The traffic check was a mile ahead, in a valley, after a slow curve to the right. Rowan’s enhanced eyes could see even the small details from his higher position. Two chubby silhouettes, a cardboard box on the police car’s hood: he was witnessing a donut break. Cops, even post-apocalyptic ones, remained cops. Rowan stepped on the gas and increased the speed, reaching a hundred and fifty miles per hour just before the roadblock. Hearing the infernal noise, one of the cops fumbled for his gun while the second ducked into a ditch, not before shoving the last piece of donut in his mouth.

  Joint Trip: Warp activated. 3/10 stacks remaining.

  The newly discovered application of Rowan’s Perk transformed the world into a gray painting. The car glided effortlessly over the road and desert, doubling its speed. Twenty-five seconds later, Rowan exited the in-between, the car reappearing a few miles farther on an empty highway. He slowed down and knocked on Cora’s head with his knuckles. Gentler ways had previously proved useless; she slept like a log.

  “Mhmmm…” she growled.

  “We’re near Las Vegas.”

  “Mhmmm….” Cora grunted again, nodded, and stretched, simultaneously a girly or catlike gesture. “Go slower, I need to feel the moment…”

  Two miles later, she grabbed his arm. “Stop! We’ve entered the Dungeon. This is the rendezvous point they e-mailed me about.”

  Fortunately, there was no traffic, and Rowan hit the brakes, parking on the emergency lane. He turned his head to the right and left and even checked the rearview mirror. There was nothing around resembling a Dungeon, no notification, nothing. Only arid rocks, sparse withered greenery in dire need of water therapy, and some lights in the distance, a gas station.

  “You’re sure?” Rowan asked.

  Shrugging, Cora showed him the large compass she held in hand. “Pretty much. Estimated distance to the Lair: twenty-five miles. Estimated number of floors: twenty. Level: one hundred. The whole city must be a dungeon.”

  “But you said you can’t detect dungeons.”

  “From far away. Things change once I’m close or inside.”

  “Any monsters around?”

  “No, but this is an entertainment dungeon. My guess is they expanded this much to make it indistinguishable from the real world, sacrificing the Mana field’s density. Keep your eyes open. We shouldn’t trust interlopers.”

  "Don't worry, they attack us, they're dead." Rowan showed her a jackknife hidden in his boot.

  "You're going to fight Vampires with a jackknife?" Cora snorted.

  “Trust me, I have my ways. Look! We have company.”

  Ahead, a police motorcycle approached fast, ridden by a policewoman dressed in a tight leather suit. She slowed, turned, and raised her visor. There was the blonde Vampire Rowan had already met twice.

  The woman beckoned them to follow and opened the way. For a while, there was no traffic to speak of, then the lights of the city appeared in the distance, and with it, vehicles going in or leaving. The motorcycle started its siren and lights, and cars got away from their path. As far as Rowan could tell, everything looked normal. He had visited Vegas only once, for Jim’s, his former boss, bachelor party. Impressed by the shiny large buildings, Cora was wow-ing in awe every other second.

  Five minutes after reaching the town’s center, their escort approached a humongous Casino built like a Disney Castle. That one, Rowan could swear, was a novelty. Entering through a side access, they descended into a subterranean garage. The Vampire showed them where to park, left her motorcycle behind, and walked toward a concrete wall, which slid sideways after she pushed a button, revealing a bluish light, a sort of portal.

  Cora put a hand on Rowan’s chest, stopping him a second before stepping onward. She flickered her wrist, and her bracelet melted and fell on the concrete floor, then grew into her suit. The armor buzzed and took an at-attention position. “My jackknife,” Cora said smugly.

  “Show off,” Rowan creased his nose.

  “Follow me,” the Vampire said, passing through the portal.

  You have been invited to the Dungeon Boss’s Lair: Guest status.

  The next room was huge. Red lights, red velvet, gold cushions, low gambling or drinking tables, lascivious maids walking around and taking orders. An old-style Victorian place of spiritual and bodily ruin, if any.

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  “Hurry, we don’t have much time.” The blonde pulled Rowan by the arm toward a carved wooden door in the back of the room and showed them inside a lounge, taking a guarding position near the entrance, mirrored by the suit. Rowan could swear the armor was frowning at the blonde, a red light moving left and right in the visor.

  “Welcome to my abode, Count Allinder. Please, take a seat. I’m Viscardi Blackswarm.”

  A man in his late forties raised an inch from his luxurious armchair, sketching a salute. Tall, elegant, wearing sunglasses and an embroidered vest, he looked like the poster child of Buffalo Bill if the Wild West icon had Dorian Gray as his grandfather.

  “Howdy,” Rowan said, sinking into the luxurious sofa across the coffee table. Cora joined him

  “Drinks?” the host asked.

  “I’m OK,” Cora said.

  “And I’m driving,” Rowan added. “Not that the cops could catch me, but just keeping the good habits.”

  “Then I’ll get to the point, time is precious. In ten minutes, the System will expel you outside the dungeon. Non-combat is frowned upon.”

  “Isn’t this an entertainment dungeon?”

  “Combat takes many forms. To stay in the Lair longer, you must bring on a million dollars and enter a high-stakes poker game.”

  “No thanks. I’m not the gambling type.”

