Chapter 92 (Patreon)

Time to level collapse: 4 days, 20 hours. 

It took me longer than I’d like to admit to figure out how to turn the train around. There was a section of track designed for the purpose. The track was shaped like a T on its side, and I had to steam past it, get out and hit the switch, back into the base of the T, hit the switch again two times, and it turned the Nightmare around. 

I managed to talk Zev into delaying our obligation to go on the show about pet and beauty pageants for six hours. She’d huffed and puffed, but since it wasn’t a live show, it turned out to not be a big deal. It would give us time to sleep, eat, get our training room time in, and shower. Plus I wanted to stick my head into the Desperado Club. Then we’d go on the stupid show, which would eat two or three hours. This close to the end, that seemed like a ridiculous waste of time.   

We went down to station 41 and parked the train. I told Brandy our plans, and she seemed content to just sit there and idle. Donut leaped to my shoulder as I ascended the ladder. This station was exactly as I expected. One restaurant, one store, and the Desperado Club. There were multiple exits. 

A line of red-tagged ghouls appeared on the map from all of the colored station landings, but they weren’t stopping. They remained on the tracks, shuffling higher.    

Once we were up there, Donut finally released Mongo, and we headed for the saferoom, which was a Greek café called Everest. We skipped past the bopca and went straight to our personal space. We’d missed the last recap episode, and the announcement hadn’t been anything special. The leaderboard hadn’t moved. 

As we entered the room, I received updates from both Meadow Lark and Bautista. 

Imani and crew had safely ridden the conveyor system all the way down to Trainyard D, which also had a breached gate. Still, they’d arrived in a yard full of ghouls. They’d had a harrowing running and fighting battle. They’d taken shelter in the Iron Tangle administrative building outside of the yard. Elle had floated above the ghouls and frozen them by the hundreds, eventually killing all the ones surrounding the building. I got to listen to her bitch for five minutes straight about how little experience she’d received for it. Once they killed all the ones in the immediate area, all the newcomers ignored the building and walked straight back into the tunnels. The former Meadow Lark residents were currently holed up in the building planning their next move. 

I suggested they take the employee train tunnel on foot up to the nearest transfer station.

Meanwhile, Bautista said the Kravyad wasn’t a boss monster at all, but instead was a multi-armed snake woman NPC, just like Madison had reported. The NPC had attempted to hypnotize the crawlers, but Bautista had somehow neutralized her ability to cast the spell. He said, “I used my last Voca Nye. The purple variant.” I had no idea what that meant. 

But a new wrinkle had developed. Defenseless, the Kravyad was now threatening to kill herself if the crawlers got any closer. The crawlers remained on the platform while one of them, apparently a former police negotiator, was talking to her through the doorway. If she did kill herself, and that portal closed, it was going to get ugly. Less than half of them still had their hats which would allow them passage through the only other portals in the area, the portals above the abyss. That was their last practical chance to get to the stairwells after the employee portal. With less than five days left and the vast majority of the subway trains now stopped, those in the group without their souvenir hats were in very real danger of finding themselves stranded. 

I trained my Powerful Strike, which did not advance, and then I collapsed into bed, sleeping the full two hours. 

Afterward, Donut and I headed to the Desperado Club to talk to any remaining crawlers while Katia spent some time at her makeup table. We only had about an hour of free time before we’d get teleported away, and I didn’t want to waste it. 

“Sledgie!” Donut cried when we entered the club. She jumped to the rock monster’s shoulder. 

The cretin grumbled in greeting. A blue magic protection spell appeared around us, followed by a new one, this time a translucent shield spell, a real shield spell, that would also protect us from physical attacks. Between the two spells, we were now practically invulnerable while we were in the club.

“I bought shield spell,” Bomo said proudly. “The Sledge cast magic protect. I cast smack protect.” 

“That’s really awesome,” I said. “We appreciate it.”  

We moved to the dance floor, which was sparsely populated with actual crawlers. After explaining why I wanted to exchange everyone’s chat info, I ended up collecting an additional 10 names to my list. 

“We should go into the Bitches and Penis Parade strip clubs to see if anybody is in there,” Donut said. “Plus I’ve always wanted to see a naked man dance around. One with better moves than that one weird guy who always came over when you were gone. He used to dance in the mirror and stare at himself and call himself a king. He’d put your socks on his wang and twirl them around in the mirror.” 

I barely heard her. Instead, I was staring at the man sitting at the bar. “Holy shit,” I said. Donut hadn’t yet noticed the purple-skinned elf creature. I tapped her on the back and pointed. She turned and hissed, all of her hair poofing out.

