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

by Matt Dinniman

We watched a one-armed, pale, and sick-looking Quan Ch switch from Imperial Security Trooper to Sergeant-at-Arms. “Well, that’s a lie, now isn’t it? It should just be Sergeant-at-Arm, not arms,” Donut quipped. “The next time we see him, I hope you rip his other arm off, Carl. Then he’ll just be a Sergeant.”

“What is this supposed to be?” I asked. “It’s you getting eaten by a brindle grub,” the boy, Keith, said. “My dad says if you weren’t the AI’s toy, that’s probably how you would’ve really died. He says you’re a cheater and you whore yourself to the macro AI and to the mudskippers. He says now that the brain worms have taken over, you’re going to die any day now.” “Ask your dad why that other guy is always coming over when he’s not home,” I said. I reached over and clicked the number one on the virtual tablet that hovered in front of me. “Next.”