Babel was emptier than I expected, though considering the hour, it made sense. Most people were trudging in the dungeon at this time. Sadly, this giant tower didn't come with detailed maps like the average mall back home, so I had to ask around a little for directions.
Getting equipment before visiting the Guild was the winning move. First impressions mattered a great deal, especially when I needed those cool points.
My nose crinkled at the smell of smoke and burning metal, mixed with other acrid scents and sweat as I made my way through one of the "newbie floors", as nicknamed by the locals.
It was the best place for a level one to buy some cheap but serviceable gear crafted by the apprentice and low level smiths. Or, in other words, the dumping ground for any "vendor trash" items from people leveling their crafting.
Various shops lined the hallway on both sides, some of them even doubling as actual smithies, where people hammered at metal on anvils like it owed them money. The cacophony of loud noises rattled my bones as I quickly passed by, my ears ringing in protest. Living anywhere near a blacksmith district would've probably been hell.
Once most of the noise faded in the distance, I stopped in front of the nearest shop, left hand brushing my hip, feeling the firm, reassuring bulge beneath the fabric of my pants. Pickpockets were a real danger here, so I'd rather not take any chances and just keep my money out of sight.
My gaze flickered to my reflection in the glass, taking in the bald head, the short, black beard, and the somewhat thin frame. Having hair was a pain when showers were not commonplace, but luckily, I could afford a barber before leaving Melen. Now I only had to buy a razor to take care of my beard.
A grizzled, stout dwarf sat behind the counter, reading a worn book, only sparing me a brief glance as I stepped inside.
Wooden racks lined the walls, holding on display murder implements of varying sizes and form. A bunch of crates lay around the shop, some of them chock full of more weapons, while the rest housed random pieces of armor.
My eyes drifted to the large rack on the wall next to the counter, taking in the assortment of polished, one-handed swords. A good weapon despite the high learning curve, but not for me. Too basic bitch. Everybody and their grandma used swords, and I needed to stand out among the crowd.
A smaller rack stood next to the sword one, showing a bunch of fancy looking rapiers. I promptly ignored it. Rapiers were fake and gay. I had no idea why this affront to weapons even existed in this world. If you wanted to poke something to death, just get a spear.
An axe rack on the left, taking up half of the wall, caught my eye for a few moments, but I kept searching around. Axes were okay, but I felt like I could do better. I spent a minute looking around, reaching the back of the shop, only to pause, a smile growing on my face at the weapons on display.
Finally, some good shit.
Maces. A dozen of them. Flat. Crested. Spiky. All types of maces. Strong. Reliable. Only needing minimal maintenance. Just like a real man.
I grabbed the nearest mace, testing its weight in my dominant hand. Too much for the old me to swing around in a fight, but the Falna did its magic, even at zero stats. I was already superhuman compared to the normies back home.
The mace weighted less than a monkey wrench as I gave it a few test swings with one hand. Smiling in anticipation, I placed the weapon back on the rack and reached for a morning-star with a haft as long as my arm and nearly half as thick. Those spikes brought a delicious, extra "fuck you" flavor to the table.
My hand froze on the handle as I caught sight of something inside a nearby wooden crate. It looked like a pair of weird, one sided, metal wrist-guards, but as I picked one up, I saw the spikes on the back, right above the knuckles.
My eyes widened a fraction.
This…
Jaw going slack, I stared at the fist weapon, as if struck by epiphany.
…could totally work.
A smile slowly crept up my face as I slipped the half gauntlet on my hand, fastening the leather straps. I flexed my fingers into a fist, gaze lingering on the spiky knuckles as my lips pulled into a grin.
I've been such a fool… searching for an answer that lay before my eyes since the very beginning.
A wave of excitement washed over me as a shiver trailed down my spine, leaving me abuzz. I clenched my fist a few more times, enjoying the feel of cool metal shifting on my skin.
The true weapon had been these hands all along.
Taking off the medieval brass knuckles, I grabbed the other one from the crate as the image of a topless wall of muscles with a pair of spiky knuckles came to mind, leaving me with a grin. Yeah. I could be like Armstrong, and just punch my way through the dungeon. That guy was cool as fuck. I just had to put on a few more kilograms of pure muscle. I could even become a full fledged muscle wizard later on.
Anticipation churned in my gut at the thought.
Even at high level, those super speshul weapons could break to something dumb like acid, but these hands would never fail me. And even if they broke, powering through the pain to crack skulls would just bring me one step closer to the Greatest Cool.
I couldn't see any price tag on these bad boys, though. I could only hope they weren't too expensive.
My eyes lingered on a nearby rack full of war-hammers, lips pursing in thought. The next coolest thing after these hands. A glimpse at the price tags left me with a frown, though. The cheapest one was five thousand valis. I should buy one when I had more money. Just in case that throwing hands might not cut it at some point.
The best part, though? A hammer would let me abuse the hell out of my late game stats. I'd pay good money to watch someone like Ottar make pancakes with a pair of giant hammers.