“Did that guy come in alone?” I asked Bomo. 

“He alone,” Bomo rumbled. “He always alone. He here a lot. Usually in Bitches room.” 

“What are we going to do?” Donut asked. “Should we get him?”   

“No,” I said. “You go ahead and look in Bitches and Penis Parade. But be careful.” 

The man at the counter appeared to be drunk. He was missing his right hand. He should have chosen a race like Katia’s, something that would’ve allowed him to regrow a limb. He clutched a drink with his left. 

I leaned in and said to The Sledge, “Watch Donut carefully. There might be a woman in here who wants to hurt her. She’ll fill you in on the details.” I turned to Bomo. “Stay with me. This guy is much more dangerous than he looks. Even with only one hand.” 

I approached and sat down next to the man, keeping him more than an arm’s length away. 

“Hello, Frank,” I said. “It’s been a while. You look like shit.” 

~

Frank was drunk. Very drunk. He seemed almost physically attached to the bar. I examined his properties. 

Crawler #324,119. “Frank Q.”
Level 17.
Race: Night Elf.
Class: Blood Assassin. 

Only level 17? He was seriously lagging behind. 

I didn’t know what a blood assassin was, but a night elf was much like a dark elf or a drow from so many other games. His rough face was still recognizable in elf form. His skin glowed dark purple in the lights of the club, reminding me of an eggplant. He’d lost his spiked shoulder pads and battle axe. He now wore a flowing, black jacket. He still sported the Seahawks beanie on his head, though now he had long, black hair. It looked out of place above his dark elf countenance. Fanged incisors peeked out from his lips. 

The man’s eyes were heavy with deep rings underneath them. It didn’t appear as if he’d slept in ages. He smelled, too, of an odd mix of perfume and stale alcohol.  

“Carl?” he said, looking up. He didn’t have a speech bubble over his head. He tried to draw it using his stump, and the spell failed. The badger-headed bartender, with practiced ease, drew it for him. “Carl, is that really you? What the hell is a primal? You still look human. Where’s your cat?” 

“She’s here,” I said. “Where’s your wife?” 

“Dunno,” he said. “I haven’t seen her since the end of the second floor. She’s around, though. I can see her on my interface. Don’t talk so much. I think she blocked me. Bitch. But I’m glad you’re here. They say you come here sometimes. Now I can get my revenge.” 

I tensed. This was either an elaborate trap, or the man had completely self-destructed and was now just talking shit. Based on his low level, I assumed the latter, but I prepared myself just in case.  

“You haven’t seen her since the second floor? So right after our appearance on the Maestro’s show?”

He nodded. “And I know you haven’t seen her either, because you’re both still alive. We got into a fight. About you and your cat. My plan after that was to sit at a bar just like this and wait for the end. But I got kicked out of the saferoom an hour before the second floor collapsed, and I wandered into the stairwell. When I got to race selection, that tentacled asshole told me Maggie had already chosen her race and class and left.” 

“What did she pick?” I asked. 

He shrugged. “Dunno. Is soul-sucking bitch a class?” He grunted at his own joke. “It probably is. I don’t even remember picking this body. I was so drunk. I think he picked it for me.” 

This conversation was not going the way I had expected. “But you made it through the third floor, obviously.” 

“Yup. Met up with some folks. Maggie used to tell me I was the William Shakespeare of lies. A damn virtuoso. That’s why we got a divorce. But you know what?” He raised his stump, like he was pointing a finger. Bomo lifted his arm, lightning quick, but I waved him away. “Sometimes the truth is worse. I told them the truth, and they ditched me at the end of the floor. I didn’t want to go down. But I’m a coward, and I did what cowards do. I followed the easiest path, and I descended. Stupid. I landed on a train with a bunch of new folks. But they didn’t want anything to do with me, either. These skulls make it hard for people to trust you. Got off at station 101, saw the Desperado Club, and I haven’t left the station since. Gonna be brave this time. And more drunk.”

He pulled out what I first thought was a cigarette, but then I recognized it as one of the highly-addictive blitz sticks. It smelled like patchouli. I still had one in my own inventory. When smoked, the drugs could permanently increase your intelligence, but there were unspecified side effects. 

“And,” he added after taking a long drag. “I’m going to do what Maggie hasn’t. I’m going to avenge Yvette.” 

Yvette was his teenaged daughter. The one who Maggie had inexplicably choked to death after they’d tripped my dynamite trap. 

