Chapter 149: Technical Incompatibility
With tremendous feelings of confidence and optimism coursing throughout his body and mind, Jimmy extended both his arms and placed his palms flat on the smooth and mysteriously cool birchwood that made up the gargantuan entryway to F30.
“You really think this’ll work?” he asked Tena.
“I bet it will. Just try!”
Jimmy laughed and gave it a heavy shove. Despite its massive size, the huge, theater-screen-sized gate surprisingly began to move; a loud, ominous creak filled the world as it slowly continued to slide, first becoming ajar and then revealing something of a golden light that seeped into this wide, flat, carpeted area that they’d all summited like a mountain. Clearly, the gate was designed to be pushed open just like a great many of the other doors to be found in dungeons. Without using much strength at all, the door continued to swing the rest of the way open until, finally, he and his raid members could make their way inside. But first, his eyes were met with a stunning sight that greeted him from beyond this giant door: one that caused the other adventurers to release audible murmurs that suggested they too were impressed with what they saw.
Inside was a beautiful, massive, and royal hallway wide enough so that twenty people could stand shoulder to shoulder and still not cover half the width of it. Amazed, Jimmy saw that the hall was resplendent with dazzling, golden chandeliers that cast a nurturing glow about the place, as well as to-scale, ceramic statues depicting various types of horses. There were numerous wool carpets with intricate, geometric patterns woven into the fabric, and they were laid on top of shiny, polished-looking hardwood flooring. There was even a piano not far from the entrance in the back-left corner that was partially covered by an elegant, silk-like cloth draped over the top. In front of it was a leather-studded bench with a stack of what looked like musical compositions laid down on it. But the most noticeable thing of all was the sound of music: specifically, a fancy melody that sounded composed by a small, violin-centric orchestra. Where it originated from, Jimmy could not tell, as the notes seemed to be produced by the very air itself.
“Well, what do we have here?” Reni Sarwin asked.
Mister and Misses Britethorn stepped inside and then both visibly inhaled deep breaths of air through their noses. “The smell here is wonderful.”
It did smell very pleasant. The air was cool, fresh, and invigorating, and it contained a hint of perfume. But there was more, too: there was the smell of freshly-cooked meat among other types of food. And indeed, on the right side of the hall, about fifty feet in, there were tables upon tables stacked to the brim with numerous tin-covered trays. From the smell alone, Jimmy was willing to bet that entire chickens, ham, pork, and other meats could be found beneath the lids of those trays. He also thought he caught a whiff of chocolate cake or brownies—or something of the sort.
“Now this ain’t something I’ve seen before,” Donovan said with a grunt.
Zephyr, who stood by his side, nodded. “Not your typical boss floor.”
One by one, the members of the raid poured into F30, and all fanned out around Jimmy, who stood frontmost to them all. With so many eyes now focused upon him, he quickly searched the fancy area ahead of him for any signs of traps. Content there were none, he took a step forward. Then a second. Then a third. And then a fourth. But on the fifth, something happened the moment he lifted his foot. Something he didn’t expect.
The music stopped abruptly, cutting off mid-note, and a twisted, evil laughter replaced it. It was loud, shrill, and seemed to come from everywhere at once: in front of them, behind them, above and even below them. It boomed with such intensity that, the moment of its appearance, several adventurers flinched, others drew their weapons, and a few even made ducking motions as though reflexively trying to avoid an attack. Thankfully, the laughter cut off after a few seconds, and now, a voice replaced it.
“Welcome, adventurers!” it said. The voice was very deep, highly masculine, and it sounded like a demon out of hell. “I am glad that you all have arrived. Please! Make yourselves at home, hah-heh-heh! Let me assure you all that you will find no traps or trickery here in my royal palace. For I, the Imp Lord Tzumazleth, have awaited such worthy challengers as yourselves. At the end of this hall, you shall find me waiting. But I do not bid that you rush! Feel free to rest. Eat. You may even sleep if you so wish. I seek a challenge and want to face you at your best. But I do warn you, adventurers: do not approach my chambers until you are prepared—to die! Hah-heh-heh-hah! Ahhh-ha-ha-ha-haaaa!”
Jimmy scratched his head. Then he turned around to face the others. “So, I think ya’ll will agree with me that we can’t trust a goddamn word that dude just said, right?”
“Hell no!” Rian shouted in agreement. “I’m just going to assume the food is poison.” He grinned mischievously. “I might still try it anyway though just to be sure.”
Lienne punched his arm. “Not funny! I so don’t trust you not to give into the temptation, Ri.” To Jimmy, she said, “And yeah, I’m not big on trusting spooky imp creatures either.”
