Book 7, Chapter 5 (Patreon)

Dante.

Dante read the newsletter a third time. He exchanged a look with Justice Light, his skyfowl neighbor.

“They can’t do this,” Justice Light said. He also had Damien’s newsletter clutched in his shaking talon. “Who’s going to mind my shop?”

“They’ll throw either a bopca or a generated NPC in there, like they always do,” Dante said, sighing. Justice was relatively new to his indentureship, only ten seasons in. Kept in storage between seasons, so it was all still new to him. Everything was still raw.

They didn’t do this often, but it wasn’t the first time they’d reassigned a bunch of the workers for an entire floor. Especially when the showrunners were particularly cheap, like the Operatics.

“But an NPC is going to mess it up. It took me this long to get my shelves organized exactly as I wanted. The generic version doesn’t even stock the important stuff.”

“It’ll just be for this next floor,” Dante said. “You can save and backup your stock configuration. It’ll be easy to get it back.”

“We’re not supposed to fight, though,” Justice Light said. “Not unless we’re tenners. They promised we wouldn’t have to fight. I’m marked as a non-combatant.” He looked at Dante. “And so are you.”

“We’ll be snow castle guard captains,” Dante said, trying to sound reassuring. “It’s a settlement, not a boss room. We’ll still be white-tagged. They can reassign us if there’s a ‘need.’ It’s in the contract. They have to pay when they make new types of unavailable NPCs, and it’s cheaper for them to reassign us.”

“Will we be protected?”

Dante fought the urge to laugh. He shook his crocodilian head. “Sorry, buddy. But, look. We’ll be okay. They use us because it’s cheap to use us for this sort of thing, but it’s expensive if we die, so they don’t like putting us in too much danger.”

That wasn’t exactly true, but Dante knew small lies were okay if it calmed one’s nerves, especially those such as skyfowl, who were always on edge.

Dante had followed Justice Light’s season carefully, and he knew the skyfowl very well. Better than he let on. He knew how it had ended for the poor crawler. About how shattered he was. Even ten seasons in, and the skyfowl still had no fight left in him.

He’d immediately recognized the skyfowl for what he was once he started making some familiar choices.

It was obvious when someone had the cookbook, at least to those who’d owned it before.

Justice Light had been an especially emotional owner of the book, but he’d also been a brilliant trap master. He was infamous for killing a shopkeeper during his season, but he’d clearly felt guilty about it. It had been a defining moment of his crawl, and it had started a slow spiral he was never able to correct. People had been surprised when the skyfowl had demanded his indentureship be that of a shopkeeper, replacing the very NPC he’d killed, which was not something they normally allowed. He’d even agreed to a longer commitment in exchange for the opportunity. But Dante wasn’t surprised. Not even a little.

Dante had immediately applied to move from the lockpicking guild to the trap master guild. The shop and the guild were oftentimes in close proximity, and he jumped at the chance to be near his brother.

Dante wasn’t sure why he never said anything about who he was. They barely monitored them when there were no crawlers nearby. Neither of them had the cookbook anymore, so they could talk about it freely. Still, he’d held off.  This season was being run by the blob idiots, the Operatics. They were always lax with their security. So why hadn’t he said anything? Guilt, maybe? He’d only written a single entry, afraid he’d get caught. When it was clear those who’d come after him would pour themselves into the book, it made him feel even worse about not leaving more information.

It was the same for Justice Light. Guilt. An overwhelming sense of honor, of wanting to correct his wrongs.

The eighth level was about to open, and both Dante and Justice Light had just been informed they’d be reassigned for the floor. This season, the eighth was going to consist of multiple mountains, all connected with wires and gondolas. The crawlers were a strange type of mantis, much different than the more common ones who sometimes ran the crawl. They could not fly, and they would do poorly in the cold. There was a crawler named York whom Dante was watching carefully.

This castle they were reassigned to this next floor was in a settlement, so they were still tagged as NPCs. Not mobs. He had no idea what to expect. He only had 14 seasons left. He could taste it. Freedom. Finally, freedom.

