Carl’s plan was straightforward: intercept Sister Ines before she reached the church, Iglesia de Jesus de Miramar, and engage Ines in card combat to steal her key. They would give Imani the key to the church stairwell, then head to my location to give my team Carl’s key. Carl would then use his Mysterious Bone Key, which he received in a celestial loot box, to get himself and Donut down the stairs.

I was skeptical. The dungeon thrived on theatrics and chaos, and the showrunners weren’t going to let Carl, or any of us, off this floor without their pound of flesh, and Carl's plan, as it was, minimized confrontation. But, then again, Carl Plans had a tendency to devolve into a chaotic mess, which is why they often succeeded. I planned a contingency in case Carl's plan fell apart, but for either of our plans to work, I needed to ensure that Carl intercepted and dealt with Quan before either of them reached Ines. My intuition told me that one of us facing off against Quan was necessary for our success and I would guide Carl straight to him if I had to.

As for Carl’s dubious bone key, I didn’t believe it would work as Carl intended, but that was not my problem. That was a Carl Problem.

I activated a scroll of Eye in the Sky—a potent surveillance spell that revealed every mob, NPC, crawler, and point of interest in Cuba on my map UI for fifteen minutes. The view area was limited to a circle 5 kilometers in radius, but I could move it around. The map swarmed with red dots, hostile mobs, concentrating on the northern coast. I expanded the map to take up my entire HUD and began combing across Cuba for blue dots, representing crawlers, and relayed the information to Carl and Donut.

Ren: There are mobs everywhere—thousands of them. The beaches are overrun and they are moving inland. Ines is on the beach, about 10 kilometers northeast of you. She is surrounded by hundreds of mobs. Hell, one of them is huge. It’s labeled as a city boss. But it’s not moving. None of the red dots are moving.

Ines’s dot was centered on a much larger red dot. I inspected it.

Madre de Aguas

Level 125 City Boss

No additional information was provided.

Carl: And Quan?

In took me a minute to find him. I started from the church stairwell and scanned outwards, choosing routes we suspected he'd take. I didn't see Imani's dot at the church and assumed she was hiding in the saferoom.

Ren: I found him. Heads up—he’s heading straight for you, moving fast. He’s airborne and I think he knows where you are.

Quan received a celestial-tier item, a robe, on the third floor which granted him the ability to fly along with several physical and magic shields. It could absorb a ton of damage before Quan would take so much as a scratch. While there were ways around the shields, Carl could just brute force it with his explosives.

Carl: How soon will he reach us?

Ren: About 5 or 6 minutes if you keep headed the way you are going. How the hell are you moving so fast? Are you in a vehicle?

Donut: WE’RE ON HIS DAD’S MOTORCYCLE. WE’LL FIGHT QUAN WITH HIGH-SPEED COMBAT. IT WILL BE EPIC.

Donut’s idea would have the theatrical appeal that the showrunners and viewers were looking for. However, the T’Ghee card combat system that the game designers had implemented on the eighth floor would complicate such an encounter. The card system allowed us to summon creatures called totems to fight for us. They were far stronger than any crawler but they would be difficult to utilize while flying down the highway.

Ren: As cool as that sounds, Donut, you wouldn’t be able to use your totems. A fight like that would rely solely on your non-totem cards. Quan is a genius with snarl and utility cards, he would have the upperhand.

Donut: GOOD THING HE ONLY HAS ONE OF THEM.

Ren: And how do you plan to hit him? You can’t use your spells while in card combat, and Carl can’t use his bombs or missiles while driving a motorcycle.

Donut: YOU JUST LACK IMAGINATION.

Carl: Ren is right. We’ll stop and set a trap. Keep an eye on Quan, make sure he doesn’t head towards Ines. Notify us if either he or Ines make any odd moves. How much time is left on the spell.

Ren: Ten and a half minutes, I’ll use another if I have to.

Carl: Let's save as many scrolls as we can. We’ll intercept Quan before this one ends. Once he is within 5 kilometers I’ll be able to track him with my Find Crawler. If he flees, we need to know were he ends up. We can go after Ines once Quan is dealt with. I’ll have Samantha keep an eye on her in the meantime.

Ren: Quan’s going to pull something. He wouldn’t be headed straight for you if he didn’t think he would win.

Carl: I don’t doubt it, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve as well. Just keep us updated on his position.