“How are you going to do that?” I asked. I tensed, ready to jump into action. I had no idea where he was going, and that made me nervous. 

“I’m going to give you a present,” he said. “That is how I will avenge my daughter.” 

He pulled an item from his inventory. Since he didn’t have a right hand, the small, metal item clattered onto the bar. Bomo leaped between us, pushing me back. Several cretin bodyguards I hadn’t even noticed were suddenly surrounding us, arms raised. 

Frank cackled with drunken amusement. “You guys sure are jumpy tonight. Are you really this much of a pussy, Carl? I’m not going to hurt you. Not physically. My fightin’ days are over. My revenge will be via a different means.” 

He sat back, leaving the object on the bar. It was a magical ring. Green glass with a red jewel. It glowed with enchantment. I kept my eyes on Frank. 

“You see, Maggie, she’s more hot-headed than I am. She wants to fucking kill you and your cat. It’s not your fault. I know that. You defended yourself. You did the same thing I would’ve done if the situations were reversed. But Mags, she don’t see it that way. She’s more biblical with her thirst for vengeance.” 

“What is that?” I asked, indicating the ring. 

He pushed it forward with his stump. “It’s yours, now. Got it in a legendary box right after we got in the dungeon. It ruined us. Now I’m giving it to you. That’s my revenge. You’re going to take it, because you’d be stupid not to. A jeweler in one of those big towns on the last floor offered me 300,000 gold for it.” He laughed. “It’s like winning the lottery. Of course you take the money if you win. But it ends up ruining you. That’s what this did to us, and that’s what this will do to you. That’s my revenge. It’s all I have left to offer. And it’s all I want. Knowing what happened isn’t enough. You need to understand. You need to feel it. You look down on me. I can see it. But you don’t understand. Fuck you, Carl. Take the ring.” 

The dude wasn’t making sense. I looked closely at the ring, examining its properties. 

Enchanted Night Wyrm’s Ring of Divine Suffering.

Oooh, that’s scary sounding. 

For the discerning Crawler Killer, this magical ring can be one of the most formidable items in the dungeon. If utilized properly, this ring’s wielder can grow exponentially in strength, especially on the deeper floors. But beware. If poorly wielded, this ring will kill you quicker than an exploding rage elemental. Either way, this ring imparts one of the dungeon’s most highly sought-after skills.

The wearer of this ring receives the following benefits: 

+5% to all stats.
The Marked for Death Skill

I reached over and picked up the ring. I had to hold it in my hand before I could read the description of the Marked for Death skill. 

Marked for Death. 

It’s not just Steven Seagal’s magnum opus. It’s also one of the dungeon’s greatest, most infamous skills! 

Once activated, you will be presented with a list of all crawlers within your map’s range. Only crawlers with 100% health will be selectable. Once a crawler is chosen, they will be marked. It takes 30 seconds for the mark to fully set and become active. When a crawler with an active mark dies, no matter the cause, you will receive a permanent +1 stat point to whatever that crawler’s current highest stat is.  

Warning. Once a mark is set, you may no longer heal. If you are injured, or poisoned, or if you get a hangnail, you will suffer the ill effects and pain of that injury until the moment your prey is killed. So choose your marks carefully. Don’t let them get away.  

You may only mark those designated as crawlers and other non-dungeon-generated combatants. You may only mark one crawler at a time except on the ninth floor. This skill has a five-hour cooldown on floors 1,2,3,4,5,7, and 8. It has no cooldown on the sixth floor. Also on the sixth floor, marks will form instantly. There is a 15-minute cooldown on the ninth floor, but there is no limit to the number of simultaneous marks. All remaining floors have no cooldowns or delay to mark formation.  

Current cooldown: 5 hours.

Marks take 30 seconds to form on this floor.     

Happy hunting.  

“Wow,” I said. “You got this in a box?” 

“Yes,” he said. “And now it is yours. Got it for fighting a family member while I entered the dungeon. A legendary ‘That’s the Spirit’ box or some shit like that.” 

“Fighting a family member?” 

“My ex-brother in law. Not even a real family member, but the dungeon didn’t see it that way. I choked him out, and then we got attacked by rat-kins, these rat monsters that walk on two legs, and they killed him while he was still unconscious. Jesus. Do you remember that day, when it first started? One minute we were outside the annex, fighting, and then the buildings were just gone. What a mindfuck.” 

“Of course I remember…” And then it hit me. I trailed off. Holy shit. I remembered the video from the Maestro’s show. Yvette had been injured by the dynamite. She’d been screaming in pain. I looked at the ring in my hand, horror dawning on me. 