“I can’t fight. Not crawlers,” Justice Light said. He straightened, and the feathers on his neck rustled. “I won’t be able to. I’ll refuse. What’ll happen to me then?”

“Nothing good,” Dante said.

Hopefully, they wouldn’t have to find out. These jobs usually didn’t require them to face off against any crawlers. He didn’t want that, and if it did come to violence, he didn’t know what he’d do, either. He envied Justice Light in his conviction.

Dante had violence in his heart. A lot of violence. But he only wanted it directed at those who deserved it. He was so close to freedom. If it came down to it, what would he do?

Fuck you all, he thought.

Class: Thief.

Race: Crocodilian.

Birth Race: Crocodilian.

Top Level: 88

Dungeon Exit: Took deal at the beginning of the 11th floor.

Worked as a Game Guide and Guildhall Instructor in the Trap Master guild. Was killed 14 seasons short of his exit while temporarily reassigned as an Ice Castle guard. Was killed by administrative action for refusing to follow orders.

Author of the Third Edition of the Dungeon Anarchist’s Cookbook.

Current status: Dead.

Chapter 5

“Carl, is it Garret? Do you have Garret? You said he died!”

“I did not say that. And it’s not... well, it is him, technically, but it’s...”

“In all of my life, I have never felt a sense of betrayal this profound, Carl,” Donut said. “Are Mongo and I being replaced? Is that what’s happening here? You’re replacing us?”

“Donut, calm the fuck down,” I said. “Nobody is replacing anybody.”

“Why haven’t you told me about this, then?” She gasped. “It’s an affair. It’s the same sort of thing. You’re having an affair! And to think the other woman is a meatball. How are you ever going to look Mongo in the eye again?”

“That doesn’t even make sense. Will you stop freaking out for one second and let me explain.”

“Explain? What is there to explain? I expected this from Miss Beatrice, but not you. Come on, Mongo. Carl has a new best friend. Let’s go someplace where we’re wanted.”

Mongo squawked in confusion, looking back and forth between me and her.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said. “Donut, chill the fuck out and let me tell you what happened. And let me pull him out.”

“Pull him out? Why? Is he hungry? Does he want a dinosaur snack? Mongo, stay with mommy!”

“I’m more worried about the other way around,” I said. “Okay, Mongo. Don’t eat him.” I zapped the level-1 tummy acher out onto the table.

“Carl, what are you doing? Don’t you dare bring that thing...”

Donut stopped her rant in mid-sentence to stare at the tiny creature.

The miniature, round meatball thing rolled across the table and stood up on his two, stout legs, looking at Donut. He spun in a circle, small mouth agape as he took in the room. He was half the size of my fist. He did not have the same mohawk like these things usually had, but a spattering of black hairs atop his not-quite-perfectly-round head. The first one of these things I’d seen was red-tagged, but this one wasn’t. I didn’t know if that was because he used to be Ren’s pet or because of my peace symbol patch plus my higher charisma. He still had the same pronounced underbite as Garret, his single, round tooth sticking straight up.

“Carl, that is most certainly not Garret. He doesn’t even have a name!” Donut examined him closely. “Goodness, what a strange little... No, Mongo! No!”

Mongo stopped just short of gobbling the baby up, mouth inches away.

The little monster made a ridiculously cute, high-pitched giggling noise and shuffled closer to the confused dinosaur and jumped right into Mongo’s open mouth with a hop. He rolled over inside the dinosaur’s mouth, little, elephant-like feet waving in the air as he continued to giggle. Mongo’s eyes went huge as he suddenly didn’t know what to do.

“Mongo, spit him out this instant!” Donut cried. “You’re going to get some weird meatball cheater disease!”

Mongo did not spit him out. Instead, he seemed to contemplate for a moment before he lifted his head in the air and swallowed.

“Goddamnit, Mongo,” I cried, waiting for the dinosaur to teleport away. He did not.

“Well, that didn’t last long, now did it,” Donut said after a moment. “Mongo, we do not eat people unless mommy gives the order. Carl, if he gets worms, I’m blaming you. He looked like someone who might give worms.”

