Chapter 29 (Patreon)

Quick Note. My goal is to get these chapters well ahead of the content on RR. Since this is new, it'll take a few days to pull ahead. As such, the level of editing is going to be less than optimal.   

Chapter 29

The lights of the studio flipped all the way on, and the audience snapped away. The studio remained, but the bleachers were just gone. Odette remained behind the desk. 

“Great show everyone,” Odette said, looking up at the ceiling. There wasn’t anybody else in the room that I could see. She looked over our shoulders. “Give us five, Plexis. Watch the packets and ping me if one of those AIs sticks their nose in here. I want to talk to our guests for a minute without anybody snooping.” 

I turned to see Lexis standing at the door that led back into the green room. “Yes, ma’am,” Lexis said, backing into the other room. The door closed. 

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 revealing 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 wasn’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 showbusiness.” 

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 zipped around the desk and came to hover in front of the couch. Her magical wheelchair emanated a very 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 a 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 skyfowls,” 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 watch 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 mudskippers won’t like it.”

“Mudskippers?” 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. Mudskipper. 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 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’d given 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.”

“So if we don’t make it, he’s stuck until next season?” I asked.  

“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 quiet 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 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.”