"OYAWAWACELLULALAU!!! UWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!"

Uncle Uter said calmly, as the two men wheeled him away on the stretcher.

He was trying to flee. To rip off the belts and restraints. Though, I couldn't say whether he meant to stay with us or go back to whacking my monsters over the head.

It was honestly a coin toss at that point.

Aunt Cheryl really should have been here to protest, but she was currently passed out on the couch.

Too many milkshakes for her own good.

Which left me, Eva and Cupcake to watch the whole thing.

She sobbed a little. Her tiny arms wrapped around my hips as she buried her head in my stomach.

I patted her head while Cupcake snuggled up against her own leg.

The two men loaded Uncle Uter onto an ambulance after that. The doors closing tightly before the vehicle sped away.

Then Mr. Robertson came over. Looking abashed.

"Don't you worry yourselves for a second kids. I am certain he will be A-okay."

The lie came easily to his lips. So much so that I almost believed him myself.

Regardless, it would serve to calm Eva down, and for that, I was grateful.

"Right then. Go play with Cupcake, Eva. I'll stay here and talk things out with Mr. Robertson. We'll go visit him in the hospital later."

Eva nodded without saying another word. Cupcake trailing behind her in husky form.

I waited until she was far, far out of earshot. Then and only then did I allow my mask to drop.

"So?" I started. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Of course!" Mr. Robertson assured me. "Honestly Cecil. You shouldn't be so judgmental of your uncle. So what if he had a little psychotic breakdown? It happens to everyone at some point or another. Especially when monsters and magic are involved. Cut your uncle some slack, as the kids would say. This isn't the fifties. Men are allowed to have mental health episodes without being sent to the loony bin."

"OYAWAWACELLULALAU!!! UWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" I heard from out in the distance.

"Why, I remember the first time I realized magic was real. Me and a team of very dangerous men with very big guns were in charge of investigating some guy who claimed to be a genie of all things. Don't ask. He was out of his mind. Anyway, to make a long story short, I saw the man levitate a few feet off the ground and I nearly had a stroke!"

We heard another cry then, but it was so muffled by distance that it was hard to make out, even with magically-enhanced senses.

Mr. Robertson looked over to where the ambulance had gone. Whistling in faux-appreciation.

"My, but he does have a set of lungs on him. I do think he missed his calling. He should have been an opera singer or a drill instructor. Those talents are wasted on a clerk who happens to do logistics."

"Is he going to be okay?" I repeated. With more intensity this time.

Mr. Robertson scoffed. Then he waved away my concern in an annoyingly casual manner.

"He'll be FINE Cecil. I keep telling you that this is normal but for some reason you keep refusing to believe me."

"It's not normal for my uncle."

"Yeah? So? He has a lot on his mind. What with the looming possibility of a bad core, the rigors of getting your produce past the FDA and its equivalents, him being more or less isolated in a social sense, your aunt's decline and many other grown-up concerns."

He shrugged then. Releasing a deep breath.

"My engagement proposals couldn't have helped matters either. I think he's of the opinion that I was pushing some boundaries."

I blinked.

"Your what!?"

"Engagement proposals." Mr. Robertson repeated. "For you. I mean. Elsie likes you and you kids are about the age where we grown ups make arrangements for your futures. It'll be especially important for you since you've got such an outstanding core. Truly, I cannot put into words how incredible these feats of magic are Cecil. My expectations have been blown completely out of the water. It would be such a waste if you remained single."

I hacked out a cough. Which felt like pushing out a pair of lungs through my mouth and nostrils.

"I'm fourteen!"

'And I don't like your bratty, bullying great-granddaughter.' Went unsaid, but it was just as important.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Mr. Robertson, no. The senile old man, waved off my complaints once more.

"So? I was engaged when I was twelve! Though I did end up meeting and marrying the love of my life in Korea; but that's beside the point. We do things the old fashioned way here in Dunstonberry. Just to make sure we're getting good pairings for the next generation and no good core ends up dying out."

My eyes bulged out to size of party balloons. All while my mouth dropped open like the snout of a gargoyle.

"We have to get involved like this, because our long-term goal is the preservation of the human species. Some cores as just too good to remain in some insular family with only one or two kids, or worse, a relationship that doesn't result in children. Why, just look at Casper! How did you think he came to have so many half-brothers and sisters? Teleportation is just too good to pass up! It's so versatile it's almost as good as your own magic!"

'He's insane.' I realized with a start. 'The paramedics took away the wrong guy. This loon isn't yelling out nonsense, but he's twice as crazy as my uncle is. Wait. Wait a second. Is this the reason why he had those awkward talks with me!? Because this loon was pushing a marriage on us!?'

"Engagement. Not marriage." The loon corrected. "Also, please recall that I can read your mind. I would appreciate it if you didn't refer to me as a loon. I'm perfectly sane."

"People who are perfectly sane don't need to remind others that they're sane."

He barked out a laugh. Shaking until his twig-like frame vibrated. His errant puffs of sparse white hair bobbing up and down like a wig that was seconds away from falling.

