Strength Based Wizard

Chapter 13

Gate Initiation, Part VII (Back Up the Rabbit Hole)

Ding!

Ding!

DINGDINGDINGDINGDING—!

Oh god.

The pulsing sensation within me is practically matching the frequency of Jelly Boy’s happy vibrations.

The entire right side of my vision blows up with a wall of notifications, stacking on top of each other so fast that I barely catch the first one before it gets buried under a tidal wave of pop-ups.

You have defeated The Gluttonous Bob.

Hell yes, I have! . . . Wait—I defeated him?

The next notification answers that question for me.

You have received partial credit for the defeat of The Gluttonous Bob.

Partial credit awarded to . . . Jelly Boy, Slime.

I blink. And then my face splits into a wide grin. Partly because my new friend Jelly Boy received the credit he deserves, but mostly because the System picked up the name I had instinctively given to the adorable little slime. Jelly Boy. Not just Slime, but Jelly Boy. I don’t know why that makes me so stupidly happy, but it does.

I don’t have time to get emotional about it because more notifications are still rolling in.

Level 3 increased to Level 4!

QUEST UPDATE (Bright-Eyed New Adventurer): 5 of 5 monsters killed.

QUEST COMPLETE: Bright-Eyed New Adventurer.

You have received: A Beginner’s Chest (x1).

[2 Stat Points Currently Unallocated. Assign Stat Points?]

I don’t even care about the reward right now. I mentally push the remaining notifications to the side and they get minimized into a barely noticeable blinking line-item at the bottom of my HUD: Outstanding Notifications (5). My unread emails badge puts that to shame.

I cancel the Light cantrip with a simple mental command, and the glowing orb still pulsing inside Jelly Boy winks out. Then, I stuff my wand back into my inventory and take off down the stairs, skipping the last few entirely.

I hit the factory floor running.

Jelly Boy is still sitting in the middle of the green-hued gory mess of what used to be The Gluttonous Bob, jiggling like a happy little abomination, absolutely unbothered by the carnage surrounding him.

I scoop him up, laughing.

“Jelly Boy! You crazy little guy!”

He vibrates excitedly, and I swear to god, I can feel his pure, unfiltered joy through whatever weird connection we’ve got going on.

Best. Slime. Ever.

The adrenaline is still pounding in my veins when I finally notice the groaning. The whimpering . . . the muffled cries of pain.

My grin fades.

I look up from Jelly Boy and really take in the aftermath of The Gluttonous Bob’s rampage.

Holy. Shit.

The factory floor is a massacre. Dead pukwudgies are scattered across the concrete like someone overturned a bucket of broken puppets. A handful are injured but still alive, their tiny bodies curled up, cradled by others of their kind who are desperately trying to stop the bleeding. There are also countless parts and pieces of pukwudgie that had rained over the manufacturing floor when The Gluttonous Bob exploded.

More are just cowering behind machinery, wide-eyed, watching me like I’m the real monster here. Maybe I am.

And others, others aren’t cowering. They’re glowering, throwing absolute death stares in my direction.

Yeah. Yeah, I get it.

I glance at the smeared puddle of green and gore that used to be The Gluttonous Bob. Then at the manufacturing facility turned warzone. My stomach lurches.

Jesus Christ.

The gobblin superintendents seemed awful, sure. They were capitalistic caricatures and annoying as hell. Cruel, too. I’m sure the pukwudgies hated them. But I’m not sure me dropping in, killing them, accidentally summoning that terrifying plasma demon, and unleashing a full-on massacre, was a marked improvement in their current situation. These little goblinoids aren’t human, but god dammit I am racked with guilt.

In the process of trying to complete this dumb Quest, the whole place had turned into a splatterfest of tiny corpses.

I shift awkwardly, rubbing my jaw. “Uh . . . whoops?”

Yeah, that probably doesn’t help. Idiot! Say something else, something better!

Instead, I clear my throat and make a tactful retreat by doing the only thing I can do right now to distract myself from the screaming moral dilemma of what the hell I just walked into. I try and ignore the problem and hope it just goes away.

I begin to awkwardly make my way around the factory floor, trying to avoid stepping on pukwudgie parts.

The gobblin corpses catch my eye.

There’s a faint blue glow around them—just like I’d seen before when I looted the gobblin I Mario stomped to death.

Welp. That’s a clear lootable status if I’ve ever seen one. I hesitate, but only for a moment.

I shuffle over and do what any sane RPG protagonist would do.

I start taking their shit.

The first gobblin’s inventory consists of another Health Potion (Poor Quality) and four Gold Pieces. Not bad, I think.

