I don’t know if it was the pinkish atmosphere, or the neon lights, or the luscious posters of scantily clad people of the domestic-violence-able persuasion, but the entrance to the dungeon looked like a house for individuals that shared several characteristics with your dear mother.
“It looks like a breeding den of sin and skanks.” Florencia pointed out, grabbing her sword and chair, prepared for action.
“No, Flor, dear, I am practically a biologist, so believe me when I tell you skanks don’t breed here. The whore larva grows up here, protected by their mutualist host, the pimp. Once they reach maturity, around thirty years old, they emigrate from the nest, search for a church, become born again Christians, marry some simp who got guilted by the pastor into taking a decision he wasn’t ready for, and wait a reasonable —often of the order of weeks— time before cheating on him with a stronger, younger and sexier specimen the entirety of whose beliefs in God consist of a whole back tattoo depicting an angel with a skull for a head riding a motorbike.”
Sabrina looked at me like I had stabbed a sacred inbred mechanical cow. Cornelio facepalmed. Mariana wagged her tail absentmindedly while licking a frog by the nearest tree. Florencia’s lower lip had advanced over the upper one. It was trembling. Then her face took a shadow of indignation.
“Walter, you need not to shame our sisters that, despite finding difficulties along the way, have found Jesus Christ and are ready to turn their lives from one of sin into one of virtue!”
“What part of ‘I am mocking hypocritical narcissistic women that care about nobody but themselves’ didn’t you understand, Flor dear?” I made a small pause to walk around her with a disgusted expression, never averting my gaze from her. “I don’t even get how you are so… churchworthy. You were raised in a world with the bible but without organized religion to tell you to not stone prostitutes because that ain’t cash money anymore. I don’t mock your belief in God, nor in the religion itself. But girl, you are naïve to think people can be redeemed that easily and that there aren’t narcissists using God as an excuse out there.”
“I am hearing all the smells of the rainbow,” Mariana stated before giving the frog another lick.
“Mariana, who am I?” I asked her to test how drugged she was.
Mariana stared at me with her head askew, then tilted it to the other side. “The everlasting influence of the concept of honor in the Japanese culture?”
I pursed my lips and considered the situation for a moment. “Fine, she’s nearly in her natural state.”
“Isn’t it dangerous if Mariana cannot distinguish friend from foe?” Cornelio raised a stupid question.
“She’s practically in her natural state.”
Marina licked her nose. “I feel like curcumin-based baby powder.”
I felt a pulse of magic course through my inventory. “What do you mean by baby powder? They powder babies?” Canaver asked, his voice trembling with excitement.
“No, Canaver, it’s not seasoning. She means talcum powder people use so babies don’t get their skin hurt by their own shit and piss.”
Canaver started laughing, and the Hahaha’s to stack inside my inventory. “Babies are so pathetic. When some parts of me were puppies, they were able to maul their own brothers and sisters without a problem,” he bragged, and I was not about to defend the honor of people that have more access to female breasts than I do. It’s basically defending women at that point.
“Walter, did you have to pick the worst and most aggressive dogs my father ever had from the cemetery room?” Cornelio asked, clearly tired of Canaver’s bullshit.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“How we never mauled you is beyond my comprehension. I think… yes, we considered you a weird tree,” Canaver said.
“My Sorcerous Archer class allows me to turn accuracy into damage. Just try and maul me Canaver.”
“Yes, but you are barely level seventy,” I objected.
“Accuracy is calculated per eye one has, Walter, and it isn’t necessarily a linear function,” he informed. Then, out of thin Air, he conjured a green bow, closed one eye, manifested a light arrouw in his ahnd and shot against Mariana’s head. The arrow didn’t bounce, but scratched Mariana’s skin, dropping her hp by 5%.
I doubted if shit talking him ever again was wise.
“Can we come back to the dungeon tomorrow?” He said, panting, struggling to keep his footing.
“A single shot took all your mana?” I remembered I could see his amount of mana in the party screen and checked. “Oh, no, not all your mana, but double of it. You are in the red… How?”