“Why didn’t Mongo get in trouble?” I asked. “Are pets allowed to attack pets in saferooms?” I looked over to the crafting studio, wondering if we should call Mordecai out. If that thing regenerated, but was still in Mongo’s stomach... That could be bad.

“I think it’s because he was suicidal, Carl. He climbed right into his mouth!” She looked over at the dinosaur. “Uh-oh.” She started to back away.

With a hurk, hurk, hurk noise, Mongo yakked the meatball back out onto the table. The little ball rolled out, bouncing and giggling. Mongo made a move to gobble him back up, but Donut shouted for him to stop.

“Ew, ew, Carl! This is not acceptable! Look what you made Mongo do!”

Mongo closed his mouth and made an uncertain peep. He reached forward to sniff at the creature. The meatball made a little grunting noise and tried to climb back into Mongo’s mouth. Mongo backed up and ran to the back of the room.

“Carl, you’re cheating on me with an imbecile,” Donut said.

I sighed and re-examined the little guy.

Male Tummy Acher – Level 1

This is a pet-class mob.

This pet is not bonded with a crawler.*

This pet has died five times. As such, this pet’s stats are all buffed by 125%.

This pet has five weaknesses. Weaknesses may only be examined if you are bonded with this pet or if you have him contained within a carrier.

Tummy Achers are named such because they were originally parasites, living in the intestinal tracts of Jotan-class Titans. They are generally good-natured, though infants can be a little... difficult to control. They are voracious eaters, and when they reach full size can swallow just about anything. They have multiple tank-based special abilities and are generally resistant to most types of damage. They can survive in almost any environment. In addition, while not necessarily known for their offensive skills, their Wrecking Ball attack is considered a terror on any battlefield.

They may be dumb, they may smell a little like chorizo, but holy shit are they adorable.

This Tummy Acher will reach full size upon ascending to level 25.

This particular pet is unique in that it will regenerate upon death as long as their body has not been destroyed. After each regeneration, they will be stronger than before, their overall stats getting buffed by an additional 25%. They will retain their size and strength upon regeneration except upon every five deaths, wherein they will revert to level 1 and lose their memories. Bonded pets will have to be re-bonded at this time. You must change their name as well. After 10 deaths, their full potential size doubles.

Warning: This pet will not regenerate if it dies before it hits level 5.

Warning: Upon death, they will receive a new, random weakness. This weakness generally results in insta-death. The more deaths, the higher the chance the weakness will be something common, like contact with water. It’s considered quite rare for a tummy acher to survive past 10 deaths, thus it’s not advisable to deliberately allow your pet to die in order to increase its strength.

“Five weaknesses?” Donut asked, scoffing. “So it’s stupid and defective?”

The thing, still dripping with Mongo goo, rolled onto his back and started making a gurgling noise.

“My goodness, it is adorable, though. Ugly adorable. Carl, this is not Garett. This is a baby.”

“I know, Donut. If you let me explain, I can tell you what happened. We didn’t have time at the end of the last floor.”

~

I moved to the food box and pulled out what was supposed to be a sausage breakfast sandwich as I finished telling Donut the story. We’d just received notification that Katia had finally made it into their saferoom. They were going to open Louis’s celestial box and then come over here.

“We can’t keep him, Carl,” Donut said as she watched the little guy run in circles around the floor. Mongo had decided he wasn’t food after all and was bouncing back and forth, pretending to pounce. The meatball thought it was hilarious.

“What the hell?” I muttered. Instead of my usual sandwich, this was a steaming bowl, with my sandwich within, crumbled up. The bowl was filled with a thick, white soup. I sniffed it, and it smelled like seafood.

“Chowder style is supposed to be optional,” I said, examining the food box controls. I slammed my fist against the door, and the device let out an angry beep. “I can’t eat this!”

“Carl, if we’re going to heal our relationship, you need to pay attention to me,” Donut said.

“I am paying attention. Hey, uh, Garret 2, come here and eat this,” I said, putting the bowl on the floor.

