The Butcher's Masquerade (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #5)

by Matt Dinniman

Admin Message. This is an automated message. Due to a system regency change, a conflict of interest has arisen, resulting in one of your sponsors being removed effective immediately. A special auction will ensue to replace the missing sponsor and will complete in 60 hours. All previous awarded prizes will remain. Sponsor Lost: The Valtay Corporation. “The hell?” I asked. And then came a second message in a different voice, but similar to the one when all of this started. Please take note. This is a planet-wide message. The Borant Corporation, not to be confused with the Borant System Government, has been declared an independent, non-governmental entity by a Syndicate court. As a result, a previously-filed court ruling was automatically executed, granting the Valtay Corporation 51% ownership of the Borant Corporation. The Borant Corporation remains in charge of this crawl, and as far as most of you are concerned, nothing will change. This is nothing more than a courtesy notice. All previous, legal contracts will be honored, including indenture contracts. However, the Borant System Government no longer has any stake in either the planet, the resources, or the production of Dungeon Crawler World: Earth, and regency has been granted solely to the Borant Corporation and their new principal owners, the Valtay Corporation. If you have any questions about how that might affect any debts owed or contract obligations, legal counsel is available free* of charge to all full Syndicate ...

“But what about everybody else?” Donut asked. “Even if Elle and Katia and all the others go down, they’ll just use the next fifty top crawlers. And those guys will be even less prepared. Plus I’ve already started training Mongo for the beauty pageant.”

“This is most distressing,” Donut grumbled. “I certainly would never have smuggled all those Valtay secret agent guys to Zev and the Borant Emancipation Front if I’d known this was going to happen.” I exchanged an incredulous look with Lexis, who stared at the cat, open-mouthed. “What?” I asked just before we transferred back to the dungeon. * * * “Goddamnit, Donut,” I growled. “Don’t say anything. Don’t say a word. But god fucking damnit.”

“You know what, Donut?” I asked as I sat down on the bed. She just looked at me, a strange, unreadable fear in her eyes. “You snore, too.” The eyes softened. “I have never snored once in my life, Carl. I am both a princess and a cat. It’s quite literally impossible. Now quit talking nonsense and go to sleep.”

The show zoomed in and showed a rapid-fire list of all the loot they’d gained as Vrah took the heads of the two crawlers she’d killed—both human—and she affixed them to her carapace using some unknown method.

We saw a crawler bend over to pick up a mushroom only to get skewered by a spike that popped out of the fungus, piercing him right in the eye. He dropped dead, and his skin started boiling. “That’s the skewer belle,” Mordecai said. “If you see one, make sure you grab it for me. But always pick it by the stem. Don’t touch the top.” “Christ, Mordecai,” I said.

The hunt is on! Hunters have already claimed over 500 crawlers. But more interestingly, you guys are showing some serious spunk. We’ve already had a record number of hunters fall this season. Over 50 so far. So many that their families are starting to complain! Now that’s showing some initiative!

The allosaurus mobs have been split into two distinct mob types to accommodate a newly-generated quest. In addition, for both mob types, the strength levels have been split further by gender.

Hey, does this new system offer a way for us to fast travel?” “Not yet. Supposedly teleport portals will become available in tier three, but you can’t purchase those until the ninth floor.”

Congratulations, Crawler! You’ve received a free fan booth at CrawlCon! With thousands of physical attendees and billions of virtual visitors, Dungeon Crawler World fans from all corners of the galaxy gather once every other season to geek out together over all things Crawl! With special guests, panels, vendors, cosplay, and so much more, CrawlCon is the event of the galaxy! Thanks to your fans, you’ve been added to the CrawlCon roster! You will attend three events! Your presence at the con will be virtual. Please see your outreach associate for details on your schedule.

Autograph and Keepsake Session: Fan-favorite Crawler Carl of the current season will autograph merchandise, spend a few moments chatting, and will pose for a static image with a limited number of fans. Enter the lottery for a chance to purchase a place in line now. Refunds guaranteed* if Carl does not survive long enough to attend.

A special, limited number of duo likeness sessions also available with Carl and the Popov Brothers. Bidding is now open for VIP access.