“Sorcerous archer can spend up to tenfold of a mana cost to enhance the damage of an attack, and this isn’t affected by our total mana pool,” He expositioned as he fell on his ass.
Mariana kept sniffing the air, looking for whatever had stung her head. “Come out god, we are going to fetch some pain for you!”
“You are like a Megumin the degenerate side of the fandom doesn’t want to fuck. That is, useless.”
“A what the what whats?” asked Florencia.
I realized no one present but Mariana—who was too busy tripping balls to care— knew about the masterpieces of Earth’s animation.
“Anyway… Sabrina, do you have your summons at the ready?”
“Yes, but I only made two. Just so they can defend me.”
I sighed. It seemed only Florencia and I would be dealing some damage. In her state, Mariana was more like and environmental hazard.
“Does anyone have a mana potion for Cornelio at least?” I asked as the aforementioned crawled on the wet dirt ground and mumbled unintelligible things. For the record, the entrance to the dungeon was in the middle of a rainforest. It was only logical: If Narcos had taken it like they did the Amazonian rainforest, pimps would eventually follow. The coca farmers needed some whores to make their existences bearable, and we cannot expect your mother to be present everywhere at once.
“Who the fuck needs a mana potion. Mana is cheap, it regenerates fast. Cornelio just runs out because he is low level, and using a class that can cripple itself to deal minor damage to Mariana,” said Sabrina.
Mariana had begun barking at the tree. “Stop being so tall! I don’t approve of your tallness, grrr!”
“Well, let’s clean this den of sin and reclaim it for good!” Said Florencia.
I went up to her and slapped her on the back of the head. “We are not good, Flor, we are villains… and whatever Mariana qualifies as.”
“Heart-of-gold sidekick?”
“Brain of gold, Cornelio…” I said, looking at how Mariana was now barking the tree.
Then, I approached the pink gates of the whorehouse in the jungle and placed my sweaty hand on the knob. “Ladies, mentlegen…”
“Let me rest a little!” said the mana-depleted disgrace.
“Florencia, help him recover his mana. Remember it automatically jumps to 5% when you have none and fall below 50% health…”
Florencia winked twice, confused.
“Am I the only one who reads balance patches?”
Sabrina nodded. Florencia nodded. Cornelio nodded., Marianahealed the tree back to full health.
“Of course, you don’t get your dog nerfed every other patch. Actually, let me check…”
I pulled up the patch notes.
Searched for “Mariana’s”
And, lo and behold, she had been nerfed again.
Mariana’s total mana reduced by 1 (should help with spell spam).
Mariana’s simultaneous classes restricted to 580 (I know we have way less but we have to think about design space.)
Mariana’s collar no longer grants extra damage against children wearing scarfs.
Mariana’s hunger stat increased by 5% (Fuck you Walter)
Mariana’s dancing skill progression slowed by about 13% (I barely have an idea of how to tweak that formula)
Mariana’s collar no longer grants the Zoomies buff (was redundant)
Mariana’s total HP reduced by 5 (should make her squishier)
Mariana’s strength buffed by 4 (We want to emphasize her role as a Glass Cannon)
Mariana’s starting inventory changed: now it contains a copy of The Left Paw of Darkness.
I started having luscious thoughts about best girl dressed as a cat girl. I discarded them soon enough. I couldn’t go into this dungeon with a raging erection. Not even for my waifu.
I dismissed the patch notes from my mind and returned to see Cornelio begging for mercy as Florencia approached with the chair.
“She who was sired in the verysameth womb as I, I pray thee showeth mercifulnessness!” Cornelio would have said if he would have spoken like a moron instead of begging for his life and squealing like a little bitch descended from an orgasmic pig into BDSM.
“Thou must be felleth by my holiest of chairs, brother, villain!” Florencia would have said if she hadn’t began quoting bible verses as she beat him up.
And thus, Cornelio unhappily recovered five percent of his mana.