Both Mongo and the meatball scrambled toward the bowl, but a shout from Donut caused Mongo to pause. Garret made an excited glurping noise and hopped face-first into the chowder. He popped up, looked at the dinosaur, and made a growling noise, the first sign of aggression at all. Donut gasped in outrage as Mongo backed up. The tiny creature disappeared into the white mix and started to devour the chowder.

“I promised Ren I would look after him,” I said. “I feel obligated.”

“First off, if it’s not going to let you keep his original name, you will absolutely not name him Garret two or Garret five or Garret six if you want to be super technical. Absolutely not. I once knew a Bombay named Trixie’s Secret Talent, Take Two, named after her own mother, and let me tell you, it gave that cat serious mental issues. The worst attention whore I’ve ever seen, which is saying a lot, especially for a Bombay. Honorifics are one thing, but being known as a second edition, like a photocopy? Can you imagine? That’s a hard no, Carl. The last thing we need is that thing being even more mentally unstable than it already is. And anyway, it sounds like Ren hoisted him on you without asking. Maybe you can give him to Louis or Britney. They both seem lonely.”

The thing popped up from the bowl and looked at me, eyes huge. His dot had changed from white to orange.

“Too late,” I said. “Man, that was a lot easier than getting Mongo to bond. Ren said we had to feed him a few times, but it only took one bowl.”

Congratulations. You have bonded with Tummy Acher, level-one. A new tab is available in your interface. Bonded Pets. Please see this tab for more information.

Your guild has a pet stables installed. New options are available in your Bonded Pets tab.

Your Tummy Acher requires a name. Please choose a name now.

“Ca, Ca, Ca,” he said, looking at me. He burped.

Donut scoffed once again, looking back and forth between me and the meatball. “He bonded easily because he’s an idiot, Carl.”

There was more food in the bowl than he could possibly eat, and he pushed himself out, using his legs to jump and roll. He splotched onto the floor, leaving a trail of white chowder. Overhead, the cleaner bot made a disapproving bleep. He burped again and then started to push the bowl across the floor, thrusting it toward Mongo, who let out an excited squawk and rushed forward. The dinosaur stuck his head in the bowl and licked the rest of it up in a handful of seconds.

“Do you know who Cousin Oliver is, Carl?” Donut demanded, watching the display.

“Was he that one cat with the really weird eye?”

“No, Carl. That was my sister-cousin, Ginger Snap, and we don’t talk about her. Cousin Oliver was from The Brady Bunch. This thing is like that. Cousin Oliver. Scrappy Doo. Guppy on iCarly. April on Gilmore Girls.” She spat out that last one. “All late series additions. All attempts to add something new and cute and exciting to a perfectly good cast that ended up making everything worse.”

I grinned and gave Donut a pat. “Don’t worry. You’ll always be my number one girl.”

She harrumphed. “I’m sure that’s what they said to Mary Kate and Ashley before those other twins arrived.”

“Jesus, Donut. How do you even know all this stuff?”

Katia came into the room, followed by Bautista and Louis. Samantha sat on Louis’s shoulder, talking animatedly. It made him look like he had two heads.

“We are putting a pin on this, Carl, but I am serious. He is cute now, yes. But they always are when they’re young. We need to give him to someone who’s not already spoken for in the pet department. I don’t care if he’s bonded or not.” She turned to face the others. “Hi Katia! Hi Louis! Hi Katia’s boyfriend!”

Katia patted my shoulder and picked up the container for the Rev Up hair tonic and started reading the instructions. The thing came with multiple trays and brushes. “Let’s do Carl’s hair, and then we can go out and look at Louis’s new toy.”

“We are going to use it to kill Tish,” Samantha added. She made a whistling noise followed by an explosion with her mouth.

“Uh, no we’re not,” Louis said. “I don’t even know who that is.”

Donut let out a sniff. “Samantha, you shouldn’t hold Tish accountable for what happened. That was 100% Ghazi’s fault.”

“I’m going to kill her,” Samantha said. “And I am going to kill Katia for not allowing me to slake my need for revenge.”