"Fair enough I guess! Though you really should consider Elsie more closely. She's smart, she's pretty, she's got a lovely voice and she's already level 3 at your age! She's one of, if not the hardest working youngster of your generation. Perhaps even outshining your own efforts. Besides that she's sensitive..."

I had to rein in the urge to vomit at flagrant disregard for the truth.

"It is so the truth! She is a lovely young woman. She can play the piano, she writes poetry, she paints."

He stopped for one blessed second.

"I know I said this already but she is really, seriously smart. While you're out here about to enter the 9th grade, she's doing university level calculus with ease. She is positively brilliant. With a strong sense of justice and a whole lot on integrity to boot. She might be a bit playful and maybe a little mean on occasion, but that's just because she's young and she has a crush on you. Besides that, she loves the outdoors as much as you do, she can cook, she can clean, she can do the laundry."

"I can cook." I rebutted. Aghast that this conversation was dragging on. "And I can also clean and do laundry! I got hands don't I?"

The loon had the sheer fucking nerve to look condescending.

"Perhaps it's my old age showing. I forget how much more flexible you youngsters are when it comes to family roles. Back in my day, people would call you all kinds of things if you were that open-minded."

'I'll bet.' I thought with a start.

Doing mental gymnastics to figure out what else this crazy person might think of as normal.

"The point is, Cecil, that your magic was already invaluable before you managed this. But now..."

He waved his arms about.

"Not only did you make thousands of monsters, all of whom have a substantial amount of stopping power, but you also maintained a perfect degree of control over all of them! Without exception! You even got them to finish harvesting the fields you made! Down to the last vegetable!"

That was news to me. Though I guessed it was a silver lining to all this.

"And besides that, you turned the first few floors and the area surrounding the Dungeon into another massive field that constantly produces food. While also having that harvested! Without the slightest hint of aggression or truculence from your minions. And...!"

He was yelling more loudly now. To the point where I was backing off.

"You did all of that while discovering two new, as of yet unknown skills that your Analyzer couldn't make heads or tails of. While also bending several floors of the Dungeon to be under your total and unquestioned control. Why, you've been popping out monsters by the hundreds with every passing hour and they all head right to work without you being there!"

That was also news to me. Which made me even more worried.

"Add in the food production and your ability to heal beyond what others of your level could ever dream of and there is no question as to how valuable your core is to us."

I made a mental note that he'd mentioned my core, instead of me as a person, before moving on.

"No. Cecil. We simply cannot allow you to be wasted here any longer. It is time you took the bull by the horns and took charge of your future."

"By marrying into your family." I clarified.

"It doesn't have to be Elsie if you're that against it." He rebutted. "There are plenty of pretty girls in town. I recall that Russell also proposed his own daughter to your uncle. She would do."

I thought of coach Russell taking me by the arm as we worked the fields. Calling me son-in-law and making jokes at my expense. Asking me when he would have grandkids.

It was all I could do not to faint from the wave of insurmountable terror and poorly concealed disgust that gripped my heart.

"But we can get to that later. Right now I have a special project that you'll be helping me with. As the master of your very own Dungeon!"

Memories of Alaska brought me out of my stupor.

"Are we going back to the states?"

"No! Heavens no! That was only a test run! A very successful test run that I would like to repeat some other time, but that's not what I'm talking about."

He wrapped a gangly limb around me.

Instantly making me as uncomfortable as a pigeon in a nest of vipers.

"You my friend, are going across the world! Past the great blue sea! To North Korea!"

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

I did not know what the young girl was saying. Though, taking into account the way her ribs poked out of her thin, dirty rags, then I was pretty sure she was saying something along the lines of:

'The bad old man starved me for shits and giggles. I'm very hungry. Please feed me. Please call social services and if, possible, Interpol.'

Also, she and the others kept calling me Conan for some reason. Unless that word meant something in their language.

"You know, for someone who doesn't speak Korean, you came very close." The loon said from the side. "As for why they're calling you Conan, well. They don't get too many movies around these parts and you are a dead-ringer for the 1982 movie version. What with all the muscles and you having more or less the same hair and facial structure. Only your hair is natural and not a wig. That and you actually might be taller and bigger, overall."

He then pointed at the girl in front of me.

"Her family was actually sent to a camp for distributing foreign movies so it fits that she calls you that. The others probably picked it up from her."

"She looks nine." I forced myself to say. "She should be in school.... what? What did you put her through?"

"Okay, first of all. That is very hurtful Cecil. I didn't put her through anything. The government here did. On the contrary, I brought her here to be fed and clothed. By you."

"So you could send her to the Dungeon that's about to spring up." I wheezed. Voice trembling with emotion.

"Also, she's not nine. She's one year older than you. What you see is the result of chronic malnourishment."

He slapped my back. Hard.

"So, you better get a move on and show your stuff! Casper is bringing your monsters here as we speak! So your new charges had better be ready to fight for their food if they know what's good for them! I tell you now Cecil! We'll get late-stage cores out of all of them!"