She examined it. She already knew that it was going to be something like this, but I could see her tail droop as the realization hit her. She looked at Mordecai. “Can I go, too?” “Sorry, kid. It looks like this one is just Carl.” Donut: ZEV, I WANT TO GO, TOO!

The Royal Court of Princess Donut is now a member of the guild, Safehome Yolanda. The controlling party for this guild is Team Meadowlark. The guildmaster is crawler Imani C. This Guild is now level 7. There are six parties attached to this guild with a total of 63 crawlers. The name punched me in the gut. Despite their age difference, Yolanda had been one of Imani’s best friends.

“Carl,” Donut whispered. “I didn’t know a castor was actually a beaver. He’s disgusting.”

They walked their artillery fire across town like they were playing a giant version of the board game Battleship. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I’d be moderately impressed at their accuracy.

I placed the head on the ground and examined it. She sat there, unmoving, her jaw open like she was getting a root canal. The rocket was tied to the side of her head with duct tape, wrapped around her forehead and her neck. I pulled out my xistera extension. “Be careful. Don’t close your mouth until you see them or the catapult.” “Okay,” Samantha said. Click. “Motherfuck,” I exclaimed as I jumped back. The missile went off, launching Samantha into the air like a bottle rocket. The sex doll head screamed as we scrambled away. It corkscrewed a few times and then started to circle in the air.

There. Closer than I thought, about one and a half kilometers away, northeast of town. I couldn’t see them, but I could see exactly where they were. There was a break in the trees. A clearing. There were only two of them. They both had the glow indicating they had magical gear. They were probably already running. “Go get ‘em,” I said. I reached back and hurled, lobbing Samantha directly at them. She shot away, arcing through the air, moving ridiculously fast. I quickly lost sight of her. My eyes caught the twin flames of the rockets flaring up. She’d pulled the cord, almost perfectly over the clearing. Shit. I paused my descent. She didn’t veer off like I’d hoped, but continued her forward momentum, the rockets spinning in a circle like a flaming tire rolling across the sky. I’d tried not to throw her too hard, but it looked as if I had. But then she shot down at a right angle, just as something shot from the ground up at her. A fireball shot into the air, trying to knock her from the sky. The slow-moving projectile missed, and Samantha disappeared into the trees past the clearing just as I lowered myself fully to the ground. I could hear the distant detonation. “Yes!” I cried, pumping a fist into the air as the experience notification rolled in. “I got one of those fucksticks.” Samantha: BRING ME BACK. BRING ME BACK. FAST, FAST. BRING ME BACK.

“How was it supposed to be?” I asked. “What?” “You heard me. You said it wasn’t supposed to be like this. How was it supposed to be?”

“Fantasy hunter camp?” Donut asked from behind. “Is that what it sounds like?” “It’s so people can pretend like they’re on the show. It’s run by Vrah’s family, but once a cycle, the Dream always rents the whole moon out and lets the employees and family members play for a few days. It’s not real, but it’s fun. The best players get to play in faction wars. I did well, and I won a spot. I wasn’t ever supposed to be in real danger. But they offered me money. Please.” “Real danger?” I asked, leaning in. “Fun?” “That’s right. Please. I’m just an accountant. I work with soy crop shipping manifests all day.” “Do you know what I do every day?” I asked. Donut: CARL HURRY UP. YOU’RE DOING THE BAD GUY SOLILOQUY THING. YOU ALWAYS SAY TO NEVER DO THE SOLILOQUY THING. She was right. I was keeping an eye on my view counter, and it was spiked. I was doing this for the audience. This was important. It was important that they heard this. I wanted to drag it out a little so more viewers had a chance to tune in. At least that’s what I was telling myself. I couldn’t hear myself think. The river in the back of my brain raged, flooding, filling all the empty places it could find. This is my birthday present to you. I am giving you a chance at life. I’m sorry it took me so long. This will stop it. It’s so loud, Carl. It’s so loud. “I… I think I saw a thing. You fix boats.” “No,” I said. “That’s what I used to do. I don’t do that anymore.” “Please.” “I had a world. A whole world. A world filled wi...