A smile quirked my lips as a few images flashed in my mind's eye. Swinging around a huge, semi-indestructible slab of metal, with "fuck you" levels of force to crush hopes and smash skulls would be awesome.
A shelf full of daggers and knives caught my attention as I made my way back to the front of the shop, and I slowed down, brow creasing as I scanned the prices.
Four thousand valis for a fucking dagger…
Complete rip-off, no matter how you sliced it, but daggers could come in handy, especially the throwing sort. I'd have to put aside money for a set as soon as possible.
Shanking something was just on par with the normal course of nature and a simple matter of time in a world like this. Especially in the dungeon, where life could always surprise you with a dash of premeditated murder.
Luckily, some of the knives on display went as low as a thousand valis. Still enough to feed a person for a week, if they only ate hashbrowns, but much less of a blatant rip-off.
Picking one of the cheap knives, I flipped it around in my hand, inspecting the blade. It was polished, even, and looked sharp, which meant good enough for carving out magic crystals.
Smiling at the weapons secured in my hands, I browsed around the armor crates, hoping to find something affordable. After ten minutes of frowning at this overpriced shit on display, I settled for a simple breastplate, enough to cover the vital places that would get me killed in one shot.
Full armor sounded tempting in the long run, but it would hinder me from training my Endurance stat. No pain, no gain.
A glance at the price tag had me grinding my teeth. Four thousand valis for a piece of metal. I'd wanted to grab a helmet, too, but the cheapest one I could find bordered on three thousand, and I needed money to buy other stuff, like a backpack and a bunch of smaller bags.
Sending one last glance around the shop, I made my way to the old dwarf, gear in my hands.
The shopkeeper glanced up as I approached, setting aside his book. His mouth twitched ever so slightly behind his dark, bushy beard as I deposited my gear on the countertop. His eyes lingered on the metal knuckles, and I saw another twitch behind his beard before he met my gaze.
"Odd choice fer a weapon. That thing's been collecting dust for the past few months. Ye can have it for two thousand."
The surprisingly reasonable price gave me pause, but I covered it with a smile, pulling out my coin pouch. "Thank you. I'll make sure to put it to good use."
The dwarf snorted at my comment. "Try not to die, lad. The dungeon will try to eat ye alive at first chance." His face took on a grimmer look. "My advice? Get yerself a good weapon as soon as ye can."
A good weapon, huh? I couldn't wait to show off these hands.
"I'll come back for a war-hammer when I get the money." Backup weapon aside, a big slab of metal should help me build up that Strength a little faster while still level one.
"A war-hammer, ey?" The shopkeeper grinned. "Good choice. Won't break on ye in a tough fight and won't dull anytime soon. Might save yer life."
I smiled back at him, nodding. "Yeah. I like not dying and not being poor." That got a short chuckle out of the grizzled dwarf.
"One thousand fer the knife, four thousand fer the chest plate. That's seven thousand total."
My purse deflated considerably as I pulled out a handful of coins and began counting them. Weird-ass currency. A week living here, and I still haven't gotten used to it.
Once I was done paying, I realized this place had no bags I could buy to carry my shit, so I grabbed the breastplate, fumbling a bit as I tried to put it on, much to the dwarf's amusement.
Slipping on my fist gauntlets, I grabbed my knife and hooked it awkwardly under the hem of my pants before looking up at the shopkeeper.
"Have a nice day."
The dwarf gave me a nod in return, and I left the smith shop with a grim smile. It was time for the dreaded bureaucracy.
__________________________________________
I stepped inside the Guild hall, adjusting my leather backpack a little. I'd stopped on my way out of Babel at a "dungeon essentials" shop and grabbed myself a backpack, a thigh strap sheath for my knife, and a small belt bag, hidden underneath my shirt, to hold my leftover money. Two thousand valis.
The lobby looked similar to what I remembered from the anime, except it was a lot bigger and had hallways to each side, leading deeper inside the building.
A closed off section to the left marked the magic stone exchange post, though it was devoid of activity at this hour. The polished wood counter spanning the right side of the hall had three people manning it, and a few others seated at tables in the back, doing some paperwork, all of them wearing the Guild uniform. A white dress shirt beneath a black vest, and a pair of matching pants.
It conflicted a little with the whole medieval vibe of this place, but women in suits looked pretty hot, so I wasn't going to complain. A shame how that redhead werewolf woman didn't seem to be around here at the moment. A stern, professional, redhead milf in a dark suit? I could've used that eye candy before throwing myself in the murder pit.
Speaking of eye candy, though…
The brown haired girl to the far right drew my attention as she talked to a teenage cat boy, and one look at her glasses and pointy ears made her identity clear to me. Eina, the half elf chick who nagged on Bell like a turbo helicopter mom.
She was cute, but her personality was kinda meh. Six out of ten, might smash, just to say I fucked an elf.
