“Th-there!” stammered the newly-christened Moss. “All done!”

The golem took her hand away from her new best friend and inspected it thoroughly.

“You missed a spot,” she declared with a pang of dissatisfaction in her voice. “Right here, between the thumb and index finger.”

“Ack! I’m sorry! I’ll get it right away!”

Having said that, the gnome that had tried to rob the golem earnestly resumed scrubbing her hand with a wet washcloth. The two of them were doing this by an out-of-the-way well behind some apartment buildings. The residents seemed to have made something of a tucked-away grove of green amidst the sea of gray and white stone. There was a giant oak tree in the middle of it, a small field of patchy grass surrounding it and even a few flowers. It wasn’t much, but it was a miracle any vegetation would grow in a spot that got so little sunlight, so it was certainly impressive in its own way.

As for the well in question, it had fallen into disrepair since the buildings all had indoor plumbing and there was little to no use for it. The hand-pump that was supposed to draw water from it had rusted over to the point where it was almost impossible to actually move the lever. And even if someone managed it, the water that came out of the spout would undoubtedly be murky and stink of rusk. Thankfully for Fizzy, or more specifically for Moss, a quick application of Metallopathy-channeled healing magic had restored it to prime condition, allowing the gnome to easily get a stream of clean water from it.

Which was necessary to wash out all the dwarf blood that was stuck to Fizzy’s fingers, forearm, and forehead.

“Is- Is that better?” asked the gnomish lad as if seeking her approval.

“Hmm… It’ll do, I suppose,” she answered while opening and closing her fist several times.

It wasn’t like the caked-on blood would impede her movement or anything. She just hated leaving her glorious body sullied in meatbag filth. Normally she would clean herself, but ‘normally’ she would have a second hand to actually do so, which was why she had to borrow Moss’s assistance. As for why the teenager was doing everything she said, it probably had to do with how thoroughly she had ‘befriended’ his partner in crime earlier. Right in front of his eyes.

“Well, that’s that then,” declared Fizzy. “Later kid, and stay out of trouble.”

The gnomish pickpocket watched silently for a few moments as the mithril golem began walking off.

“You… You’re leaving?”

Okay, maybe not as ‘silently’ as he should have.

“Of course I’m leaving. I got stuff to do, people to see. None of which are in this damn town.”

“Can- Can I come with you?”

“Nope,” she answered instantly without looking back.

“Come on! I’m sure I can be of help!”

He took a small run up to keep pace with the golem that tried her best to ignore him.

“What if you get stained again?” he pleaded. “You’d need an attendant, right? It would be a shame to keep someone as dazzling as yourself in anything other than spotless condition!”

Something about his words finally made Fizzy stop and turn around to look at him. However, the look on her shiny face was much more hostile than the young lad had expected.

“Listen here, meat,” she said in a menacingly quiet voice. “You should count your lucky stars there’s too many witnesses around here.”

She jerked her head up and to the side, towards the dozen or so people that were peeking out of their apartment windows. Moss was momentarily taken aback, as he hadn’t really noticed any of them until now. Normally the citizens didn’t just stare at others like that, but he knew from personal experience that Fizzy’s radiant countenance drew attention like moths to a flame.

“If it weren’t for them,” she continued, “I’d squash you flat here and now for daring to steal my precious, and nobody would give a shit. So get lost before I have to get myself bloody by beating you half to death like your friend back there!”

The dwarf that had tried to abandon Moss and abscond with Fizzy’s ‘inheritance’ was left alive since her pummeling of his face had drawn a small crowd. While beating a thief bloody for daring to steal someone else’s hard-earned property was to be expected in dwarven society, outright killing them was generally frowned upon. And the highly conspicuous golem seriously wanted to avoid any more trouble from the city’s coppers.

“He’s not my friend!” shouted the boy. “No friend of mine would just leave me like that and run off with the loot! And you’re right! Nobody cares about me! None of these arseholes would give a shit about me if I wound up dead or missing! ‘Neighbourhood spirit’ my arse!”

He then turned towards a particular direction and pointed directly at a plump looking old lady with gray hair and a wrinkled face.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you Mrs Rattlebolt! You’re an ugly, evil cow, and I hope your alcoholic husband strangles you to death one of these days!”

His outburst made nearly all of the peeping toms hide their heads. Seeing those people turn tail brought a small measure of satisfaction to the boy, but Fizzy remained wholly unmoved.

“So? If they don’t care about you, then why should I?”

“Because you-! Uh… That’s right! You need me to get on the mag-rail!”

“… Did you just say mag-rail?”

Hearing those words had momentarily thrown Fizzy for a loop, as she was wholly unprepared for this blast from the past.