Carl and Donut prepared their ambush, and I continued monitoring both Ines and Quan’s movements. Behind me was an entrance into a saferoom just off to the left of the stairwell entrance. I had sent Khulan and Chuluuna in to rest and reset their buffs and I had asked Mordecai to prepare a potion for Khulan who was still a mess after the fight with the Keyholder. We needed to prepare our own contingency plan to ensure our survival in the likely scenario Carl’s plan failed, but to do that, I needed Khulan in her right mind.

I watched Quan’s marker disappeared from the map.

Ren: Carl, watch out—I think Quan went invisible.

Carl: Donut has eyes on him.

Donut: HE CAN’T HIDE FROM ME. MIGHT AS WELL BE WEARING A GIANT NEON SIGN THAT SAYS I’M A BIGGER CHEATER THAN TSERENDOLGOR.

Donut’s oversized wayfarer sunglasses, oversized for a cat at least, were a gift from their ex-sponsor, the then Princess D’Nadia. They allowed Donut to see invisible creatures and enhancing her Magic Missiles, increasing their precision and allowing her to shoot laser beams out of her eyes. Turing Donut into a cat with goddamn eye lasers.

I also had a gift from D’Nadia, but it wasn’t designed for precision.

Carl planned to use himself and an illusion of Donut as bait, while the real and invisible Donut sniped Quan out of the sky. My role was minimal at this point, I just needed to track Quan in case he fled.

Carl: He’s almost in position. Going silent.

Ren: Keep me updated.

A moment later I saw Quan’s marker appear and plummet to the ground, struck by whatever Donut had hit him with. I saw Donut’s marker appear and knew she had started card combat. Quan was skilled with the T’Ghee cards, but Donut had some of the most power totems of any crawler. She and Carl had captured literal demi-gods: one looked like a jacked Bob Marley with a bazooka, and the other was a giant woman-headed spider straight out of a nightmare.

I held my breath. This fight wouldn’t last more than a minute.

As it was, it lasted only a few seconds.

Donut: WAIT, WHAT IS HE DOING? HEY, THOSE ARE MINE. THAT’S CHEATING, HE’S—

Donut’s dots disappeared. It reappeared 15 kilometers away, along with Carl’s marker.

Donut had played a Flee card.

Ren: Donut, what the fuck was that!

Donut: HE STOLE MY CARDS AND MADE ME PLAY A FLEE CARD. HE WAS CHEATING

Even if Quan had forced Donut to flee, that didn’t change the outcome. Under the rules of the third phase, squads with stairwell keys would forfeit the key to the opposing squad if they used a Flee card. Quan had just used a card mechanic to steal Carl and Donut’s key without even having to fight. Cowardly, but genius.

Carl: He used a combo, Three for Three, and a consumable called Forced Play. Where’s he headed now?

Ren: He’s headed straight for us? What the hell? I thought he would go for Ines next.

Carl: I cast my Super Spreader on him. He’s infected with Slug Pox. He’ll be leaking slugs and it’ll eventually kill him if he doesn’t find a cleric in time.

Donut: THAT’S DISGUSTING CARL. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GET THAT TREATED WEEKS AGO.

Carl: Ren, he’ll be distracted, but he’ll likely try the same trick against you. Do you have a way to counter it?

Ren: I can counter it. Unlike Donut, I’m pretty good with card games.

Donut: HEY. YOU SHOULD BE THANKING US. NOW YOU CAN CHEAT AGAINST QUAN. JUST LIKE WITH EVERYTHING ELSE YOU DO.

Ren: You’re right Donut, I should be thankful. Remind me to thank Quan. He’s delivering the key to us after all.

Donut: HOW ABOUT I DELIVER A FIREBALL TO YOUR FACE.

Carl: Be careful, he’ll likely be invisible.

Ren: Chuluuna will be able to see him and Khulan has spells that can bypass his shields. I think she can even do something with the slugs pox. And even if he slips past us, I got a surprise for him waiting by the stairwell.

Carl: Be careful placing traps so close to the exit. The stairwells are indestructible, but they'll be hard to reach if you bring the building down on top of them.

Ren: Don’t worry, these are not explosives. Mordecai and I whipped up something special.

Carl: What about Ines? Where is she now?

Ren: She’s still on the beach. She’s up to something, I’m sure, but I can’t tell from the map. I only have a few minutes left on my spell.

