“Okay,” I said, trying to make sense of what he was desperately attempting to tell me.
“What the goodness is a tikbalang?” Donut asked, pausing in her cleaning. “It sounds like some sort of disease a sailor would get.”
“Do you know what a horse is?” Mordecai asked, looking up. He seemed relieved for the question.
“Of course.”
“They’re like that. But meaner.”
I closed my fist. Two seconds ticked by, I felt a haptic buzz all up my arm, and with a whoosh, my hand turned into a spiked hunk of metal. I had to clench my fist really tight to make it work, which was good. The last thing I needed was this thing appearing when I didn’t want it to. I examined the malevolent-looking gauntlet. There was nothing ornate about it. It was black, angular with multiple, gleaming spikes. A tool, nothing more. It felt heavy on my hand, but not too heavy. No more breaking fingers when I punched something. I felt the extra strength ripple through me. I released my fist, and the gauntlet vanished in a puff of smoke that smelled of burned hair.
“Awesome,” I said.
26
Time to Level Collapse: 6 hours 30 minutes.
“Are you ready?” I asked Brandon as we poised at the entrance to the borough boss chamber.
“No,” he said, smiling sadly. He clutched onto his massive war hammer for a moment. It disappeared into his inventory. The giant weapon could only get in the way during the first part of the plan. Donut perched on my shoulder while the others crowded behind us.
We didn’t have time left for any more training, any more preparation. It was now or never.
The third episode of Dungeon Crawler World hadn’t offered any additional insight. Donut and I had sat in the Taco Bell watching it on the screen while the proprietor, another Bopca Protector named Sebastian, sat next to us and brushed Donut’s hair with one of his own brushes, which he’d gifted to her after her third shower. Her insane charisma of 41 caused the level-21 NPC to practically fall in love with her the moment we entered the safe zone. I sipped on a delicious Peruvian beer and picked at my T-bone steak as we watched crawlers by the dozens get slaughtered while the host breathlessly described the action.
The second half of the program had zeroed in on five different groups of adventurers, including that woman with the magical crossbow and Lucia Mar with her two rottweilers. The other three groups were larger, including one that comprised of 150 African soldiers armed with AK-47s. All of these groups, if the show was to be believed, were just moonwalking their way through the dungeon. All of them had found stairwells down already and were camping near them, waiting for the clock to tick to exactly six hours before they descended.
Much to Donut’s dismay, we were once again snubbed by the program. I didn’t care. I was much more occupied with that number. I couldn’t get it out of my head.
2,552,085.
From thirteen million to this in just under four days. A cataclysm. Every single one of those numbers was a person, someone who had lived, breathed, hoped, laughed. And they were just gone. The announcement hadn’t offered any additional insight, either. Another, more stern warning about using the hallways as a bathroom. A litany of changes regarding spells and power levels of mobs, none of which affected us. After sleeping for a few hours, we headed back to the encampment, and I related my dubious, off-the-cuff plan to the group of crawlers who had all appeared shocked that we’d actually returned.
“Here we go,” I said now, stepping across the drawbridge and through the giant archway.
Brandon, Chris, Yolanda, and Imani followed. We hesitantly entered the round courtyard to the spiral maze.
“No, Agatha, don’t!” I heard a voice behind me. It was Yolanda, yelling at the woman with the shopping cart, who’d wheeled up behind us.
The woman didn’t listen to Yolanda and pushed her way into the entrance hall, cackling with delight. “You’re not doing this without ol’ Agatha.”
“We don’t have room for you, Agatha!” Yolanda yelled. “Get back!”
“Crazy bat,” Brandon said. “You’re gonna get us all killed.”
“I think that roly-poly is the one that’s gonna get us all killed,” Agatha said.
“Shut up. Everybody shut up,” Imani said, raising her hand. “Listen for the monster.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s going to announce itself at any moment.”
The gate behind us slammed shut as music rose. Metal bars magically appeared, locking us in.
This was different music than usual. Faster, more frenetic. An EDM beat mixed by a DJ hopped up on Adderall. A deep bass reverberated the ground.
The lights flickered, then went dark. A moment later, they came back on, filling the area with the purple hue of a blacklight. Neon lights appeared on the ceiling. Lasers ripped across the hallways, flashing in beat with the music. We’d stepped into a rave. The sound of rock scraping filled the room, louder than the song. I turned in a circle, trying to find the source.
It was the walls of the courtyard, I realized. They were sinking into the ground, leaving us exposed.
B-B-B-Boss Battle!
The voice was distorted, even louder than last time.
You have discovered the lair of a Borough Boss!
Ladies and Gentlemen, it is time for the main event! Are you ready? Can you feel it coming? I SAID ARE YOU READY?
I want you to put your hands together.
Aaaand here. We. Gooooo!
I grimaced as I waited for the walls of the round courtyard to finish sinking into the earth.
I turned to Brandon. “Get ready.” I had to shout the words.
The man nodded. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Behind, the three others spread out. Chris and short Yolanda both looked absolutely terrified. Imani clutched her sword in two hands, looking grim. Agatha stood there, seemingly oblivious, scratching a hair between her two bulbous eyes.
Our seven mugshots appeared floating in the air, one by one. I noted we were in three groups. The Royal Court of Princess Donut. Meadow Lark. And Agatha was just Crawler Agatha. The giant Versus slammed into place. The metallic word was in a silver font instead of a bronze one this time. The words burst into flames, and even though this was supposedly virtual text, I felt a blast of heat.
And that’s when we saw it.
With the wall fully retracted, a hallway spread before us, like we were standing on the landing before a tunnel in a subway, but without the drop. The round tunnel was about as wide a single lane freeway, about fifteen feet tall. The creature roared by right in front of us, startlingly fast, moving from right to left. It was massive, made of flesh, rolling like a pinball. It stank of sewage and rotten meat. It grunted and squealed, a high-pitched, angry pig noise. The flesh was pink, rippling, covered in eyes and random hairs and tusks. But there was something else there, too. Random flaps of black and white cloth were embedded in the flesh, mixed in with swaths of red-sequined fabric.
“What in the holy hell is that?” Brandon shouted. “It looks like there are…”
The world froze.
The
Ball
of
Swine!
Level 15 Borough Boss!
Also known as the Porkchop Express, the Ball of Swine is one of the rarest, most deadly battle formations of the Tuskling. Encompassing at least 30 Tuskling knights and their lady loves, a Ball formation requires a specific set of circumstances to create. Combine a gathering of Tuskling aristocracy, add an alcohol-fueled, sexually-charged orgy of war lust, and sometimes, just sometimes, the wild, ancient battle magic that permeates their war-torn world casts the spell, forming the ball. The Tusklings, the ruling class of the Orcish Supremacy, shape into an inseparable sphere that rolls onto the countryside. The ball of pork won’t stop its night of terror until it has crushed the poor, the weak, and the lesser citizens under its unstoppable weight.