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Chapter 56: Visitors

Chapter 56: Visitors

Thursday, April 6th, 6:23 AM

Dungeon Ciara

Joe had just climbed onto Siobhán, who bit her bottom lip as she prepared to receive him.

The Adventurer’s Guild would start up today, and there was a lot more work to do on the housing, so Siobhán had awakened Joe early for a quickie before they started their day. Joe wasn’t going to complain about having his mind blown again.

[Everyone, there are helicopters coming. A lot of them, and they look like they’re from the military.]

Joe sighed. He had just eased himself into Siobhán’s entrance, but he immediately got up to get dressed.

Through their connection, he could feel that Siobhán understood, though she was just as disappointed as Joe about their morning activities being cut short just before the main event.

She’s a better woman than I hoped.

“I love you too, Joe.” Siobhán smiled as she got up to throw her clothes on.

Nita abseiled from the ceiling after Siobhán was dressed, and Joe frowned.

“Uh, this isn’t a good time to bring Nita,” said Joe.

“Oh. Good point,” Siobhán replied, and Nita climbed back to the ceiling.

For that matter…

“Ciara, you should make sure your dogs, cats, and minions are all inside. Let me and Mike find out who’s here and what the situation is before we spring the talking animals on them,” Joe cautioned.

[I already have. But thank you for the reminder. Everyone, I’d appreciate if you try to make this a peaceful meeting.]

Joe nodded as he and Siobhán finished using the restroom. “Good. Maybe we can figure something out. Shit’s likely to get interesting once the government finds out what you can do.”

[If they insist on staying, just tell them I’m willing to help out, as long as they’ll respect my rights as a US Citizen. I’m not joining the military, but I’ll do what I can to help the country rebuild…]

Ciara detailed a plan she had for revealing things slowly enough that the military wouldn’t be as likely to misread the situation.

“Fair enough,” Joe replied as they exited their new room in the castle.

We’ll see. Once the government gets involved, they’ll probably…

“Joe, you’re uncomfortable. What’s wrong?” Siobhán asked, squeezing his hand as they fell in alongside the other residents and headed outside.

Joe raised his eyebrows. “Just wondering what kind of situation we’re in. Everyone, let Mike do the talking.”

Ten UH-1Y Venom helicopters had landed on the beach alongside two massive Chinooks, and troops were securing their landing zone.

A group of marines rushed toward their group.

“Hands in the air,” said Mike. “Show them we’re not a threat.”

The group complied, though Joe felt Siobhán’s apprehension.

“It’s okay,” he reassured her as he recognized a face.

The marines drew near, eyeing them all warily until one among them held up a hand.

“You fuckin’ kidding me? Master Guns Elliott? Gunny Schimpf?” “At ease, marines. They’re ours!” Weapons were lowered and faces relaxed. “Colonel Hart’s gonna lose his shit when he finds out you survived!” He turned to his squad. “Radio the Captain. Tell him we’ve located Gunnery Sergeant Schimpf and Master Gunnery Sergeant Elliott—alive.”

“Damn good to see you, Robinson,” Mike strode forward and grabbed the man’s hand.

“Master Guns, what the hell is this place? Why’s the water so clear?” Robinson asked.

“You won’t fuckin’ believe it when I tell you. Best if the Colonel’s around to hear.”

Robinson nodded.

Mike asked, “What’s our situation?”

Robinson sighed. “Classified. You and Schimpf should come with me, the Colonel can tell you more.”

“Right. Why don’t you all get some breakfast? We’ll come find you as soon as we’re done,” Mike told the others.

Siobhán frowned, and Joe felt her anxiety. He hugged her and whispered, “It’ll be okay.”

She nodded and her fear eased, though she pressed her lips and Joe felt a pang of longing from her as he turned to follow Sergeant Robinson and the others to the Landing Zone.

As they approached the nearest Chinook, Mike and Joe saluted Colonel Hart.

“I’ll be God-damned,” said Hart as he returned their salute, then chuckled. “Damn shame about your retirement, Elliott.”

“Aye, sir. Is what it is, sir.” Mike shrugged.

Hart nodded. “At ease, marines. What the hell is this place, Elliott? Are there hostiles?”