Donut: SAMANTHA SAYS SHE IS CHARMING A GIANT SEA SERPENT AND RAISING AN ARMY OF ZOMBIES. I TOLD CARL TO KILL HER WHEN WE FIRST MET BUT HE WAS LIKE, NO, THAT’S NOT WHAT WE DO. WELL NOW LOOK.

Carl: Are you sure you can handle Quan? I can be there in a matter of minutes to help you.

Ren: Jesus, Carl, you should handle Ines before whatever this is gets out of control. Once she’s out of the way, then you can consider joining us, assuming we haven’t already dealt with Quan.

I didn't want Carl's help. Note just because I was worried that the showrunners or dungeon AI would try to pull something once we were together, but also because I hated being so reliant on the man. I wanted to set my own stage for once. Be the one in control.

Carl: Okay. Be careful and keep me updated.

I closed my HUD, returning my attention to my surroundings. I unholstered my flamethrower and propped it against my shoulder.

“Well, Velma, looks like you’ll finally get to meet Quan. We should give him a warm welcome,” I said, half for the benefit of my viewers, half to coax Velma into conversation. She had blocked me in chat and been sulking in silence ever since our last disagreement.

No response came. Seemed like I could get everyone but my own team to speak to me.

“Come on, Velma, don’t be like that. We got work to do, and you love a good roast.”

That seemed to get a reaction from the weapon.

Velma: Puns? Really, Ren? And here I thought you couldn’t stoop any lower.

“I’ve got more where those came from.”

Velma: Oh joy. I’ll alert the media. Now, are we going to set someone on fire this time, or are you planning to bore him to death with your wit?

“Can’t it be both?” I replied, smiling despite myself.

Velma had, at one time, been an M2-Flamethrower built sometime in the 1950s and later modified by two twins in Arizona for a zombie apocalypse that never came. They had given Velma a modular design and an adjustable nozzle, naming her after the brainy Scooby-Doo character because she was good at solving problems—with fire. She had been collected during the collapse and awarded to me in a gold arsonist box after I torched a burrow boss with a lighter and can of hairspray. And a lot of gasoline.

After a weapon upgrade I received at the end of the fifth floor, Velma had undergone a significant transformation. She now resembled something a Star Wars Flametrooper might carry, complete with a matted military green finish. Her tank was mounted to the back of my breastplate which had doubled as a fire jacket, fitted with a mechanical support arm I could attach her to in order to wield her one-handed, which was useful for card combat.

In the World Dungeon's fantasy setting, Velma's stark, military aesthetic stood out, complementing my own G.I. Jane-inspired look—if Jane were a Gnoll.

Mercenary classes like my Arcane Arsonist or Florin’s Shotgun Messiah were prime targets for sentient weapons because of the class skill Weapon Bond. It allowed the weapon’s power to scale with the crawler’s level and stats, along with several other features, making it a solid build for both early and deeper floors. But these classes were often too boring and straightforward for the viewers, which was why it was common to give their weapons a problematic personalities. To spice things up.

Because wouldn't it be funny to give a superweapon a bad attitude?

Velma’s sentience, a twist introduced by the fifth floor upgrade, made her more than just a powerful piece of equipment; she was my partner. Albeit a challenging one. She could adjust her fuel flow and correct my aim to maximize our efficiency, but our debates over strategy often grew heated. Velma's single-minded desire to burn anything and everything constantly pushed against my more cautious tactics.

Velma: This is an ideal situation to use the collar that the Empress gave you. Your first time meeting this Quan in person, you need to look your best. You also need the buffs.

“It’s a choker, not a collar, and we’re going to use the traps Mordecai helped us with. We can’t use the choker with them nearby.”

Velma: Protecting Mordy’s little fireworks is a poor excuse. Sounds to me like you're still on about not playing D’Nadia’s dog. Who cares where your collar—I mean choker, came from when it helps you burn things, like buildings, monsters, bartenders, children—it’s what you do best. Besides, I think it looks good on you. In an edgy goth sort of way.

“We can’t burn down the building when we need what’s inside, or while we are also inside. You’ll have to settle with Quan. This is a controlled burn.” My smile was gone, but I still found the conversation more amusing than irritating. It was reminiscent of the conversations I would have with Marci, a close friend from my modeling days in Paris. When we first met, I was often offended by her blunt and tactless way of speaking, but I eventually learned that was just the way she was and not to take it personally. It was comical, really. Even simple prodding could elicit such a volatile response. Velma was a lot like Marci in that regard, but where Marci had been blunt, Velma was just mean. But the similarity was entertaining enough that it provided me with a needed distraction.

