Circumstantial Unfortunace

Chapter 3

The Hood left me with my thoughts for a few much-needed minutes. Less to think or plot so much as just absorb. I'd learned a lot, but the basic scenario hadn't changed. Finally, I sighed. Everything circled back to one critical question.

"Okay, I got a backdoor invitation. Can I decline it now, and if I do, what happens to me?" I asked. The Hood looked at me sympathetically but shook his head.

"In the case of a glitched invite, you can only avoid it by escaping or death. Since you've already killed the original candidate, I'm afraid you're out of options," the Hood explained. I'd expected him to say as much but still felt sick. From the moment the message appeared on my windshield, I'd felt a persistent dread. This was a rigged game.

"You'll have to choose a job and be placed. After that, how you choose to proceed is up to you," the Hood continued gravely. The latter half of what he said suggested I could get out of doing anything unfortunate, but his tone crushed that idea.

"So I have to kill people?" I asked bluntly. Dungeons and demon lords were not benevolent things. At least not in the kinds of books I read. More importantly, the system wasn't giving me any reason to think it had friendly intentions.

Not given who its first choice of candidate was. Or how I was selected, for that matter. Survival of the fittest was not benevolent on any level.

"The short answer is yes, especially if you want to live more than a few weeks," the Hood clarified.

Did I want to live?

That was a serious question at the moment. Thankfully the Hood didn't pressure me for an answer. He let me take my time processing things once again. I didn't understand why he was being this patient but didn't question that part. I felt like that was a gift horse I should just accept.

"Can I ask some questions before I choose?" I asked hesitantly. It was uncomfortable to admit, but I was fond of living enough that I couldn't simply give up.

"Please, take your time. I'll tell you what I can," the Hood replied. I nodded. Even if his actions had an ulterior motive, I appreciated even a facade of kindness now.

"You said "management" and "dungeon" earlier. I got a sim vibe from that," I began carefully. He hadn't mentioned details. Creative control was all fine and good, but I needed to know what I'd actually be doing.

"Is that the right idea? I'd be designing the layout and filling it with monsters but not fighting personally?" I asked, hoping I was right.

"Exactly," the Hood agreed.

"You'll build it using an interface like a game. It's an extension of the system," the Hood paused when he noticed I flinched. I wasn't a big fan of the system at the moment.

"It will grow in power as you gain points and invest in it. With it, you can control everything within your domain and bend it to your will," he continued.

"And a demon lord?" I asked, not sure where to start with that one. I wasn't holding out hope that it would turn into a dream job somehow.

"It's based on personal growth and acquisition of territory. You can gain points through slaying enemies, growing your forces, and conquest," the Hood explained.

"It's a heavily social role, but you get to customize your growth, special abilities, and have access to unique bloodline templates," he continued.

Templates. That really harkened back to my tabletop RPG days. Even though it had been years since I'd had that kind of time, I remembered the basics. They'd been all but etched into my bones by long weekends spent around a battle mat.

It was weird to think that an old hobby might have been priming me for this situation. Was that intentional?

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"This reminds me of the RPGs I used to play," I said as I mulled my new question over.

"It's very similar by design," the Hood agreed.

"The return on investment isn't good, but we put out a lot of games to indoctrinate your species," he added.

I blinked. I'd just been wondering about that and he'd confirmed it casually.

"Really?" I asked because I couldn't help it.

"The majority of candidates don't play. The ones who do seem to only understand FPS or dating sims," the Hood said, sounding tired.

"Most of them can do the job anyway, but... they tend to have strange expectations," he added with a note of distaste.

"They want all the waifus?" I asked, making the Hood flinch. I'd hit a nerve.

I had nothing against gamers of any kind, but all hobbies had their unfortunate practitioners. Those kinds of games also had a rep for attracting a particular breed of awful. A shiver rolled down my spine as I imagined my former passenger demanding Excalibur and a loli harem.

That vomit-inducing thought made me feel a little sympathetic toward the Hood once again. I knew that was a mistake on a fundamental level. Yet, I couldn't deny an instinctive comradery as one who'd worked my share of shitty customer service jobs.

