"Blake!" Rachel shouted again, her voice rising over the growl of the ToroMax’s engine. "Seriously, are we just gonna Mario Kart this until they decide they’ve had enough? What’s the plan?"

I glanced back at the seething, chittering swarm of the Mandible Militia, their relentless march closer with every second. Then at Rachel, her knuckles white as she clung on for dear life.

"Plan?" I yelled back, smirking as I gunned the throttle. "Yeah, here’s the plan: start shooting them!"

She blinked at me, incredulous. "With what, exactly?!"

I nodded toward the gun tucked in her waistband, loot she’d picked up earlier from one of the abandoned houses. "That thing! It’s not just for show, is it?"

Rachel’s jaw dropped. "You’re kidding, right?"

"Does this look like the face of someone kidding?" I snapped, dodging a cluster of ants attempting to flank us.

I glanced at her, a crooked grin on my face. "Yeah, the plan is you start shooting. Maybe, I dunno, aim at the giant ants trying to eat us?"

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she gripped the pistol she’d looted earlier. "You’re joking, right? This thing’s got like six bullets!"

"Well, I hope you’re good under pressure," I said, swerving the mower hard left to avoid an incoming wave of ants. "Make every shot count."

Elmo’s voice chimed in my head, adopting his best exaggerated Southern drawl. "That’s right, Ricky Bobby! If you’re not first, you’re ant food!"

“Shut up, Elmo,” I muttered, my focus on the swarm still hot on our trail.

Rachel frowned at me. “Are you talking to yourself again? Do I need to worry?”

“No, and not yet,” I replied quickly, jerking the wheel to avoid a group of ants piling onto the cracked asphalt. "Now stop asking questions and start blasting."

Rachel gritted her teeth and raised the pistol, her knuckles white. The first shot cracked through the air, slamming into an ant’s thorax and sending it sprawling. She stared, wide-eyed, for half a second.

“Nice shot, Annie Oakley!” I shouted, pulling another hard left as the mower’s tires screeched.

“You are so full of it,” she growled, lining up her second shot. Another ant fell, twitching as its legs buckled under it.

“Two for two! Look at you, Rachel! Gun-toting badass extraordinaire.”

"Why do I get the feeling you're enjoying this a little too much?" she snapped, aiming again.

"Because I am," I admitted, flooring the ToroMax and making another sharp turn. Elmo cackled in my head like a maniacal sports commentator.

"Left turn ahead, number 8!" he yelled. "Do it for the fans!"

I growled under my breath. "Elmo, I swear—"

Rachel fired again, and an ant’s head snapped back, ichor spraying as its body collapsed in a twitching heap.

Rachel’s face lit up with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. “I leveled up! Did you see that?”

“Oh, yeah. Welcome to the grind,” I replied, pulling the ToroMax into another turn. "Now get back to work. Those ants aren’t going to kill themselves."

“Work? Are you kidding?” she said, her grin wide. "I could totally do this all day!"

Elmo piped up, his voice dripping with sarcastic glee. "Oh, fantastic. She’s bloodthirsty and enthusiastic now. Blake, you’ve created a monster. I’m so proud."

“Shut up, Elmo!” I barked aloud. Rachel gave me another skeptical side-eye but didn’t stop to question it this time.

Rachel fired another shot, missing wide, and cursed under her breath. The ants closed in further, their razor-sharp mandibles clicking in eerie unison.

Instead, she leveled her gun again, determination settling on her face. The next shot hit an ant square in the head, and the swarm hesitated for the briefest moment.

“That’s more like it,” I muttered, making yet another sharp turn.

“Blake,” Rachel growled as she holstered the now-empty gun, “this plan of yours better start working soon.”

“It’s working fine,” I replied, a bit too smugly. “We’re not dead, are we?”

Her glare was sharp enough to cut steel, but she didn’t argue.

I yanked the wheel hard, pulling us into yet another left turn. The ToroMax’s tires screeched in protest as we tore through the same loop, the ants swarming just behind us like an unrelenting black tide.

"Another lap?" Rachel shouted, her voice tinged with both panic and annoyance. "Blake, this is not a NASCAR race!"

