I gnced over to where the so-called treasure chest was supposed to be, only to feel a surge of dread when it wasn’t there.

  I really hate that mimic!

  Then, the werewolf—or whatever the hell it was—turned and started hobbling away. A twinge of excitement sparked within me as thoughts of the mimic evaporated, repced by visions of dev everyone present. However, the realization of the plications with the dungeon core quickly dampened my spirits. My shoulders slumped as I followed the fleabag. I almost hesitated, mentally debating whether to wait for my future snack to catch up.

  Nah, he’s fine. I’m sure I’ll eat him ter—I mean, find him.

  Yeah—YEAH, I’ll definitely find him ter.

  I was holy shocked I got away with killing one of their own. They shrugged it off like it was just auesday. Apparently, stig to their so-called rules—whatever those might be—means smooth sailing—no fuss, no muss. This really got me thinking about how much I could bend these rules before hitting a snag. And sidering Wartie’s casual eback from the dead, it seems they’re ly uptight about the whole death thing.

  “Wele to Ockpool,” the old werewolf finally said, his gaze fixed on me as he hobbled through a shattered gate leading into what could have once been a wondrous city.

  I’m not exaggerating when I say it looked as though a hurrie had ripped through the pce, only after a nuke had gone off—twice! The area itiful sight. It was clear it had once been glorious, much like Pompeii, if you could dis any grandeur from the ruins that remained. Now, it was reduced to a desote wastend of despair aru. No, I’m not kidding. Ever seen those photos of the widespread destru across Europe after World War II? Imagihat level of devastation—well, minus France. I surrender, ee!

  Ugh, I o rein in my thoughts. This kind of rant might just attrae fk. Holy, I’d hate to have to surrender my snark and do something outndish, like apologize.

  Who does that help, really? No, never apologize—unless it’s dripping with sarcasm—and always double down... with even more sarcasm. Bwahahaha!

  Hmm… why does the idea of a baguette and a French girl sound like so much fun right now?

  As I strolled through the streets cluttered with rubble and debris, my mind wandered all over the pce, mostly indulging in something as rid tantalizing as smelly Brie—perhaps remi of an evening with a French girl?

  I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappoi. The few buildings still standing looked as if they might colpse at any moment, and the few denizens I entered, more akin to roaming monsters, appeared weak and feeble. It almost made me pity them, but that se quickly dissipated.

  These losers weren’t even worth killing—not while the system wouldn’t dish out any rewards for it. It felt like being stu limbo, surrounded by weaklings who couldn’t muster a det fight—like the French! Okay, I get it, I’ve milked that joke dry. Maybe I need a arget. Australia? Nah, they’re basically crazier Floridians—and I like crazy!

  Crikey!

  To make matters worse, the absence of a notification after killing Gapi a shitty taste in my mouth—a serious, loose disappoi. Realizing I had wasted my time pounding, Gaping to death was almost as siing as the vile taste I secretly savored—not that I’d publicly admit to relishiing ass—wait, where was I going with this?

  If this pce was merely a graveyard of feeble monsters no rewards, I o find that dungeon core, and fast.

  As we tinued walking, I could feel my internal bitess stirring.

  Bke, are you really upset that you lost your reason for itting a massacre?

  No! I’m upset that there’s no point in a massacre right now—it would be such a waste while the dungeon is down.

  Yeah, wait now, kill ter—

  Ugh! I really should see a therapist.

  Maybe Aurelia will let you—I mean, me—crawl into her p a once I’ve dealt with all of this?

  Despite my sorrow at losing what could have been a plentiful source of skills, I slunk behind this… Warchief. My movements became more natural and fluid as I navigated the rubble and cobblestones. With every step, his walking e ked against the grouing an aura of power that fshed in an array of colors, sparking both intrigue and uhi seemed that either no one else could see the mana as I could, or they were aced to it. Watg it was like heat waves distort the air around hot asphalt in summer, only with vibrant puffs of colors.

  “My apologies for our current state,” the fleabag of a Warchief said. “We’ve had a few unfortunate enters with Sethialy. Since our dungeon core was stolen, we’ve been uo rebuild.”

  Who are these Sethians?