“Uh, yeah. Mag-rail. You know, the mag-rail? The big yellow box that glides along this thin strip of steel at idiotic speeds?  You’re really not from around here, are you?”

As far as Fizzy knew, the mag-rail was supposed to be just another of her father’s crackpot ideas that never saw the light of day. He had plenty of designs and blueprints, but lacked the funding to build an actual prototype. And yet judging from this boy’s words, not only was that concept made into a reality, but it was already common knowledge.

“No… I guess I’m not.”

Then again, it had been almost two decades since Rory Fizzlesprocket had left the Horkensaft Kingdom, and someone else had probably managed to carry on his work. It wasn’t like scientific progress had taken a vacation just because he wasn’t around, after all.

“Why would I want to ride this mag-rail though?”

“Because you’re headed to Gun Tarum, right? What, were you planning to take a carriage there or something?”

“Of course not. I was planning to walk the whole way, actually.”

“For real?! That’s hardcore!”

Sure, it was a huge distance across winding, rough terrain, but that didn’t matter much to a golem like Fizzy. She didn’t need to eat, drink, or sleep, meaning she could jog the whole way without taking a single break. In actuality, if her trip from Azurvale to Steelhead was any indication, she’d actually make better time than a horse-drawn carriage. She’d also get to take as many murder-happy detours as she wanted without some blonde bimbo questioning her motives.

But now that she knew the mag-rail was a thing, she was rapidly reconsidering her travel plans. She wouldn’t be able to call herself an Artificer if she didn’t personally inspect this marvel of modern technology, after all. She was so curious about it that she probably would’ve gone to check it out even if it wasn’t going to take her to her destination.

There was just one little problem.

“… How did you know I was headed to Gun Tarum?”

“Uh, I may have… sort of… overheard you and that blonde lady argue about it earlier…”

“Oh, right. There was a lot of yelling involved, huh?”

In fact, that very public argument was how Moss and his dwarven accomplice had come across Fizzy in the first place. They had seen an unimaginably expensive and possibly malfunctioning golem carrying three heavy Bags of Holding, so they naturally assumed she’d be loaded in addition to being an easy target. Having found their mark, they then tailed her for a bit before making their move. The dwarf walked in front of her, intending to bump into her in order to distract her and give his partner an opportunity to relieve her of her financial burdens.

At least that was the plan, until he realized that going through with it would be like walking into a brick wall and swerved away from her path at the last second. His bizarre movements still caught her attention, however, and the green-haired gnome took advantage of this and lifted the heaviest-looking Bag of Holding off her person. The magical container had quite a bit of heft to it even with the weight reduction enchantment on it, which almost made him fumble and drop it. But he didn’t, and had managed to slip away with it before Fizzy had realized that her luggage had lightened by several kilograms.

Something she wouldn’t have failed to notice if she had been a flesh-and-blood gnome rather than a magically animated pile of precious metal.

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“Okay. Let’s say for the sake of argument that I’ve decided to ride the mag-rail to the capital,” she consented. “Now, why in the hell would I want a pointlessly squishy tag-along like you?!”

“B-b-because! They don’t let unattended golems onto the monorail!” he blurted out at an amazingly rapid pace. “I realize you’re only half-golem, or a curse-bearer or something, so I know there’s a person in there, but you’re gonna have a hard time convincing those damned coppers! But if I was with you, I could get you onboard real easy! I’d need to pose as your owner and stuff, but it would be, like, entirely temporary!”

“…”

Fizzy quietly contemplated his words. It wasn’t the worst suggestion ever, as it would allow her to circumvent some of the regulations that the Horkensaft Kingdom had on golems. At the same time, however, the idea of having some pathetic meatbag who couldn’t even fend for himself as her ‘owner’ was a bit sickening. Even if it was only on paper.

“I think we should go for it, boss,” chimed in Plus when she noticed her other self’s indecision. “The sooner we get to Gun Tarum, the sooner we can get our arm fixed up and start working on building up our rep!”

The Parallel entity made a good point, as per usual. There were probably a few tourists who knew of Azurvale’s Rustblood Juggernaut, but this wasn’t Azurvale, and neither was the dwarven capital. Nobody in this country knew her circumstances - be they manufactured or genuine - so trying to get anything done by herself would be a huge pain.

Truth be told, she had also been having doubts about taking on Horkensaft’s arena circuit in her current condition. After all, her fighting style relied quite a bit on the use of her shield arm, which was currently in pieces. Not to mention that not being able to even clean herself properly was mildly depressing. That being the case, expediting her repairs seemed like the wisest course of action, which meant making her way towards Gun Tarum with all haste.