"Would you rather stop and negotiate?" I snapped back, trying to keep the mower steady as another stray ant tried to claw its way onto the side. I swerved sharply, sending it tumbling into the streetlight post.

+896XP

Before Rachel could respond, my vision was suddenly flooded with a burst of virtual fireworks and an over-the-top fanfare. Bright explosions of red, white, and blue lit up my periphery as the system chimed in with an obnoxiously triumphant voice:

New Achievement: Florida Man!

For embodying the undying spirit of Florida Man—chaos incarnate, master of questionable decisions, and lord of the left turn—you have earned the honor of a lifetime. Your audacious display of reckless bravery, unparalleled improvisation, and total disregard for common sense has been immortalized.

Awarded:

+3 Constitution – Because only someone built like a brick wall could pull this off and survive.

-1 Wisdom – Let’s be honest, this whole scenario was not your brightest moment.

+5 Charisma – Because mullets and mustaches have a strange, almost mystical ability to command attention and sway hearts.

But wait, there’s more! Your reward comes with an exclusive Florida Man Makeover!

* Legendary Mullet: A mane of glorious, sun-bleached locks to command respect (or fear) from everyone you meet.

* Heroic Mustache: Thick, regal, and entirely too proud of itself. Perfect for intimidating enemies or charming swampfolk.

* Exclusive skill tag: Born to Turn Left. Perfect for evasion, confusion tactics, or just making NASCAR fans weep with pride.

Now go forth, champion of chaos, and unleash your questionable genius upon the world!”

The message exploded across my vision in a dazzling cascade of fireworks, streamers, and a booming electric guitar solo that could’ve powered a stadium. A fanfare of trumpets accompanied a holographic banner that scrolled across my field of view reading: “LEGENDARY UPGRADE UNLOCKED!”

To top it off, a holographic bald eagle screeched across my vision, clutching a six-pack of beer in one talon and an American flag in the other. It looped once, then dive-bombed out of sight, leaving a fiery red, white, and blue trail.

“Elmo,” I muttered, staring at the reflection of my golden mullet in the ToroMax’s side mirror. “What... what is this?”

“I think the system just made you its poster boy for bad decisions,” Elmo snorted, clearly trying not to choke on laughter. “And honestly? I approve. This is peak chaos energy.”

Rachel stared, completely dumbfounded. “What the hell is happening to you? Is this a—wait, is that a mullet? And a... mustache?”

I turned to her, trying to muster some dignity, which was difficult with my new look. “It’s the system’s idea, not mine.”

Her face broke into a grin, half amusement and half disbelief. “You look like you should be selling fireworks out of the back of a pickup truck.”

“Focus,” I barked, gripping the ToroMax’s wheel. “Ants first. Style commentary later.”

Rachel couldn’t stop laughing as she fired another shot at the approaching swarm. “Well, at least now we know what Peak Blake looks like.”

I tightened my grip on the wheel, the absurdity of the situation fading as the swarm came back into view. The sound of thousands of clicking mandibles was like nails on a chalkboard, but it was drowned out by the roar of the ToroMax—or as I now considered it, the Mowtivator.

Rachel steadied herself as I accelerated, her laughter subsiding into something resembling grim determination. The Mandible Militia stretched out before us like a pulsating black river, their insectoid bodies packed tight in relentless formation.

“Elmo,” I growled, my eyes narrowing. “Cue the battle music.”

“What’s it going to be, Blakey-boy? Epic orchestral vibes? Metal? Or, wait—should I hit you with some classic Lynyrd Skynyrd?”

“Surprise me,” I snapped, barreling toward the tail end of the swarm.

“Let’s get redneck!” Elmo cackled. A distorted guitar riff blared through my mind like an anthem of chaos.

I flipped a switch, engaging the Mowtivator’s claw. The metal appendage snapped open with a satisfying clank, eager for destruction.

“Rachel,” I barked over the roar of the engine. “Hang on and keep firing. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“You’re insane!” she yelled, bracing herself. “But fine!”

