[ Annoucement: It has come to thy attention that contestants be abusing the aptly named "Rental Restrooms" for their ability to ambush, backstab, and betray their fellows. The Andorin Facsimile is astonished by this turn of events and wishes to promote a fairer game. As such, new rules have been implemented.

1. Rental Restrooms have a 15-minute time limit. Contestants still hiding inside will be ejected into the maw of a Craegor by the time this message ends. Restrooms are not Safe Zones.

2. Andorin Facsimile volunteers will be monitoring for "foul play scenarios", of which will be judged independently. Should the scenario be deemed as "unfair" or "not fun at all," the contestant will either be ejected elsewhere or given a brief period of immunity.

3. Small sinks have been added to Rental Restrooms. Death from dehydration and uncleanliness leave a sour taste in our Sponsor's mouths.

That is all. Try to die gloriously.]

...

"Finally!"

I paid the stupid ten points.

Past the squeaky door was a squat cubicle reminiscent of a port-a-potty. I ignored the hole in the ground and went straight to the sink. I turned the knob to max and washed off as best I could.

No matter how thorough I was, there was a limit I could manage in the small sink. The lack of a mirror made things difficult. There were no towels, so I used the provided toilet paper that felt more like sandpaper to dab the wetness where I could.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

At 15 minutes, I was removed by an unknown force.

I briefly considered paying another ten points and going back in but decided against it.

There was no getting the stench of death out of my nostrils at this point.

[Sponsor M-2955 offers you some wet wipes.]

"Oh. The Cecaelia. Thank you, but not now. I'll go through my loot first and then buy some."

Without an Inventory item, I couldn't automatically loot my kills, but I could still search the bodies.

I searched the cats earlier. There wasn't anything other than the meat and a tiny silver bell from the Matron.

Getting my hands dirty again, I found some quality stuff among the dwarves. The cooking pan was a welcome surprise. So was the pack it came in. Basic supplies and necessities for camping. The dwarves' swords were short but of much better quality than my old one.

It had served its purpose and helped me kill the Matron in a rather hairy fight. I nearly lost my head trying to duck low enough to gut it. The blade didn't hold up and bent from the effort of cutting through the thick hide. It was scrap by the time I used it to kill the first dwarf.

There were several reasons for all the gore and show. One was survival. Two, the fear instilled in the other dwarves made dispatching them smoother. Three! Well, the third reason would come into play later.

For now, I had some decent supplies, weapons, and points adding up to 315.

"Weapon acquired. No map though..."

I flexed my hands a few times.

"How many will it take?"

I wouldn't mourn the deaths of mobs or extras in my novel; otherwise, I wouldn't be able to function. My Clear Mind trait made the killing and other stuff easy. As if I was playing a Role Playing Game. Maybe the fact that I wasn't in my own body inadvertently helped as well.

The only thing that bothered me was the smell.

Turning my hands over, I rubbed my fingers together, feeling the stickiness.

I made a face and looked up at the ceiling.

"I'll take those wet wipes now."