What I said before, about it being time to leave? That was a lie. I am a liar. A bad dog, as it were. But I couldn’t help it.

The snacks were just so good.

I resolved to have my fill just one more time, since I couldn’t carry them with me. And believe me, I tried in that regard, but sadly my interface inventory appeared to only be for generated items. I could take equipment and even items like my cores and matches out into the real world, and then put them back in, but any other object simply resulted in an error message.

So here I was, stuffing my cheeks to bursting with snacks. A journey into the city center—as I had eventually settled upon—would take me at least several days. I needed to make sure I had the energy to keep my strength up.

Besides, I was a—munch, munch—growing—crunch—puppy. These snacks may not have been meat, but some of them sure tasted like it.

After what felt like both hours and not nearly enough time at all, my belly was sagging low to the ground, and I couldn’t squeeze in even one more crispy bite if I’d wanted to. A satisfying feast, if a somewhat fleeting one.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t just lay down amid my remaining prizes like a dragon amidst his hoard, as all those salty snacks had another unfortunate side-effect: I was desperately thirsty.

Luckily, it wasn’t too far to my hose.

I managed to drag myself the short distance, my belly almost scraping the ground the entire way. The pool was still a bit diminished from my previous visit, but there was more than enough to slake my thirst.

Though sadly not enough to clean myself properly. I sniffed at myself, and almost growled at the resulting stench. Even for a dog, I smelled terrible.

Then I turned my attention back to the hose. Considered it for a moment. Glanced to the left. To the right.

Still not a human in sight. So why was I still living my life like there was?

Turning back, I activated Claw Slash and swung my paw at the hose. One elongated claw sliced through the rubber so cleanly, it took a full second before the hose broke in two. Water gushed out, overflowing the small pool and making a river down the lane in seconds.

Wagging my tail, I started rolling directly in front of the waterfall. It was cold, but who cared? It was clean, and in seconds the water pressure had blasted most of the zombie pieces from my coat.

I made several passes, making sure both sides of my coat were thoroughly scrubbed, then retreated to a safe distance to shake dry. By the time I got back to my shipping container, I felt like a new dog entirely.

Only then did I let myself drift to sleep amid a pile of empty snack packages. Life was good.

----------------------------------------

The next morning—after only a slightly indulgent breakfast—I set off towards the city. At least, I tried to.

I quickly discovered that most of the exits to the shipyard were sealed, and the fences surrounding them were much too high for me to scale. Once, I found a shipping container near enough to the wall I could have made it over, but after studying the drop on the other side, I decided to save it for after I’d exhausted all other options.

So I ended up setting off deeper into the shipyard, trying to find an open gate, or, barring that, a space in the fence I might wriggle through.

Luckily, fortune was with me. Near the far corner from the waterfront, an area I had yet to fully explore, I found a gaping hole in the fence. The cause lay on its side not too distant; an immense gray fire truck, ironically half burnt out itself from whatever had caused the crash.

Circling the vehicle, I sniffed it curiously. However, I caught nothing. If anyone had managed to crawl out of the wreckage, they were long since gone. As was the cause of the wreck.

I did find one of the vehicle’s doors a short distance away, torn off its hinges by some immense force. The words ‘Oakland Fire Department’ were still faintly visible in pale letters.

That’s right! I remembered now. This shipyard was part of the Port of Oakland. I glanced over my shoulder at the bay. Across the water from here was another city called San Francisco. I’d never been, on account of the only roads being—

I paused.

How in dog’s name did I know that?

Something that had been tickling the back of my mind since yesterday finally rose up in its full and absolute horror. When I’d been trapped by the guardian, I’d managed to use the alcohol as a fuel source. But how had I known how to do that? It was definitely not knowledge I’d possessed before becoming a canid.

Knowing new words and their meanings was one thing. I could accept that. But having new ideas in my head felt... wrong, somehow. My ideas were what made me... well, me.

Whatever process the system had used to make me sapient had changed me physically. I knew that. Yet the thought of what that change meant to my mind... my personality. I hadn’t really stopped to consider.

No. It was more like I’d been subconsciously avoiding the subject. Was this because I didn’t want to look too deeply at exactly the sort of creature I’d become? Or was it something else?

I’d simply accepted the nature of the zombies when they first appeared. Fighting them had felt natural, too. So did leveling up and completing quests. Now here I was, ready to strike out into potentially dangerous territory for... what? A feeling in my head, and nothing more? Looking back now, it seemed ludicrous.

Was the system itself influencing my decisions? How much of my choice to be here, right now, was the system, and how much was my own?

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I didn’t have any answers to these questions, and that bothered me on a deep, intrinsic level.

My whole worldview felt shaken.

I might not have known what to do, but I did know what not to. Instead of heading towards downtown, I moved away from it, following the waterfront further south and east. Even though some inner feeling told me that downtown was the right place to go. Because it was telling me downtown was the right place to go.

Until I knew if I could trust my own instincts, I’d simply have to ignore them.

I traveled down empty roads, only the occasional crashed vehicle showing any indication that it was anything beyond another quiet morning. The industrial buildings fell away the further I got from the shipyard, and soon I was padding past multi-level apartment complexes and smart looking businesses. I didn’t have a goal in mind, only to avoid going towards where the system wanted me to go.

Eventually, my nose caught a whiff of something. Something... delicious. I’d been padding along for a while and hadn’t seen any other sign of life: human, animal, or monster. I was starting to wonder if all the zombies at the waterfront had been a fluke. Surely the streets outside should have been crawling with them. But they were empty. Deserted.