Donovan barked out a laugh. “I agree with the kids. We should stay away from the food and the—”
Dear Adventurers: welcome to F30 in Trials of Nolak! Although other forms of teleportation are functional, due to an unforeseen technical incompatibility that arose long after this dungeon’s creation, we were unable to build a direct doorway-link to Angelica’s anywhere in Trials of Nolak. To compensate, please enjoy a forever-fresh meal before each boss fight beginning on F30 as well as always clean inn rooms down the hall and to your right past the cafeteria. A FREE teleportation to the grand library in Slopes of Dal’Zarrah can be activated by speaking to the inn-master and saying “teleport,” however this function, along with the existence of all food, beverage, and lodgings, will only remain in existence while the boss is spawned. Otherwise, it will return following the weekly dungeon reset. Thank you for understanding. (Message will auto close in 30…29…28…)
It was almost comical how silent the entire raid became as each and every adventurer—including Fluffles—halted whatever they were doing to read the floating message that’d popped up in the air. Once Jimmy himself had finished reading it, he coughed into his hand then said, “Okay, I guess we can trust the food after all.”
“Hurray!” Fluffles shouted out. And without another word, he took off like a bullet down the hall, even as Maric called at him to wait up. A moment later, there was a blinding flash, and a bolt of lightning struck down from the ceiling, knocking the tin lid off one of the trays. Then Jimmy saw him scampering away along the floor with his mouth wrapped around the leg of an entire cooked chicken.
“Fluffles get back here!” Kalana shouted at him.
Fluffles moved even faster, retreating into a room on the right. The last sight Jimmy had of him was his little body scurrying into the room with a whole damn chicken dragging along the carpet behind him. With a laugh, he said, “I could eat. Anyone else?”
The question wasn’t even necessary. By the time five minutes had come and gone, all sixty raid members were sitting at long, white tables that reminded him of those found in a high-school cafeteria, with plates that were stocked high with food. All around them on little shelves built into the walls were plastic cups, straws, and machines that dispensed soda, juice, water, ice, and other various drinks such as teas and coffees. There were also little plastic bins that could be pushed aside to reveal cakes, sweets, and candy. Food wasn’t half bad, either. Still, it was no Angelica’s.
Can’t complain when it’s free, though, Jimmy thought with a grin.
At the back of the room, with his hands at his side, was a level-250 NPC named “Inn-Master George.” Though Jimmy was hardly an expert in the matters of sentience, he felt pretty comfortable stating the NPC was emphatically not “alive” in the way that Grundor, Angelica, and that dinosaur, Ruby, happened to be. This one simply stared out at the world with vacant eyes and a permanent, almost plastic smile plastered onto its face, saying nothing and doing nothing—never moving from that one spot with its back against the rear of the cafeteria’s wall.
“Everybody, eat up and rest for a bit,” Jimmy said. “Relax, chat, drink, and digest. Because then we’re moving out and taking down that imp son of a bitch. You got it?”
The entire cafeteria filled with roars and cheers from the other adventurers, many of whom were holding chicken or turkey legs in their greasy hands as they raised their fists up in excitement. This was going well. He had no idea why Donovan had finally allowed him to take charge. He didn’t understand what had finally caused the man to see the value in him. But Jimmy was glad that he had, because there was no better choice to lead this raid than he, one of just two people in hundreds of years who’d actually been willing to brave it in the first place.
“Jimmy, I can’t believe they made you raid leader,” Tena said to him. “I’m so happy for you.”
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“I’m happy for me too,” he admitted.
Seated next to him, she grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I’m so excited for you. You’re gonna do so great. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. You’re going to blow everyone’s minds.”
He kissed her on the cheek. “Of course I will.”
“Why won’t you eat, though? You’ve barely touched your food. Is it because of the time?”
“The…time?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “It’s like 1AM back on Galterra right now.”
“Oh, right,” he said, releasing a quiet chuckle. “Nah, it’s not that at all. I’m just excited.”
“Well, try to eat.”
“I will.”
At the moment, Jimmy wasn’t that hungry, yet he forced himself to eat anyway, because he knew he needed to keep his strength up and fuel his brain. And it really, truly wasn’t the time of the day that hindered his appetite, because both here in this new world and back at home, he was no stranger to getting the munchies at 1AM while raiding a dungeon. It was actually why he’d fallen out of the gym and had gotten a bit flabby in the first place in the days leading up to his “death” on Earth. No, in this case, what held back his appetite was pure, sheer excitement. One that he was sure could be felt by all those around him. It was obvious just by looking.
I’m finally gonna show them what I know!