The first wave of ants came into range, and the Mowtivator didn’t disappoint. Its massive tires crushed the insects with sickening pops, leaving behind a smeared trail of ichor. The claw reached out, snagging a cluster of them at once and crushing them into a grotesque paste.

+625XP

+732XP

+680XP

+760XP

+132XP

“Ant-pocalypse achieved!” Elmo crowed. “You’re mowing through them like a champ, Blakey! I’d say keep going, but, uh, don’t forget—they’re not exactly running low on reinforcements.”

LEVEL UP!

Rachel fired into the swarm, each shot cracking through the chaos. “They just keep coming! How many of these things are there?”

“Enough to make this feel like an endurance test,” I muttered, swerving to avoid a particularly dense cluster. The engine growled as its tires struggled against the sheer mass of insect bodies, but it kept moving.

The claw slammed down again, this time sweeping a dozen ants into its grip before pulverizing them in one smooth motion. Chunks of carapace and streams of green fluid rained down, splattering across the chariot’s reinforced frame.

Rachel paused to reload, panting. “This isn’t working! We’re barely making a dent!”

“It’s working enough,” I snapped, grinding into a sharp turn that threw us both against the side. “We just need to keep them off us long enough to thin the swarm.”

“Famous last words,” Elmo chimed, mocking me with a singsong tone. “But hey, at least you’re looking cool while doing it. Mustache power, activate!”

I ignored him, plowing through another wave of ants. This was going to be a long, messy battle, but I wasn’t about to let a bunch of overgrown bugs take me down.

“Keep shooting!” I barked at Rachel.

She didn’t argue this time, her shots precise and methodical, each one taking out an ant with a satisfying crack.

The swarm surged forward, relentless, but I grinned, wiping sweat from my brow. They thought they could overwhelm me? I’d show them what chaos really looked like.

I slammed the throttle again, feeling the vibrations from the Mowtivator's engine surge through my hands. The roar of the machine drowned out everything else as I tore through the wave of ants, the wheels crushing them beneath their weight. The claw on the front snapped open, and I angled it downward, tearing through more of the swarm.

Rachel’s shots echoed behind me, each one striking true, her focus unwavering. She’d picked up on this quickly. The steady crack of her weapon was a rhythm that matched my own, like we were two parts of a well-oiled machine, cutting through the chaos.

“Keep it up, Rachel!” I yelled over my shoulder. "We’re almost there."

But even as the last of the ants were trampled under the wheels, I knew this wasn’t over. The swarm was huge, and I could feel more of them pushing from behind. There was no way we could outrun them forever. We needed to end this, now.

A wave of heat washed over me as I made another tight turn, giving the Mowtivator a little more throttle. I needed to break their formation—distract them long enough to make a stand.

“Elmo,” I muttered under my breath, feeling the familiar weight of his presence in my mind. “What do you think?”

“Oh, I think you're in for a real treat, Blakey-boy,” Elmo replied, a knowing laugh dripping from his voice. “But if you’re serious about taking out this many ants, you’re gonna need a little more firepower. You’ve got the ‘drive fast and break stuff’ down, but now’s the time to get creative.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue, so I just gritted my teeth and pushed faster. The swarm was getting closer, but we were making progress. At this rate, we’d break through before they completely surrounded us.

But just as I thought that, I caught sight of something ahead. A massive anthill—a nest that could be the heart of the infestation. If I could destroy that, it might stop the swarm.

I turned hard, heading straight for it, grinding through more ants as I did. The claw snapped forward again, and I aimed it directly at the center of the mound, crashing it down like a battering ram.

“Here we go,” I muttered, putting everything into this last move.

Rachel’s voice broke through the chaos. “Blake, what the hell are you doing?!”

But it was too late. We hit the mound, and the system chimed in with its signature dramatic flair:

New Achievement: Exterminator

Well done, you’ve managed to wipe out an entire insect army, and now you’re officially the go-to pest control service in this hellscape. Forget the exterminators, you’re the real deal—minus the moral compass, of course.

Thanks not all though

Exterminator Coveralls: Slip into these bad boys and become the true embodiment of bug-killer chic. You’ll look great while crushing critters, plus they come with reinforced stitching for maximum durability. Great for squeezing through tight spots, and even better for when you're rolling in the guts of every creepy-crawly.