  Hmm… If I keep the core after I steal it back, could I use it to build my own dungeon for farming skills and levels?

  “The idea of stealing a dungeon core is a revolting, bsphemous deed, and I pray the old gods will smite those responsible,” he tinued.

  Was he reading my mind?

  “Still, I ’t imagine what vile nation would it su act. The asded have no respect for the band order of any of the Moons of V?luspá. They simply take and murder anyone who opposes their ways as they please,” the werewolf paused, gng back at me with a sheepish look. “Oh, I did not mean to vent. Five this old warg. It only paio see what our enemies have doo my fellow dungeon denizens.”

  Okay, that’s a lot to unpack.

  What’s a warg?

  Did he say asded? And did he just mention the Moons of V?luspá?

  I really am on a moo I? That’s so cool!

  I o get to the surfad see this for myself.

  As my thoughts ran rampant once again, I found myself entering what could only be described as the tral pza, now a makeshift gathering pit. It was a chaotic mess of bricks, stones, and rubble piled up to form a seating area. The old werewolf—warg-thingy—settled into a particurly cozy-looking stone, his e king as he shifted his weight. Around him gathered an array of humanoid monsters: orcs, trolls, goblins, lizard denizens, I think a tiefling, and several others I couldn’t even begin to cssify—two looked like giant cockatoos with thumbs. Eae took their seat, eyeing me warily, but I didn’t care. My surprise grew when I noticed two humans in the mix, or at least they appeared human—for all I khey could be body-snatg parasites.

  I was more than ready for what I assumed to be an interrogation as I found a cozy roy own to sit upon.

  “Not there,” the old warg called out, pointing to the ter of the circle for me to stand.

  The Warchief’s gaze bore into me, analyzing my every move as I huffed my way to the ter of the pit. I could feel his thoughts f some kind of twisted clusio, I remaioic, my head held high as I felt some loose tendrils on my body twitg.

  “Boy,” the warg addressed the goblin. “Expin your enter with the Sethians. I didn’t have a ce to speak to you before the raid,” his tone was questioning and suspicious.

  There he goes again about these Sethians.

  “Yes. Yes! Muddy, my pet. He protected me,” Wartie blurted out defensively.

  “I don’t know what the fuck his little lying ass is talking about.” All eyes so me as I crossed my arms. “I’m just pissed I ’t kill all of your dumbasses for any fug skills with that goddamn dungeon issing. Seriously, I don’t even know who the fuck these Sluttians are. The only other dickwads I’ve seen with that little green shit staihe other didates or user-whatevers that the fug bloodsuckers tossed down this shithole before me.”

  A long silence dragged on until I realized something. “Wait, did I just say that out loud?” My eyes widened. “Holy shit, I fug did! I motherfug did say it aloud! Ha! Holy shit!” I smiled as my profanity flowed out of me like a bursting goddamn dam.

  Don’t judge me! I’ve got a lot of swearing to make up for.

  Surprised by my new method of speech, I reached up with semi-normal-looking hands toward my face, asto what I felt. I hadn’t really taken in my appearance since giving it to Gaping. All I had noticed until now was the absence of a mushroom top. A me tell you, as a girl, I hated having a mushroom top—wait, no, that’s called a muffin top. My bad.

  Ugh, I keep getting sidetracked with my own narrative.

  As I patted my face, I felt normal—well, as normal as you might expect for someone made out of goo and wiggling tendrils. But I had great fake boructure, as far as I could tell with little experience assessing faces by touch. I pulled my hand bad formed an eyeball within it with amazing ease and trol. Closing my two eyes, I opened my newly formed eye within my palm and took a good look at myself. I even gave myself that little Japanese schoolgirl pose with the peace sign out—you know whie.

  Anyhow, I wouldn’t say I was cute by any means… No. Not by any means whatsoever. Have you ever watched Nightmare Before Christmas? Remember the moment Oogie Boogie lost his skin, and you saw all the twitg and wiggling bugs? Yeah, now imagihat, but all oily jet bd on a skinny old hag bod with missiures.

  Well, at least I don’t have a muffin top.

