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The Eldritch Alchemist (LitRPG)
Chapter 3 - [Dungeon King]

Chapter 3 - [Dungeon King]

Elizabeth took a seat on the couch beside me. She held a mixed drink that, as far as I could tell, was a mixture of rum and cherry cola. Mixed drinks were never really my thing. My alcohol tolerance was so high that I didn’t even bother drinking beer and wine anymore. Straight liquor typically did the job fast enough, and I didn’t taste it after a few shots.

“Jesus!” Liz exclaimed after smelling the antiseptic odor rising from my cup. “What is that, straight vodka?”

“Yep,” I said, taking a sip to look cool. Though I tried my hardest to maintain a poker face, I grimaced hard as the vodka touched my tongue. I just drank the stuff; that doesn’t mean I liked it.

Liz laughed loudly at my discomfort. Devil woman. Feeling the need to get back at her, I said, “Hey, are you even old enough to drink? Aren’t you twenty?”

“What are you, a narc?”

“Neither you nor I are cool enough to use terms like ‘narc.’”

“Speak for yourself. I’m super cool.”

“No one who plays a level 18 Paladin in Dungeon King is cool.”

“Carlos is cool, and he plays a level 18 Assassin.”

“He’s the exception that proves the rule.”

“What does that even mean? How does an exception prove a rule!?”

“I don’t know. That’s just a thing people say.”

Carlos appeared from the kitchen holding a red solo cup of his own. He pulled up a nearby chair and sat across from Liz and me. He said, “So, how’s it going?”

Liz grimaced and slapped me on the shoulder before saying, “I haven’t had time to enjoy my drink with this guy talking my ear off.”

“You initiated the conversation,” I reminded her.

“Whatever. Did you want to say something, Carlos?” Liz asked.

“Yeah. Not to be a buzzkill, but I’ve been thinking about what John said earlier. What do you think Slader, Elstine, and Vinzadir will do now that Octavian’s dead? I mean, Slader’s been killing people for money for more than a decade. How would someone like that acclimate to an era of peace? Also, what the Hell does ‘era of peace’ even mean? I mean, surely there will still be theft and murder.”

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Hearing Slader’s monologue lit a fire of inspiration in my stomach. I had, of course, put much thought into our new lives as normal citizens of Vairekhor.

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“Of course we’ll have a place in the new era. We will be at the center of an industrial revolution,” I said, gesturing meaningfully with my gloved hands. “The technology used in cartridge firearms can be altered to serve as a form of locomotion, but that’s not all.”

“He’s doing the voice again,” Elstine muttered.

“The poisons you created can be altered to create medicine, and the divine magic of Elstine can naturally be used for peaceful purposes. You see? Technological advancements made in a time of war can just as easily be used in times of peace. A sword can be reforged into a scythe.”

I looked around at the lamplit tavern and saw nearly a dozen young people in their late teens or early twenties standing around and drinking from mugs. Though I didn’t recall the tavern, I knew that Slader had invited me there.

Elstine was sitting in the booth next to me, and Slader sat on a stool nearby. Our Paladin had switched out of her plate armor into a thick white shirt and trousers, and Slader’s hood was pulled back, revealing his pointed ears.

“That does make sense, I guess,” Slader said in a strange accent. “We could totally get disgustingly rich by selling the stuff we invented and investing the money we already have. I mean, you invented guns, right?”

I frowned at Slader’s forgetfulness. I must have corrected him on this issue several times. “That’s incorrect. I invented cartridge ammunition. Firearms have been around for hundreds of years.”

“Right, right.” Slader shrugged, clearly not listening. “So, our plan is to start an industrial revolution in Vairekhor and retire with the money.”

“That’s all well and good,” Elstine said, bringing her mug to her lips and grimacing at the taste, “but what are you going to do with the rest of your life?”

“Excuse me?” I asked, confused. We had just been talking about that.

“I mean you, Vincent. You’re the only one of us who’s graduating. When you’re a lawyer, what are you going to do next?”

I was Vinzadir, but we were out among other real people.

One… two… three.

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Suddenly, my arms were bare, and a floral-print Hawaiian shirt hung over my shoulders. I was in Carlos’s living room once more.

“I don’t know,” I said, buying myself time to re-adjust. “I guess I’ll start working for a private law firm and, in twenty years, pivot to a political career if the opportunity presents itself.”

All of what I said was a lie, but I didn’t want Carlos and Elizabeth to worry about me. It would be a miracle if I could pass the background and medical check required to take the Bar Exam. That’s to say nothing of a political career. No one would ever vote for someone like me.

“Anyway, let’s turn the conversation to a less heavy topic. We should give President Blackwell some room to breathe,” Carlos said with a smile.

“‘That depends on what the definition of “is” is,’” I quoted, doing my best Bill Clinton voice.

“‘I did not have sexual relations with that woman,’” Carlos said, mimicking my voice and placing one hand in the air with his palm outward.

Carlos and I exploded into laughter at the stupid joke, and Elizabeth glared at us over her cup. We spent the rest of the night talking about unimportant topics like the upcoming update to Dungeon King and the UNC Basketball team. Well, Carlos talked about the Basketball team. Elizabeth and I knew absolutely nothing about sports.

After a few hours, Carlos and I walked Elizabeth home, and I soon found myself staring at the ceiling of Carlos’s living room through the fog of intoxication. The only people remaining in that room were Carlos and me, and I was content to stare at the ceiling and enjoy the numb feeling of sensory deprivation.

“All right,” Carlos said, slurring his words. “I’m gonna go upstairs. You okay down here, Vincent?”

“Absolutely,” I said with a smile. “Hey, it was a lot of fun.”

“Thanks, man,” Carlos said, and he began to stumble toward the stairs.

I watched him disappear behind a wall, and the light above me flipped off. Within seconds, I was asleep.