Dungeon Crawler Carl (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #1)

by Matt Dinniman

And let me tell you something about cat people. More specifically, cat show people. Actually, never mind. Fuck those guys. All that’s important is Bea and Donut were a part of this whole world I didn’t want anything to do with. I never considered myself a big fan of cats. But, if we’re being truthful here, I liked Donut. That cat did not give two shits about anybody or anything, and I could respect that.

New achievement! Trailblazing Crazy Cat Lady. You are the first crawler to have entered to the World Dungeon accompanied by a cat. You must really love that thing. Too bad you’re both probably going to die a horrible death at any moment. Or maybe not. Look at the prize you just received! Reward: You’ve received a Legendary Pet Box!

New achievement! Unarmed combat. So. You just gonna waltz right into something called a “World Dungeon” and you’re not even going to bring a weapon? You’re either braver than you look, or you’re just an idiot. Good luck with that, Van Damme. Reward: You’ve received a Bronze Weapon Box!

Engineers. The incels of the goblin world. They have a hard time finding a date, which makes them extra angry. If there are any females in your party, they will attack them first.

I briefly wondered where she was, and if she was alive. Probably not, I decided. It’d been 5 AM in the Bahamas when it had happened, which meant she’d probably been asleep in her hotel. Probably in bed with that asshole. And if by some miracle she had survived, there’s no way she’d have gone into one of those tunnels.

“Really, Carl,” a new voice said. It was female, sultry yet pompous at the same time. “If you’re going to insist upon wearing that hideous cloak in public, you might want to do yourself the dignity of putting pants on first. I just can't fathom why Miss Beatrice hired you in the first place.”

Mordecai looked at me sadly. “Yeah, good luck to you, too.” He grasped my jacket and met my eyes and then whispered, “It’s not worth it, no matter what they tell you. Not until floor 12, and even then, negotiate as much as you can. Remember that.”

“Nor am I wearing a cloak that makes me look like I won a participation trophy at the special needs comic con, Carl. I’m a cat. Cats don’t wear pants. Don’t be so droll.”

Bad Llama. Level 3. It’s a llama, but it’s bad. If he were human, he’d be covered in prison tattoos and would be hanging out in front of the Circle K hitting on 14-year-old girls.

Donut, who hadn’t lifted a paw to help me, spent the next five minutes bitching about how her “mentorship” should’ve counted for more experience.

Smush: Skill Level 3 Killing with your feet. Your bare, beautiful feet. Taking your bare foot, placing it on top of a living, conscious life, and then pressing lovingly down until that life ceases to be. Is there a more noble way to kill? The amount of pressure you can bring to bear upon an enemy with your unshod foot is increased by 10% with each level of this skill.

It also makes you look all wispy and ethereal and druid-like. A great spell to have if you’re a club kid or trying to bang a vegan.

“It’s a permacube,” the engineer said. “Won’t run out until you die of old age. You don’t turn it off. Just let it run out of coal. Toss in a lump, and it’ll start up on its own after a minute. We don’t use the lesser demons to run our steam engines like some do. This is just as good, and this baby will outlast you.” He slapped the side of the bike, and the handlebars fell off, clattering to the ground. He cursed and bent to pick them back up. He started reattaching them to the frame with a wrench.

Okay, okay. Unless you’re a complete psychopath, we know you probably didn’t wake up this morning and tell yourself, “Today is the day I’m going to slaughter a child.” Well let us put your mind at ease. All children mobs who die within this dungeon don’t actually perish. They’re transferred to a holding area where they’re safe and treated nicely and gently until they can be reunited with their loving parents at the end of the season. Feel better? Good. Reward: These past twenty seconds, when your conscience started to ease? That was your reward. It was also a lie. That baby is dead, and it’s dead because of you. You’re totally going to hell. You’ve also received a Bronze Asshole’s Box.

New achievement! War Criminal. You have killed more than 20 non-combatants in a single attack! Question: What’s the only thing standing between an innocent child and a happy, fulfilling life? Answer: You. The answer is you. Reward: You’ve received a Gold Asshole’s Box!

Skill Potion. Drinking this adds a single level to the Determine Value skill. Hopefully now you’ll realize all those Magic: The Gathering cards are nothing more than just meaningless pieces of paper, and you should have spent your money on something with actual value, like a treadmill. Or shampoo.

“How is it you’re James Bond when it comes to strangers, but Miss Beatrice could date three different guys at once, and you had no idea?” “Three different guys?” “Well, you were one of them, so two, I guess. Then again, it’s three if you count Angel’s owner. Does it count as cheating when it’s with another woman? There's so many human nuances I don't understand.” “Of course it counts as cheating,” I said. For fuck’s sake.

“Hold on, Carl!” Donut cried. She emerged, flying through the air, claws out like a tiger pouncing on unsuspecting prey. She landed directly on the monster’s massive, bulbous shoulder, and she bit down hard on his vein-covered neck as her rear legs scrabbled at his back. Tendrils of green and red tissue went flying, as if she were a potato peeler gone haywire. She bit through one of the veins on his neck, vampire-like. Blood sprayed as if she had struck oil, soaking Donut, who gurgled in response. The giant hand at my neck went slack, and he slapped backward at Donut. He barely hit her, a glancing blow, but she rocketed off the creature’s back as if she’d been shot out of a cannon. She hit the far wall with a sickening crunch.

“I have been grievously injured in battle,” she said. “In saving you, I have made the ultimate sacrifice. I can feel my life fading away, Carl. I’m circling that last bend into the drain. This is the end. I used my claws like you said, and I have perished as a result. Miss Beatrice is going to be most displeased with you.” She coughed twice, two coughs that sounded suspiciously fake. “Tell her I fought bravely. Tell her I fought to the end. Find Ferdinand, tell him I loved him. I loved him ever since I first saw him.”

Enchanted War Gauntlet of the Exalted Grull. (Right-Handed) +3 Strength (In Fist Mode Only) +1 Dexterity + 2 Skill Levels to Iron Punch. + 1 Skill Level to Powerful Strike. 2% chance to Stun enemy upon a successful hit. Item is a wrist bracer that transforms into a spiked war gauntlet made of orcish steel when the hand is shaped into a fist or wields a hilted weapon for more than two seconds at a time. This item on its own does not negate the bare knuckle skill bonus. Warning: if you use this weapon to strike adherents of the war god Grull, you have a 1.5% chance to transfigure your target into the deity himself. Trust me on this. You don’t want to do that. A bigger, redder, WARNING. Remove this item before you jerk off.