The spot right next to the walled off section was occupied by some middle aged dude, who looked completely dead inside while filling some paperwork with all the grace of a robot. Part of me would feel bad for disturbing him, because no way in hell would I willingly go to Eina.
Luckily for me, though, right between these two epitomes of neuroses, sat a cute, fun-sized, pink haired girl, writing something into a large book with an utter lack of enthusiasm.
The choice was obvious.
I made a beeline straight for the shortstack. Misha, if I remembered right.
Her crisp uniform hid it well, but I'd seen her art from that mobile game, and she was hiding a nice pair of puppies beneath that black vest. She was also leagues above Eina in terms of personality.
I walked up to Misha's desk, lips quirked in a small, friendly smile.
"Hello, miss."
She looked up from her book, a textbook customer service smile plastered on her face, which did not reach anywhere near her eyes. Eight out of ten, this job was going to eat her soul over the next decade.
"Good morning, sir." Even her voice was cute. "How can the Guild assist you today?" I wondered if she could keep up this customer friendly act for the whole day, or if she just stopped caring halfway through.
"I'd like to register as an adventurer."
Placing her quill back in its support, the girl gave me a curious look, eyes flicking to my chest and hands. "Of course. One moment, please."
She reached beneath the counter, rummaging for a while, before retrieving a piece of paper and placing it in front of me. I skimmed through the page, trying to hold back a frown as Misha dipped her quill in ink before handing it to me.
Thank god I've been practicing this rip-off English alphabet during the past week. I knew most of the letters, and the rest I could deduce from the text on the page.
My lips thinned a little, masking a grimace. I felt like I was back in university, trying to wing an exam where I'd only studied for two days and barely managed to cover the whole material once.
It took me a few minutes to fill out the form, even though it only had a handful of empty fields. I tried to play it off as deliberately taking my time for better calligraphy, but I wasn't sure if it worked. Hopefully, Misha didn't think I was retarded.
I handed over both the quill and paper, getting an amused look from the girl. She skimmed though the form, lips quirking the tiniest bit. "I didn't expect to see anyone aside from elves to care so much about calligraphy."
I gestured vaguely with my hand, an easy-going smile on my face. "I don't, but I figured you'd appreciate a longer break."
Misha eyed me for a long moment before huffing in amusement, her smile growing a little wider. Nice. She bought it. "Was it that obvious?"
"You looked ready to set that book on fire with your eyes." I grinned, drawing a quiet snort from the girl.
Eyes narrowing, she put a hand to her mouth, whispering conspiratorially. "You saw nothing."
"Of course. You're a diligent girl doing her work impeccably."
"Exactly." Misha nodded sagely, mouth twitching as if trying to hold back a laugh. She placed the form on her desk, propping her hands on the countertop and leaning forward a little. My eyes briefly flickered downwards, but her vest was too thick to show much beyond a vague outline of her chest.
"Your Familia has all the paperwork up to date, so you're officially registered." A small, playful smile pulled at her lips. She might've noticed my wandering gaze, but she clearly didn't seem to mind it. "Would you like to pick a personal advisor? It's not mandatory, but the Guild strongly recommends that you do."
I nodded along at her suggestion. "Having an advisor sounds like a good idea."
Like, what kind of idiot turned down free advice for the murder pit?
Judging by the slight rising of her brow, she wasn't sure whether I'd pick one or not. I had a feeling that she dealt with way too many morons on a daily basis. No wonder this adventurer job had such a high turnover rate.
"Any preference? Gender, race, stuff like that." Kinda wild how they offered choice on that criteria, but with all these weirdo gods involved, I really shouldn't be surprised.
Misha quirked an eyebrow, waiting for my answer, but the choice was obvious, really. A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"How about a fun girl with pink hair and a mischievous smile?"
She blinked, eyes widening a fraction as she took a moment to adjust to my bluntness before an impish smile pulled at her lips. "Oh? You want me?" Her voice took on a teasing note at the end, sending a shiver up my spine.
My smirk widened. Challenge accepted.
"First impressions are important, and I liked what I saw."
"Really?" Misha leaned forward a little further over the countertop, arms pushing her bust to fill out her vest, the tempting swell drawing my eyes like a moth to the flame.
I nodded, gaze shifting to Eina, before meeting a pair of cerise eyes glittering with mischief. She was good, but I'd win. "No offense to your colleagues, but long winded lectures tire me out something fierce, and the guy on the left doesn't seem particularly fun."
The pink haired tease cocked an eyebrow, a half grin pulling at her soft lips. "We have other advisors available, you know?"
I matched that with a teasing grin of my own, leaning closer ever so slightly, my voice turning playful, but with a smoky undertone. "I'm sure you do, but they're not here, and I want you."
Misha went silent, her eyes veering away for a moment, and a brief glance at her ears showed a faint reddening at the tips. A giddy feeling bloomed in my chest, and I tried to keep the smug from showing too much on my face. Flirting was like a dance. Both partners had to be good at it to make it fun.