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I move to the second gobblin corpse. The one I had dropped the weight onto. The one who had responded to one of his pukwudgie workers losing an arm with a droning speech about the merit of hard work and sacrifice.

This gobblin’s inventory offers a little more:

2 Health Potion (Poor Quality)1 Brass AlembicKey to the FactoryMap6 Gold PiecesWhat the hell is an alembic? I think. No time for questions. Into the Inventory it goes!

Key to the Factory. I have an idea about what to do with that, which I tuck away. The next item is what really catches my attention.

Map. Now, that’s interesting. I pull it from the gobblin’s inventory. I hold it up, brow furrowing, as I carefully try to unfold the worn parchment with my free hand. . . And immediately regret doing this in the middle of a room filled with wounded, terrified, and furious pukwudgies.

Yep. They’re still staring at me. Like I might be the next goddamn boss fight. I’m wary of them for the same reason. So, uh… That’s fun. With a mental command, I toss the map into my Inventory.

I scan the room for the fourth and final gobblin, Jelly Boy vibrating happily in the crook of my left arm.

My eyes land on the grinding machine, which is still running—its teeth gnashing together with a steady, mechanical hum.

Oh. Oof.

Yeah, that guy’s not getting looted. Not unless I wanna go elbow-deep in industrial-grade gobblin pâté. Hard pass.

I clear my throat, tearing my gaze away from the fine mist of gobblin viscera decorating the factory walls. Okay. Time to deal with the tiny, pissed-off labor force.

I step forward, one hand raised in what I hope is a universal sign for ‘I come in peace’ and not the universal sign for ‘I am about to cast a fireball.’

“Uh. Hey. So…”

A few pukwudgies flinch. A few others just continue to glare.

Cool. Cool, cool, cool.

I press on.

“Is there, like, someone here with, uh . . . seniority

Silence.

A long, uncomfortable silence.

Then, after what feels like an eternity, one pukwudgie steps forward.

He’s clearly a little older than the others, his fur grayer around the edges, his expression less outright furious and more . . . tired. I know that look.

“Name’s Tom,” he says. His voice is gruff but measured. “Floor supervisor. When the superintendents aren’t around, that is.”

I nod, digesting that. Floor supervisor. So, what, like middle management? He didn’t strike me as the type. Welp. Better than nothing.

I rub the back of my neck. “Right. Uh. So. First off . . . sorry about all this.” I motion vaguely to the apocalyptic horror show surrounding us. “Didn’t exactly mean for things to go down this way.”

Tom just stares at me.

I continue.

“I’ll, uh. I’ll be going now.” I start to take a step back—then pause, remembering.

I reach into my Inventory, pull out the Factory Key and hold it out to Tom.

“This is yours now,” I say.

Tom blinks. Looks at the key. Looks at me. He takes it slowly, like he’s expecting it to burn him.

“…Huh,” he mutters, turning it over in his tiny paws.

I nod. “Good luck.”

And with that, and Jelly Boy tucked under my arm like a squishy little football, I turn and make my way up to the walkway. Up the stairs. And back onto the roof.

Leaving the carnage behind me.

I step back out onto the rooftop of the factory and damn, does it feel good to be back up here. Away from the gore-splattered factory floor. Away from the pukwudgies that probably want to stab me—out of fear or hatred, it probably depends. Away from the ghost of The Gluttonous Bob’s digestive system.

Jelly Boy wobbles excitedly under my arm as I take a second to catch my breath.

I eye the blinking notification ribbon in the bottom right corner of my vision. I activate it and am welcomed by a haptic tingling in the front of my mind as my interface floods with notifications.

[2 Stat Points Currently Unallocated. Assign Stat Points?]

Okay, cool. Stat gains. I quickly drop both of the points in Strength and move onto the next notification.

QUEST UPDATE (Gate Initiation): You have successfully defeated a Rank E Boss. Congratulations.

QUEST UPDATE (Gate Initiation): You have successfully cleared the Level 0 Dungeon of this Realm (Dead World #43).

I exhale sharply. Level 0 Dungeon. Level Zero? That means there’s more. Like, a Level 1. And a Level 2. And a Level Oh-God-Why.

Great!

Another ping echoes in my mind as the notification is replaced with the next one.

QUEST UPDATE (Gate Initiation): You have satisfied the requirements of this Quest. Congratulations.

You may continue onto the next Level Dungeon of this Realm, or use the Return Gate.

My heartbeat kicks up.

Note: Using the Return Gate will close the existing Gate to this Realm.