  “A wise choice. My story is this. For the wrong reasons—but tell that to an AI judge—my family and I were sentenced to indentured service on the Traipenent. Do you know what dungeons truly are?”

  “Err…”

  “Multi-layered pocket universes.”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, Cora told me.”

  “Some appear spontaneously, some are built, and others are a hybrid. We spent a few years on the Traipenent, then a few months ago—”

  “You organized a dungeon break,” Cora sneered, crossing her arms.

  “I did not. A group of mercenaries tried to kidnap me because their boss, The Smuggler, believed I had stolen something from her. She visited the dungeon a few months ago. Now, what person sane of mind would have pickpocketed the most dangerous mobster in the quadrant?”

  “You, Father,” the blonde Vampire said.

  “No, darling. No,” the man sulked. “You were supposed to say: no sane person would have done that. Then, my come back: But when was I ever considered sane?”

  “Don’t give up your Vampire day job; your standup comedy is not biting enough,” Rowan said. He was beginning to feel annoyed by the chasing around the tail.

  “See, Victoria? That was funny…” Viscardi clapped. “Vampire day job? Biting enough? Thank you for your feedback. I’ll keep practicing. In the end, you’ll see, I’ll perform in Vegas.”

  “That was not bad,” Rowan nodded. “I mean… it didn’t suck.”

  “Ahahahah… I get it… Vampire, suck… good pun. Back to the story. The idiots made the ship core go nuts, and monsters appeared everywhere. The Captain activated the emergency procedure and ejected everything before the ship crashed.”

  “But you survived,” Cora noted.

  “Yes. My family and I were still in the dungeon. While its outer limit was broken, it still protected us. I found myself near the core, so I took it, and we ran as far as possible. Then, I meet my true love. Vegas. I and Vegas heart emojis.”

  “Mother might disagree,” Victoria frowned.

  “But dearest, your mother is more than love to me. She’s my fate, my Darth Vader, my—"

  “Can we steer toward our business?” Cora demanded.

  “Sure, sure. Miss Shemeows, please remind us how many dungeon cores were on the Traipenent.”

  “A hundred. Half were real dungeons, and half were mini-dungeons. As far as we know, six mini-dungeons were claimed and turned into Town Cores. One is ours, then Rome, Vladivostok, Donghae in Korea, Hagi in Japan, and another I couldn’t identify or pinpoint the location.”

  “Add to that four cores that were absorbed for energy.”

  “Sorry?” Rowan asked.

  “A Core of higher or equal level can absorb other cores. Eat them, basically. ”

  “Who absorbed those four cores?” Cora rushed to ask.

  “Us. I found them on our way here. And the rest are unaccounted for. Let’s talk business. Time is short.”

  “What do you need from us?” Cora asked.

  “You, of all people, haven’t figured it out?” the Vampire Lord laughed.

  “Figure up what?” she snapped back.

  “What’s the only thing I can’t do with the core?”

  Cora shrugged, puckering her lips, evidently annoyed.

  “This is still a dungeon type, and I’m a Boss. I can control some settings but can’t beat myself and transform my dungeon into a Town’s Core.” Viscardi pointed at Rowan, “I want him to do it for me.”

  Rowan’s jaw dropped. “Why?”

  “Because an Awakened Town is the safest place to be in an Apocalypse. The deal is simple. Level up, and then we’ll have a battle, I’ll make sure you win, and then you’ll claim my dungeon’s core, transform Vegas into an Awakened Town, allowing me to rule it as your vassal. You’ll find in me a good ally.”

  “I could beat you now if you wish,” Cora said, and her armor took one step forward. The blonde woman tensed, and a rapier appeared in her hand.

  Viscardi raised his hand up in a stopping gesture. “Not so fast. It’s a question of building trust between our factions. If you attack me, I surrender and walk,” the man raised his upper lip, showing his canines.

  “Err… Why does surrendering sounds menacing?” Rowan asked.

  “Good luck organizing the few million people of my domain, dealing with at least a couple thousand mobsters, and a military base with nukes. Miss Shemeows will be voted out of her job in hours. Or worse, tin man or not,” the Vampire pointed at the armor.

  “I see your point…” Rowan looked at his watch. The time was almost up. He nodded and offered the vampire a handshake. “I’ll think about it and let you know. Maybe next time we meet, we’ll go out for a drink. Bourbon or B-positive?”

  “Ahahahaha… Alas, the time passes too fast. Take this. Consider it an advance payment. If you accept the deal, use it; if not, send it back through the interdimensional email.”

  Lord Viscardi Blacksworn is trying to transfer an Unknown Item to your inventory. Accept transfer, Y/N

  Barely a moment after accepting, Rowan and Cora found themselves twenty miles to the east in the desert, the suit alongside them.

  “Fuck… the car stayed back there…” he facepalmed.

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure Viscardi can send someone to bring it to the County,” Cora said. “For now, I’ll take care of the transportation.” The suit came forward and embraced her, and then she picked Rowan up in a princess carry and took flight. He noticed a forcefield around them, as the wind didn’t disturb him in the least.

  “You can fly?”

  “Aye, Captain Obvious,” Cora said through the speakers.

  “Why didn’t you do it before?”

  “It uses Manafuel, and I have enough only for a one-way trip home. Grab my neck for safety.”