CWD: Sewer Skewers ~ Twenty-Three

Only a few people had ever seen someone reach Tier one, and it was always a spectacular display. Brie didn’t end up screaming in pain or doing anything too wild. She tied her hands over her mouth, and that blocked almost everything. Even so, she winced at the pain, grunting a few times as her joints lit up, and turned pink with embarrassment as she was blasted a few feet off the ground when her Mana barrier sprang into existence.

It looked like a wild, flaming aura spreading across her skin that faded into her body an instant later. Somehow, everyone still knew that it was right there waiting to block anything they could throw at her. After officially reaching the higher tier, Brie stood and raised her hand as the System informed them that yes, they had been correct in their assumption. She had dealt the most damage while clearing the dungeon.

A long black wooden handle with a beautiful gold inlay appeared, the rest of the weapon materializing as golden particles coalesced… and finally revealing itself as a lacrosse stick. The hoop appeared to be made of actual gold, while the netting was a black metal mesh. An odd embossed face with a mustache and monocle decorated the top of the hoop, giving the impression that anything put in the net was going into the figure’s mouth.

“They gave me a message that I could literally have anything I wanted as a weapon. I chose what I’m the absolute best at, so I got a lacrosse stick.” She carelessly let her hammer drop to the ground as she whipped the stick through the air admiringly.

“Milley!” Reuben called softly, hand outstretched to the cast-aside mallet.

Brie pulled a ball of glowing white energy out of thin air and tossed it up, catching the orb of radiance in her net and flinging the ball into the wall. It exploded on impact, filling the platform with dust and bits of shrapnel. “Before you ask, I can’t just throw any kind of ball. It has to be one of these, and they aren’t cheap.”

“Then why did you waste one on showing off?” Scrubz called out as he grabbed the fallen hammer and started dragging it to the large crowd to find it a new owner.

“I can buy a ten pack for four hundred. They’re expensive, but the explosions do the same damage as me hitting the target directly.” The Tier one Berserker ignored the annoyed retort of her obnoxious party member, “Now, I finally have a ranged weapon. I’m up from twenty to thirty, and that’s just the base damage of Mr. Lacrosse Stick. That’s the… they named it.”

“I bet it was you, and now you’re just having buyers' regret.” Scrubz’s attitude finally seemed to get to her, and she turned and brandished her new weapon at him.

“Sorry, Scrubz. I can’t hear your negativity.” She twirled her stick and slammed the end down in an impressive display of control. “I’m going ahead. Stay fresh, cheese bags.”

“You did it!” Reuben had tossed Scrubz his Gauntlets of Monster Destruction aside as he tried to clean off the casing clips that were covered with raw Kill Basa sausage innards. He had gone completely still mid-task, and now he was staring at his wife and clapping his hands in overdone excitement. “You made your catchphrase!”

“No, I was trying to casually insult you guys-” she tried to say, only for Nacho to join in on Reuben’s side.

“He has a point; that was pretty smooth. ‘Stay fresh, cheese bags’? I love it.” The cook shot her a reassuring grin, then had a great idea. “You know, I’d have to spend some credits to upgrade my Ingredient Processing, but then I could process this monster, though he’s basically sausage already. I’m getting Mana back, and I should be able to carve out a breakfast for dinner. Anyone up for biscuits and gravy?”

“Eating a monster… made of animated processed meat.” Abby hammered Nacho on the back. “Great idea! We could all use a minute to gather ourselves while you do that. I don’t know about the rest of them, but I’d like a good ol’ fashioned ponder on how we’re all going to spend that money.”

“You guys are ridiculous. Fine, you want me to call you ‘cheese bags’ long term? Fine. Fine.” Brie swept her new Weapon of Weaponry through the air. “I don’t want to eat up here, so let’s at least get down the ladder first.”

“Hmm.” Reuben watched her move, tapping the now-nearly-clean clips together as he thought. “Something tells me it isn’t fine, but that’s way too good of a phrase to give up. I’ll work on her. If I could convince her to marry me, I feel like something like this should be easy.”

“Ah, yes, pleading and cajoling: the Reuben special. Have at it.” Waving his best friend off encouragingly, Nacho took a peek at the defeated boss, finding that the Kill Basa was a level nineteen monster. He shook his head at the discovery; even the Bove would have only been ground beef in front of this thing. “We… probably should have died fighting this, if I’m being honest.”

