Chapter 67: Cooperation

Saturday, April 15th, 2:36 AM

Dungeon Ciara

Something that caught my eye about the people at the high school was that more than half of them were bald.

Maybe it’s radiation sickness?

I got the sinking feeling that it was.

At around 3AM, when the helicopters were thirty kilometers away, I opened forty individual minion tunnels to let the Devilflies and Murder hornets out. Four hornets streaked through the darkness toward barrel fires outside the exits of the gymnasium, to await my command. The rest landed at the edges of the mostly-circular classroom building’s roof.

The Devilflies flew in through broken windows and flitted about around barrel fires that dimly lit the insides of classrooms and offices the One World Order used as sleeping and breeding quarters.

Each Devilfly had orders to be as gentle and stealthy as possible.

They waited patiently for guards to pass before landing on filthy bedding beside the traitors to duck and daintily bite through exposed skin before moving to their next target. Fortunately for this operation, the traitors had all their prisoners locked away in the school gymnasium, which I’d confirmed by listening over the course of the two hours it took for my minions to arrive.

Reaper spiders located eight active guards roaming the building and found their way onto jackets, then climbed to reach the men’s collars where they waited. Inside the classrooms, the last of those sleeping were envenomated by my Devilflies. None had awakened yet.

Once everything was in place, I ordered the hornets to make their move.

As they arrived to sting and bite, the Reaper spiders leaped onto necks and sank their fangs into soft flesh. Their screams drew attention from the guards at the gymnasium, who shared a glance and stepped toward the classrooms before yelling in pain and swatting at their necks after my hornets had struck and flown away.

I couldn’t see inside the gym, but I’d been watching and I knew the doors were barred from the outside. It was unlikely any traitors had remained inside. The building was eerily quiet despite the screaming from the nearby classrooms.

The screaming ebbed and my minions returned to formation to wait inside my tunnels while twelve helicopters arrived with marines and navy seals.

Joe and Mike were first out the rear of a Chinook, followed by the eighteen marines Joe had trained. With their empowered bodies, they quickly surrounded the gym and timed the breaching of the doors.

Three teams used battering rams while Joe ripped one of the steel emergency exit doors clean off its hinges and tossed it aside, and the troops flowed inside.

Terrified shrieks were followed by silence, then sniffling and crying as all the prisoners were herded to five Chinook helicopters and flown away to the south. All but four of the 217 women and girls who exited the gym had lost their hair.

Joe, Mike, and the marines who had classes stormed the main building of the high school. I couldn’t see what was happening due to all the human interference with my ability to tunnel, but after a minute, I heard gunfire.

Shit. I hope they’re okay.

A few minutes later, the marines exited with two more prisoners, with many carrying extra firearms.

After the last two prisoners were sent away on another helicopter, the troops who remained set about clearing weapons from the building.

Once the operation was done, they stopped using hand signals and started talking.

I saw Joe pass by one of my tunnels.

[How did we do?]

Joe replied, “You took out 326 traitors here, Ciara. Only their leader was left. Bastard was probably former military. He shot one of the women in the chest as we breached the room, but Master Guns put a round through his head and I was able to heal her.”

Mike and Joe each passed a few rifles to a crew member on the Venom helicopter they’d arrived in.

The other marines trotted up from behind. One of them said, “Building is clear, sir.”

The lieutenant who’d led the strike said, “Good work. Okay marines, let’s load up. Elliott, I need a head-count. Let’s exfil and RTB.”

"Glad to hear it," Mike muttered. "Returning to base… that sounds like heaven. This kind of shit wears you out."

The lieutenant glanced at Mike and Joe. All three nodded with hard eyes.

Twenty-five minutes after they were airborne, they’d landed at the new helicopter airfield I constructed on the opposite side of the harbor.

After their debriefing, Mike said, “So, Ciara… in case you weren’t listening, we didn’t lose any prisoners, but those girls are gonna need rehab. Their hair’s mostly gone and they were drugged out of their skulls. Bastards had them on something strong. Maybe heroin.”

[What the hell is wrong with these bastards?]

While they walked toward the castle, Mike sucked at his teeth, then said, “We’ve seen shit like this all around the world, Ciara. Some places can be pleasant, but others are hell-holes run by warlords and cartels. It depends on who’s in charge. The world’s got plenty of amoral people. With no authority to keep them in check, the greedy and power-hungry will always do whatever they feel like doing.”

Joe added, “Murder, robbery, intimidation, extortion, slavery, exploitation—I could go on, but I’ve seen more than enough for tonight. Siobhán’s worried as hell. Pretty sure I woke her up with how this shit makes me feel.”

Mike put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “She’s a sweet girl.”

Joe glanced at Mike and gave him a half-smile. “Yeah. Never thought I could get lucky again, but Siobhán proved me wrong.”

“I’m glad.” Mike looked down.

Joe said, “Hey. If they’re out there, we’ll find them.”