Pissing off a flamethrower might not be the wisest thing to do, but, fortunately, I had control of Velma’s trigger.

Velma: I could swear I can remember you telling this Carl of yours to make a spectacle. You know what’s good at making a spectacle? Fire, and lots of it. It’ll be great for your ratings that you care so much about. It’ll entertain your fans, appease The Huns. So let’s drop the subtleties and start a pretty little conflagration.

“We’ll have time for that on the next floor. But we need to make it there first. How about this, I create an updraft and set the building on fire right before we go down the stairs. But you have to help me stop Quan first. This means controlled 3 second bursts. No letting loose. I can’t have you overheating in the first 30 seconds.”

Velma: Oh fine. We do it your way. But promise me that you’ll make this Quan fellow scream. You stopped too early last time and I didn’t get the chorus I was promised. I will be very disappointed with you if you don’t draw it out, especially this man whom I’ve heard you bitch so much about. Make him scream, Ren. I have needs.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I sighed. While I was eager for payback, I didn’t want to torture Quan. But, I supposed death by immolation would be a fitting end for the bastard. He had almost done the same to me.

The same quest that granted Velma her sentience was also the one where Quan had almost killed me and my team. We, and 180 other crawlers, were trapped in a bubble, one of the self-contained worlds of the fifth floor. Our bubble was a caldera with a slumbering volcano at its center, ringed by a deep lake. The edges of the crater were dotted with geothermal vents, their eruptions marking a ticking clock. It was a race against time to secure the four gems to pop the bubble before the floor collapsed or the volcano awakened.

Carl, through one of his asinine Carl Plans, had accidentally summoned Emberus, a fire god, and he had to rescue Orthrus, a mountain-sized two-headed dog, to quell the god’s fury. Failure meant everyone in his bubble, and mine, would be smote by the god, which translated to being burned alive one by one. My bubble had gotten tied up in the mess because Emberus, who was blinded after tearing out his own eyes, had somehow mistaken me, a tiny little Gnoll, for the colossal Orthrus. I, for obvious reasons, fled from Emberus, which angered the god, who proceeded to turn my bubble into a kiln.

The AI was just being a sadistic ass and wanted to amp up the stakes. I was targeted because of my connection to Carl and Donut, and everyone else in my bubble was just caught in the crossfire. As if that hadn’t been dramatic enough, the AI incentivized other crawlers with a handsome reward if they interfered with the quest and slew Orthrus. Several had taken the bait, but only Quan had come close to succeeding.

Carl had only been able to stop Quan by using a celestial grenade, an exceptionally rare item, to summon Emberus to his location, bringing the god to Orthrus instead of the other way around, and nearly killing Quan in the process. There had been a highlight reel during the next recap episode, showcasing each of Quan’s blunders: Carl blowing Quan out of the sky with a hob-lobber, Quan getting slammed by the summoned fire god’s chest when Carl summoned him, of Quan getting the shit beaten out of himself in a misguided attempt to fight Carl in hand-to-hand combat. Ending with Carl ripping off Quan’s arm, his entire goddamn arm, as Quan launched himself into the air in an attempt to flee. All in slow-motion detail.

Carl, for whatever reason, still had Quan’s arm in his inventory. A souvenir perhaps.

But it served Quan right. That robe that made Quan damn near invincible was awarded to him because of Carl—because of a Carl Plan. As far as I was concerned, Quan owed Carl both an arm and a leg. Quan had jumped on the opportunity to screw over Carl and Donut because the cat had belittled him ever since he got the robe. I could have sympathized with his desire for petty revenge, I too wish strangle that cat at times, if he hadn't been so willing to kill hundreds of crawlers to get it.

But things had escalated after he lost his arm.

Before, Quan had just been a negligent asshole who sabotaged the progress of other crawlers in order to power level. But, upon reaching the sixth floor, Quan had chosen a class specialization that turned him into a proficient player killer, and he started actively hunting down other crawlers. He had slain dozens of crawlers on the sixth floor and slew everyone in his starting area during the first phase of the eighth floor. Many of those crawlers had been good people, some of whom I considered allies and even friends.