+20% Damage to Insects: You’ve officially become the nightmare of any insect within a 50-mile radius. Your swatter game is strong, my friend.

+20% Damage Taken from Insects: A little drawback, but hey, you're tough, right? Let’s face it, bugs are going to come at you harder now. If you get hit, at least you’ll look stylish in your new coveralls.

You’ve earned your place as the king of the bug massacre, but beware, the insect world isn’t done with you just yet. You might have claimed victory for today, but tomorrow’s a new battle, and those bugs are going to be mad. The labyrinth just got a little bit more... insectile."**

I didn’t have time to process the reward because the ground under us shook as the swarm faltered. The remaining ants seemed to hesitate, momentarily disoriented. I took advantage of the opportunity, flooring the gas and tearing through the last of them.

We made it.

For now.

Rachel let out a long breath, leaning against the seat. “That was insane,” she muttered.

I could only nod. I didn’t have the energy to do much else.

The swarm was gone, but the labyrinth’s twisted streets still stretched ahead of us. Who knew what was waiting around the next corner?

“Well, Blakey-boy,” Elmo’s voice crooned, “that was fun. But next time, how about we make it even more interesting? We need to find something bigger to fight. Something real challenging.”

I rolled my eyes but kept my focus on the road. The labyrinth was far from over. And with Elmo’s voice in my head egging me on, I was sure it wouldn’t be long before things got a whole lot worse.

“Let’s just get through this,” I muttered, gripping the wheel. “One step at a time.”

I rolled my eyes but kept my focus on the road. The labyrinth was far from over. And with Elmo’s voice in my head egging me on, I was sure it wouldn’t be long before things got a whole lot worse.

"Look," Rachel said, her voice tinged with exhaustion as we bounced along the cracked pavement. "I get that this is a lot to take in, but you're still acting like you're the only one who's been thrown into this insane mess."

I glanced at her, trying not to let my frustration show. "I never said I was the only one, Rachel. But I’ve been through worse, and right now, we just need to keep moving."

"Yeah, because you know everything, right?" she shot back, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "I mean, no need for a plan or strategy, just run around and hope we don’t die, huh?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but Elmo beat me to it, his voice oozing with mock sweetness. "Oh, Rachel’s got a point, Blakey-boy. You’re the expert here, right? Running around like a chicken with its head cut off is totally your style. It’s cute."

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to snap at him. "Shut up, Elmo," I muttered under my breath, hoping Rachel wouldn’t notice. I kept my gaze fixed on the road, the labyrinth stretching out before us, endless and hostile.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Who are you talking to?"

"Nobody," I shot back quickly, hoping I didn’t sound too defensive. "Just... focusing, you know?"

Elmo wasn’t going to let me off that easy. "Yeah, real subtle, Blakey-boy. Next time, try not to let your imaginary friend talk so loud. Not everyone appreciates the commentary."

I clenched the steering wheel, forcing a calm expression. "Ignore him," I said, hoping Rachel would buy it.

She didn’t look convinced, but she let it go, turning her attention to the road ahead. "Fine, but I swear, you’re acting like you’ve lost your mind. Talking to yourself? You’re starting to scare me."

I half-smiled. "You’ve seen nothing yet."

The wheels screeched as I slammed the brakes, pulling into an old, abandoned convenience store. It looked like a decent enough spot to rest, at least for a little while. I didn’t like staying in one place for too long, but the way things were going, we could use a breather.

"Alright, we’ll rest here for a bit," I said, coming to a stop. "Get off, keep your weapon handy, and stay alert. I’ll check the place out."

Rachel hesitated but followed my lead, her eyes scanning the area suspiciously.

"Don’t let your guard down," I muttered to myself, knowing that, despite the quiet, the labyrinth wasn’t done with us yet.

As we climbed down, Elmo’s voice rang in my head again. "Oh, great, you’re just gonna stay here? You realize the only thing you’re gonna find in there is a whole bunch of expired snacks and a horde of angry rats, right? Unless you plan on setting up a cozy little vacation spot."