Okay . . . okay. So, this is it. The exit. The way home. My heart flutters with excitement that I can’t quite put into words.

Reward: You have received one Return Key (Rank E Quality).

I almost whoop out loud. Instead, I suck in a breath, rubbing my free hand down my face in relief.

I’m not stuck here. I can go back.

Then, the final notification springs into my interface.

THE CARDINAL HAND SEES YOU.

My stomach drops. A cold, slithering feeling works its way up my spine. I don’t like that. I really don’t like that.

I stare at the words for a long moment. Then, without any further hesitation, I close the interface.

Nope. Nope nope nope. That’s a later-me problem, I think. Ideally, it’s a never-me problem.

Right now? I just beat a goddamn dungeon, like the Quest description had said. I just got a way back home.

I let out a shaky laugh, looking down at Jelly Boy.

“You hear that, little dude?” I say, grinning. “I’m getting the hell out of here!”

Then, because I'm riding the high, I toss him up in the air. “I’m going home!” I joyfully exclaim.

Jelly Boy spins like a gelatinous basketball, his surface shimmering in the light of the sun.

He lands back in my hands with a happy wobble. He starts to vibrate again, but not like before. Not the excited little quivers. This is different. This is intense. I freeze.

Jelly Boy pulses, shifting colors, his surface going from translucent cerulean to inky black, rippling like spilled oil. The inkiness in his body quickly coalesces and two black, intelligent eyes pop into existence just beneath his once-again-blue surface.

They blink. Then close in what looks like a smile.

I stare.

Jelly Boy wiggles happily in my hands.

“Holy crap,” I whisper. “That’s weird.”

I pull the Return Key out of my Inventory.

It looks surprisingly unremarkable. An old brass key, the kind you’d use to unlock some dusty trunk in an attic. Loop on one end, ridged teeth on the other. No glowing runes, no crackling power, no ominous whispers of cosmic horror (or whatever you could expect from a key that can open portals between worlds).

Just a key.

I examine it and a description window pops up in my vision.

[Return Key (Rank E Quality): A planar key that can be used to access an open Gate and return to one’s tethered plane.]

Tethered plane? That’s a weird way to say home… I think.

I turn the key over in my palm, frowning. The System gave me the option to continue. To push forward. To face higher-ranked dungeons. But who the hell would pick that?

I pull up my Quest timer. Just under 12 hours left.

While I’m surprised that the fiasco at the factory had only taken a couple of hours, that’s not a lot of time left on my death countdown. If I chose to take on another dungeon could I leave using this key whenever I wanted to? What if I was stuck until I defeated another boss monster? What if the next boss was even worse than The Gluttonous Bob?

I snort. Who am I kidding? Of course, the next boss would be worse than Bob. That’s how these things work.

Only a suicidal idiot would roll those dice and take that chance. I survived by the skin of teeth thanks to Jelly Boy.

I tighten my grip on the key. I know what I need to do.

I focus on the key in my hand. A prompt pops up:

Use Return Key?

I think ‘yes.’

In response, reality rips apart.

The air in front of me splits like a zipper being pulled down, edges crackling with electricity. A glowing keyhole forms in midair, light pouring out in shimmering waves. I swallow hard, then take a deep breath. I place the key into the keyhole.

A low, thrumming pulse rolls through me, vibrating in my bones.

The keyhole expands.

It stretches, unfolding into a full-fledged portal, just like the one I walked through to get here. In my hand, the key dissolves into pixels of light, scattering into the air like fireflies.

I can feel the Gate. Not just see it. Feel it. A tingling sensation crawls up my fingers, buzzing under my skin like static. I take a deep breath, preparing myself to step through the Gate.

Then, carefully, I set Jelly Boy on the ground.

He wobbles in place, watching me with those big, weirdly expressive black eyes.

I grab my coat from where I left it, dust it off, and shrug it back on.

Then I turn back toward the portal, taking in the sight of my one-way ticket back to Cleveland. I look down at my slime companion.

Jelly Boy is still staring at me. Those big, glossy eyes are wide and sad. Puppy dog eyes. On a slime.

Aw, shit.

I rub the back of my neck, suddenly feeling like a jackass.

“I guess this is goodbye, my slimy friend,” I say, forcing a smile. It doesn’t really feel right.

Jelly Boy quivers. Not the happy wiggle. Something else.

Goddammit.

I crouch down and give him a gentle pat. He leans into it like a depressed Jell-O cup.

Then, before I can overthink it, I stand back up and face the portal.

I take a step forward.

Then another.

I stop just before entering. I’m so close to the edge of the portal it feels like I’m bathing my face in static.

I glance back.