“Samantha,” I said. “What did I tell you about threatening people? And how did you even get out?”

“I went out the door, Carl. I went looking for my child, but then Louis told me he was at the college, and I went to kill her before she could steal him from me like she tried to do to Ghazi.”

Ghazi... Ghazi. I finally remembered what all this was about. Ghazi was the now-dead “Mad Dune Mage” from the sand castle during the bubble floor. He’d been the one who had the last part of the Gate of the Feral Gods. He’d been trying to animate his sex doll using the gate, but the whole time he was being tricked by Psamathe, trying to get her body back, who’d possessed the sex doll body. She was only a head because Mongo had knocked her over while she was made of glass and broken her body. Samantha had tricked Ghazi into “marrying” her sand ooze daughter—something I still didn’t fully understand—before everything had gone to shit.

Once Ghazi had realized he’d been tricked, he’d written to the college here in Larracos, asking for help. We’d found the letters. In those letters, it was revealed that Ghazi’s ex-girlfriend, Tish, still worked at the college, and that he’d left her for the sex doll. I remembered that Samantha had some choice words for Tish earlier.

“Wait,” Donut asked. “Did you find your child?”

Samantha brightened. “She’s here! I can feel her, but she’s in the castle of the stinky dwarves! She’s still in the water. Carl, we need to go get my body taken care of, and then I can get in the water and reunite with my child.” She turned to Louis and gave him a hard stare. “But if you’re not going to let me blow Tish up, I’m going to tell Juice Box about your affair with her. I’ll have her do my dirty work for me.”

“What?” Louis asked.

But Samantha was already distracted by the baby tummy acher who’d walked up to Louis and was banging against his foot, looking up at him.

“Oh my god, he’s so cute!” Samantha cried. She rolled off Louis’s shoulder and bounced on the ground. She did a few circles around the small meatball. “Okay. Carl promised me I could name you.”

“No, I did not,” I said. “But we do need to name him now. I have the window up on my interface, and I can’t get rid of it until we come up with something.”

“Is... is that Garret?” Louis asked, going to a knee. “What happened to him? You doing okay, little buddy?”

“Glurble,” the tummy acher said.

Donut started giving a quick, heavily redacted and stilted version of the story. While she did this, Katia pulled out one of the little plastic trays and started mixing some of the tonic.

Katia pulled a towel from her inventory and tied it around my shoulders and then grew an extra set of hands to hold my head steady. “Don’t move, Carl. It’s different for eyebrows and hair. There’s a dozen different types of hair, all with different mixes. That’s why it’s so complicated. Your eyelashes are also gone, so there’s a third mix I have to do. It’s almost identical to the pubic hair recipe, so I have to be extra careful with that one. This first one is easy.” She took the swab and carefully rubbed it over my left eyebrow. I felt the tingle of hair start to sprout.

“You doing okay?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

“I’m hanging in there,” she said as she leaned over me, working. “Mordecai is brewing something for me right now. Says it might help with the rehab. We’re going to do that tomorrow, so I’m done with it before the ceasefire ends. Don’t wiggle.” She wiped it across my right eyebrow. She leaned back.

“Good,” she said. “Now you don’t look so freakish. Eyelashes next.”

“...And then after her deathbed confession, she had the absolute gall to hoist her mentally unstable dinosaur murderer child on Carl. She knew he wouldn’t say no because Carl doesn’t say no to anybody. I have half a mind to name him Cousin Oliver. Or Scrappy. He only gets three strikes before he’s out on the street, and he’s already used up one of them by growling at Mongo.”

“I feel bad about her, about Ren,” Louis said. “She died, but Carl figured out how to save everyone like an hour later.”

“She was done,” I said, remembering how she looked at her friend. “Getting out wouldn’t have mattered. She left on her own terms. Don’t feel bad about it. She went out like a badass.”

“Don’t you dare move,” Katia said. She held an even smaller cotton swab now as she pulled my head into place. “This is the eyelash recipe. Close your eyes and don’t even breathe.” She started dabbing on the edge of my eyelids.