The only reason they hadn’t that he could think of was that their main damage dealer had been carrying a boost of ninety percent to her base stats. That put her at least on par, if not higher, than a standard person at Tier two while she had been fighting the massive golem. The power scaling was incredible, even more so because they were managing so wonderfully against higher tier creatures. Nacho swore to himself as he realized he would have to bring his Ingredient Processing skill up to Tier one, level seven and succeed in processing the abomination.

One thousand, two hundred, and forty credits out of his bonus was easier to spend with the knowledge that he’d earn some of those credits back after he processed the meat. It was a race against his own Mana Regen, as well as his skills in actively processing the sausage before it turned to goo. With everything prepared, he dove in.

Nacho set up his kitchen near the back entrance where they’d come in and quickly got to chopping. Working as fast and efficiently as possible, he still only got through ten rounds of Ingredient Processing before the rest disintegrated. He couldn’t feel too disappointed, however, due to the fact that it earned him back three hundred and eighty credits, as well as about fifty pounds of raw sausage. He stuck it away in a Storage Slot—the ultimate in food storage. He could stow the meat while it still contained Putrid Mana, but that didn’t slow its degradation. He’d opened his slots before only to be met with pungent black goo, and he had learned his lesson by now.

Most of the party was okay when it came to their hunger, seeing as they hadn’t been too active throughout the entire slog. Those who needed to top off were given some rations, and soon everyone was ready to descend the ladder. Eduardo was the final winner of Brie’s old hammer, and they were all glad to have another person ready for frontline fighting duty, even if it was a little strange to see the weapon in someone else’s hands. The fighter especially seemed happy to be able to deal some real damage, and he held his new tool as though someone was going to try to take it from him.

There was some discussion around Reuben upgrading his class to enable him to use the Sausage Clips of Striking, and eventually the Healer took the initiative and spent his own money to make it happen. Nobody blamed him: they were a Tier one magic item, after all. As soon as he could equip them, they shrank to fit but otherwise didn’t change in appearance. They weren’t cool vambraces, and they didn’t even look like bracelets. No, they were unmistakably hot dog bangles.

Reuben loved the fact that they remained the same. Between his janky new weapon and his bizarrely-shaped leather Helm of Helming that had decided to upgrade itself to stay with the Healer, he certainly wasn’t going to get any prizes for fashion. “Even the Ring of Cheese is still usable! I hit the jackpot!”

Brie, his counterpart in all things, was the complete opposite. She wanted black and gold armor to match her lacrosse stick, but for the time being, she’d have to live with the fact that her new weapon clashed with her silver Sabatons of Lower Half Protection, her glittering chainmail, and her helmet. It was a greatly displeasing discrepancy for her, and it took all her willpower not to bite someone’s head off when they brought up the fact that the armor wouldn’t even work for her anymore.

Once everyone in the Brunch Force was healed up, Brie led the way down the ladder, sans armor, which she had handed off to someone else. Scrubz waited patiently as the others descended, wearing the gauntlets Reuben had tossed to him after equipping his new bangles. Nacho cocked an eyebrow at the man as he waited for the cook to start climbing. “You ever going to tell us about your class and skills?”

The tax-hating-yet-somehow-charismatic reformed complainer shrugged. “Maybe. But I don’t want anyone using that information against me, so I’m going to be careful who I share it with.”

“Here’s the deal.” Nacho decided to be forthright with the guy. “We’ve been together for four months. No one’s gunning for you, Scrubz. We’re working together, and frankly Reuben didn’t have to give you the gauntlets. We’ve liked seeing your progress, and we want to facilitate that. Gonna be hard to do if you won’t trust us enough to open up even this much.”

It seemed uncharacteristically shy, but Scrubz smiled. “Maybe you’re right. Eduardo is going to kill it with that hammer. What ‘it’ is, I don’t know, but I figure he’s going to kill ‘it’ dead for sure. So that’s cool. You go first. I’ve got your back.”

“I’d like to have yours.” Nacho paused before reaching for the ladder. “If your plan was to murder-hobo your way through the Juxtaposition, you’re in the wrong guild. You know that, right?”