So with no better purpose, I followed my nose, which was an instinct I remembered vividly before my awakening, and thus knew to be trustworthy. I’d always had a voracious appetite, and my transformation hadn’t changed that about me.

I reached the end of the road and entered a wide gray-brick courtyard. A sign nearby advertised it as ‘Jack London Square’. The name seemed dimly familiar, but I forced myself not to think about it. I’d had enough with implanted memories for the time being.

Luckily, I had more important matters to worry about. There was a restaurant nearby, and the wonderful smell was emanating from inside. Now that I was this close, I could place it—meat.

Fresh meat, too, or at least fresh enough for my purposes.

I poked my nose through the open front door. It appeared the place had once been an upscale—no, I wasn’t going to dwell on what that word meant, dangit!—restaurant, though clearly those days were behind it. Tables lay in broken pieces amid overturned chairs and shattered plates. There was a underlying smell of rotten food, but it appeared to have faded to little more than a whiff.

But over all of this was the tantalizing smell of meat.

I crept my way through the main dining area, following the scent towards the kitchens in the back. A single light still glowed steadily overhead here, showing much of the same chaos as before: broken cookpots, knives in disarray on the floor.

No bodies, though. Odd. A struggle must have taken place here, so you would think... then again, if they got up and walked away as zombies, there wouldn’t be much evidence.

Still, I remained cautious as I entered the kitchen. And good that I did. Halfway between two food prep stations, I heard a clattering noise, followed by indistinct shouting.

I froze. Then, slowly, lower to the ground now, I slunk forward.

The shouting grew louder as I approached the doors to a large walk-in fridge, one of which hung partially open. Despite that, the words didn’t become any more coherent. It sounded less like human speech, and more like the garbled warblings of some angry beast. Three dots appeared in my vision, just on the other side.

Hesitating before the door, I drew in a breath—and got a fresh whiff of delicious meat. Whatever else was going on in there, my prize lay waiting as well. I braced myself.

Dart in. Grab the food. Dart out. Simple.

I shot through the gap and into the fridge. A blast of chill air hit my nose, but I barely felt it otherwise. Every fiber of me was focused on keying in to the delicious meat smell. Probably why it took me a moment to see anything else.

The three creatures froze, one of them in the process of pulling a large slab from a hook, the other two tearing apart a package of some sort from one of the shelves. We all stared at each other. My hackles rose involuntarily.

While we stared, the system happily chimed in.

Goblins (Basic)

Level 3

The cheekiest little bastards you’ll ever meet, goblins are quick, cunning, and quite adept at working together. One is dangerous, but a group of them are downright formidable. Don’t let their size fool you. They may be small, but unless you enjoy being stabbed multiple times in the spleen, you should probably treat them with the dignity and respect they’re due.

Small was right. None of these creatures went up past my shoulder. They all had loose, leathery skin with a slightly grayish tint to it, and were dressed in loose jeans and t-shirts that had likely once been white, but which were now covered in stains. One of them wore a baseball cap with the words ‘SF Giants’ printed in large letters.

They also all wore large knives on their belts—short swords?—either way, the blades had a deadly glint to them, for all that they were nicked and scratched. The two goblins fighting over the package released it with a squawk and went to draw their weapons.

Before they had a chance, I lunged forward and seized the piece of meat.

I tried swallowing what I could; when that turned out to be far too much to finish in one bite I quickly gnawed at it, hoping to break off a more sizeable chunk and make my escape. Before I could, the two sword-wielding goblins charged me.

As the first swung at me, I released my prize to snap at it. I know, I know, but even after all this time instincts die hard, and I was a dog with a succulent piece of meat. I reverted to my baser self.

The goblin danced back at my snapping, then darted in again, his sword hissing like a striking serpent. I just barely managed to duck under it.

At that point, my brain started working, and I activated my wands. A stun blast hit the goblin square in the chest, sending him tumbling like a statue to the floor.

Immediately, I leapt on top of him. My Claw Slash tore him apart down the middle, blood spraying out in a dark blast.

You have defeated: Goblin (Basic) — Level 3

100 XP and 1 Common Core awarded.

The blood went everywhere, coating the walls of the fridge and getting me full in the face. I gagged and shook my head. Soon as my eyes were clear, I saw the second goblin charging me.

He was about two feet away when my second stun blast froze him in place. I stepped out of the way as his forward momentum carried him past me to crash into a shelf of wilted vegetables. Before he could recover, my jaws snapped and tore into his throat. Rip. Splat.

You have defeated: Goblin (Basic) — Level 3

100 XP and 1 Common Core awarded.

Blegh. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but these things actually tasted worse than zombie flesh.

A flash of movement out of the corner of my eye caused me to turn, just in time to see the last goblin slipping through the open door. With my meat!

I started after him, but paused as another block of text appeared in my vision.

New quest available!

Goblin Raiders

Those pesky goblins are at it again, raiding the peasant’s village and stealing from the local farmers. This time they’ve made off with a prize-winning lamb. Sally forth after them and reclaim the animal in the name of the village!

Task: Retrieve stolen animal

Time limit: 24 hours

Reward: 1,000 XP, Yellow Quality Loot Box

That... huh. I blinked at the message, which didn’t seem to quite... match. A quick glance around told me this was no village, and that rack of meat was certainly no lamb.

And again, the system was trying to influence me! Even before the quest appeared I had felt my hackles rise merely at the sight of the monsters. Now here it was goading me to follow—again!

I almost didn’t obey. But the meat... I could still faintly taste it upon my tongue. Its scent lingered, and I knew I’d have no trouble following, wherever it went.

So that’s what I did. Quest be dog darned.

I wanted my meat.