Chapter Three Hundred and Forty-Seven. Out of the Dungeon.

Chapter Three Hundred and Forty-Seven. Out of the Dungeon.

Bob had always loved the practice of physics. It was one of the main reasons he'd ended up at Fermi, where he could actually utilize the particle accelerator. He was willing to work on the theoretical side of the fence, but what little he'd enjoyed of his time at Fermi had been those moments when he could actually perform an experiment.

Magic was like physics, only better. Most of the time.

"It worked, mostly," Bob muttered as he rubbed his jaw gently.

'Nearly giving yourself frostbite to ensure that your facial hair was at maximum exposure to ensure a closer shave wasn't the best idea,' Trebor said. 'Ignoring that the result was, at best, mere millimeters. Shaving with an obsidian razor heated to two hundred degrees went further down the well of ideas best left untested.'

Bob wasn't overly fond of shaving. Being blonde meant that his beard took a while to come in, but he wasn't quite blonde enough to get away with too much stubble. Reverting to the age of eighteen meant that his stubble was patchy and uneven, which meant if he didn't want to look homeless, he had to shave regularly. Given his formative years, and the legacy of being called 'hobob,' he sought to avoid that.

It had made sense to cool his skin and heat the razor, and he'd gotten a nice shave on the left hand side of his face. Sadly, the heated razor had made his hand sweat, and he'd slipped on the right, both slicing his cheek and jaw, while simultaneously applying scalding heat.

Fortunately, he knew how to cast a regeneration spell.

"I just wanted to put off shaving again for an extra day or two," Bob grumbled.

'Removing your dermis entirely and regenerating it certainly accomplishes that goal,' Trebor observed.

Over the past month and change, Bob had noticed that Trebor was starting to display more of a personality. When the mirror protocol had been cut off from the System, he'd lost some of his spark, but now that the System had converted Trebor into a personal AI, and Bob had begun allocating skill points to advance Trebor's development, it was coming back.

"Well, what's done is done," Bob stood up and stretched for a moment. He'd always kept up with an exercise regimen, but he'd also spent years of his life sitting at a desk. This had resulted in quite a few minor aches and pains, some of which had been eliminated when the System had rebuilt half his body for him. Of course, that same rebuilt body had its own issues. The long and short of it was that although he hated shaving, and could do without the random erections that he'd thought were long past, he felt amazing.

'Might I suggest brushing Monroe before getting dressed?' Trebor asked.

Bob paused, looking down at the slacks he was about to put on. They were new, something that Amanda had given him after he'd reached tier eight, and he'd almost forgotten about them until he went to his closet to grab some clean clothes and discovered that Monroe had apparently used his 'How did you get there?' skill to hop into the closet for a quick nap at some point. The slacks and shirt Amanda had given him had been left in a bag, and were the only non-fluffed clothing he currently owned.

"Yeah," Bob said slowly, carefully folding the slacks and putting them back in the bag. "I should brush him first."

"There he is!" Jessica said gleefully.

Bob was surprised to see the crowd in the Tavern of the Adventurer's Guild at Glacier Valley. His friends were occupying a huge table in the corner that definitely hadn't been part of the decor the last time he'd been here.

He navigated through the crowd carefully before reaching his friends, where he found an empty chair between Jessica and Bailli.

"Hey," Bob greeted the table with a save as he took his seat.

"Don't you look dapper," Jessica smiled as she teased a crease in the arm of his shirt.

"I knew those would look good on you," Amanda said smugly.

"The blue really brings out his eyes," Jack agreed with a wink.

"I'm just lucky that Amanda bought the outfit for me," Bob said. "His imperial majesty managed to get into my closet and knocked my clothes down to ensure a proper napping place, so this was the only thing I had that wasn't covered in fluff."

"Is Monroe in your inventory?" Eli asked. "I've got Red in mine, and Icy is never far from Bailli, so I was thinking they could have a kitty play date."

"Yep, he's sleeping off the last of my oxcipine," Bob replied dryly.

"Shit, I didn't even consider that," Dave winced. "You probably need to re-provision, eh?"

"I do," Bob admitted. "I can grow my own fruit and vegetables, not as well as someone who actually has the ritual from the System, but well enough to keep myself fed. But I'm not a vegetarian, and Monroe is pure carnivore, and if there's one fault in the Dungeon, it's that the monsters aren't really edible."

Bailli crinkled her nose. "I'd rather not resort to eating anything quite that humanoid," she agreed.