Its like im cheering for him but also oof this is darkkk

Congratulations, Murderer.

I wiped my hands on my shirt. I’d forgotten to summon my gauntlet.

Donut: That was unnecessarily gruesome, Carl. Carl: I know. Donut: It’s like you’re getting angrier and angrier, and it’s scaring me. Carl: It’s hard not to be. But you’re right. I shouldn’t waste too much time telling them how I feel. But I wanted to get it out of the way at least once. I promise I’ll kill them nice and clean from now on. Donut: WELL, YOU HAVE TO ADD A LITTLE FLAIR TO IT. MAYBE WE CAN COME UP WITH A NEW CATCHPHRASE, JUST FOR KILLING THE BAD GUYS. I’M SURE IT’LL PLAY BETTER THAN YOU GOING ALL RAGING BULL ON THEM. I chuckled out loud.

“Hmm,” she said. “It’s black, and it looks like it’s made from glass. It’s just a plain bangle. It’s not as ugly as that wood anklet, but…” She gasped as she finally read the description. “Give it to me. Give it to me now, Carl.” “Just don’t, you know, burn us all alive.”

“Don’t use a fireball when we’re in a tight space,” I said. “It’s a lot more dangerous to cast than magic missile.” “I know how fire works, Carl.”

She stopped in front of an ursine cleric who’d just peeked out of his church. She started barking at him like a dog. “What? What in Pawna’s name?” the cleric asked. “I’m going to kill your mother. And Pawna is a big liar. She plays all innocent and virginal, but she’s into soaking. Look it up.” “Well, I never.”

“I don’t mean it in a good way,” Donut said. “She’s getting stronger. She’s already stronger than Mordecai said she’d ever get. She’s even rolling faster than she was this morning. He said withering spirits aren’t dangerous because even though they’re usually indestructible and crazy, they can’t do anything.”

Killing individuals may be satisfying, but the true satisfaction is hurting them on a larger scale. When one values coin above life, you should target the coin, for it hurts them more. And that is my food. My life. My god. Hurting the naga and everyone responsible for this nightmare.

but this was an actual photograph that appeared to have been taken from his Facebook page. It didn’t look anything like him. He was wearing a straw hat and had some filter turned on that gave him dog ears, nose, and tongue. I showed it to Donut, and she fell over laughing.

Using a combination of knowledge, druid magic, and a little something-something extra—wink—they’re able to rapidly construct their war machines on the fly.

“I hope for Louis’s sake it was all of them,” Donut said. “They seem to be really mad at him. I don’t know why. If you’re going to be famous, you need to deal with thirsty fans. On the Princess Posse server, I receive multiple marriage proposals a day. And there’s this one saccathian who keeps sending me pictures of his tentacles for some reason. But I don’t actually get offended by it.” She sighed dramatically. “It’s the price of fame, I suppose.”

“Put me down! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill your mother!” Samantha screamed, breaking me out of my thoughts. Mongo had picked her up and was shaking her back and forth like a chew toy. “Hey!” Donut protested.

“Carl, is that where castor oil comes from? Do they get it from beavers? Miss Beatrice used to use castor oil on her head for her hair. She insisted it made it grow faster. She did have nice hair. Almost as nice as Holger’s. She’d sometimes make me drink a drop of it so I’d poop before I went into the judging cage. It always made my stomach hurt.” She smacked her mouth. “My word, what an unpleasant memory. Come to think of it, it did taste a bit how you smell, Holger.” “She shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “I’m pretty sure castor oil is really dangerous for cats.

“Any forest-kin within a few hundred meters of an all-tree outcropping is protected from magic attacks. The tree sucks the spell in and turns it on the caster. Everybody knows that. It kills the outcropping. But it grows back in a few months. Only an idiot attacks near one of them things.”

“That’s too bad,” Donut said. “I thought maybe it was like that tree from that weird, blue alien movie with the Ghostbusters lady and that Scientologist guy who married Eric Forman’s mom on Friends.” “What?” I asked. “What are you talking about?” “Really, Carl. If you’re not going to understand my references, I don’t know why I even bother discussing classic entertainment with you.’