I can’t say I can trust this guy, though, argued Fizzy. If it were me, I’d never forgive anyone who took one of my precious limbs away from me.

“Tell me about it. I kind of wish we had the ability to defecate just so we could go take a dump on that guy’s grave. But! This moss-headed moron isn’t a cold-hearted badass like us. He’s just some punk kid who’s in over his head.”

That’s precisely what I’m worried about. He just might be stupid enough to try and double-cross me.

“Normally I’d agree with you, but we did technically save his life. Or at least he seems to think so. I think we can trust the fact that he’s indebted to us.”

So you’re saying I should have faith? In this guy?!

“Well, he’s been awfully cooperative so far, right?”

That was actually a bit of an understatement. Moss had done everything Fizzy had told him ever since the two of them became best friends with minimal complaint. He didn’t even utter a peep while Fizzy repeatedly broke his dwarven accomplice. If anything, he seemed to have grown somewhat attached to her, if the fervor with which he insisted to tag along was any indication.

“Besides,” continued Plus, “I really want to ride that mag-rail!”

Yeah, I know. Me too.

“Alright, kid,” said the golem after concluding her mental deliberations. “I’ll grant you the privilege of showing me around for a bit.”

In the end she decided that taking a chance on this guy was worthwhile. After all, she wouldn’t be able to call herself a follower of Jumanji if she avoided a gamble just because it might turn out bad for her.

“Yes!” said Moss with a fist pump. “Trust me, you won’t regret… you won’t reg… Hat-choo!”

The boy sneezed suddenly, letting out a spray of spit and mucus in the process. Luckily for him, he turned his head at the last second, otherwise Fizzy would’ve had to wash a lot more than snot off her body.

“Ah, sorry about that,” he said while wiping his nose on his arm. “I guess I shouldn’t be running around half-naked in this weather, hahaha!”

His upper body was still more or less exposed ever since he ripped apart his coat earlier, and with autumn steadily turning into winter the climate was naturally quite chilly. He just hadn’t noticed it in all the excitement. But now that the adrenaline rush was over, he was starting to shiver so much that his teeth began to rattle audibly.

“Ugh,” groaned Fizzy. “That’s why meatbags are so bothersome. Just go get yourself dressed already, will you?”

It wasn’t like she was worried about his health or anything, but if he was going to accompany her, then he had to at least make himself look presentable.

“And make it snappy!”

“Sure! Be right back, Fizzy!”

The boy ran off into one of the buildings, leaving the golem alone in the courtyard. She didn’t have anything in particular to do, so she just sort of paced around idly as she waited for him. After a few minutes of this she wound up staring at the faint traces of dried up blood on her knuckles. It wasn’t because they particularly stood out or anything like that, though. In fact, if it wasn’t for her Perception (PER) enhanced sight, she probably wouldn’t even notice them. But she did, and now she was unable to un-see them.

But the real reason she wound up staring at them was because her thoughts had drifted off to the same direction they always did whenever she had nothing to do.

“I don’t have to be in your head to tell you’re thinking about Boxxy again,” noted Plus. “But it sure helps.”

“I can’t help it,” she muttered. “I mean, Boxxy always took such good care of me. He gave me plenty of attention, and made sure to thoroughly clean and polish my frame. I don’t think anything can make me shine the way he did.”

“It.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Boxxy was an ‘it,’ not a ‘he.’”

“Oh. Uh, right. I knew that.”

The golem suddenly turned around while swinging her fist, stopping it mere millimeters away from Moss’s startled face. She then flicked her finger, striking him in the forehead and knocking him on his ass. Given the child’s frailty, it was probably like being beaned in the head with a brick.

“Ouch! What was that for?!”

“Don’t you ever try to use your Sneak Skill on me again,” said Fizzy coldly. “Otherwise you won’t get off so easily next time.”

“I didn’t mean to! I mean, yes! Okay! I won’t!”

“Good. Now, are you just about ready to get a move on?”

“Yeah,” said the gnome while rising to his feet and rubbing his forehead. “All set for departure!”

He had wrapped a blue scarf around his neck and covered his upper body a long black coat similar to his old one. However, this one seemed to be a size or too big for him, judging from the way it hung off his slim frame. The way his left sleeve hung off his stump was a bit weird, but overall he looked less like a hobo and more like a traveler. He also seemed to have brought some a little something extra with him.

“What’s that?” asked Fizzy while nodding at the light brown duffel bag slung across his torso.

“Oh, this? Ah, just traveling necessities! Y’know, clean clothes, some food. Stuff us meatbags need.”

“Will the trip really take that long?”

“Yeah. It’ll take like 3 days to get to the capital.”