“If you can’t keep his name, you should name him Meatball,” Louis said. “Or Balzac. Like ball sack.” He laughed.

“We’re not naming him ball sack,” I said.

“Goddamnit, Carl. Don’t move,” Katia said. “Okay, now open.”

I blinked to see Donut right in front of me, carefully inspecting my eyelashes and brows. She leaned in super close.

“Hmm,” she said. “The eyelashes are longer than before, which makes him look slightly more feminine. Otherwise, this is quite good work, Katia. Very nice. Your cosmetology skills are much better than your sewing.” She took a step back and looked me up and down. “Is there a beard setting? I feel as if we should try a beard with all those filthy tattoos. You know, to lean into the look.”

“No,” I said.

The Name Your New Pet box remained persistent on my interface.

The small creature had turned from Louis and was now rubbing itself on Bautista’s hairy foot. The tiger crawler also went to a knee and gave him a pat. The tummy acher started to purr.

“I have a pair of stuffed tummy achers,” Bautista said, but I haven’t tried using them yet. “I suspect they’re much bigger than this one.”

“Do you want him?” Donut asked. “I’ll sell him to you. Five gold.”

“He is not for sale,” I said.

Louis snapped his finger. “How about Sherman? Like for a Sherman Tank? Or Tugboat? It fits ‘cause Carl was in the navy.”

I sighed, not bothering to correct him. “I do like Tugboat.”

“Absolutely not,” Donut said. “I will not have you saying, ‘Goddamnit, Tugboat’ over and over again. Can you imagine how annoying that would be?”

Katia pushed the small trays aside and was now mixing the tonic for the top of my head in the large, main tray. She kept moving back to the instructions to make certain she was doing it correctly. “Hmm,” she said after a moment. “Hey, Louis. Can you go out into the guild and grab Splash Zone for me? I’m going to need him for this next part.”

“Splash Zone?” Donut asked as Louis scurried away. “Why do we need a stripper? Is he going to give Carl a lap dance?”

“Well, I am naming him Kimmy,” Samantha announced as she followed Louis out the door. “Kimmy the second. I don’t care what you call him, he will always be Kimmy to me.”

“I do like Kimmy,” Donut said. “But not Kimmy the second. We don’t even know who Kimmy the first is.”

“Guys, this is taking way too long,” I said. “It’s much too built up already. It took us like two seconds to name Mongo.”

Donut sneered. “Mongo was easy because we didn’t know about his family. The name for this thing needs to honor the past but make it clear they’re not a copy of someone. Mongo is a good boy and can handle anything. This thing is deranged, and his name requires a delicate touch. Someone’s name can have a direct effect on the path they take in life. For example, have you ever met someone named Lacey who wasn’t a complete trainwreck? Or a boy named Jake who didn’t think he was always the main character? Names are important, Carl. Look at my own name. Look at all the names in my family. They are profound, yet they also honor the past. It’s a very elegant way to make a bold statement.”

“You have a brother named Skittles. And your grandmother was named Princess Chonkalot,” I said.

“My grandmother won over 70 best in shows, I’ll have you know,” Donut said. “She was one of the most celebrated North American Persians until her granddaughter came along and shattered all her records.”

“You just suggested we name him Cousin Oliver.”

“That was before I realized you were seriously considering keeping him.”

“If you’re going to name him after someone, it should be after Ren,” Bautista said.

Donut scoffed. “We can’t name him Cheater.”

“Daniel is right,” Katia said as she continued to mix the tonic in the largest tray. It bubbled, and a splotch landed on the table. The rock-like surface immediately sprouted hair. “It should be something that Ren would’ve liked.”

Louis and Samantha returned, followed closely by Splash Zone, the short, otter-like water mage stripper. He’d changed from his usual lifeguard outfit to a leather vest and little, red boots I recognized as something I’d received in an adventurer box ages ago.

“Hi, Splashy!” Donut called.