Mike shook his head. “No hostiles, sir. The surface is secure. We’ve cleaned up the One World Order in this vicinity to the best of my knowledge.”

“Smith,” said Hart.

The Captain behind him said, “Aye, sir?”

“You heard Elliott?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Get word to Washington and our men on the ground.”

Hart turned back to Mike and raised his eyebrows.

“Regarding what this place is, you won’t fucking believe it if I told you, so, a demonstration is in order. Do I have your permission, sir?”

Hart locked eyes with Mike. “You do. Show me how the hell ground zero in this town is radiation-free, green, and full of people one month after the bomb.”

“We’re headed to the castle, sir. If you’ll follow me?”

“What’s our purpose there, Mike?”

“To retrieve my weapon for one hell of a demonstration, sir.”

“Why not use one of ours? Sergeant Robinson, secure a weapon for Elliott.”

Mike spoke immediately, “That won’t be necessary, sir. This weapon’s special. You’re gonna shit your pants when you see what this thing can do.”

“Hah. I look forward to that. Carry on. Smith, get the word out that we’re having a live-fire demonstration by Elliott.”

Captain Smith saluted.

They arrived at the castle a few minutes later, with Lieutenant Hanford’s platoon guarding as Mike dashed inside to retrieve his bow and arrows.

“I’m sorry, Schimpf. Anna was a good woman,” Colonel Hart rested his hand on Joe’s shoulder.

“Aye, sir. She was.” Joe managed a half-smile.

“Please follow me, sir,” said Mike, stepping out of the castle with his bow and the other residents. Some of the marines could be heard whispering as the women appeared.

“Who do we have here?” asked Hart.

Mike replied, “My son, Michael. His fiancée, Rihelah, Joy, and Siobhán. They’re all necessary for the demonstration, sir. I’m going to request that all of you prepare to witness something you’ve never seen, and that you hold your fire. You’re going to see animals that seem a little large, out of place, or who may show qualities you’re not used to. Shit’s about to get weird.”

“A bow and arrows? Are you feeling okay, Elliott?” Hart asked.

“If you’ll direct your attention to the lagoon, sir.” Mike pointed, then nocked an arrow as a sizable boulder rose from the water.

“What the hell?” Hart muttered.

Mike drew back smoothly and loosed his arrow. The air cracked at its passing. Near-instantly, the boulder exploded, showering the lagoon with shrapnel.

“Elliott! What the hell? You plant a charge in that thing?”

“No, sir. If you’ll pick a tree, I can demonstrate again.”

“Fourth walnut from the right.” Hart pointed.

Mike fired another arrow, the air split again, and the walnut tree’s trunk exploded like the boulder. Then Ciara grew the tree back over several seconds.

Most of the marines muttered under their breath.

“How did you do that with the tree? Some kind of optical illusion?” asked Hart.

“No illusions, sir.”

Hart looked askance at Mike’s bow. “Let me see that thing.”

“Aye, sir.” Mike handed the bow to Colonel Hart.

“Sonofabitch! It’s heavy. Pass me an arrow.”

“Aye, sir.”

Hart nocked the arrow, then tried to draw the bow, but he only managed to pull the spiderstring back an inch, barely budging the heavy spring-steel bow before he let go, and the arrow shot a few hundred feet before splashing into the lagoon.

“Elliott… how in the ninth layer of hell did you draw this thing?” Hart handed the bow back to Mike.

“Sir, the demonstration was necessary to showcase not only the weapon’s destructive power, but the fact that my strength is considerably higher than before the war began.”

“No shit. What happened?”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Well, sir…”

“You’re shitting me. Even these young ladies?” Hart looked at Siobhán in particular.

“Aye, sir. Will you permit another demonstration by one of our civilians?”

Hart nodded slowly, rubbing his chin.

“Siobhán, if you’d care to demonstrate the combat techniques Gunnery Sergeant Schimpf taught you?”

“Any volunteers willing to take this young lady on, hand-to-hand?”

“You gotta be kidding me?” a man nearly as tall as Joe muttered.

Mike answered him, “I am not kidding you, marine. Anyone up for the challenge?”