Quan’s prowess with the eighth floor's card combat system was no surprise. Before the collapse, he had been a professional card player with finely honed skill from years of competition. The card combat system had emboldened him, making him a formidable foe even against the best of us. He easily defeated other crawlers, though it was a wonder he hadn’t managed to defeat his own Keyholder. But, considering what my team had been put through, I wasn’t that surprised.

I began to sort my T’Ghee deck, carefully removing and adding cards. I found handling the cards to be familiar and comforting. Growing up, many of the kids in my neighborhood, mostly boys, would play card games, such as Yu-Gi-Oh, Pokemon, or Dragon Ball. Many of the cards were knockoffs imported from China, and most of us couldn’t read Chinese, so we made up our own rules. When I returned from Paris, more than a decade later, Chuluuna’s nephews had tried to teach me to play Magic the Gathering. I was never good at any of the game, enjoying spending time for friends and family more than winning.

But that was different now. Different because of the dungeon. Thanks to the Earth Hobby Potion that I received during class selection on the third floor, which granted a crawler a random hobby skill from Earth, I had levels in a skill called Game Night Hosting. It gave me encyclopedic knowledge of various games, predominantly board and card games. This repertoire expanded to other types of games, such as arcade and video games, as I leveled the skill. Playing games leveled the skill, but most of the guild knew by now not to play me in any games involving beating. I had used the various gaming consoles in Carl’s personal space to level the skill considerably until Donut caught me and banned me from further entry.

While the skill didn’t immediately make me an expert at any particular game, it gave me an intuitive understanding of the basic rules and strategies governing the game, allowing me to quickly pick it up. When it came to T’Ghee, I was certainly no Quan, but I was far better than Donut. And, unlike Quan, I had one of the best guilds supporting me. Our knowledge of the T’Ghee cards far surpassed anything that Quan could have learned by himself.

But most importantly, I had Chuluuna, Khulan, and Velma. No matter how good Quan’s hand was, it wouldn’t beat a full house.

I sent a private message.

Ren: Chu, it’s time to set the stage. How is Khulan holding up?

Several seconds passed before a deep, curt voice spoke behind me, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.

“Mordecai’s potion has calmed her down. She’s resting now,” said Chuluuna. For such a big dude, he was surprisingly stealthy. He had entered the rotunda, and I hadn’t noticed. His class skill, Blend into Stone, seemed worked on marble walls and floors, concealing his presence. Chuluuna took his position by a window near the entrance where he’d keep watch for Quan. He knew the plan and spoke no further.

“If it were possible to let her sit this out, I would. But we need her. We can’t stop Quan with just the two of us,” I said softly.

Our battle with the Keyholder had been hard on the three of us. But most of all Khulan. She had been the target of the Ghost Memory, the snapshot of the past replayed to us before we fought the Keyholder. It was a recording of our last Tsagaan Sar—the Mongolian Lunar New Year—together. Khulan, Chuluuna, and most of their family were present. I too had been there, having returned from Paris months earlier.

The memory hadn’t been meant to rekindle our spirits, but to brutally remind us of what we had lost. Our battle with the Keyholder hadn’t merely been a fight; it was psychological warfare designed by the dungeon AI to break us, and it targeted Khulan ruthlessly. When the Keyholder had revealed itself to her, when she saw who it was made of, and when she realized that her own daughter would suffer by our own hands, she hadn’t been able to take it.

“Will she be ready to fight?” I asked, trying to be delicate. I knew I couldn’t keep pushing Khulan, but it was the only way we were going to survive.

There was a heavy pause before Chuluuna responded.

“She is at her limits, but she will fight,” he spoke quietly, and there was a chill to his voice, a harsh edge forged by our time in the dungeon.

“This will be the last time she will need to fight. I will make sure of it.” I meant every word, yet the silence that followed told me that such a promise might not be enough anymore. Without a word, Chuluuna turned his attention to keeping watch. His still body blended into the marble, and he truly looked like a statue. He seemed so far away.

As children, we had once been close, had gone to school together, and Khulan’s mother had been our teacher. He was older than me, but we were actually closer in age than he was with Khulan. Sometimes I wondered, if I hadn’t left for Paris, had I stayed in our hometown, if I would have been the one in Khulan’s place: if I was the one to marry Chuluuna, if it had been my daughter that was taken. Would I have ended up like Khulan? Would I have lashed out as she had?

Would I have still used Velma?

I took a deep breath and stepped closer to Chuluuna. His presence was like a fortress, solid and unyielding, but there was a time when he had been a warm and gentle man. The change in him hurt me more than I cared to admit.