"Well, if you put it like that…"
The girl leaned back, smoothing some crinkles in her uniform while glancing down at some papers on her desk. She tried to play it cool, meeting my gaze with a confident smile, but the slight dusting on her cheeks betrayed her act.
"It seems you're in luck, mister. I just happen to have a couple spots open on my roster."
Cute.
Misha clapped her hands softly, the blush on her face subsiding. "Anyway, since I'm going to be your advisor, I'd better introduce myself. I'm Misha Flott. Feel free to call me Misha."
I held out my hand, smiling. "I'm Jacob Brewer." Even though she probably knew my name already from that form, it was only polite to match her introduction. "Call me Jack."
She mirrored the gesture, and we shook hands, her eyes drifting to my breastplate. "I see you already have some equipment, but are you interested in buying a guild standard sword? You can take it as a loan and pay it over time."
Oh? Did she think I was unarmed?
"No, thank you." I shook my head. Loans sucked. "I already have man's oldest weapon." Smirking, I raised a hand, fingers splayed out, before clenching into a fist. "These hands."
Misha gave me an odd look, her brow creasing ever so slightly. "Don't underestimate the dungeon. People die in there almost everyday, you know?"
And the dragon would kill us all without someone strong enough to defeat it, anyway. The timeline was probably fucked, and I might be the only one able to save the day at this point. I had to become the strongest. To save the world, and get all the amazons.
"I won't. I'll buy a weapon when I'll need one." And when I stopped being broke.
A quiet sigh escaped Misha as she shook her head in something akin to exasperation. "Just don't be reckless, okay?"
Not making any promises on that one, sorry. A real adventurer must be bold.
"I'll pick my battles, but the Falna needs adventure to grow, and I won't deny it."
It was do or die in this world, after all.
Misha fixed me with a textbook deadpan, though I caught a brief twitch at the corner of her mouth, which soon became a half smile. Her eyes briefly darted to Eina as she kept talking to that same cat boy at one of the guest tables on the far right.
"You're lucky that I took you instead of Eina." A playful note tinged her voice. "She would've gone on a half an hour lecture just for that."
I met her teasing with a knowing smile. "I'd say it was part luck and part my irresistible charm."
Misha gave a quiet snort, eyes glittering with amusement. "Humble, too."
"An adventurer must be bold." Humility did not impress the gods. Nor amazons.
"But not too bold." Misha added with a smirk.
An amused puff of air escaped through my nose. I haven't had this much fun since back home, with the internet. "Is that official advice, or personal opinion?"
Misha arched a dainty eyebrow. "What do you think?"
"I think it's all about experience." I said, holding her gaze with a confident smile. "An adventurer learns when to be bold, and when to be less bold."
She nodded sagely. "You seem to have a pretty good idea about it."
"I'm sure you would've made it clear if you found me lacking in that regard."
I was walking a fine line here, but that only made it more exciting.
Misha let out an amused hum. "Well, you're not wrong," she said, an airy note in her tone, before the corner of her mouth quirked up a little. "It's part of my job, after all."
"It's good to see I have such an attentive advisor. I knew I made the right choice."
"Really?" Misha's voice turned impish, a teasing smile crossing her lips. "Are you that glad to have me as your advisor?"
Going for another round, was she?
"You're a fun girl. I'm surprised you still had those spots open in your roster."
Taking my compliment in stride, Misha gestured vaguely with her hand. "Most adventurers tend to forgo the advisor, and when I get someone, it's often because the others already have their hands full." Smile widening, she leaned in, hand next to her mouth and voice lowering to a playful whisper. "But that's because I try to pass the adventurers to my coworkers first, so I don't have to do extra work."
That got an amused huff out of me. I could perfectly sympathize with that particular desire.
"You say that now, but I think you have a great opportunity here."
"Oh?" Her eyes gleamed with curiosity, a sentiment mirrored by her voice. "How so?"
I grinned. "You'll get to advise the guy who, one day, will surpass The King." That title would be mine, soon enough. I just had to reach level eight and conquer paradise first.
A quiet snort escaped Misha. "You certainly dream big, don't you?"
I met her amused look with utmost confidence. "It's only a dream until I make it reality."
The way her brow rose up a fraction while she kept looking at me with an uncertain smile made it clear that she didn't seem to believe me, but that was fine. I'd let my actions speak for myself.
"Alright, mister confident, how about I brief you on the first two floors, so you can actually enter the dungeon?"
I shook my head, smiling politely. "No need, I already know about those. Midgets and dogs. Easy stuff."
"Oh really?" Misha arched a dainty, skeptical eyebrow. "What are the attack patterns of goblins and kobolds?"
Hmm. Double down or apologize?
My lips twitched in amusement. Silly question.
"Goblins aren't particularly dangerous, individually, but can quickly overwhelm new adventurers in larger groups. They're normally easy to deal with, but shouldn't be underestimated when in greater numbers."