  I pulled my third eye ba and gnced around at the gathering of fantasy monster people who just gazed at me as if stupefied by my words and as. I couldn’t help it; I needed a good burst of expletives after being silenced for so long. I wasn’t a good girl or anything—I was a vile, vulgar goth chick, and I’d be damned if this reality didn’t hear me roar with some motherfug swear words!

  “Hmm… I wonder if that Hopeless Crusader title helped boost all my insight, and that’s why I suddenly speak?” I grumbled quietly to myself as I tapped my lower lip, ign the hushed whispers and gasps as the gathering started murmuring, which quickly picked up in tempo until it was a loud ruckus of yelling and shouting. Apparently, mentioning something about being upset over not being able to kill all of them for skills was no-bueno.

  “Silehe Warchief bellowed, which sounded rather funny with his voice. I mean, he sort of sounded like Mike Tyson, now that I thought about it. “Let it be known that no one in Ockpool shall y a hand on the user,” he decred, his gaze shifting all around the gathering. “Wartie, if what the user said is true—”

  “Bke,” I corrected.

  “Um, yes. If what Bke said is to be believed, you have much expining to do, young goblin.”

  I took a peek to my side to find the goblin snack. Wartie nodded as he clutched his pet slime tightly to himself, trying to hide a sob as he stared down at his feet.

  “Y-yes, C-Chief. I-I may be—have mistaken. But die me and Doodles did,” Wartie stammered before adding, “What’s a user?” he asked, gng up at me with a single raised eyebrow while keeping his face pointed down.

  “Kill the sver! Free me! Or just kill me! Please! End my four-decade-long suffering!” Doodles cried out, but it appeared I was yet again the only one who could hear the slime cube’s pleas.

  The warg took a deep breath, seeming to debate whether to lecture the goblin beside me or not. After a long moment, he moved on, deg it was best to ahe goblin’s question. As for me? I was hung up on the four-decade-long remark from the slime, realizing that the goblin wasn’t a child, just an idiot—I would have used the hard R-word, but even I have my limits.

  Ah, who am I kidding? No, I don’t.

  He’s a fug retard!

  “A user, or rather, a system user, is an a and mostly fotten form of attaining power, utilizing the system of reality to form magid gain knowledge and power, much like how we attuned ourselves to the dungeon core,” he expined. “It is said it’s the very method the Asded Gods used to gain their divinity. But enough of that sort of stuff,” he added. Only then did I notice all the rapt listeners who seemed to be ied in what he was saying, as if they were just learning about system users.

  Huh, so I bee a goddess if I plete the quest.

  Hmm… Options. Options. Bee a Dark Champion or Asd? Yeah, screw those didates. I’m getting that fug core!

  “Warchief, you ’t be serious! That slimy abomination ’t possibly be on a path of assion! We should just put it out of its misery. Bck puddings are among the most unintelligent monsters. Their only usefulness is as waste and filth disposals,” a lizard man blurted out, his scaly skin rippling as he spoke.

  I could feel my pudding body starting to boil with anger. “Who the fuck are you calling unintelligent?” I snapped back, feeling my right arm morph into a tentacle as I did. “I mean, I may not be a schor or anything, but I’m pretty sure you’ll taste like chi,” I added as the lizard took a staggered step back.

  I really meant that; I was seriously w if lizard meat tasted like chi.

  Bke, stop it.

  It’s not like I take on all of them at once… I?

  The old warg let out a low groihe bridge of his muzzle as he spoke, sileng the lizard’s tirade. “Enough, Redtail! Well, Bke, clearly, you’ve got a sense of humor,” he chuckled as if I hadn’t meant what I had just said, which I totally did—lizard sounded delicious!

  Maybe he was trying to py it off for me or something. You know, lesseension. “My apologies if Drake Redtail offended you. We don’t ofte users down here—at least not siny of us migrated here after Nyxoria joihe Moons of V?luspá.”

  “Nyxoria?” I muttered.

  “Ah, yes. That’s the name of this moon, did you not know?” he replied, seeming rather fused as he stroked his long beard as if p something.

  “I see,” I nodded before asking, “and what do you mean, Nyxoria joihe Moons of V?luspá?”

  The beard stroking stopped as he stared at me.