I waved the bartender over and ordered a drink. “Whiskey,” I said, voice hoarse. He poured, and I drank. 

“You let your daughter use the ring before you attacked us?”

“Not ‘let,’” he said. “Made. I made my daughter use it. She refused to fight. She wasn’t going up levels. This was the compromise. She wore the ring. Mags told her which mark to choose. We’d picked you. I figured the cat might get away. Never imagined you would. It was the only way we could make her stronger. She marked you, we waited thirty seconds for the mark to settle, and we attacked. Would’ve had you, too, if you hadn’t been saved by the saferoom.”    

That was why Maggie had killed her own daughter. She was in pain from the explosion. She wasn’t going to heal. The pain wasn’t going to stop. Not as long as I was alive. 

“She was beautiful, you know. On the inside, I mean. She didn’t have that anger in her. Not like her mother. Or her dad. When she ran away, it wasn’t because she was a bad kid. It was self-defense. Kids aren’t always a product of their parents. But sometimes that doesn’t matter, not one lick.” 

That poor girl. Jesus, she must’ve been so scared. I felt no sympathy for the man next to me. He deserved all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. But I understood him a little better now. 

It was as if he read my mind. He suddenly erupted in anger. “You don’t understand what it means to be responsible for somebody. You don’t have a kid in here with you. You don’t understand what that responsibility means, what a weight that is on your shoulders. And when you fail, it’s like being crushed, constantly crushed, only you don’t die. And the pain never stops. It just keeps coming and coming.” 

A silence hung between us for a long time. 

“Were you really a cop?” I finally asked. 

“Yup,” he said. “Customs Enforcement. Maggie was a detective at Seattle PD.” The bartender refilled my glass without asking and pushed it toward me. “Cheers,” Frank said. “To the end of the world.” 

“But you were divorced?” I didn’t know why I was asking this stuff. It didn’t matter, not really. This man didn’t deserve for his story to be told, not after what he did. In a way, people like him were worse than the Syndicate and the aliens who’d destroyed us. He was one of us, and he’d turned against his own. 

But we all have that in us, the curiosity. The need to know the truth. And I really wanted to know why someone like him could exist. I understood, philosophically at least, that he was killing people in part to strengthen his child. But that was a choice, not the only path. I felt nothing but revulsion for him. 

“Mags and I separated five years ago.” 

“But you were together the night it happened. You went into the dungeon together. With your daughter.”

“Yvette ran away. Again. Got picked up by the Pierce County Sheriff. My brother in law was a deputy. He was Maggie’s little brother. Always protective of her. Blamed me for all of Yvette’s issues. He called us to come get her. It pulled me off a surveillance. Two in the goddamn morning on the coldest night of the year, and the four of us were in the parking lot, all screaming at each other when it happened. Yvette ran into the tunnel. Maggie tried to run in after her, and I pushed her, which made her brother mad. He didn’t understand what was happening. He attacked me. We went in fighting.”  

“Come on, Carl,” Donut said. “It’s time for us to leave.” 

I turned to see her standing there on The Sledge’s shoulder, glaring at Frank. Both her and The Sledge now had pink feather boas around their necks. The Sledge now also wore a cowboy hat. Hanging from the boa on the Sledge’s neck was a giant pinback button that read, “I like my sausages extra-large. Penis Parade. Desperado Club Floor One.” 

“Did Maggie ever take that potion?” I asked, standing from my chair. The Maestro had given them a legendary skill potion that would max out the “Find Crawler” skill. 

“That’s what we were fighting about. I wanted to sell the potion and the ring. Use the money to buy gear and to train properly, but all she wanted was revenge. She has the potion, but I don’t know if she’s taken it or not. Our guide suggested that she wait until she picked a class to take it. Something that would let the skill rise up to 20, not 15. But I don’t know if she did that or not.” 

I suddenly thought of those PVP coupons. I wondered if Maggie had one. I wondered if she’d received extra rewards for killing her own daughter. I shuddered. 

“Okay,” I said. “I’m sorry your daughter had to die. She didn’t deserve that. Goodbye, Frank.” 

I met eyes with the man one last time. He was no longer a threat. His wife—ex-wife—was dangerous, possibly even more dangerous than I realized, but Frank was done. I had no doubts he wouldn’t be getting off this floor. Maybe not even up from this bar.  

The man drunkenly watched me take the ring and slip it onto my left index finger.  

“Vengeance is mine,” he said.