Jimmy had a really good feeling about this. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits and willing to cooperate with him and each other. Even Fluffles was behaving to the best of his ability, as despite threatening to “kill” his “daddy,” he ended up relinquishing half of his chicken after running away with it while Maric chased him around the room.
“I get the other half later,” Fluffles said. “Daddy gives me the other half later.”
“All right, but only if you promise not to eat anything else until our next meal.”
“I promise.”
The cat jumped up onto one of the tables, then hopped from one to the next until sitting down in front of Jimmy, staring into his eyes. “Why Jimmy have weird powers?” he asked, the question coming seemingly out of nowhere. “Jimmy move things and read minds?”
“Huh?” Jimmy asked. “Is that supposed to be some kinda riddle?
“Jimmy not the same as everyone.”
“How so?” Jimmy asked, confused.
“I appraise.”
“What do you even mean when you say ‘appraised?’ You said that to me once before, and back then, I also didn’t—hey, wait! Why’re you running off while I’m…ah, whatever.”
Fluffles didn’t seem to want to elaborate. He ran off to go play with Kalana. Jimmy shrugged and forgot all about it. He was finally leading a raid! The thing he’d been sent here to do. It was one of the reasons he was so confident. It was why he knew he would succeed. That woman, Eilea—she hadn’t chosen to drag him thousands of years into the future unless he really was born to do this: unless he really was the person meant to be leading these raids. Thus, putting Fluffles out of mind, Jimmy decided that, for the time being, he would continue to think up possible raid strategies to keep himself sharp up until the moment it all began. He was ready to kick some ass.
******
Having nearly made his way off the beach and into the city, Zach stopped in his tracks as a large patrol consisting of four leveled guild-members and eight, armed, level-1 infantry chose that exact moment to turn the corner off a neighboring block and begin making their way onto the boardwalk; the bunch of them were passing by right near a ramp that led directly down onto the sand where Zach was standing. Though it was now after midnight, the city had put up work lights and spotlights everywhere, and there was no singular place this close to the city that was dark enough to be completely obscured.
Thinking fast, Zach dashed backwards, the sand muting any sound of his movement, and then he hid behind a pay-to-use shower: the very same one that he’d washed himself inside the last time he was here; it’d been just before he’d taken Kalana to Angelica’s for the first time. Holding his breath, he listened as the sound of their footsteps tapped softly against the wooden boardwalk. Peeking out his head just slightly, he saw that all eight of the rifle-wielding troops had lights shining from out of the barrels of their guns, and two of the guild-members—low rank from their plain coats—were using flashlights. Were they looking for him? Had they already been alerted?
“Why are we out here?” one of them asked, grunting and spitting a wad of saliva off the boardwalk and onto the sand. It ended up landing not far from Zach’s right foot. “We should be bolstering the city’s defenses with the others.”
“Shut your damn mouth, Kolen,” a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties said. She too appeared to be a leveled member of the guild. “It’s your fault. You and your Gods-be-damned mouth got us into trouble in the first place. That’s why. Now you’ve got all of us stranded here with you policing drunks out past curfew.” For a few seconds, there was quiet, and then the woman made a guttural-sounding growl. “Gods! Why couldn’t you just stay quiet? Why did you have to comment on Major Baxtra’s receding hairline?”
“I didn’t think he’d find out!”
“Yeah, well, he did.”
Still holding his breath, Zach released it very slowly before carefully drawing another. As he observed the twelve members of this patrol group, he noticed one of them beginning to turn their head in his direction. Quickly, Zach slinked once more behind the showering and restroom area, pressing his back flat against the door of the one behind him.
Just move on, Gods damn you. Just move on!
If necessary, Zach could use the ability on his cloak, Shadow Merge, to make himself invisible for thirty seconds. The only problem was the ability came saddled with a half-hour cooldown, and if Zach ended up needing it later on, it wouldn’t be available to him. Realizing this, he decided to play it cool for now and see if he could keep out of sight. Hopefully, they would linger here for only a short while longer and then go about their business.
“I gotta take a shit,” the guy who’d been called Kolen said.
“You are a shit.”
If not for the need to be silent, Zach would’ve hissed out a choice swear word or two. Why couldn’t these idiots just move along? And why did he have to learn the guy’s name? He didn’t want to know the man’s name. That was going to make this so much harder now. He began to feel his anxiety rising, but he tamped down on it. Though faint, he could hear the man’s footsteps as they stepped down the rickety ramp and then became much, much quieter once reaching sand.
“No, I’m the shit,” the idiot said with a chuckle, his voice drawing nearer and nearer. He was so close now. How close? Zach wasn’t sure. Inches? Feet? Even closer than that? He didn’t know. But he soon found out. Oh, he sure did.