"Is it going to be a sword and sorcery situation no matter what I pick?" I asked. I couldn't shake the RPG vibe I was getting. A high-tech dungeon with an AI controller was valid too, but I felt like that wouldn't be the case. Moreso for a demon lord. To be fair, you could fudge that by attaching a sound-alike species name in a space opera.

"All of our current placements are, so yes," The Hood agreed.

"Okay… are there any specific drawbacks I should be aware of before choosing?" I asked.

"Both dungeons and demon lords have to acquire points before the end of the first calendar year after placement. If you fail, you'll be penalized, but that's not my department, so I don't know how," the Hood said, sounding a little uncomfortable.

"I wouldn't assume it's a painless death, though. The system isn't particularly kind to those who don't like to play along," he added. I nodded, not needing to be convinced.

"So, would I be dropped in during the first month?" I asked. It was a graceless pivot, but something the Hood said nagged at me. Calendar year meant the when mattered a great deal. The Hood smiled despite not having a face. I still wasn't used to feeling an expression and shivered.

"Not many catch that..." the Hood said as he looked away. He turned to type something into what looked like a steampunk laptop. I looked at it with envy, admiring the brass and cogs.

"Uhm, so..." I started but didn't know what to say. The Hood kept working for a few minutes then looked back to me finally.

"I apologize. It's determined randomly after you pick a job," the Hood explained.

"Will you tell me once I do?" I countered.

"... Yes," the Hood said after a pause. I nodded and tried to come up with what to ask next. It should have been easy. There were a lot more questions that I should ask. Instead, I sat quietly, rolling the cool can of soda in between my hands.

"Are you alright?" the Hood asked after a while.

"Still trying to get my head around working for the forces of evil," I said after a long pause. The Hood didn't say anything at first, his hands tapping out an odd broken rhythm on his desk.

"You're being tasked to do evil things, but I don't represent Evil, nor am I doing placements for them," the Hood said finally.

"Huh?" I made a questioning sound as my brain short-circuited. I understood that he was drawing a line. I just didn't get why it mattered.

"Just… Did you have another question?" the Hood asked, then sighed. I should have, and a few came to mind, but I let them die unspoken. It was probably the suppression at work, but I had an inexplicable feeling that I'd found out as much as I'd be allowed to know at this moment.

That was enough to stop me from asking about things I wanted to know. The rest I was ignoring because I simply didn't want the answers to them. They were things like how the sides were balanced and what would happen if one won. It wouldn't do anything to make me less responsible later, but I desired the bliss of ignorance on the point.

I took a sip of soda while I sorted out my future plans. The soda that had been cherry vanilla and now tasted like an orange one somehow. I looked from the beverage to the Hood questioningly.

"Hm? Oh, I microbrew as a hobby. A little bit of chaos in a can," he said, tone brighter than before. I guess he took pride in his creation. I looked back down at the can with a conflicted gaze, but not for long.

I'd already drunk half of it and was about to formally join the forces of Chaos. I might as well just enjoy my lemon-lime soda while I could.

"Alright, I've decided that I'll be a dungeon," I said and then finished the strawberry soda in one go. The situation wasn't one I'd asked for or become a part of willingly, but that didn't matter. All I could do was make a choice. After that, it would be up to me to make the best of it.

"Alright, I'll get a demon lord placement re-" the Hood stopped, head whipping back toward me.

"You want to be a dungeon?" he asked.

"Yeah?" I replied. I wasn't bothered by his question but surprised by his tone. He sounded like a kid who was worried you were teasing him. That you'd snatch back the candy you'd just offered.

"It suits me better than Demon Lord, at least," I added. I couldn't be sure about other aspects, but I knew that I didn't want to kill things the old-fashioned way.

"Excellent! You have style and smarts," the Hood cried happily as he stood and thrust his hand toward me. I took his hand out of conditioned reflex and instantly regretted it.

As my hand touched his, there was an electric pulse that filled my head with static. It was like an old bunny ear antenna tv caught between channels. The crackling hum was laced with an incomprehensible cacophony of voices.

Nausea overtook me as my vision swam, but the Hood didn't look affected. He carried on and shook my hand so hard the force of it traveled through my entire being. My vision smeared as the static crescendoed to a deafening roar.