CWD: OE ~ Thirty-Four

Reuben and Jennifer were yelling about something that no one could hear, thanks to the calamitous noise of the garbage disposal. Nacho calculated their odds of escape, briefly letting out a whisper of relief that the Godking of Scrub Sponges couldn’t run very well: it had been made for swimming through dishwater and for scraping the burned stuff off of pans.

It took forty-five minutes of wading through the water, even with their enhanced physiques pushed to the very limits, to reach the other side.

“What now?” Brie shouted at the top of her lungs, directly into Nacho’s ear—the only way to be heard. Scratch-Bite roared behind them and dove into the water, trying to swim, but luckily the water level was still too low for it to be able to move well. The monster ended up flopping and flailing around, trying to find water deep enough for it to use its webbed hands and feet.

Nacho fished a glob of the shredded Grease Slime out of the water, squishing it in his hands and feeling it congeal and start to harden. He hurried over and slapped the grease on the side of the sink, where it stuck. A moment later, he hopped atop the glob and found that the dried slime could hold his weight. “We can use the grease to create a ladder!”

Reuben and Taye understood exactly what he was trying to do and rushed over to slap more grease on the sink wall. Nacho started climbing, slapping  tossed greaseballs onto the wall. All in all, it was no different than a climbing rock wall all at any given YMCA. He created a series of little hand and foot holds as Kristie climbed up behind him, and soon they had an efficient supply chain sending the sludge upward.

Stephen was at the very bottom, which made every single person except for the man himself nervous. They didn’t want to lose an entire subgroup on a mission, and those guys had an eighty percent death rate already. Higher and higher, Nacho climbed, until Stephen had to grab grease from the water, climb up halfway to the hall, hand it off to Brie, and scurry back down. All the while, the faucet continued to pour water into the sink… and it was finally deep enough for the Godking of Scrub Sponges to swim.

Rasping out a phlegmy roar of success, it splashed toward them, picking up a massive amount of speed with every stroke.

Stephen dumped his backpack and used it to scoop up as much slime as it could hold, then climbed as fast as he could. He had barely reached a high enough point that when the sponge took a swipe at him, it bounced off the dense porcelain instead of his weak flesh. Just as they started to celebrate, a whip shot out and wrapped around the man.

Scratch-Bite had missed with his claws, but hit with his tongue.

Stephen smiled gently and tossed the backpack of grease to Brie. He closed his eyes as the tongue started to pull him down, only for a skewer hurtle past him; Jennifer had his back.

It was the shot of a lifetime, striking the Sponge Godking in the back of its mouth and forcing it to gag, releasing the last Sword Guy.

Stephen scrambled out of range of Scratch-Bite’s tongue as Nacho accepted the greasy backpack. Using the goop provided, he slammed the last lumps  of their improvised climbing wall onto the sink and waited impatiently as it dried—all the while the monster was trying to scrabble up the perfectly smooth wall below. Finally, the cook was able to haul himself over the edge and gasp cleaner air, fully amazed that his plan had worked.

Nacho hurriedly stood and helped Kristie out of the sink, then the two of them pulled each person up the last little bit until they were all looking down into the half-full sink, where Scratch-Bite bellowed in impotent rage. The Sponge Godking would have to wait for the sink to fill, which would take a bit, as long as the garbage disposal’s motor held out. The fresh liquid covered the bottom, but now that the humans were out, the whirlpool in the center was somehow working properly enough to suck the water down.

Active Combat is over! Regen and Store fun await you—hey, that was quick thinking! In previous iterations, people were powerful enough to kill the slimes and sponge, then use them as a raft to paddle over. But you used your modern-day conveniences to outwit the stink sink—don’t worry, we also noticed how well you handled yourselves in the freezer. We’re impressed! Here’s a bonus of two million credits each (tax free) for your efforts! We’re looking forward to a truly impressive showdown at the end.

Happy Starvation Dungeoneering, and may your future be delicious!