"Shut up," I muttered, heading toward the building’s entrance. "You want me to take a nap in the middle of a goddamn warzone? This is a break, not a five-star resort."

Rachel shot me a glance as I reached for the door handle. "You seriously going in alone?"

I didn’t answer immediately. Instead, I just looked back at her, trying to hide the flicker of unease in my eyes. "Someone has to keep watch. Stay here and keep your head down."

As I pushed the door open, I could feel Elmo’s amusement building again. "Oh, this is rich. I’m just waiting for the ‘surprise’ monster that’s gonna show up as soon as you let your guard down. No one ever expects a simple break to turn into the end of the world."

I ignored him, stepping inside cautiously. The place was rundown, shelves of dusty, expired goods lined the aisles. It was almost too quiet. Too perfect. Just like the rest of this place. A trap.

Rachel’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "You sure about this?"

"Yeah," I replied, glancing back over my shoulder at her. "Stay sharp. And if anything comes through this door, don’t hesitate. I’ll be right back."

Before she could respond, I stepped further into the store, my every sense alert, knowing that no matter how safe things seemed, the labyrinth would find a way to surprise us.

I didn’t find anything worth noting inside the convenience store. It was the same as everything else in the labyrinth—decaying, forgotten, and hollow. A few broken shelves, some rotting boxes, and the distinct smell of mold and stale air.

I stepped back outside, casting a quick glance over my shoulder. Nothing was following us. For now.

"Alright, let’s head in," I said to Rachel, motioning for her to follow me. I needed to stay on top of things, and that meant resting for a moment and checking the system notifications. The break would be short, but it was better than constantly running around on empty.

Rachel gave me a skeptical look but followed me inside, keeping her weapon close. She wasn’t exactly thrilled to be stuck in this weird version of reality, but then again, who would be?

I walked over to the wall, leaning against it and pulling up the system interface on my wrist. "Alright, let’s see what we’ve got." I flicked through the notifications, starting with the most recent.

New Achievement: Exterminator

Exterminator Coveralls Acquired

Effects:

* +20% Damage to All Insects

* +20% Damage Taken from Insects

I sighed, looking down at the new coveralls the system had gifted me. Dark green, utility-style, the kind you’d wear if you were about to hunt down bugs—or at least pretend to. "This just keeps getting better."

I tugged at the zipper, pulling the coveralls up to my chest, when suddenly, the sleeves—already loose-fitting—slipped right off my arms and fell to the floor with a soft thud.

WARNING: Sleeves are not compatible with the Florida Man Achievement. Any attempt to wear them may result in undesired aesthetic consequences. Congratulations, you've unlocked the full Florida Man experience—full mullet, full mustache, and now, full chaos. Enjoy your sleeveless lifestyle. But hey, it's not like you need sleeves to wreak havoc, right?

The message flashed in my vision, the snark practically dripping off the words.

"Of course," I muttered, staring at the empty sleeve slots. "Sleeves are apparently too much for my new title."

Rachel raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to hold back her laughter. "What did it say?"

I threw a glance over at her and shrugged, already sick of explaining the absurdity of this whole system. "Apparently, sleeves don’t fit with the Florida Man Achievement. I’m now living the sleeveless dream. It's a whole thing."

Elmo's voice rang through my head again, grinning like a kid in a candy store. "Hell yeah! You know what they say—Florida Man doesn’t need sleeves. Who needs 'em when you’ve got a mullet and a mustache?"

Ignoring Elmo’s ranting, I glanced down at the name tag stitched onto the coveralls. The word "DALE" was embroidered in bold letters.

“Great,” I sighed. "I’m really doing this, huh?"

Elmo piped up, ever the wiseass. "Oh, Dale, huh? Perfect. You’re officially a walking NASCAR disaster. Just wait till you start blasting 'Free Bird' every time you make a turn."

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “I’m just trying to survive, Elmo. I don’t need a soundtrack to go with the chaos."

Rachel gave me a look that could’ve burned through steel. "You know, Blake, this is definitely the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen." Then, she pointed at the name tag. "But, I guess the Dale thing makes sense, right? You're basically a walking disaster."