  “All of the known Moons of V?luspá aren’t from this reality. All of our home worlds were stolen, ripped to this reality overflowing with magic. How do you not know this?” he barely whispered that st part.

  “Ah, where are my manners?” he quickly blurted out as if to ge the subject. “I am Warchief Hensley of Ockpool, and all those within this decimated dungeon city are under my prote, as you may have already guessed. Now, to the matter at hand, user. My question is simple: will you retrieve the dungeon core aurn it to us, user Bke?”

  For you? Absolutely not!

  “Sure,” I happily nodded.

  I’ll be doing it for myself, or rather, for that fat-ass quest reward.

  “Perfect,” Warchief Hensley cpped, capturing everyone’s attention, before the hushed whispering turned into another shouting match.

  “Redtail, why don’t you escort our friend,” he suggested, his tone firm yet unmistakably somber. Though difficult to dis through his muzzle, I could swear the old warg’s expression darkened momentarily as he addressed the lizard.

  “You ’t be serious,” Redtail hissed back, incredulity g his voice. “That abomination ’t possibly be a system user of legend. It must be some demonic trick!”

  The chief’s response was a low growl. “Our friend here is indeed a user. There’s no trickery at py.”

  “Umm, I hate to interrupt,” I really didn’t, “but do you have any more information about system users?”

  The old warg shifted his gre from the lizard man to me, then resumed stroking his beard, seemingly p how to respond.

  “Ah, Bke, you must be a newly acquired user. Are you, perhaps, a Champion?”

  At his words, I noticed the gathering tensed, anger simmering in their stares directed at me.

  I shrugged, “I’m supposedly a didate to be some e’s Champion, though I never heard of her before,” I holy stated. What was the worst they could do to me without their dungeon core? Turn into sloppy, pus-covered meat, like Gaping?

  “I see,” the warg exhaled slowly, and everyone seemed to rex slightly. “Sadly, not much is known about system users other than they are tied to the Asded Gods and their Champions. And that is about all that is known. They are a means to gain magid power, and with all great power es great challenges.”

  “Wait, was that a parody of a Spider-Man quote?”

  “What does that mean?” a voice squeaked from the still-growing crowd.

  I turowards the interruption’s source, spotting a spider-looking man among them.

  “Never mind,” I shrugged at Spider-Man, unsure what to take from that awkward moment.

  “If you’ll truly retrieve the dungeon core for us, user,” Warchief Hensley tinued, smoothly bypassing the straerruption, “then you should embark nrettably, the fastest route is through the dungeon itself. Fortunately, most monsters have perished without the core’s influence, but the dungeon bosses might still lurk within their domains. If the Sethian raiders didn’t take the same path, you’ll likely enter them as you navigate towards the exit. As I have already mentioned, Redtail will guide you.”

  “I have never agreed to this insanity,” Redtail bellowed.

  I smiled at the thought of entering a dungeon boss or three—how often does a girl get an escort out of the dungeon by a walking-snarky-chi-dinner? My biggest grin came from the thought of all the levels and skills I could gain from the dungeon bosses. The admin note did say I could still get those from the bosses. My only hiccup was if the vampires interfered with my escape. Although, they might be too busy if that fiery cave-in was any indication.

  “I hope Aurelia’s okay,” I mumbled. “I really want to see her again—after I’m a goddess!” I o myself, a manic grin spreading ay face. “Yeah, I’m cool with that. Always gain the high ground in aionship, I always say…” I frowned abruptly. “When has any of my retionships ever worked out? I don’t want to talk about it.”

  My eyes darted around, catg all the staring gazes locked on me as I tinued grumbling. “Fuck! I’m talking to myself again! Well, at least I didn’t say the chi dinner part aloud…”

  The murmurs arouensified, but I just shrugged it off, the smile returning as quickly as it had faded. I hummed a little friendly neighborhood web-sliuapping my still-formed tentacle arm against my thigh—or ankle—in a rhythm only I could hear.

  “So! When … we... go…” My voice trailed off as I spotted a treasure chest with a purple, furry-looking dude perched on top of it. Though he didn’t much matter as I eyed that evil chest.

  “I think it would be best to depart as soon as possible,” the warg stated, while my lizard—meals-on-tail—escort began hissing a string of slurs and curses.

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