Scrubz let out a laugh that didn’t sound very happy. “I know. If we really thought you people were gonna get us killed, me and Old Bill would’ve left a long time ago. We believe in what you’re doing. It’s just… we’re not going to follow along blindly, and we’re going to call out anyone that we think is doing anything unfair. Now, let’s just get down the ladder and see if we can find a way into the UnderFun before someone thinks we’re up here fighting.”

“Gotta hope for the Downtown UnderFun,” Nacho corrected as he carefully laid on his belly and eased himself over the edge. His first foot found the top rung—it seemed to be made from rough metal rebar pounded into the rock. The mist from the water falling made them slick, but the rough swirls in the metal still allowed him to get some good traction.

Nacho started down, the water falling on either side of him. The downpour was wet and definitely smelled like garbage water, but the torrent wasn’t hitting him directly. That would’ve torn him right off the ladder, so he was thankful. His big mobile kitchen backpack *creaked* behind and slightly above him, and he was glad for the cover. Especially since his mobile kitchen was waterproof. The bulky bag unexpectedly allowed him to just enjoy the view and the peace of the moment.

The drop was unnerving; it was a good five hundred feet down the ladder to the ground below. People were going slow, being careful not to fall, which made the descent even harder for anyone that hadn’t invested in Fitness. Nacho eventually forced himself to stop looking below and just focus on moving down one rung at a time. He certainly wasn’t going to look up. Scrubz was above him, and the view wasn’t flattering. “Gonna need him to invest in multiple pairs of underwear. Flipping one inside out when it gets dirty doesn't work when you use it for four months straight… nah, I bet he’ll think it’s a pointless expense.”

The deeper Nacho climbed, the more water splashed down on him. A few times, he was forced to grit his teeth and hang on for dear life when a breeze reoriented the streams of water. When he finally got close to the ground, Reuben hustled forward and helped him off, holding up his backpack so he wouldn’t catch on anything. They moved back from the ladder and the waterfalls as Scrubz came off the rungs, the final member of the Brunch Force to reach the bottom.

Nacho’s Firefly Potstickers buzzed overhead, granting them light. They were standing on soaked asphalt, definitely a modern Earth road with white lines in the middle and yellow on the edges. On either side ran sidewalks, gutters, and drains—the waterfalls above were running directly into Kansas City’s old drainage system. Reuben shook his head at the thought, “A river draining into a sewer, turning into a river, then a sewer. How far does it go? Maybe everything is sewers and rivers, all the way up, and all the way down.”

“How about you keep your cuckoo-banana-pants philosophy to yourself, huh?” Scrubz growled as they started traveling down a shattered tunnel. The walls were full of hunks of concrete, exposed rebar, and literal tons of crumbled bricks. It must’ve been one of the underpass tunnels of the freeway. Nacho didn’t recognize which one, but he knew for a fact that they’d never been closer to the Downtown UnderFun.

Pausing for a moment, Nacho took off his mobile kitchen to rest his shoulders. “Once I hit level fifteen, my Fitness will increase again, and that backpack will feel like a feather.”

“Until then, we appreciate you keeping all complaints to yourself.” Brie slapped him on the arm, nearly sending him staggering to the floor. He glanced at the massive smile on her face, then to the reason it existed: the lacrosse stick she had access to once more. “Taye, Abby, and Kristie are running recon. We think we might be close to the UnderFun.”

It wasn’t five minutes before the scouts came hurrying back out of the tunnel, Taye looking anxious and overwhelmed. “I found it…! Sorry, we found it. But it’s strange. I mean, I knew we were deep. First the spiral staircase, the downward slope in the Barbeque Tunnels, and then that ladder. But… maybe you should just come and look for yourselves.”

Nacho hurriedly shouldered his mobile kitchen and shuffled forward, Reuben and Brie flanking him. While he’d assumed that the tunnel was created from debris, it turned out it was at least somewhat natural. He traced the damp stone as he walked across the asphalt and wondered at the power of the Patrons. This was an especially odd mixture of rock and building.

Kristie’s bracelets, Chris’s katana, one of the guys in Scrubz’s group that seemed to be covered in bioluminescent algae, and Nacho’s Firefly Potstickers lit their way as they walked down the paved street. The asphalt ended in a precise line as if cut by the world’s biggest circular saw, right at the edge of a rounded archway that had clearly been fashioned by the Patrons.

