
Looking about, this second floor was set up similarly to the first, but instead of emerging at the end of a main hallway, I could see that we were in the middle of a quadrant. The floors here were white. The lichen on the wall had an orangish tint to it. The walls, instead of stone, were made of cinderblock. I punched the wall with my gauntlet to see if it would break. A large crack appeared, but it wouldn't break further, like it was magically protected. I punched another nearby block, and the same thing happened. It cracked easily, but it didn't break more than that.
“Well this is boring. How are we supposed to set the intergalactic internet on fire when the second floor is the same as the first floor?” Donut asked.
“Mordecai had said that would be the case. It’s not until the third or fourth floor where things start to get weird.”
“Hopefully the monsters will be more exciting,” Donut said.
“They’ll be similar. Just a little harder.”
“Look, look,” Donut said. “When you zoom out the map, top right corner. Northeast.”
I did, and immediately saw what she was looking at. The icon sat in the midst of the fog, but there it was. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over me. I didn’t see any safe rooms or tutorial guilds yet, but at least we had this.
Stairwell to Floor Three.
“Let’s work our way toward there and see about clearing that quadrant out,” I said. “Keep an eye open for safe rooms.”
I saw the X on the map the moment we turned the corner. My heart leaped, afraid that this was going to be the corpse of Agatha. But it was a smaller X. One of a mob.
I hovered over the spot, and it read Corpse – Level 2 Brindle Grub.
“Level two. That’s good. I wonder if Agatha killed it?” I said. We wouldn’t be able to tell until we were closer. A few more steps, and a pair of red dots appeared in the same hallway, between us and the body. They seemed to also be moving toward the corpse.
“Okay, be careful,” I whispered. I peeked around the corner. There the mobs were, a pair of fuzzy, cat-sized monsters with no legs. Bugs with similar black and brown coloring to Donut. These were large, fat worms. They didn’t appear to be moving too quickly, also level two. They were the same type of creature as the corpse.
Brindle Grub. Level 2.
Have you ever found a dead, bloated, and decomposing body? Have ya poked it with a stick just to see what would wiggle out? Perhaps rubbed it with your bare foot? You know you’ve wanted to. Well, wonder more. Here on the second floor, rats are yesterday’s news. Brindle Grubs are now all the rage, and janitor duty falls unto them. The more monsters you kill in an area, the more the grubs eat. The more the grubs eat, the bigger they get. Once you start finding them in the pupa stage, you best move on. Grubs are easy to kill. Their older siblings are not.
“You take the left one. I’ll get the second,” I said as Donut jumped to my shoulder.
We strode around the corner. Donut blasted the first one with a full-power Magic Missile, and the thing exploded, leaving nothing but a white mess of goo. They had the same sort of squishy innards as the scatterer bugs from the first floor.
“Get ready with a healing scroll in case their blood is acid or something,” I said.
I formed a fist, rushing up. The second grub was making a pitiful squeaking noise, trying to get away at a turtle’s pace. I smashed down with my gauntlet. It was like punching pudding. A toddler could kill these things.
The bug goo didn’t appear to be toxic. The bugs didn’t offer any discernible experience, either. These seemed to be much less dangerous than the rats. I wondered what sort of monster they turned into.
We moved to examine the smushed remains of the third corpse. It was as I suspected.
Lootable Corpse. Brindle Grub. Level 2. Killed by Crawler Agatha.
Vial of Brindle Grub Hemolymph. (Alchemy Material.)
It looked as if she’d run over the thing with her shopping
cart. It took about ten minutes before a corpse became lootable by other crawlers, and that was the only indication of how long ago this had been. Her head start was several hours by now thanks to our interlude on the surface. I took the vial.
Donut jumped down and sniffed at the corpse. She made a disgusted face. “Repulsive. I see a couple more red dots one hallway over.”
I looked at my map, and the red dots weren’t there. A blink, and then they appeared. I’d been noticing that recently, that Donut could sense active monsters a few moments before I could. I suspected it had something to do with her race, but I wasn’t certain. These dots were moving quickly down the adjacent hallway.
“Those aren’t grubs. If the bugs are like the rats, then we haven’t yet met the mobs of this quadrant.” I took my foot, and I smashed down on the remains of the corpse that Agatha had killed. I smashed and crushed, smearing the innards all over the place until the X disappeared on the map.
“Carl,” Donut said, looking between me and the splattered remains. “Are you quite all right?”
“Did you read that description of the grubs?” I said as I wiped my foot on a cinderblock. I could barely feel the bottom of my soles. The sides of my foot were still as sensitive as ever. “We can’t just leave corpses lying around. Even their own corpses. Not in this part of the dungeon. From now on, we do our best to leave as little behind as possible.”
She crinkled her nose. “I don’t feel as if that’s an efficient use of our time. My people aren’t going to enjoy watching me desecrate the dead. This is just revolting. I’d much rather you not do this.”
“Your people aren’t going to enjoy watching you get killed by whatever these things grow up to be.”
We continued down the hall, turning a junction, then another, angling toward the other red dots. These guys were moving in what looked like a patrol pattern. I suspected if we continued further in that direction we’d find their base and the neighborhood boss. That wasn’t something I wanted to tackle just yet.
Dungeon Crawler Carl Page 23