"Sadly, I've been reduced to eating lettuce and tomato sandwiches, so the timing worked out pretty well," Bob said.

"You're level twenty-four, then?" Amanda asked.

"Third threshold," Bob agreed. Read latest chapters at nov(e)lbin.com Only

"You're out for good, right?" Jessica asked.

"Pretty sure we'll be fine there," Dave said.

"I wasn't super keen on letting everyone on Earth cark it, so getting great paths out of it is a nice little benny, yeah?" Jessica beamed.

"So, how long are you going to stay at the peak of tier seven?" Bob asked, trying to change the subject.

"That depends on how stubborn those Attribute Affinity Crystals are," Elli replied.

"You finished the quest?" Bob asked.

"We did," Harv offered a smile. "Seven to the seventh, which ended up being five point seven million monsters for the last step, but we made it."

Bob sighed. "The final step for me is one hundred and thirty-four million."

Everyone at the table winced. "Yeah, better to get this one done at a lower tier," Dave said.

"At least I'm not tier ten. That's ten billion monsters for the last step," Bob shook his head.

"Well, the good news is that assuming a one in one hundred thousand drop rate, we'll only need three months or so," Amanda said.

"Assuming," Dave interjected, "that we get the crystals we need, and not a bunch of duplicates."

"Statistically we're caster heavy," he continued, "which means we'll need more Wisdom and Intelligence crystals, but that's nothing when you consider that all of us are getting an Endurance crystal. Assuming an evenly weighted drop ratio, those are going to be the hold up."

"At least we'll end up with enough Crystals for Wayna," Eddi said. "With the shapeshifting thing her attribute spread was always a little weird, because she needed spell casting attributes and the physicals as well. This is going to make things a lot easier on her."

"She's off doing a reincarnation ritual for her mother," Harv said.

"Jack's off doing city stuff," Dave added.

Bob nodded. He'd been surprised to see almost everyone here in the first place, and had thought that the two who were missing had other commitments.

"So, I figure we'll eat lunch, and then you can start checking off your dance card," Amanda said brightly.

"My dance card?" Bob asked dubiously.

"Oh, there's a list of people who want to talk to you," Dave chuckled.

"Well, at least we know what happens now," Taylor said, handing the folder to the President.

"While I'd rather it hadn't happened at all, at least it didn't happen in a densely populated area," Elania shuddered. "Imagine if that had happened in New York or Los Angeles?"

She opened the folder and looked over the numbers. Just over a thousand dead, another two hundred wounded, all because someone had decided to build a Dungeon outside of Perth.

The Australian government had a pretty good idea of who it had been, as they'd been able to retrieve the VIN number from the remains a vehicle just outside the Dungeon, which was registered to a missing person. The current theory was that the individual in question had built the Dungeon, converted it to a natural Dungeon through the System, and then died inside of it.

It had been one of the gamers who'd run around Thayland for over a year, and they ought to have known better, but there it was.

The person had been reported missing eight months ago, which was apparently how long it had taken the Dungeon to exceed it's capacity and spill it's deadly contents to the outside world. Five foot tall, with a humanoid torso, the head of a hyena, and the bottom half of a scorpion, complete with stinger, it had a set of humanoid arms, as well as a pair of pincers that came off it's back near the waist. A chimera born of the nightmares, the creatures had burst out of the Dungeon and nearly wiped out the population of Bruce Rock before spreading out toward Shackleton.

"I'm afraid it's only a matter of time before it happens here," Taylor said.

"Those satellites can't go up soon enough," Elania agreed.

She'd spent her early years on the national stage working to ensure that Military bases stayed open, at least in her district, and later years desperately trying to reign in the defense budget. Never had she appreciated DARPA as much as she had in the past year and a half. The Venn diagram describing the overlap of scientists who geeked out over imagining new weapons systems, people who wanted to see just exactly what magic was capable of, and engineers who loved nothing more than the challenge of building weird shit, was definitely akin to a stack of pancakes.

One of the projects they'd come up with was establishing a network of satellites to monitor the mana flows across the entire planet, at least on land, which should, theoretically, allow them to keep track of every Dungeon in real time, which beat the hell out of having a high level spell caster with Shadowmancy cast ritual after ritual, which was they'd had to do initially.

"Wanna bet we've got unattended Dungeons in every major city?" Taylor asked grimly.

Elania shook her head with a grimace. "I'm not giving away mana crystals."