Donut jumped down and sniffed at the corpse. She made a disgusted face. “Repulsive. I see a couple more red dots one hallway over.”
I looked at my map, and the red dots weren’t there. A blink, and then they appeared. I’d been noticing that recently, that Donut could sense active monsters a few moments before I could. I suspected it had something to do with her race, but I wasn’t certain. These dots were moving quickly down the adjacent hallway.
“Those aren’t grubs. If the bugs are like the rats, then we haven’t yet met the mobs of this quadrant.” I took my foot, and I smashed down on the remains of the corpse that Agatha had killed. I smashed and crushed, smearing the innards all over the place until the X disappeared on the map.
“Carl,” Donut said, looking between me and the splattered remains. “Are you quite all right?”
“Did you read that description of the grubs?” I said as I wiped my foot on a cinderblock. I could barely feel the bottom of my soles. The sides of my foot were still as sensitive as ever. “We can’t just leave corpses lying around. Even their own corpses. Not in this part of the dungeon. From now on, we do our best to leave as little behind as possible.”
She crinkled her nose. “I don’t feel as if that’s an efficient use of our time. My people aren’t going to enjoy watching me desecrate the dead. This is just revolting. I’d much rather you not do this.”
“Your people aren’t going to enjoy watching you get killed by whatever these things grow up to be.”
We continued down the hall, turning a junction, then another, angling toward the other red dots. These guys were moving in what looked like a patrol pattern. I suspected if we continued further in that direction we’d find their base and the neighborhood boss. That wasn’t something I wanted to tackle just yet.
“Let’s go get these things already. It’s taking much too long,” Donut said, hopping up and down. With her collar charm and crupper, she sounded like a bell.
“Goddamnit, Donut,” I said. “You’re a cat. You need to work on your stealth.”
The creatures paused, then they both stopped in the hallway and started moving quickly in our direction.
“See?” I said. “We need to see what the mobs are before we force confrontations.”
I stepped out, waiting for them to round the corner. Donut returned to my shoulder.
She was starting to reply to me, but she squealed in anger the moment the mobs appeared. She dug her paws painfully into my shoulder as she tensed. She fired off two rapid-succession missiles. Both of the creatures hit the ground, their health moving into the red. Barely. They got up and continued toward us snarling and snapping.
And barking.
The AI approximated a terrible Australian accent.
Danger Dingo. Level 5.
These aren’t the cute, cuddly, baby-eating puppies from the land down under. No, mate. The Danger Dingo features a stronger body, sharper teeth, and a penchant for black metal bands such as Dimmu Borgir and Satyricon. Where there are dingoes, their Kobold riders and slave masters usually aren’t far behind.
“Die!” Donut screamed, shooting two more missiles. Both of the monsters fell over, dead and steaming. She’d used 24 of her 26 mana points in seconds. She sat on my shoulder, breathing heavily.
“So,” I said, looking down at the corpses that continued their forward trajectory, sliding to a stop at our feet. “Not a fan of dogs, are we?” These guys didn’t look much like regular dingoes. First off, they were huge, about the size of mastiffs. They each had a fur pattern on their faces that looked like heavy metal corpse paint. Their fangs were absurdly long and sharp, giving them an almost prehistoric look. Both dropped “Poor Dingo Pelts” which Donut looted.
One of them also dropped something we hadn’t seen yet. A pair of gold coins. Donut snatched them away before I could examine the money’s properties.
“I must admit, I did get a little carried away there,” Donut said. With a swipe of her claw, she ripped the dingo’s head right off. She kicked it, and the head exploded against the wall. Once again, the corpses on this level were significantly more fragile once they died. I watched as she gingerly and matter-of-factly tore the corpses to shreds, careful not to get any gore on herself. She kept saying “Ew, ew, gross, ew,” as she did it. She wasn’t quite successful keeping the blood off of her, and by the time she was done, both her forward legs were soaked red.
“What happened to not wanting to desecrate a corpse?”
“Cocker spaniels deserve to have their corpses desecrated.”
“Those aren't…” I stopped myself. I wasn’t going to argue with her. She knew perfectly well these weren’t cocker spaniels. She was just playing for the camera.
“Let’s back out of this area for now.” I indicated the curved hallway. I could see a few larger rooms ahead, and I suspected we’d be knee-deep in dingoes and kobolds if we went further.
As we approached the main hallway, I didn’t see any further signs of the dingo mobs, but we did find a couple more dead grubs. And plenty more living ones. The things were everywhere, and we had to kill them by the dozens.
“There’s a safe room,” Donut said. “It’s right off the hallway.”
I looked, and she was right. It was in the wrong direction from the stairwell, but it was close.
We headed that way, edging into another quadrant. This one was filled with floating brains with tentacles tangling under them. They looked like jellyfish. They were called “Mind Horrors,” and were all level four. They used something called a psionic attack. Donut wasn’t affected at all by them, but I was. I could feel them before I saw them, their presence causing an almost debilitating headache. But they were physically weak, and they moved slowly, like little miniature blimps. I could punch them out of the sky before their mental attacks lowered my health more than a few points. Their brain-shaped bodies had the consistency of a jam-filled kickball. They bounced when they hit the ground, sometimes splattering.
I didn’t want to go further into this neighborhood, but we cleared the way to the safe room.
The room, unfortunately, wasn’t one of the restaurants with a Bopca Protector, though the chamber itself was much bigger than any other safe room I’d seen. It appeared to be some sort of storm shelter. The signs on the doors for the restrooms were in French. The television screens were attached to the walls on one end of the cavernous room. About fifty dusty cots were pushed up against another wall. There was no food, no cookies, no vending machines. Just bathrooms, showers, and sinks.
But there was something I’d never seen before. A mailbox, attached to a pole in the ground near the wall with the televisions. It was a standard black mailbox with a little red flag, the kind someone out in the suburbs would have in front of their house. I immediately moved to the box and tried to open the little door, but I received an error message.
Why would someone send you mail?
“Weird,” I said.
The number of boxes and achievements we’d received was less than usual, but I still had quite a few. Several of my battle stats had also ticked up. I sat down on one of the cots and examined my achievements as Donut did the same.
New achievement! Borough Boss!
So, you’ve stumbled into the chamber of the second-weakest type of boss. If you survive this, it means you are in the top 5% of all crawlers. Too bad only the top .25% make it past the next tier.
Reward: Yeah, no.
New achievement! Bully and a Thief!
You’ve stolen property from a fellow crawler who is a lower level than you. What’s next, tough guy? Kicking puppies?
Reward: You’ve received a Bronze Asshole’s Box.
That one confused me for a moment until I realized I’d gotten it for taking Agatha’s shopping cart.