“Chu, about what happened with the Keyholder... I am sorry.”

I let the words hang in the air. There was nothing I could say that would fix the rift that had formed between us, but I felt the need to say it anyway. The silence that followed was heavy, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t respond.

“You did what you had to.”

It wasn’t forgiveness, nor absolution; it was merely an acknowledgment of the reality we faced. His words held little trace of the man he used to be. I looked at him, wishing I could see a flicker of the warmth that once defined him. I felt the need to say something more. So much had been left unspoken. But, instead, I just nodded quietly, and focused on the task at hand.

We had an ambush to prepare for; we could talk again once we made it off the floor.

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

Donut: INES WAS RIDING THE SNAKE LIKE A ROLLERCOASTER. SHE SUMMONED PAZ TO FIGHT US, BUT HE REFUSED. THE SNAKE KILLED LAZARUS, BUT HE SPLIT BACK INTO UZI JESUS AND ASOJANO. YOLA STRIPPED THE NUN AND SHE RAN AWAY. CARL TOOK HER CLOTHES BEFORE YOLA COULD EAT THEM AND YOLA GOT REALLY MAD. THERE ARE DEMONS EVERYWHERE. THEY KEEP OPENING HELL PORTALS SUCKING EVERYTHING UP. SAMANTHA GOT SUCKED IN BUT CARL MANAGE TO GET HER BACK. UZI JESUS KILLED A BUNCH OF DEMON BEFORE BEING DOG-PILED AND DRAGGED INTO HELL. HE WAS MY LAST TOTEM AND I PUDDLE JUMPED CARL AND MONGO OUT OF THERE, BUT THE DEMONS ARE STILL AFTER US.

The situation with Sister Ines, as relayed through Donut's running commentary to the guild, had spiraled out of control. Carl had attempted to use one of his teleportation exploits to isolate Ines, but the dungeon AI had a better idea. Instead of just teleporting Ines to his location, Carl ended up teleporting every creature within 200 meters of the nun along the way. This included the giant sea serpent, a city boss, alongside an army of undead. It caused the entire dungeon to lag and triggered a special boss event.

Ren: Donut, Jesus, do you have the key or not?

Donut: YES, REN, WE HAVE THE KEY. WHAT ABOUT THE NUN RUNNING AWAY DIDN’T YOU UNDERSTAND? SHE USED A FLEE CARD. DO YOU HAVE ANY MORE POINTLESS QUESTION? WE ARE LITERALLY RUNNING FOR OUR LIVES.

Ren: Yes, I have questions! Shut up and let Carl explain. What in god’s name is going on and what is this new event you two just triggered.

Carl: Mordecai, I need you to explain it to them. I don’t have time.

Donut: MORDECAI IS NOT REN’S MANAGER, AND HE’S NOT TO BE SHARED LIKE SOME COMMON PROSTITUTE. SHE CAN FIGURE IT OUT ON HER OWN

Mordecai: This is the guild chat Donut, and the Demon Eviction event is going to affect the entire floor, not just Cuba. I’m going to fill them in.

Either that or Carl managed to shut Donut up. The aftermath of her battle with Sister Ines had triggered a regional event titled: Hell Comes to Crawler Town, and the entire area of Cuba was now subject to a Demon Eviction. The zombies swarming the island of Cuba were now being possessed by demons from Sheol, the 15th floor of the World Dungeon.

Because why the hell not?

After filling the guild in with all the necessary details of the eviction, Mordecai messaged me privately.

Mordecai: Carl wants this kept between us. He doesn’t want to worry the rest of the guild. When Ines fled, she took the serpent and several of the enthralled zombies with her. That means they are her minions, and it gets worse. Many of the zombies that were teleported by Samantha, and again by Ines were already possessed by demons. Teleportation separates the demon from its host, the vessel gets teleported and a full fledged demon is left behind. Carl said he saw several demons with the Enthralled status. We have to assume that Ines is now somewhere in Havana with the serpent, zombies, and demons under her control. Once you get the key from this Quan fellow, get your ass down the stairwell immediately. Try to get his robe, but don’t dawdle.

Ren: Christ. I told them to make a spectacle, but this is a bit extreme. What does Carl plan to do now?

Mordecai: As if he’d tell me. I’m either left out of the loop or simply ignored. He’s likely up to something that will get him and Donut killed. You focus on you right now and get off this floor.