The man looked troubled. “She’s five feet tall, and a buck-o-five at best.”

“Yes, she is. And I guarantee she can whip the shit out of any of you. Any takers?”

“I opened my big mouth, Master Guns. I’ll take the risk of eating my words,” the man said.

“Good answer, son. Hand-off your weapon and approach the young lady.”

“He seems nice. I’ll try not to hurt him,” Siobhán whispered as he approached.

Joe grinned. He could feel her excitement at the prospect of sparring with another marine.

Mike said, “This is a full-submission bout. All strikes are allowed, and you don’t have to worry about harming the young lady. We have a medic on hand in case either of you are injured. Corporal, initiate combat.”

“Aye, Master Guns,” said the corporal.

The corporal rushed forward, and Siobhán side-stepped him with inhuman speed, sticking her small foot out to trip him as he continued past. After tumbling to the street, the big corporal regained his feet and looked incredulously at Siobhán.

Colonel Hart’s eyebrows rose.

“Continue,” said Mike.

This time, he approached slowly, assumed a fighting stance, and took a massive swing at Siobhán. She dodged easily, stepped inside his guard, and planted an elbow in the corporal’s gut before the poor man realized what was happening.

He staggered back and fell to one knee, coughing up blood.

Several marines whispered in amazement.

“Holy fucking shit.”

“You serious?”

“She took out Larson in one hit.”

“Girl’s a damn monster.”

Siobhán covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry! I thought I pulled my strike! I didn’t mean to—”

“Schimpf. Heal him,” said Mike.

“Aye, Master Guns.”

Joe placed a hand on the corporal’s shoulder. There was a flash of golden light, and Corporal Larson stood, staring at Joe with wide eyes.

“Elliott, Schimpf… what the hell’s going on?” growled Hart.

“Magic, sir.”

Hart looked askance at Mike, then approached the man Siobhán had struck. “By God… Corporal Larson, are you okay, son?”

“Aye, sir. No pain. I think… he really healed me. The young lady hits like a truck, sir.”

Mike chuckled. “She tapped you, son.”

“You serious?” Larson’s eyes widened as they fell on Siobhán, who hid behind Joe.

Mike nodded slowly, then said, “Schimpf, square off with Peterson.”

The marines watched in open-mouthed silence while the pair ran through their usual sparring routine.

Joe and Joy ducked and weaved, dodging and blocking each others’ blows while the sound of the air parting before their fists and feet made the session seem like it had special effects added.

The impact from their strikes, which had become commonplace for Joe and Joy when sparring, pierced the air like miniature thunderclaps.

After ten seconds, they stopped and touched fists respectfully.

Mike said, “Good. Schimpf, you okay with Peterson using her special attack?”

“Roger that,” said Joe.

“Go for it, Peterson. Give Schimpf a solid shot,” said Mike.

“Uh, okay.” Joy darted forward and slammed her fist toward Joe’s chest. He blocked with his right forearm, which frosted over as the skin cracked open.

“Are you shitting me?” Colonel Hart exclaimed.

Joe healed his arm with a flash of golden light, removing the frost in seconds as skin repaired before everyone’s eyes.

“No, sir. Not shitting you. And there’s more. A lot more.”

Joe knew what was coming next, and he looked forward to their reactions.

[Sunny and Sandy, go see the humans outside the castle, but don’t let them take you anywhere without my permission.]

[Okay, Mommy!] they said in unison as they exited the castle.

“Oh, puppies!” One of the marines in front kneeled and put his hands out.

Sunny and Sandy rushed straight to him with tails smacking one another.

[Friend?]

[Smells like friend!]

The marines leaned forward to look at the Labs, who licked the kneeling marine’s hands furiously.

“Elliott… are those dogs talking?” Colonel Hart looked numb. His hand was against his cheek.

Mike replied, “Yes, sir. There are cats that talk as well. Also… the young lady who bested the corporal has a giant spider she controls.”

“She what?” asked Hart.

Siobhán stepped forward and looked up at Colonel Hart with pleading eyes. “Please, don’t let them hurt my Nita. She’s a good girl, and I’ll be sad if anyone tries to harm her, okay?”

