Chapter 46
As was standard practice for the Random Dungeon, James had a total of five mobs to choose from for his seventh floor. Part of him, honestly, had been hoping for six, like his second floor, but he’d come to give up on that pipe dream. He was pretty sure that had been a unique situation, and only because the Archeao-repairers purely existed to heal the other mobs, making them non-combatant type creatures. The standard James had learned, was five damage-based mobs per floor… for him at least. For normal dungeons, they got five new mobs, plus the ability to upgrade further their mobs from previous floors, and use the enhanced versions of them for higher floors. Random Dungeons traded that power, for unique encounters, and well… randomness
The price of being special, he figured.
Of the five mobs, he quickly scanned through the names, noting their costs as he did. Because this was his seventh floor, he started with a whopping 12,8000 mob points to populate the floor with. The lowest mob on his list had a cost of 31 mob points, while the highest was 35. Cost, compared to the total mob points he had, meant he’d be able to populate his seventh floor with 365 mobs. Given the mob types, that was a drink for every day of the year. Nice.
“I’ll have you know,” James turned to look at Steve as he selected the lowest costing mob, “I’m ready for your worst here.”
Steve grinned. “I have no idea what you’re implying.” The developer said, his expression obviously contradictory to that statement. “All of the dungeon mobs in DCO are perfectly normal.”
“Uh huh.” James had a dungeon full of examples to the contrary. He took another breath, preparing his mind for whatever may come. He’d had problems in the past managing his expectations of the mobs. And that had led to more than a few instances of stress, frustration, panic, depression, and a whole myriad of other emotions that James figured would likely be justification for him to sue Steve purely for emotional and mental trauma. Now though, he was ready. He was prepared, for Steve’s worst. He was ready, to summon the first of his five… Cocktail Creations.
One last breath, and James made the mental summoning selection. Jager Bomb. His eyes went wide though, as he saw not one, but two figures begin to appear in the lobby of the hotel, lights flashing around them as they took shape. He blinked once, then twice, as his mind, which he’d sworn was prepared, inevitably froze.
“What the hell?” James asked, turning to Steve. “Is this a bug?”
“Not a bug,” Steve said with a grin, “a feature. And a fun one at that.”
James looked at the two mobs. The first was a bull. A red bull, with wings sprouting from its back. It was roughly the size of an actual bull, not one of his upgraded Mad Cows from his first floor, meaning it’s shoulders were close to the head height of a normal human. It snorted and pawed at the tiled ground, while the other figure placed a calming hand on its side.
The second figure, looked… German? Ancient German, if James was remembering his history books correctly. The man was wearing brown pants with suspenders, the bottoms of which were tucked into calf high white socks, with dark shoes on, and a white, bloused shirt, underneath it all. There were various colors and trimmings added to it, and he wore a green, felt like hat with a colorful feather on one end. In his hand, he held a gun that was bent where the barrel met the stock, a very old, single loading type of hunting rifle perhaps?
“What exactly am I looking at?” James said, giving up before he even let his mind try to puzzle out Steve’s crazy logic. Before Steve could answer, Rue clapped her hands together excitedly, laughing all the while, and spoke up.
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“I get it,” she said, looking from Steve to James. “It’s a Jager Bomb.” She giggled. “Are they all like this?”
“Some are,” Steve said, “others have different features and twists.” He grinned, “Cocktail Creations, I can assure you, were created with A LOT of inspiration from the drinks we named the mobs after.”
He pointed down at the mobs. “What you see before you is, for all intents and purposes. A Jager Bomb.”
“A bull, and an old-time hunter?” James questioned, not following. “I thought these were supposed to be drinks.”
“Jager Bombs,” Steve began, “are a combined cocktail that comes from putting a shot of Jägermeister inside a glass of Red Bull.”
“Er,” James looked at the bull. It was red. But why did it…
“And Red Bull gives you wings.” Rue answered James’s questioning look.
“Exactly,” Steve continued. “So, the mob itself is a red bull with wings, and a literal Jägermeister. Which is German for Hunt Master, before you ask.” Steve grinned, “brilliant, eh?”
“Is it just two mobs then?” James asked. “Is that… all?” He got the premise, he guessed. And he wasn’t going to complain about double the mobs for the cost of one. But given how many mob points he had now that he was a Tier 7 dungeon, the gimmick seemed less enticing than if it had been his very first floor. And did they have individual stats?
“Is that all,” Steve said in a mocking scoff, “pure, brilliant wordplay at its finest, and you can’t appreciate it.” He sighed, “kids these days.”
Before James could speak up, Steve held up a finger. “Of course that’s not all.” The developer said. “You have to let the two fuse first, obviously, in order to truly get the cocktail.”
“They can fuse?” James asked, excitement welling in his chest. He’d only seen one of his mobs fuse in the past. The Terminus, his second-floor boss, could combine with the mini boss, B.L.U., to create the Perfect Cognivore. It was epic the first time he’d ever witnessed it, and honestly was still badass to watch every time it occurred. It also created a creature that was much more powerful than either had been.
“Of course they can.” Steve said, “just watch.”
James turned his focus excitedly down towards the two summoned mobs, wondering what the fusion would look like. Would it create a minotaur? That had to be the only logical choice, right? He watched, and waited, for a moment. Nothing happened. He waited a little longer, as silence filled the space between them, and still nothing. Then he looked at Steve, raising an eyebrow.
“How exactly do we prompt them to fuse?” James asked.
“Did you try asking them nicely?” Steve asked.
James, shaking his head and internally questioning Steve’s sanity, focused on the mobs, and mentally commanded them to fuse. On cue… the German Hunter jumped atop the red bull. That… that was it.
“That’s it?” James asked dryly. “That’s their fusion?”
“I mean,” Steve pointed down at the mob. “You’ve got a Jager bomb now, right?” As he spoke, the bull flapped its wings, lifting its body, and the hunter on its back, into the air. The hunter loaded his rifle, and looked down at the ground below him, searching for prey. James mentally ordered the mob to shoot towards the check in counter of the hotel lobby, curious to see what would happen. In response, the mob fired, and projectile rocketed towards the counter. It hit with blinding speed, and then blew up into a small eruption, flames and shrapnel exploding outwards in a radius of about ten feet.
“Okay,” James said, as he observed the damage the un-upgraded mob had done. It wasn’t as cool as the two fusing into a massive minotaur or something, but it was still a lot better than what he’d expected of the mob. And that had been it just being a walking, animated, literal glass of alcohol. That would have been a nightmare to deal with. But a hunter flying atop a bull… he supposed he could deal with that. Especially if the upgrade tree was anything like the kind he’d come to expect of DCO.
“I suppose I can’t complain about the Jaeger Bomb.” James said as he mentally unsummoned the mob. He went to the next on the list, a mob that cost 32 points. It was labeled as LMFAO Shot. “How about the next mob?”
He summoned it, and this time, the mob, unfortunately, met his expectations. The hope that had been building, following the show of the Jaeger Bomb, had immediately been dashed by what he could only envision was drunken stupidity. “Damnit Steve.”