These guys were easy enough to figure out just by applying the average fantasy meta-knowledge. Half of this stuff was inspired from D&D anyway.
Misha's gaze narrowed a fraction, but it did nothing to dissuade me. It was actually a little hot.
"Kobolds are a little smarter, but not by much. They can roam around in small packs, so when you see one, you should always expect more." It made sense. They were dogs at their core. "As for attack patterns, they tend to lunge and flank."
A brief silence fell between us, with Misha just staring at me, eyebrows raised ever so slightly. Just before the quiet could turn awkward, she gave an appraising, drawn out hum. "Well, you weren't lying." Ha. Nailed it. "You're good for the first couple floors."
A cheeky smile pulled at my lips. "Don't worry, I'll come to you for advice when I get to the third floor."
Misha smirked. "In a couple weeks, then?"
"Nah, in a couple days."
I watched Misha in amusement, expecting another quiet snort or huff, but her lips curled in a frown.
"Don't be reckless trying to impress me or some other girl." Her tone took on a chiding note as she fixed me with a serious look. "I've seen too many adventurers die to overconfidence."
I held back a grimace. Yeah, I might've gone a bit too far on that one. From her perspective, she had every reason to react like that. I was just a fresh level one acting like some hot shit. She knew nothing about the Rule of Cool.
Even I wasn't exactly sure how my Skill worked yet, but the description made it clear that I could probably bend the world over my knee to some extent.
Still, she was wrong about one thing.
I smiled, despite Misha's light glare. "I'm not going to the dungeon to impress girls." My voice rose a little as passion leaked into my words. "I'm going in there to impress the gods and become the strongest. Impressing girls is just a welcome addition."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Eina glaring our way, but I ignored her. What was her problem anyway? This wasn't a library, and I still kept my indoors voice.
Misha's jaw worked for a few moments, mouth opening and falling shut, as if unsure of how to react to my bold proclamation. She was probably overthinking things. I was just being honest here.
As my advisor, she'd have to get used to this. The path to the Greatest Cool would not be paved on deceit.
"Jack, that wasn't my point, you–"
Just as Misha finally regained her voice, a good-natured chuckle coming from the left interrupted her and caught my attention. "Well said, young man. You have a fire burning in you, I can tell."
A tanned, well-built man with short cropped, dark hair and stubble on his face approached us, the tall, black shield on his arm and matching cuirass gleaming as they caught the light. The edge of a large axe peeked over his shoulders as he stopped an arm's length from the counter, mouth quirked in a friendly smile.
I didn't remember seeing this guy in the anime. His gear looked pretty expensive. He had to be at least level three.
"Thanks, mister…?" I trailed off as the man gave me an appraising look.
"Hashana, from the Ganesha Familia."
He held out a hand, and I grasped it. Thankfully, there was no stupid dick measuring involved as he seemed mindful of his strength, just giving a firm shake. This guy seemed pretty cool so far.
Still had no idea who he was, though.
"I'm Jack. Miach Familia." I introduced myself with a polite smile, eyes briefly flicking to a curious looking Misha. Was she his advisor, too?
A thoughtful look crossed Hashana's face. "I think I've heard some of our level ones talking about buying from there lately."
Nice. Free advertisement.
I blinked, a stray thought hitting me like a brick. Shit. I had to convince Naaza to stop cutting her potions with spices, or whatever the fuck she put in them.
"I'm learning the craft, too. I'm hoping to come up with new recipes in the future."
It wasn't shameless shilling if you didn't feel any shame about it.
"Good luck with that, rookie." Hashana chuckled.
"Is there something you need, sir?" Misha spoke up, back in customer service mode, drawing the man's attention.
"Just came by to ask Eina something." Ah, so he was Eina's. Poor guy.
Misha's gaze briefly went to her coworker. "Should I let her know?"
"No need." Hashana shook his head, smiling as he gave me a knowing look for some reason. "It's good to see new blood with such passion. Don't lose that fire and don't get yourself killed. This city needs strong people to protect it."
I blinked, staring at him for a moment, not sure how to respond to that, before I just settled for a nod. "Thanks. I'll do my best."
"That's the spirit."
Grinning, Hashana gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder, his hand feeling like a piece of lead. I watched as he walked past, approaching Eina and interrupting her lecture, much to the cat boy's relief, asking something about quests on the lower floors.
So, definitely at least level three.
Still, what a cool guy. If Ganesha had more people like this, I wouldn't mind partying up with them once I caught up.
Looking back at Misha, I met her gaze with a smirk. "Interesting fellow."
The girl sighed, a complicated smile on her face. "You could say that."
"Too much Ganesha?"
A snort escaped her. "Some people in his Familia are starting to act like him. It gets a little tiring after a while."
I stared at her, mouth twitching with suppressed laughter. Oh, that was hilarious.
"At least they're not wearing elephant masks." A snort escaped me at the mental image. That mask was like Might Guy's spandex suit.