“Well, what the hell? Marines, you will stand down. Nobody harms the spider, understood?”

“Aye, sir,” they replied as one, though many looked and sounded disturbed by what was coming.

Three of the marines shrieked and hid behind their friends when Nita walked out of the Castle and climbed onto Siobhán before assuming her usual necklace posture. Corporal Larson seemed more terrified than the rest.

“See? She’s a sweetheart. Even Joe pets her, now.”

Joe sucked in a breath.

Here we go. She’s worth it.

Joe walked forward and gently stroked Nita’s cephalothorax. Though he’d done so once before, he still marveled at how solid and strong the spider felt.

“Has that thing ever shown aggression toward you, Schimpf?” asked Hart as he watched Nita warily.

“I don’t know the spider like Siobhán does, but Nita absolutely follows her commands, sir. She’s never threatened or harmed a good person, to my knowledge.”

“That spider’s attacked people?” Hart’s eyes widened.

“Nita helped us with the One World Order, sir,” Joe spat the organization’s name.

“Ah, those sick fucks. They’re all over the country, you know. We’ve had a hell of a time rooting them out. They’re screwing with our recovery efforts, and it’s estimated they’ve killed millions of survivors nationwide.”

“Joe’s killed hundreds of those traitors, Colonel,” said Siobhán.

Joe felt how proud Siobhán was of him. He longed to hug her but kept control of himself.

“Schimpf, is that true?” asked Hart.

“Aye, sir. With the help of another, I eliminated approximately six-hundred traitors the other day. I can fire those tungsten arrows as well—not as accurately as Master Guns, but mine are just as powerful. The bowstrings were made with Nita’s silk.” Joe pointed at the spider again.

Hart shook his head. “I’ll be damned. Now, the million-dollar question, Schimpf; how in the hell did you all gain these… powers?”

Joe chuckled. “Ever been to a Dungeon, sir?”

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I wasn’t surprised—not after what I’d seen with the students and sailors. A group of nine marines had been invited inside one of the houses by twelve university girls, and, of course, they were having an orgy. Rifles, clothing, and combat gear were strewn everywhere, and I sighed.

Those marines were supposed to be patrolling. How do they know these girls aren’t traitors?

At least I knew. If any of them had been, I’d have eaten them by now.

The marines only stayed in that house for around ten minutes before gearing up and heading back outside, but every one of them had made a deposit inside one of the women.

I wonder if humans will have a reduced gestation period like Mocha did?

My residents were in the fruit yard, showing off my infused delicacies to the marines, whose eyes went crazy when they bit into the mana-laced fruits.

“So, this Dungeon can create more trees like these? And those deposits my men found actually regenerate like this fruit, as they’re harvested?”

“Aye, sir. She can, and they do,” said Joe.

“She?”

Joe explained who I used to be, along with some other details I’d green-lit for the Colonel to learn.

Hart pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This sounds crazy, Schimpf. You said this professor-turned-hole-in-the-ground’s got a subterranean redwood forest?”

“Aye, sir. Roughly four kilometers long. There’s a hot tub down there, too.”

“Unbelievable. And if we hunt these minions of hers, we can harvest materials that Mike and his two friends will infuse into weapons for us?”

“Well, this complicates the literal hell out of things. I’ll need to make a full report, but I can’t do it without proof. I want you both to stay here and watch over this place until I bring back some observers. That’s an order. I’m leaving two squads behind to help out. Protect this place like our country’s future depends on it, because it most likely does. I—”

“Sir?” Mike raised his eyebrows while Hart worked his left leg and kicked it about for a moment.

“I’ll be damned. I was gonna ask you to heal that nagging injury in my knee, Schimpf. But I think that peach did it already. This place really can cure people with chronic conditions?”

“Aye, sir, there’s no doubt.”

“Un-fucking-believable.” Hart squeezed his eyes shut, then stared at Mike and Joe again. “Anyway, those are your orders. Any questions, marines?”

“None, sir,” Joe and Mike answered in unison.

Mike’s smile vanished. “Sir, there’s one more thing we have to tell you…”

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Floors: 3

Minions: 314/360

Residents: 12/16

Denizens: 358991

Traps: 6/15