Corpse of Hunter The Talent. Killed by zapping himself with his own Lightning scroll. What a punk.

“Signet! Darling!” Samantha cried, her voice uncharacteristically high-pitched and friendly. She rolled up to Signet’s feet and started pushing against her, leaving muddy splotches on her leg. She had a branch in her hair. “Niece! Or is it cousin? I gotta say, I love the bare breasts. It’s good. A bold statement. They’re not as good as mine, but I am impressed that our genes have held up so well. Seriously. Those are some grade-A party pillows. Small but perky. When I first got locked up, there was a time when I did a little experimenting with these demon ladies we got locked up with, and I learned to really appreciate… You know what, never mind. You don’t want to hear about that. All I’m trying to say is nice tits. You got them from my side of the family, I’ll have you know. I don’t know why you’d besmirch such a beautiful body with so much ink, but that’s something that can be dealt with. Oh, I suppose I should call you tsarina, shouldn’t I?”

“What, exactly, do you wish for me to do for you?” Signet asked. “You have to give me your body,” Samantha said. “You’ll die, of course. But it’ll only take a few minutes. I’ll walk you through the spell. I see you’re a summoner, so you most definitely have the chops to cast it. Do you wish to get started now, or do you want to do the assault on the castle first? I mean, no offense, but that’ll be much easier once I take over. What’s your bra size? King Blaine loves them perky like that. Not too big. Just perfect. He’s sure to stop banging my mother once he sees my new body. We’ll have to expel those tattoos first, but no problem. Really, no need to apologize. Oh, I am so excited.” Signet returned her gaze to me. I laughed.

“I wanted her body,” Samantha said. “She has a nice body. I don’t see why she won’t just give it to me.”

“She’s full of shit,” Samantha grumbled.

Maybe she'll get tsarinas sisters body??

The problem was that Samantha was no dumbass. She was batshit crazy, but she wasn’t dumb.

“I’m going to kill all of them,” Samantha said. “Just you watch. I’m going to kill them all. And then their mothers.”

The area of the spell was huge, bigger than I was expecting. I was suddenly reminded of Grimaldi’s circus tent. You could hide a whole army in here.

“If something happens to me tonight, I want you to know that I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Carl. I consider you part of my family, now. And family is very important to me.”

“You can’t do this,” Future Huntress said, her voice full of fear. “You can’t do this. The Skull Empire will hunt you down and kill you.” Donut and I both laughed. “Oh, honey,” Donut said. “Are you suggesting that if we don’t kill you, the Skull Empire won’t hunt Carl down? I mean, really. What an absurd threat.”

“No, no. Please. You can’t do this. I’m a real person. Not a crawler or an NPC. I’m a real person.”

As if crawlers arent

Samantha: WHAT IS THIS WONDERFUL SONG. Carl: It’s called “Wonderwall.” Donut: CARL, YOU THREW THE WRONG TRAP.

When her parents talk about her at her funeral, what are they going to say? ‘Future Hunter the hunter was formerly a hunter before she got punched to death by a human with no pants?’ Also, what if she wanted to be an Instagram influencer or something? You’re not exactly giving your child a whole lot of choices when you name them something like that. It’s like naming your daughter Candy. Of course she’s going to become a stripper. She has no other choice. When I’m ruler of the galaxy, I’m going to institute name rules.

Carl: Did you get a chance to talk to them? Samantha: DO YOU KNOW HOW LOUD THIS THING IS? BESIDES, THERE’S NO TALKING IN WAR. ONLY TEETH AND BLOOD AND THE WAILING OF WOMEN WHO BLEED OUT AS I SEDUCE THEIR MEN AND MAKE LOVE IN THE GORE. OH GOODIE. THE SONG JUST STARTS OVER WHEN IT FINISHES. IT’S LOUDER NOW BECAUSE IT’S IN THE VENT SYSTEM.

“She’s the goddess of unrequited love,” Donut said, bopping her head. She stood atop Mongo who was sniffing suspiciously at the air. “Really? How do you know?” “I asked her, Carl.” “Huh,” I said. “Interesting.”