Bob’s feet dragged through the forest as he grumbled to himself. He was tired, angry, and still smelly from his “bath” disaster. The thick woods felt endless, and all he wanted was to find some peace and maybe a bit of real magic training.

Rustle, rustle...

Bob’s ears perked up. “What was that?” he muttered, looking around nervously. The bushes nearby shook, and before he could react, a young kid burst out from the trees, his face pale with fear.

“Help! Help me!” the kid screamed, stumbling over branches and running straight toward Bob. Behind him, a pack of snarling wolves bounded after him, their sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight.

Bob’s eyes went wide. “Oh no, oh no, oh no!” He frantically tried to think of a spell—a real one, something cool and heroic—but nothing came to mind. The wolves were closing in, growling and snapping. “Do I use Scorching Brown Blast?” he thought. “No, wait... that’s just more poop!”

Then, it happened. The wolves suddenly stopped in their tracks, their noses twitching wildly. They sniffed the air, whimpered, and then started backing away, tails between their legs. Bob’s smell had reached them—a wave of poop stench that even wild animals couldn’t handle. With a final whine, the wolves turned and ran, disappearing back into the trees.

Bob blinked, stunned. “Well... I guess that works?” he said aloud.

The kid, still panting from running, looked up at Bob with wide eyes. “You... you saved me,” he said in awe, clearly too grateful to care about the smell. “Thank you!”

Bob scratched the back of his neck, trying to look heroic. “Uh, yeah, no problem! All in a day's work for a... brave adventurer,” he said, doing his best to sound confident. The kid didn’t know what actually happened, and Bob was happy to let him think it was something brave.

“Can you help me get back to my village?” the kid asked, his voice still trembling. “I don’t want to get lost again...”

Bob nodded. “Sure thing, kid. Just stick with me,” he said, puffing out his chest. “You’re safe now.”

As they walked through the forest together, Bob tried to make conversation to calm the kid down. “So, what’s your name?” he asked.

“Tommy,” the kid replied, sticking close to Bob’s side.

“Tommy, huh? Well, you’re lucky I was around, Tommy,” Bob said, trying to sound cool. “Those wolves didn’t stand a chance against a... hero like me!” He laughed nervously, hoping it sounded genuine. But every few minutes, the kid would wrinkle his nose and glance at Bob with a look of discomfort. The smell of the “Fiery Fecal Flame” still lingered around him like a heavy fog.

“Yeah... thanks again,” Tommy mumbled, holding his nose as politely as possible.

After a bit of walking, they came to a wide river that sparkled in the sunlight. Bob’s eyes lit up. “Perfect! Time to clean up!” He waded into the river, the cold water rushing around his ankles, and quickly stripped off his clothes to wash away the muck and stink.

“Just... give me a minute, Tommy,” he called back to the kid, who respectfully turned around.

Bob dunked himself under the water, scrubbing with the bar of soap he’d gotten from the inn. This time, he didn’t cast any spells—no magical disasters, just pure, normal cleaning. And for once, it worked. The mud and filth washed away, and Bob felt fresh, really fresh, for the first time since he got to this world.

He waded back to the shore, shaking the water off like a dog. “Ah, that’s more like it!” he said, pulling on his now-clean clothes. The kid stopped holding his nose and smiled up at Bob, who couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe things were finally looking up.

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“You look like a real hero now!” Tommy said, his eyes shining. “Thanks for helping me.”

Bob beamed, feeling a rare moment of pride. “Hey, it’s no problem. That’s just what heroes do.”

The two of them made it to Tommy’s village by nightfall. It was a small place, with thatched-roof houses and dirt roads. As they approached, a woman came running out from one of the houses, worry all over her face.

“Tommy! Where have you been?!” she cried, pulling him into a tight hug. Then she looked up at Bob, eyes wide with gratitude. “Did you... did you save my son?”

Bob stood up straight, doing his best to look strong and important. “Yes, ma’am, I did. Protected him from a pack of wolves,” he said, trying to sound casual. “It’s what heroes do, you know.”