For some reason, the man’s footsteps actually quieted the nearer he got. It’d been incredibly difficult to hear him in the first place. The only reason Zach had been able to do so at all was because there was crunchy war debris all over the beach that made a very slight sound whenever walked over, and this stuff was basically everywhere—well, not everywhere, apparently. As it turned out, there was none in the spot just to Zach’s left and to the side of the four showering units and two bathroom stalls, behind which he was hiding. This meant that, unable to hear his approach, Zach was caught off guard as the guy abruptly stepped around the bend, came into view, and recoiled immediately upon seeing Zach.
“Whoah, buddy,” he said, surprise on his face. “Scared the hell out of me. I didn’t even know there was someone using the…” His eyes lowered down to Zach’s blood-stained hands, and then they bulged. He inhaled. He opened his mouth. He was going to scream for help!
“He—uhhghhh!”
In one swift motion, Zach drew his sword then sent it jutting forward; it disappeared an instant later, traveling into the guy’s mouth until exiting the back of his head with a terrible-sounding tearing and a horrific, but thankfully brief gagging sound unlike anything Zach had heard before. An instant later, Zach yanked his arm back and pulled his blade right back out the way it’d gone in. The full length of it was once again stained in blood, which he shook off.
This was bad. Very bad. Because now he would have to kill every single one of them.
“Kolen?” the woman’s voice called, sounding amused. “The hell was that noise?” She muttered something Zach couldn’t decipher. And now, she, too, began to make her way over, as evident by the similar crunching sound as she stepped on debris. This time, Zach was not about to let himself be surprised a second time.
“Kolen, what the fuck was that sound?” she asked, her voice now sounding closer. She rounded the bend. “Kolen, you’re—”
Fear and recognition lit up in her eyes, but both came too late. With his right hand, Zach smacked his palm onto her lips, shushing her, and then he squeezed, spinning her around and crashing her with a far-too loud thud into the door behind her. He ended up using way more force than he’d intended, as not only did he fail to be quiet, he ended up putting her through the door, sending wood chips and beams scattering with a gigantic crack before slamming her down onto her back on the damp portable-shower flooring. Then, with his sword gripped in his left hand, he thrust it straight down, running her through the heart, killing her.
“What the fuck?” shouted voices: many of them. All were approaching.
Gods dammit!
Rather than wait for them to come to him, Zach backed out of the portable shower, then darted forward while leaping high into the air. In an instant, he cleared twenty feet, sailed up and over the ramp, and then he landed near the middle of the pack of the eight level-1 troops. Turning his sword so that it faced downwards, he fell practically on the back of one of the men, driving his sword straight through the soldier’s spine while simultaneously causing him to be slammed down onto the boardwalk. Getting up as fast as he could, Zach pulled his sword out of the man’s corpse, then spun around and decapitated the soldier behind him—and all in what felt like one fluid motion.
Without pause, Zach continued his assault. He slashed a level-1 troop three times, carving him apart and sending three sprays of blood in opposite directions. Then he swung his blade twice more and killed another two men. In total, he’d killed five of the eight troops before the other three could even mentally process his presence. And then he took them down too before they could react to it.
Now, there was just a young man and a young woman who both flinched and grabbed at one another the moment they saw him. They were so afraid they didn’t even reach for their weapons. Zach would’ve liked to believe it was due to the effect of his cloak, which gave him a truly evil, menacing look, but he knew they’d have reacted this way even without it.
The one on the left, a young woman, opened her mouth to scream into her Comm. Zach quickly whipped his blade upwards and to the right, slicing off her entire jaw, tongue included. The little piece of tongue that did remain then flapped around in the bloodied, destroyed hole that now made up her face. It was too cruel. Zach couldn’t stand the sight of it. As an act of mercy, he removed the rest of her head to put her out of her misery. The one who remained, however, finally seemed to find his nerve. Rage in his eyes, he reached for two daggers at each of his sides, and he did manage to scream—though not into a Comm.
“You murdered my sister you fucking piece of shit! I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you! You gods-be-damned son of a whore!”
He lunged at Zach, who side-stepped while delivering a downwards strike, which cleanly knocked both daggers out of the man’s hands in one fast attack. Then he struck again, this time in the opposite direction, which sliced off both his attacker’s arms, causing him to scream even more loudly. He wailed in pain. Zach leaned forward while thrusting out his blade, running him through his belly before ripping his sword free. Now, raising his arms high, he made one final cut, which took off the unfortunate soul’s head; it landed right next to his sister’s.
Like before, he proceeded onwards.
This was war. This happened in war.