“Yeah. Now I understand the expressions I’ve seen on people’s faces, when they’re just dead inside. Wish I didn’t.”

[We’re here for you, Mike. I know I can’t hug you, but I would if I were still human.] I couldn’t keep my voice steady.

“I appreciate it, Ciara. Times like this, you still sound human.”

[Thanks, Mike… You’re a good man. I would’ve liked to meet you in-person, if I were still alive. I mean, I know I’m still technically alive, but—you know what I mean.]

Joe stopped walking and waved his eyebrows at Mike.

Mike slugged Joe in the shoulder and narrowed his eyes, chuckling slightly.

[Did I miss something?]

“I’ve been wondering what you looked like before the war, Ciara?” Joe rubbed his chin.

[Um. I was shorter than Soybean but just as slender with smaller boobs and similar hair color, but not very pretty. I can’t believe I just told you that without stuttering. Before I became a Dungeon, I was super shy. Anyway, why do you ask?]

“Oh, I was just thinking that you and—” Joe began with a widening smile.

“Not a word.” Mike cut him off with a glare, but his eyes weren’t angry.

“Aye, Master Guns.” Joe smoothed his face, but a hint of amusement shone in his eyes.

“Anyway,” Mike continued, “after enough time in the shit, you realize that, whether it’s in the heat of the moment or premeditated and regardless of severity, every person is capable of doing awful things.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier to see it,” said Joe.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“No, it damn sure doesn’t. Especially when enough of them start working together.”

[I can agree with that. I wish we had an easier, less-violent solution to everything. I hope you both sleep well. Oh… Once everyone’s done with breakfast tomorrow, I’m going to pull my minions back to create my fourth-floor boss. They’ll be far enough away that nobody will be in danger, but I want you to have a heads-up in advance so you’ll expect it.]

As they neared the castle, Mike replied, “Much appreciated, but make sure to let the President know as well. He’s not familiar with your… tantrums.”

[Ugh. I hate that you call them that, but you’re not wrong. Sleep well, you two.]

“Night,” they said in unison as they entered the castle.

Siobhán threw the covers off and leaped up naked after their bedroom door closed. She picked Joe up, causing him to chuckle as she struggled to keep her balance. After she carried him back to their bed, Siobhán tossed him to the middle of the mattress, climbed on top with her legs around his hips, and showered him with kisses.

“My boots are still on,” Joe protested.

“I don’t care.” Siobhán reached down and ran her hand over Joe’s crotch, gave his rising anatomy a playful squeeze, then unbuckled his belt. “I need you right now.”

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After they’d eaten, those freed from the school in Pacifica passed out from clear exhaustion. They piled together onto soft beds of Elven make inside eight large and previously-unoccupied houses built by Bruce and his crew.

It astounded me how quickly Bruce’s team of awakened had grown to more than forty people already, and with their skills, they raised more than two dozen houses the previous day, in addition to finishing three large barracks for the three main branches of the military—Army, Navy, and Air Force. The Marine Corps was currently sharing space in the Navy’s building, though there were plans for a fourth structure beside the first three.

Two awakened men on Bruce’s construction crew were Stoneshapers, revealing what Emmanuel’s class had likely been. It turned out they were unable to affect my Dungeon like he did, so it’s possible that Emmanuel had been stronger. But they were able to construct fortified bunkers of stone beneath each of the barracks, to provide shelter in the event of another nuclear conflict.

Given the swift pace at which the awakened could build structures, it was no surprise that Twin Lakes had houses ready for the former captives. After they ate mana-infused kiwi fruit from my orchard, its medicinal property of calming the mind helped them to sleep properly.

Alchemists from the Adventurer’s Guild were already searching for a brew that could wipe trauma from the mind, but nothing promising had been found thus far. Following the war and everything that had happened to people since it began, there were few who lacked recent mental health problems of one sort or another, so it was a worthwhile pursuit.

I expanded my original mining tunnel that opened to the beach and added dozens of additional ore deposits, including eight of every common metal and two each for precious metals and rare earths.

With the assistance of Mike and other smiths who had classes, engineers from the military had helped to expand the workshops to fill all four rooms.

A process for reinforcing the existing structure of warships and other vehicles was taught to several maintenance crew, and, following successful testing on Captain Dan’s trawler and two other small vessels, work was slated to begin on the aircraft carrier that moved continuously out in the bay.

Propulsion systems based on hearthstones and forgestones were still being prototyped and tested at a small scale, so all the Navy’s ships were still under conventional power for now.

Several tenders and smaller warships like frigates had pulled in to dock, and I overheard that there were seven nuclear-powered submarines on patrol to help keep the bay secure.

To my surprise, rather than making use of the weapons gathered from the One World Order, they were set aside to be melted down for use in new designs that combined magic and technology. Those things were still being tinkered with, but the military brass were optimistic about what could be created.