Nacho was treated to a view of the Downtown UnderFun that made his jaw drop. Torchlight flickered in some of the buildings of what had been Kansas City. Yes, there were buildings, but only about the first six or seven floors. The tops were lost in rock. It wasn’t the entire downtown, just the buildings around the convention center. Nacho immediately recognized the Marriott and some familiar shops. To his right, in the distance, rose the yellowish façade of city hall and the court building.

“That must be what’s left of the Power and Light district.” Brie gestured toward a few of the streetlights that burned with an eerie green fire. It wasn’t electricity, but rather a magical fire. Cars were scattered around the streets. There were buses and fallen streetcars as well, but no bodies. It was a stark reminder that every single person on Earth had been snatched up and either put in a waiting area to age in—babies, kids, and elderly people—or were sent directly to the Evaluation World.

Shadowy monsters with the gait of dogs haunted the streets. Their slinking forms sent a chill down Nacho’s back. How many dogs had been in Kansas City during the Juxtaposition? Dogs? Cats? Rats? All of them were in the process of being altered by the Putrid Mana. A few birds—maybe bats—flitted through the air, disappearing into the broken windows of the buildings.

A beat later, the System had a message for them.

Welcome, Players, to the Downtown UnderFun. Technically, this is the Downtown Kansas City UnderFun, or the DKCU. We know why you’re here, and we have to warn you that the DKCU isn’t just one dungeon. It’s many, many dungeons. Each one has pluses (treasure, bonus credits, ancient artifacts, and a cool post-apocalyptic feel), as well as minuses (monsters, death, screaming, sorrow).

Have fun exploring what’s left of Kansas City!

Good luck on your quest for the Dragon Spear! You’re in first place, but you’re not alone—other guilds are on their way! In fact, they’re right behind you! AHH! Right there!

Made ya look.

Nacho couldn’t help but be disappointed at the message. It was true that other guilds would be on their way. If nothing else, Crave and Kala had been given some kind of information that they’d use to make their way here. Even if they hadn’t gotten good information, they’d check the Bove’s Lair, maybe find their tracks, and they’d come. He hadn’t seen anyone following them, but both guilds had acquired stealth players, and he immediately began kicking himself for leaving behind a very visible trail.

Myron could move unseen, and Crave himself had Assassin abilities. It was naïve to think they wouldn’t be using them. Reuben brought him back to the present by breathing out a single word, before waxing eloquent as though his marketing Skill had taken over. “Wow. It’s a giant underground cavern filled with the leftovers of our world.”

Scrubz strolled up and laughed, though the sound didn’t relay amusement. It was almost maniacal. “Anyone else having a slight breakdown moment? I mean, we were on Earth the entire time, and I still didn’t see this coming. It’s crazy.”

“‘Crazy’ is a good word to describe all this,” Reuben agreed easily. “Not one dungeon, but a ton? We’re going to have a lot of ground to cover… I’d imagine we should split up. But first, we need to spend our credits, level, and rest up.”

“Then a sausage party!” Nacho’s cheerful words garnered only silence and strange looks. “Why are you all looking at me like that? We have a ton of sausage to cook up from the Kill Basa.”

“You know what you said, Nacho.” Reuben stage-whispered, breaking the awkward silence with laughter that the others joined in on to tease the cook.

Nacho let a smile play across his lips as he surveyed the area. He could see a trail leading down the debris to a hotel’s courtyard, a Residence Inn, if he wasn’t mistaken. It would likely still have a grill area, rooms to sleep in, and there might still be snacks in the lobby. Half the structure was buried in stone, and Nacho was curious to see what some of those rooms looked like. Were they completely invaded with stone, or was the rock simply layered onto the roof? “Let’s head down there and take stock of things.”

“Glad I Tiered up.” Reuben jangled his new bracelets. “I want to see what kind of damage I can do with my new magic items.”

Brie pulled her husband close, giving him a compliment as well as something to think about. “My sweet love… I’m okay with you looking like a homeless warrior at Tier zero. Even Tier one. But by the time you hit Tier two, you’re going to get a complete makeover. You can’t be trusted to dress yourself.”

“Oh, come on! I don’t think-” He started, only for her to cut off the complaint with a kiss.

She smiled and tapped his Helm of Helming. “Just think of marketing yourself properly, so that your wife doesn’t need to go looking off-brand to find what she wants.”

With a wink, Brie turned and sauntered off, leaving Reuben actively reconsidering his current attire.