Nacho led the party across the counter until the sound of the faucet and garbage disposal faded to merely annoying instead of all-consuming. Stephen couldn’t dispel the  wide grin on his face as he took his greasy backpack away from Nacho. “That was a close one! At least it looks like we can do some upgrading. Are we going to upgrade our Tiers? Two million credits apiece is about right.”

“It isn’t enough for all of us to upgrade.” Brie shook her head regretfully. “It’s closer to two million, two hundred thousand credits to break the Tier barrier. Not sure where we’re going to get the extra.”

“Some of us will have to wait.” Reuben held up his hand before anyone could protest. “I’ll volunteer to remain at the peak of my current power. At this stage, my Healing Hugs are overkill anyway.”

“I can stay-” Nacho winced as Brie started shaking her head to cut him off, and he went quiet. The thought of upgrading his class ahead of the others made him annoyed, but… he could utilize the stats he would get better than almost anyone else. He understood this, intellectually, though it felt like a waste when more combat-oriented people were needed in a place like this. If additional Tier three monsters were waiting for them… well, they had already determined that they couldn’t beat them as they were now.

“Should we be doing this now, or wait until after the next challenge?” Taye’s question hung in the air as the group turned to survey the next area to tackle. The stovetop was waiting for them, presenting a seemingly straightforward path toward the Dining Room. Still, something told Nacho that the next arena they had to fight through would in no way be easier than the ones they had started with.

They had three more hours until the Starvation Debuff hit.

Nacho checked on his Body Players who’d used their Skills as Jennifer offered a swig of Mana Soda to anyone that needed it. Brie was at sixty-six Hunger Points. Abby was at seventy. Taye was now down to seventy as well, thanks to using his Eagle Aim to save their life.

“Not to be a downer, Nacho,” Reuben took off his eye-wateringly out-of-fashion helmet and scratched his head, clearly uncomfortable with delivering bad news, “but if we advance to Tier two, sure, we get bonus abilities and Stat Points, but we lose our magic items. We’d have to try upgrading them, and I’m not sure that’s a good idea. In a place like this, so close to the Patrons who are watching every little interaction? I would set our chances of success at a negative percentage.”

“Oh, abyss.” Taye froze in place as he considered the ramifications of upgrading. “I don’t want to give up my gear just yet. My bow, quiver, armor? It’s all Tier one, and it’s all connected. If upgrading one piece goes wrong, all of my stuff could go *boom*.”

Nacho considered his own gear. His knives were guaranteed to be successfully upgraded—one of the reasons why he’d wanted them so much. As for his armor, he would have to upgrade each piece individually, and that would be both expensive and dangerous. There was always the risk that a piece of his armor would explode, throwing shrapnel. Or in the case of his Gauntlets of Oven Taming, filling the air with a magical version of asbestos.

“I’m going for an upgrade. I don’t think we’ll need my Wand of Carbonation or my Collapsible Cauldron. Those are my two biggest magic items.” Jennifer waved one of the Sewer Skewers around. “I also have these now, if it’s okay that I borrow them?”

Nacho nodded at the request. The skewers were more of a novelty to him, especially when his knives would be more than capable of getting the job done, and he could always recover the skewers when necessary. “They suit you well, since you have a skill that allows you to throw them properly.”

“Sounds great to me. But this cheese doesn’t have time to age right now, so how many credits do you need to get to Tier two?” Reuben transferred over the remaining credits and gave her a thumbs up. The total cost of going from level nineteen to twenty was two million, one hundred eighty-nine thousand, two hundred credits.

Jennifer let out a breath. “Okay, how about I try leveling and walking at the same time? If I can’t, you guys keep walking and maybe someone carries my steaming body back until I cool off enough to get a good boost?”

Nacho agreed to help her out, keeping his mouth shut about what she could expect. In his past life, he had seen plenty of people attempting the breakthrough into the next Tier. He knew that sharing the knowledge he carried would only build people’s anticipation and make it harder for them to make the leap.

Achieving level twenty meant reaching the first bottleneck in advancement: fatalities could, and would, occur if the player wasn’t mentally strong enough to survive the process.