While the majority of humans slept the remainder of the night away, I prepped my fourth floor for completion. Glacial caves and snowy hills had been formed into a tremendous and intentionally-confusing maze spanning a two-by-three-kilometer area that faced northwest from its entrance. I added boulders across some of the open areas, then shaped several tunnel-mazes and seeded those with mining resources.

My nonhuman denizens were numerous enough to provide a considerable and relatively-steady mana income as they hunted each other. It made my instinct purr with contentment every time the thought entered my mind. While the mana was less than a tenth of what I could burn if I worked hard with my powers, it was already far beyond the amount I’d received from my crabs when I only had one floor.

Round-the-clock mining conducted by the military was a huge boon, and, although there were fewer than a dozen miners tasked with gathering at night, they supplied almost double the amount of mana I received from denizens hunting one another. In the daytime, the output skyrocketed as the number of miners more than tripled.

Though the morning was colder than usual as the sun arose, my human denizens were bustling with activity.

Some of the larger helicopters came and went on a regular schedule, ferrying cargo and people to the area as breakfast was started in the mess halls of all three barracks by a trio of awakened chefs. Several cooks from the vessels that were docked in my protected harbor assisted as fruits, vegetables, and meats gathered from the surface and my first floor were removed from enormous refrigeration and freezer rooms.

I wished I could smell and taste the foods they prepared, though I had to admit the mana brought in every so often by my krakens and Deep Horrors was absolutely delectable.

Once my residents were finished eating, I addressed them.

[I’m going to create a floor boss for my fourth floor. Most of you are familiar with what happens, as it drains my mana close to zero for a moment and my hunger takes over. You’ll hear me shouting for minions to kill anything and everything until those who are holding prey from the ocean kill enough of their catch to bring my mana back up to reasonable levels.]

My longer-term residents didn’t show any sign of concern.

Colonel Hart cocked his head and his grip tightened on his fork as he ate, but otherwise he remained quiet while eating.

“Thank you for the heads-up. Are your minions far enough away to prevent casualties?” asked President Thomas.

[All my minions have been pulled way back for now. None of them will have time to reach anyone. This won’t take long.]

This time, I’d opted to wait before populating my newest floor, in case I might gain better options for minion creation.

I gave the order for my core to shift down, and my mana capacity doubled once again.

Along with those messages, I received a hammer-blow to my perception. While I lacked a head that could ache, the feeling in my consciousness was similar. A sickly, roiling, dark-green nest of ethereal snakes churned around one particular person, assaulting me with something between fear and fury. It throbbed against a sense I’d never had. Tony Marchant was the source of foreign mana, confirming my suspicion that he was connected to our greater enemy.

So, Tony and Karen were keeping Sven away? Okay, that asshole is dead.

It was no trouble to maintain control as my mana filled at a decent clip.

Both my Canopy Crawlers bit Tony’s neck and injected a flood of potent venom under high pressure.

Tony shrieked and wailed, struggling against his silk bindings. But he grew lethargic after a few seconds. It took less than half a minute for him to die.

“Finally!” Sven appeared by my core. He stared at me and shook his head. “Ciara, I have a lot to tell you and your residents. Gather them in a private location.”

[Okay, Scaly. It’s good to see you, too. Everyone, Sven’s back. I need all my human residents in the castle’s main hall as soon as you can get there. I still need to create my boss, so be ready for that.]

While they moved, I hurried to finish the task I’d set for myself. Given the cold environment of my fourth floor, I opted for something with fur for the boss. Another massive Palomar tiger spawned in what would soon be my new core room—a large circular arena with my core set into its ceiling among dozens of fakes. I added several large boulders that could conceal my boss from attackers. This tiger received a Mental augmentation.

Once my mana had refilled, I gave him a name that I knew Siobhán would love. It wasn’t my most imaginative name, since it was the word for cat in Japanese. But it sounded nice, so I went with it.

Neko.

The hunger hit hard, but my rage lasted only a few seconds before I regained control as my crabs, bass, and enormous cephalopods slaughtered their catch. My minions were ordered back to their usual places and routines, and life continued on without a hitch.

President Thomas twitched one eye as he entered the castle, but showed no further sign of concern once I’d calmed.

[Creator. I await your command,] the huge cat sent.

[Ah, you can speak, Neko. Excellent.]

I sent my newest boss mental orders to guard the new core room and he settled down to hide away from the entrance with his ears perked up.

“ProfCon, did you just call someone cat in Japanese?” Siobhán asked as she and Joe walked into the main hall of the castle.

[I did. Neko is my newest floor boss.]

Siobhán’s eyes brightened. She snickered and leaped sprightly to peck Joe on the cheek.

Joe pulled her against his side for a moment, and they sat down.

Sven appeared above the table, startling the President and Colonel Hart. The drake’s usual smile was lacking, making him appear far more menacing than I was used to.

“Greetings, humans. I am Sven, and I come with tidings…”

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Floors: 5

Minions: 411/600

Residents: 12/20

Denizens: 1.42M

Traps: 10/25