The woman’s eyes filled with tears of relief. “Thank you! Oh, thank you so much! You must stay with us for a few days—please, let us show you our thanks!” She grabbed Bob’s hand, leading him into their small, cozy home, where the warmth of a fire and the smell of cooking filled the air.

Bob was given a little corner to sleep in, and that night, as they sat around the fire, he told Tommy and his mother all about his “heroic” adventures. He exaggerated the story of the wolves, making it sound like he fought off a dozen of them with nothing but his bare hands.

For the first time since arriving in this strange, smelly world, Bob felt like maybe—just maybe—things were starting to go his way.

For a little while, life in the village seemed almost normal. Bob enjoyed hot meals, a warm fire, and a place to sleep that wasn’t covered in mud and twigs. He could tell that Tommy and his mother were truly grateful, and that made him feel... well, kind of like a hero.

But then, P.U.M.A. had to ruin everything.

One evening, as they sat down for dinner, Bob was just about to take a big bite of stew when—Ding! A screen flashed in front of him, and P.U.M.A.'s voice rang in his ears.

“New Quest! Privy Unclogging: Cleansing Time Remaining—5 minutes!”

Bob’s heart sank. He quickly skimmed the screen. “No, no, no... not now...” he muttered under his breath. But there it was: Urgent! Find the village’s privy and use ‘Scorching Brown Blast’ to cleanse the clogged latrine! Failure to complete will result in a... Stink Penalty. Whatever that meant, it sounded bad.

Tommy’s mother looked up from her plate, a fork halfway to her mouth. “Are you okay, dear?” she asked, eyeing him curiously.

“Uh... yeah!” Bob forced a smile. “Just... need to use the bathroom!” He quickly stood up, bumping the table and making the stew slosh in their bowls. He dashed out of the house before anyone could say another word, following the faint, rancid smell that led him to the village privy—a little wooden shack at the edge of town.

Bob opened the door, and the smell hit him like a wall. “Oh, come on!” he groaned, staring at the messy, clogged pit. The System screen kept flashing in front of him, the time ticking down: 2 minutes... 1 minute...

“Okay, fine! Fine!” Bob said, pointing his hand at the mess. “Scorching Brown Blast!”

A ball of poop magic formed in his hand, and he hurled it into the pit. There was a loud splat! followed by some loud bubbling and... well, explosive noises. The whole shack shook, and a foul stench filled the air as the spell unclogged the privy. The System dinged again in satisfaction.

“Quest Complete! Stink Points awarded!”

But back in the house, Tommy and his mother could hear everything. The loud, disgusting noises echoed across the village, and Tommy wrinkled his nose in confusion. “What... what’s he doing in there?” he asked.

The mother just stared out the window, her eyes wide with concern. “I... don’t know, dear.”

Later that night, after a very awkward dinner, Bob finally lay down on his little bedroll, hoping to sleep off the embarrassment of the day. But as soon as he closed his eyes—Ding! Another notification popped up.

“New Event! Noble Nuisance: Time to Spread the Stink! Throw a stinky spell at the house of the village noble, Sir Roderick, within the next hour. Rewards: 20 Stink Points!”

Bob sat up, staring at the glowing screen in disbelief. “What is wrong with you?!” he hissed. But he knew there was no point arguing. If he didn’t do it, who knew what punishment P.U.M.A. had in store for him?

He got up, sneaked out of the house as quietly as possible, and trudged toward the grandest house in the village—a small manor at the top of a hill. “This is so stupid...” he muttered as he approached the walls of Sir Roderick's home. “Why does everything have to be poop-related?!”

With a heavy sigh, he summoned another Scorching Brown Blast, threw it at the front door, and then ducked behind a bush. The ball of poop magic exploded on impact, covering the door in stinky, sticky goo that quickly spread across the walls. Bob didn’t stick around to see what happened next. He ran back to Tommy’s house as fast as he could, hoping nobody would know it was him.