Ren: Understood. In case this is the last time we speak, I just wanted to say thank you. For all your help.

Donut’s death wouldn’t be that big of a loss were it not for her Manager benefit, which had turned her game guide, Mordecai, into her personal manager. If Donut died, the guild would lose Mordecai. He was here as long as Donut remained in the dungeon, and this was Mordecai last Crawl. He’d be free of his contract after this. But his removal from the game would be a huge blow to the guild. Mordecai had extensive knowledge of the Crawl and alchemy, helping us navigate the complex rules and mechanics of the game, and making rare and valuable potions for the guild. The guild needed him and, as much as I hated to admit it, so did I. I just hated that I had to placate Donut every time I asked for his help.

Mordecai: Just be careful with those traps. Anyone without an incendiary handling skill is likely to set them off. Once you place them, have your team keep their distance.

Ren: Got it.

Quan had a nasty surprise waiting for him. Along with Carl’s teleport traps, I had placed traps of my own: Willie Petes. These weaponized incendiary munitions were hidden in the portico entrance. These traps engulfed a target with flames that burned hotter than the sun and could only be extinguished by magic. Then there was the Funtimes with Fenian trap, a combination of Willie Pete and grapple trap, which I had constructed at Carl’s sapper table, and had placed right above the stairwell entrance. It would latch onto Quan like a bola, and accompanying him when the other traps teleported him. Then, after a short delay, it would reduced him to ashes once it ignited. If everything went according to plan, I only needed to initiate card combat and I'd get his key, even if his body was rendered unlootable afterwards.

Mordecai had helped me craft these trap modules using an alchemy recipe I’d received for my class specialization on the sixth floor. There I had changed from a Crisper to an Arcane Arsonist. This class specialization granted me access to spells for manipulating fire and recipes for creating Accelerants to alter Velma’s fuel properties. I was also given access to an advanced alchemy table called a Fuel Refinery to make the accelerants. Mordecai wanted to combine my table with his setup, but that would either require us to buy expensive guild upgrade modules, or for Donut and me to join teams. Neither of which were happening anytime soon.

In addition to his invaluable knowledge of the Crawl and potions, Mordecai had also been a Flame Mage Arcanist during his Crawl, a class similar to my own, and knew as much about fire spells and skill as he did alchemy. His insights were instrumental in teaching me how to utilize my class abilities and limit collateral damage my flames—which had already earned me one too many player killer skulls. Velma, however, wanted more power and had preferred the other subclass options, Frontline Firefighter and Wildfire Ranger, which would have upgraded her armor or fire damage respectively. Even with Mordecai mediating, Velma and I constantly argued over my choice for control over raw power.

But, for once, Velma and I were on the same page. She wanted to torch Quan as much as I did. If Quan wanted to keep his skin, he’d have to disarm or trigger the traps before entering the building. His affliction was slowly eating away at him and Khulan had a spell to exploit it. We just needed him to stay still long enough.

Chuluuna was posted by the entrance, blending seamlessly with the building’s marble floors and walls. His Dragon Sight skill could detect hidden or invisible creatures. Quan’s ability to turn invisible wouldn’t hide him from us. We positioned ourselves in the halls to the right and left of the entrance, Chuluuna and Khulan across from me and my pet Tummy Acher, Garret. Garret, who Donut mockingly called an ugly meatball, did indeed resemble a giant meatball on two stubby legs. He was taller than Chuluuna and could eat anything—like a giant Kirby. Quan’s shields wouldn’t mean much if Garret got his jaws around him.

Garret’s main job was to protect me, and he was damn good at it. He was invulnerable to most damage, though not entirely immortal. He had died during the battle with the Keyholder, but he had regenerated. I wanted to avoid putting him in a position where he would get killed again. Garret was on his fourth regeneration, and he would reset completely on his fifth. He wouldn’t die, but Garret would no longer be Garret.

He had been my reward for participation in Crawl Con, a convention for fans to celebrate the Crawl and meet crawlers. My fans chose my gift, which was a pet Tummy Acher, as well as his name, Garret. I still didn’t know why they had named him Garret. It was probably some reference I wasn’t familiar with, or just alien humor.