Misha's eyes widened in something akin to horror. "Thank the gods they're not."
I shook my head in amusement before straightening up and rolling my shoulders a little. This day started on a high note, and flirting with Misha pumped me up even more. I couldn't wait to start farming XP and test my Skill.
"Well, this was fun. Have a nice day, Misha, I'm off to the murder pit."
"You, too, Jack." Misha said, a pleasant lilt in her voice, before pointing a finger my way as an exaggerated frown tugged at her lips. "And don't be reckless."
I shook my head with a smile, giving the pink haired tease a wave before walking out of the Guild.
People bustled to and fro on the street, but I barely paid them attention, my gaze cast upon the tall spire in the distance and what lay beneath.
Destiny awaited.
__________________________________________
I climbed down the stairway to hell, an enthusiastic smile on my face. Sane people went into the dungeon expecting to get their shit rocked, but a true adventurer boldly stepped in, thinking about epic fights and being the Greatest Cool.
A couple guys leaving the dungeon looked a little weirded out as they passed by, but I ignored them. They just didn't understand.
Maybe I looked a little unhinged, but who cared? Free XP and riches awaited beneath my feet, and I was on my way to claim it.
I stopped at the end of the stairs, a long, wide hallway opening up before me. The entrance to the first floor. Despite the dim ambient light, I could still see clearly enough, even dozens of meters up ahead. The Falna was awesome like that.
The stale, musty air sucked, though.
Rolling my shoulders and removing a kink from my neck, I stepped forward, an eager smile on my lips, ready to brave the unforgiving crucible where worthy men forged themselves into legends.
The first hallway stretched on ahead as I walked, with seemingly no end in sight. A nagging feeling at the back of my mind kept me on edge, the whole atmosphere akin to playing one of those shitty jump scare games.
I gripped that feeling and squashed it with extreme prejudice. This place may be creepy as fuck, but it would not dissuade me from my path. My goal. I'd dive as deep as I had to inside this murder pit, when the reward was that sweet, sweet, chocolate booty.
After a few minutes of idle walking, long enough to nearly get bored, I heard a noise from up ahead, and soon enough, a green midget popped up from a side corridor to the left, his beady, red eyes homing on me like a laser. The sheer hatred gleaming within almost gave me pause, but my resolve was like steel. An angry, malformed midget would not budge me.
As the goblin rushed across the hallway like a rabid chihuahua, I did the first thing that came to mind. The moment he got close enough, my leg tensed, shooting out like a viper, hips twisting to add more force as I punted the little shit with all my might.
I grimaced as claws missed my shin by inches, the pickle headed midget sailing forth like an oversized football. A wet crunch reached my ears as the goblin hit a side wall, leaving a starburst bloodstain on the rock as the monster crumpled to the ground, motionless.
I blinked, staring wide-eyed at the dripping, abstract art piece for a moment, before a grin split my face.
Rule of Cool was awesome.
Keeping my eyes peeled for any other jump scares, I pulled out my knife and walked up to the dead goblin, crouching next to it. From what I remembered, these guys were supposed to have their magic stone in the chest.
I rested my knife on the bulging belly, tapping it idly against the skin. Rib cage access would be the least messy, but scraping against the bone, even on accident, would just dull my knife.
Frowning, I stabbed the left flank, right beneath the rib cage, opening up a long gash to the other end. My nose scrunched at the smell, and I took a moment to psyche myself up before digging a hand inside the creature's warm and slimy guts, reaching upwards into the chest and feeling around the organs.
It was unpleasant and viscerally disgusting, but a guy had to eat.
I kept an eye around the cave for any nasty surprises while continuing to dig around the monster's chest for treasure, and, soon enough, my fingers brushed by a small, uneven pebble. I pinched it and yanked, watching how the goblin suddenly turned into wispy nothingness.
Pretty cool.
My hand was soaked in blood, which, sadly, did not disappear along with the rest of the monster. Which made no fucking sense, but I wasn't going to beat my head over fantasy magic mechanics. Next time, I'd just have to bring some rags to wipe my hands.
Sighing, I dumped the pinky sized magic stone in my backpack, wiping the tip of my knife on my forearm before sheathing it. I walked deeper down the hallway, keeping my ears open for any signs of danger.
Sadly, this world had the ugly variety of goblins. A cute, green shortstack with big tits and a tight pussy would've been nice, even if I had to tame her first, but maybe I'd get lucky on the lower floors with a sexy mermaid?
I'd be happy with my amazons, but monster pussy was monster pussy. I've always wanted to fuck a monster girl, and this dungeon came with a tempting variety. It was different.
Lamias, harpies, sirens, vouivre. I'd bang even that arachne Xenos, if she had a pussy on her human half. A man couldn't just live in a fantasy world with monster girls and not fuck all of them at least once.