The golem quizzically raised an eyebrow at those words.

“You sure about that?”

If what she remembered of her father’s boasts was correct, the mag-rail should’ve been able to cover the 900 kilometer distance between Steelhead and Gun Tarum in a matter of hours, not days. Then again, that sort of speed was mostly theoretical. She had no way of known what sort of compromises its creators had made in order to make it work.

“Not really, to be honest,” admitted the gnome while nervously scratching his lawn-like head. “I haven’t actually ridden it, so I’m just telling you what I heard. I mean, I always wanted to give it a try, but I’ve never had a reason to leave town. Or the, uh, money to afford a ticket in the first place…”

“I get it. So you want me to foot the bill for your little adventure, is that it?” said Fizzy in a slightly accusatory tone.

“No! No! I mean, yes, but also no! It’s just that, like, uh, they’ll only ask me for a ticket, you see, so you only have to buy one of them anyway!”

“… I’m going to be treated as luggage, aren’t I?”

“Y-yeah…”

Fizzy let out a thoroughly displeased groan that sounded like a steel bridge was crumbling under some unseen strain. It really was surprising how much noise someone that small could make.

She really should have expected that sort of treatment, though. After all, common sense around these parts dictated that golems were to be treated either as tools and equipment, or as threats. Depending on their point of origin, of course. But since Fizzy was neither built in a foundry nor born as a wild golem, she had to settle for one of those two options, at least for the moment. And one of them was significantly less likely to result in a subjugation Quest or a bounty on her head.

“Fine, let’s just get this over with,” she consented.

“Right! I’ll guide you to the station, then!” said Moss with a bit too much enthusiasm. “Ah, actually, you might want to get rid of those clothes of yours.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Well, they’re, like, all bloody. And stuff. You got some, uh, dwarf on your shirt there. Besides, domestic golems don’t normally wear clothes. Not the ones I’ve seen, anyway.”

“Right, you kind of have a point there.”

Fizzy mainly wore clothes because she wanted to be perceived as a person rather than an item or a mindless monster. Well, she was very much a monster both inside and out, but definitely not a mindless one. That being said, she immediately began stripping on the spot, right in front of Moss and the dozen-or-so spectators that were still leaning out of their homes around her.

Of course, being the hopelessly narcissistic exhibitionist that she was, this didn’t bother her in the slightest. In fact, she seemed to make something of an accidental strip show out of it since she was still getting the hang of dressing and undressing herself with just one arm. Getting the blouse off her torso without ripping it, for example, was always a bit of a struggle, as it always got caught on her incredibly hard nipples.

Once she was completely naked, the golem stuffed her outfit into one of her bags.

“Actually, carrying my own luggage should be fine, right?” she pondered aloud for a moment. “Yeah, it’s probably fine.”

Domestic golems were mostly used for heavy lifting anyway, so it would definitely help with what she hoped would be a very temporary front. Having made up her mind, she quickly gathered up her trio of melon-sized Bags of Holding in a small pile, lifted them up in her right arm, and pressed them securely against her private pair of permanently perky peaks.

“Alright, all set. Now, which way to the mag-rail station?”

“… Uhm! S-south,” squeaked out the grass-haired gnome.

“Okay. Make sure you don’t fall behind now, yeah? Otherwise I’d have to get someone else to serve as my meat puppet.”

The mithril golem then began moving out, with the teenage gnome following a few meters from behind. He kept giving her short, succinct directions such as ‘left’ or ‘turn right here’ while walking down the street, but was otherwise strangely silent the whole time. It was the quietest he’d ever been since meeting Fizzy, as he had spent most of that time either whimpering, screaming in pain from all the friendship, or pleading to accompany her on her journey.

In reality, the young gnome’s twitchy disposition wasn’t because he was leading her into an ambush or anything like that.

Simply put, Moss just wasn’t as in control of himself as someone with more life experience would be. This led to him saying some things he didn’t really mean to, and the outcome of his rash actions left him feeling surprisingly uncomfortable. And he had nobody but himself to blame for his current predicament, as it was his own lack of foresight that led to this situation. For while Fizzy’s dazzling frame was certainly the feast for the eyes he was expecting it to be, he wasn’t counting on her being so… anatomically accurate.

To put it another way, the adolescent virgin had spouted a bunch of vague-sounding bullshit so he could see the shiny lady naked. It worked, and he was treated to an unobstructed view of an adult woman’s nude body. This gave him the most awkward boner of his life, making him fear for the little guy’s well-being should the golem find out about it.

He was, of course, completely oblivious to the fact that Fizzy already knew all that, and was simply teasing him for her own enjoyment.