When Quan entered the main hall, Garret and I, with Chuluuna and Khulan, would ambush him in a pincer strike. We’d cut off his exit and funnel him towards the trapped stairwell exit. I’d lock down his spells and inventory by initiating card combat, and Chuluuna and I would hammer down on him to break his shields. But breaking his shields wasn’t necessary. Our assault was a distraction, buying time for Khulan and her spells. She’d be the one to ultimately kill Quan.

So much was riding on her shoulders. Khulan’s class, Yellow Sect Shaman, was a support class that specialized in buffing allies and debuffing enemies. I was our team’s damage dealer and Chuluuna was our tank. But a sword and shield were only as good as the hand that wielded them, and Khulan was that hand. Her ability to shape the course of combat, to empower us while debilitating our foes, was the difference between victory and defeat. It was reminiscent of the woman she used to be: someone who knew the meaning of tough love.

When I first returned home from Paris after my injuries force me into an early retirement, I had retreated into myself, and isolated from the world. But Khulan had refused to leave me alone. We hadn’t seen each other in years. Yet, she showed up at my apartment one morning, her determined expression, leaving no room for argument. “Get dressed,” she commanded. When I hesitated, she practically dragged me out, ignoring my protests. “You need your friends,” she said, her voice firm yet gentle. “And we need you.”

That was the Khulan I knew: resilient, unyielding, and nurturing in her own fierce way. She was the strongest woman I had ever known, the one who had put me back together when I was broken. She didn’t care what happened to my face, and she made sure I didn’t either. She took me in and made me part of her family again, where I was welcomed and loved.

But after the collapse, after losing her daughter to the World Dungeon, Khulan had changed. The relentless fighter, the pillar of our small community, had begun to crumbled. The sight of her daughter's face among the many faces of the the Keyholder, the sound of her in pain, had finally shattered her spirit. Now, instead of being the foundation that held us up, she was barely holding on herself.

Her class was crucial to our strategy, but the weight of her loss would make every battle a struggle. It pained me to see her like this, this vestige of her former self. Without her, our team structure would fall apart. She was both our cornerstone and our Achilles’ heel.

I often wondered if things had been different, if Khulan still had the fire that once burned in her, she would have certainly been our team’s leader. Had she been the one pushing me forward, instead of me trying to pull her from the depths of her despair, we might have been unstoppable. But now, every push I made to keep her going felt like it was only breaking her further.

Khulan had pieced me back together when I was shattered, but now that it was my turn, I found myself inadequate. Every attempt to reignite her spirit seemed to chip away at what little remained of her strength. I didn’t have her knack for fixing people, and instead of mending her, I feared I was only causing more damage.

After taking Mordecai’s potion, something to calm the mind, Khulan had rested and regained her composure, albeit in a way that made her seem unnervingly detached. She positioned herself a ways behind Chuluuna, her gaze distant and impassive. This quiet, emotionless version of Khulan, mirroring her husband’s stoic demeanor, was an unsettling sight. Yet, it was an improvement from the emotional wreck who had attacked me during the battle with the Keyholder.

My attention snapped back to the present as an unexpected notification appeared.

Your Book of Voodoo is now updated: Quan Ch.

Ren: Chu, heads up, Quan is near. I think he knows we are in the area.

Everyone on my team had been awarded the Filthy Little Crawler’s Book of Voodoo after Khulan paralyzed one of our card challengers during the second phase, letting us kill the target before the battle event began. The system AI awarded this book to any crawler who exploited the flaws in the eighth floor’s design. It allowed us to communicate with any crawler who had a copy of the book once we met them. Carl had his own way of communicating plans with the guild in a manner that the showrunners and viewers couldn’t easily spy on, so the utility of the book wasn’t clear. Its purpose seemed to just be to piss off the showrunners. The AI, often at odds with the dungeon’s lead engineer, Cascadia, delighted in humiliating her.

What mattered now was that Quan also had the book and would have gotten the same notification. He’d know who we were and how many of us there were. But he wouldn’t know where we were. Hopefully, he’d think we were equally clueless about his location.

Chuluuna: I see him. He’s landed at the base of the steps.

As we expected, Quan was invisible when he arrived at the Capitol Building. I couldn’t see him, but I could smell him. The odor of slug pox pus hung in the air with a sickly sweet tang, like rotten fruit. I could pinpoint his location with my acute sense of smell. He had stopped just before the traps Carl planted. Quan had the Find Traps skill and was disarming the trap around the entrance. But this was something we anticipated and planned for.

I took a deep breath. It all came down to this.

Ren: Alright Khu, you’re up.