As I rounded a corner, another green midget tried to jump scare me, but I just dodged and backhanded him with my spiky fist, sending him on his ass with a pained screech. It tried to scamper back on his feet, but I quickly introduced his face to my boot, kicking the head like a football, neck twisting sideways with a gruesome noise as the corpse tumbled on the floor a couple feet.
Huh. That neck broke way easier than I expected. Was it my Skill again?
The sound of cracking stone drew my gaze to the wall on the left just in time to witness the miracle of life, and my body kicked into high gear. I closed the distance as three more green midgets fell to the floor, quickly scrambling to get on their stubby feet.
I stomped on the nearest goblin, breaking its back as an unholy screech tore out of its mouth. The other two managed to get on their feet, and one of them lunged at me, claws poised to carve me up like a cake. The move was telegraphed enough that my improved reaction time easily let me dodge, left arm lashing out as I twisted my body to the side, backhanding the goblin with a spiky knuckle to the face.
It didn't kill the little bastard, but it staggered him long enough to deal with the other goblin, who jumped at me from the right. I barely managed to move out of the way as a pair of claws brushed past my right arm, and I pivoted on my foot, hips twisting as I lashed out with a snap kick to the midget's back, sending him crashing face first into the ground. He screeched, trying to scramble back up, but I stomped on his neck as hard as I could, pulping it beneath my foot.
I faced the remaining goblin still on his feet, just in time as it rushed me from behind, claws raised in another telegraphed attack. My feet pushed me into a sideways dodge, the midget overextending into his lunge and losing balance for a moment. Spiky knuckles crashed into his face before he could recover, staggering him with a pained screech. I dodged a blind, angry swipe before hitting the goblin with another jab in the mug, followed by another, and another, until I sent the bastard sprawling on his ass.
I stomped forward on its neck, but it thrashed around, throwing my aim enough that I hit him square on his chest. An instant later, his body exploded in wispy darkness, leaving me with a frown.
These magic stones were more fragile than I imagined. Or maybe the small ones were like that?
A pained screech from behind reminded me that I still had one more goblin left to kill, but this one was already crippled, so I just walked up to him before stomping on his neck.
Part of me felt a little bad at brutalizing these goblins like this, but I ignored it. They were just mindless creatures that would happily murder me if given the chance.
A stinging sensation in my right arm drew my attention to a small, red spot on my upper sleeve. My lips twisted with a frown. That little shit managed to nick my arm. I should try to avoid taking on more than three mobs at a time.
The secret to fighting was to always keep moving, even if you only bounced on your feet like a twenty dollar hooker. My karate instructor from middle school made sure to drill that in my head, and now I could see why.
It made dodging and counterattacking a lot easier.
My gaze drifted to the three corpses strewn around the corridor, and, for a brief moment, I simply took in my handiwork.
A giddy shiver climbed up my spine, mouth curling with an eager smile. Each of them was a number on my back, their deaths fuel for my Falna. Tangible power. An intoxicating feeling of progress.
I moved to the nearest corpse, hand brushing the handle of my knife, inching it out of its sheath. I'd definitely get myself a Supporter after building some stats. Harvesting the magic stones wasted time and–
More cracking sounds pulled my attention to the wall behind me as it spawned three more goblins. My smile widened as I picked up a nearby rock, waiting for them to get closer.
Time to take a page out of a certain Slayer's book and cause a goblin genocide.
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My foot met soft, warm flesh, and the midget went sailing through the air, crashing into another goblin, both of them staggered. A rock followed suit, hitting one of them in the head, cracking it open.
Twenty-two.
I dashed forward, backhanding the surviving goblin with spiky metal as he scampered to his feet, sending him back to the floor. My foot came down in a savage stomp, breaking his neck.
Twenty-three.
My skill was crazy. It was triggering almost every fight, but I chalked that up to being on my first milk run in the dungeon. A fresh level one beating the shit outta low level monsters with his hands was cool. A guy with near triple digit stats doing the same? Not so cool.
The wall to my left cracked as three more goblins slowly emerged, and I took a moment to catch my breath, sucking in air deeply through my nose and puffing it out through my mouth.
I didn't stop walking, though, closing the distance to the trio of goblins and breaking out into a flurry of movement just as they fell to the ground.
The first one died to a foot to the face, smashing his head against the wall behind.
Twenty-four.
The second got punted a few meters away before he could fully get up on his feet, and I chased after him like a pro football player, hateful screeching filling the cave as the third goblin made a beeline towards me. The midget landed in a heap of limbs, trying to scramble back upright, but I gave him another kick to the head, a gruesome crack reaching my ears as the corpse tumbled around, head bent at an unnatural angle.
Twenty-five.
Dodging an angry lunge from the last goblin, my hand lashed out like a viper, jabbing the little bastard in the jaw. The goblin staggered, and I followed up with another jab, then another, dodging a weak claw swipe as I repeatedly pulped his face.
Twenty-six.
As the corpse hit the ground with a dull thud, I glanced around while catching my breath, waiting almost a minute before pulling out my knife and–
The wall in front of me cracked as four more goblins spawned.
