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

by Matt Dinniman

“Okay, buddy. We gotta be quick. You are balls deep in the wrong hole, and mom is pulling into the driveway. You get me?” “I… What?”

“What if she uses her evil whore sex magic to lure him away forever? Like one of those school teacher ladies?”

“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 with people. Some good, some bad. But most of us just wanted to work a little, live a normal life, maybe fall in love, have an adventure or two. And that was it.” “Please,” he said again. “I can pay you. I don’t have a lot. But I’ll give you everything I have.” You have marked Akland. Akland’s highest stat is Constitution. “I’m going to show you what I do now.”

You know what, never mind. You don’t want to hear about that. All I’m trying to say is nice tits.

almost certain that Prepotente believed this, too. This was also something that trauma could do. It could make you blind, and it could open your eyes wider than they’d ever been, all at the same time.

It roared. The river, it roared.

Carl: Florin, you know the rule. We all agreed to it. If Imogen took the form of one of our loved ones, the intended target goes down the stairs. Florin: Go fuck yourself, Carl. I don’t see your cat going down the stairs. Now back off. I’m fine.

And here! We! Go! The world unfroze. Gore plummeted along with an outrageous amount of acorns. The mantises took to the air, turning to a buzzing swarm as the hunters fell like rocks. Most of us slowly started to float downward, falling in a mist of thrashing, angry bugs. It was like we were paratroopers jumping straight into hell.

“Probably the same reason they gave you the potion to give to me,” Donut said. “Our sponsors want us to work together.” “Oh, yes,” Prepotente said. “Thank you for reminding me.” Crawler Prepotente has left the party.