“Okay,” Katia said to the otter. She placed a hand atop my head, and the hand started to shape itself around my skull. “I’m going to put this stuff on Carl’s head, but it can only be on for like five seconds. We don’t want it uneven, so I have to place it all at once. I’m going to put it on, wait five seconds, then lift my hand. I need you power to wash it off his head when I say so.”

“Got it,” Splash Zone said, giving a thumbs up. “How strong should I make it?”

“Uh, shouldn’t we do this in the bathroom?” I asked.

“No,” Katia said. She started to wrap plastic around her scoop-shaped hand. “The room is too small, and the shower isn’t fast enough. Splash, make it strong. Just like you do at the club. Do your Wet Spot routine. Not enough to hurt, but enough to clean off his head fast. Everyone needs to get out of the way, and the cleaner bot can dry everything up when we’re done.”

The bot let out an angry beep from the ceiling.

The water mage pulled himself up onto the table. “Okay. Say the word.” He started gyrating his hips for no apparent reason.

Katia started spreading the bubbling concoction on the plastic while she grew more hands to hold me in place. “Don’t move an inch, Carl. We’ll have you lean forward.”

“Guys,” I said, suddenly nervous. “I’m a little worried about this.”

Donut scoffed. “Don’t be a baby, Carl. Miss Beatrice used to get her butthole bleached and her lady garden lasered, and those are much more delicate procedures than this.”

Donut and the others moved to the back of the room. Louis now had the tummy acher in his hands.

Katia started to place the scoop on my head when Louis shouted. “I got it!”

She paused. “What? What?”

He held the meatball up with two hands, like that monkey in The Lion King. “Sir Rendlegore. You know, Sir, S-I-R like a knight. And then Rendlegore. You can call him Rend. Sir Rendlegore. It fits with the royal court theme, and it still honors the past. Plus, Ren would’ve loved it. Nobody could ever pronounce her name. She pretended it made her mad, but I think she kinda liked it.”

“Okay, that is a good name,” Samantha agreed.

“Done,” I said before anybody else could respond. “It’s a good name.” I typed it into the box and hit enter.

Your pet has been named Sir Rendlegore!

“Now, can we get this over with?” I said, putting my head back down.

Katia splotched the cold tonic onto my head and started counting down from five.

“Uh-oh,” Splash Zone said.

~

“You have two choices,” Mordecai said, trying to suppress his laughter while he examined me. “Keep it at that length, or come back here every two hours and cut it again. If you hold it back in a ponytail and keep it tucked under the cape, it won’t be too noticeable. You can fix it in about two weeks. That’s aboot how long it’ll take to wear off.” He shrugged. “Or, you know, you can shove your head back up Samantha and burn it all off again.”

Elle, Imani, Chris, Florin, and several others were now in the room as well. Elle and Florin were also laughing their asses off.

“I like it,” Samantha said, circling me. “It’s very luscious. You look like one of the guys in your Christmas present book covers you haven’t opened yet.”

“Samantha, don’t ruin his Christmas present!” Donut said. “But I agree. He does look very romance novel cover-like. Plus if he pulls it back, he’ll look like Alpha Carl who had much better hair.”

“I’m going to start calling you Fabio,” Elle added.

“Sorry,” Splash Zone said again. He sat on the counter eating a bowl of pea soup chowder.

His spell had failed when he tried to prepare it because it was, technically, an offensive spell. As a mercenary, it didn’t even let him try to cast it in the safe room. I’d had to run to the shower and wash it off. The tonic increased the total hair length based on how long it was on your head, and I didn’t dare use my hands to wash it off. I came out of the shower with long, wavy, shining hair that went all the way down to my waist. I immediately cut it, and it grew right back.

I sighed and took a handful of hair ties from Britney. She helped me tie it back as Donut went through the room and touched everyone in turn, making them officers in the army. We had to set up the officer hierarchy ourselves, and Donut had allowed Florin to set it up after giving him the rank War Leader III, which had changed to Colonel after he’d spent some time examining the base system. After some more tinkering, and Donut bitching at him to upgrade himself, the Colonel changed to simply General. Most everyone in the core group got the same rank.