Motherfucker.
Face twisting with a snarl, I shifted my knife in reverse grip and dashed at the goblins before they could fully emerge, stabbing the closest one in the neck, tearing my knife through it just as the other three fell to the ground.
Twenty-seven.
I managed to catch the second one with a kick before he got to his feet, sadly without snapping his neck, but then I had to pull back, dodging a swipe from the third angry midget and a lunge from the fourth.
Sweat soaked my shirt, more beading my face as I dodged around a few more swipes, lungs burning from exertion as I waited for an opening to strike. Thank fuck I managed to kill one of them.
Luckily for me, one of the attacking goblins overextended after missing a swipe, and I fully exploited that opening with a swipe of my knife, carving a long gash through the side of his neck. It wasn't enough to kill him on the spot, and I couldn't double tap as the other goblin took another swipe at me.
Dodging around it and backhanding the little fucker to the floor, I dashed away to the opposite direction, letting the cut up goblin bleed out as he tried chasing after me while gurgling weakly.
Twenty-eight.
My eyes caught a flash of movement from the side, and I jerked aside on instinct, just as sharp claws passed a hair's breath away from my face.
Heart thundering in my chest, I moved without thinking, fist cocking back, hips twisting as I turned to the side, jabbing the midget in the chin as hard as I could. His head snapped back with an audible crunch, and I watched, wide eyed, as the goblin sailed in an upwards arc, landing in a boneless heap a few feet away.
Holy shit, that almost looked like a Shoryuken, what the fu–
I had less than a second to contemplate my epic finisher move as the last goblin came rushing from the left, but all it took was a dodge and a knuckle to the face to stagger him before I turned him into Swiss cheese with my knife.
Twenty-nine. Thirty.
My chest heaved with labored breaths as I sat down on the floor, greedily sucking in air through my mouth. If the dungeon decided to throw more mobs at me in the next five minutes, I was going to book it.
I had to be more careful. I'd let that fucker out of my sight for a few moments, and he almost got me.
It took a couple minutes for my breathing to settle, and I stood up, wiping the sweat off my brow with my arm.
Spotting a nearby rock, I picked it up and made my way to the nearest corpse, leaving the stone next to my feet as I dropped to one knee and got to work.
I was still on the first floor, trying to get a bit more fighting experience against these goblins and kobolds. Dungeon lizards began spawning on the second floor, and those fuckers could climb walls and drop from blind spots. I'd deal with them after my first status update.
Carving up these monsters for that sweet, sweet loot was mind-numbingly dull, but I didn't let my mind wander, making sure to keep an eye out for any nasty surprises.
Just as I was harvesting the last corpse for its magic stone, a kobold popped up from beyond the corner further ahead, his crimson, hateful eyes homing in on me. My free hand reached for the fist sized rock that I'd left next to the corpse as I sprang to my feet, arm winding back and throwing the stone with Olympic grace.
It sailed through the air, nailing the kobold right in the left eye, drawing a spurt of blood and an agonized howl. A perfect moneyshot, if I'd ever seen one.
Two more dog-man things appeared from behind the staggered monster, but I was already moving, knife in one hand and teeth bared in a wild smile.
One of the kobolds leapt at me as I dodged to the side, pivoting on my foot without looking, leg snapping out to strike the beast in the jaw like a hammer. There was a cracking sound, and the fucker crumpled to the ground, head twisted at an unnatural angle.
Holy shi–
I had no time to admire the bullshit of my skill, as the other kobold was already upon me. I dodged the first swipe, but these dog things were faster and had longer reach than goblins. The other paw was already moving in for a swipe, and I barely raised my hand in time to parry, the claws scraping futilely against the metal of my glove as the kobold yowled in pain.
He struck at just the right angle to fuck up his own hand on the metal spikes, and I took advantage of this brief opening to kick at the side of his knee, somehow popping it out of the socket.
The kobold howled in pain as he fell to the ground, and I silenced him with a kick to the head, then a stomp on the neck.
Thirty-two.
Best Skill ever.
I had no time to celebrate, though, as the last kobold charged me, despite his blinded eye. With his depth perception fucked, the dog thing had a hard time aiming, so I just dodged around the swipes while making short work of him with my fists and knife.
Thirty-three.
Crouching next to the corpse, I started the tedious harvesting process once more.
The dungeon was a bit more patient this time, as it let me finish harvesting all the kobolds before I heard cracking sounds coming from the nearest wall.
Looking up to see three midgets popping out of the stone, I rose up and sheathed my knife, flexing my fingers a couple times.
I faced the fresh trio of goblins with a smile, blood staining my hands red, and for an instant, they seemed to hesitate. I cracked my neck, smile widening as they growled before charging at me, their beady, red eyes gleaming with the promise of murder.
My body tensed, limbs waiting like coiled vipers, ready to rip and tear through these creatures until they were all gone.
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