Zhang and a few of his fellow party members came in and got their ranks, but Li Jun and Li Na hadn’t come in, as they were seeking out a healer who might be able to regrow Li Jun’s eye. We wouldn’t be able to physically touch Li Na anyway, so we weren’t sure how we were going to deal with that yet.

Everyone with the rank of General was allowed to recruit others and give them officer ranks lower than themselves. It also allowed them to command large, separate groups of troops. The strippers were all getting Sergeant First Class, which would allow them to recruit and command the base troops, such as the Sluggalos, which were now called Legionnaires. Florin had actually named the Sergeant rank “Adjutant” at first, but we made him change it because it would be confusing with the existing Adjutant class.

Florin along with Imani and Elle, as soon as they were done laughing at me, were going to leave right away. They would leave the city and head straight to the headquarters where they’d meet up with our adjutant and start the process of preparing the headquarters. Florin and Imani would stay and get to work while Elle went on a recon mission for us. Once they were set up there, we could use the doggie door upgrade to fast travel from the city to the headquarters. In the meantime, we already installed the doggie door upgrade in our room along with Katia’s.

We had so much to do. We had to find some mobs so I could train Sir Rendlegore as soon as possible. Supposedly pet training was accelerated. We needed to recruit, recruit, recruit. I needed to actually look at what had changed for the rules. We needed to seek out and find Juice Box so we could talk. We needed to scout the enemy positions and troop strengths. We needed to pool our money and purchase as many tier III upgrades as we could. And all of that was before we focused on our most vital task. Destroy the naga team as quickly and as thoroughly as possible.

I took a deep breath. It was a lot, but I was glad we were finally starting to allocate some of the responsibilities. I was especially glad for Florin, who’d fallen right into the position of General.

I’d also given Katia access to my automaton table, and she was working on it right now, building something for Tran to use now that his wheelchair was gone. But she had bigger plans than just that. We were going to need vehicles, and she was getting the ball rolling on that.

“There,” Britney said, smoothing my ponytail down. I was finally used to looking at the horrific burn down the side of her face. It fit her hard visage. “It looks good. Keep it tucked in or monsters will grab it, believe me.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said, reaching back to touch it. My temples felt tight, like my eyes were being pulled apart. I’d never had hair this long before. Sir Rendlegore was curled up at my feet, snoring loudly.

I turned to Louis. He had a unique rank, different than the others. Army Air General.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go take a look at this new toy of yours.”

~~~

Hey all! I hope you’re doing well. I’m still not certain where I’m going to place these cookbook author interludes or how to space them out, but it’s probably clear what I’m doing with them by now. I do not plan on finishing all of them in this book, and I will have to time some of them properly for the most impact, and that’s not something I can really do until I’m done with this book.

I have a few show things coming up, including a few PNW additions.

August 11 Authors and Dragons Con, Portland Oregon. This is a small con for the Authors and Dragon podcast. Jeff Hays will be here also, along with Drew Hayes, Robert Bevans, Arctus, and others.

August 25 Planet Funk Con, Davenport Iowa. This is a slightly-bigger, more traditional con. We are having a party at this one on Saturday night after the main con closes with a Q&A and a Jeff reading plus a super sneak preview of the audiobook. James Osiris Baldwin of Archemi Online will be there, too.

August 31 DragonCon. Atlanta, Georgia. This is the big one. Multiple parties and readings and panels (in theory! I haven’t actually heard anything yet), including a big get together on Sunday for loads of, literally dozens of, litrpg authors. Shirtaloon will be here, though I haven’t talked him into coming to any of the parties yet.

September 16 at 1 PM in Monroe, WA I will be doing a signing at We Be Book’n bookstore.

September 21-23, I will be speaking at the PNWA writing conference in Seatac WA. I will miss the last day (the 24th) but will be there the rest of the time.

After that, nothing too official. I’ll be at the Powertrip music festival in October. Oh, and ProgPower immediately after DragonCon if anyone wants to hang out. After that, I will be at the 20Books Conference (another writing conference) in Vegas in November.

Again, thanks so much for your support. I’m looking forward to getting to the chaos of this new book.