After the Karjok decimated the entire lobby, I hurried to the row of old-timey elevators at the end of the lobby. Two of them dinged, their wrought-iron gates peeled open, and several more Godfeathers flew out, guns blazing.
I dodge-rolled until I reached the reception desk and dove over it. It made for great cover, though I took a few more hits, getting there. With my ballistic vest’s protection, the bullets didn’t amount to anything bad enough to warrant using my last Health Pack. Instead, I relied on Silas.
| + 10 HP |
| + 3 HP |
| + 8 HP |
“Can’t you heal me more than that?” I growled. It was irrational of me, but I couldn’t help but be frustrated by the entirety of this debacle.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Silas chided. “Is my biokinetic ability to command the platelets, neutrophils, macrophages, fibroblasts, and endothelial cells within your body to hasten recovery beyond the norm not enough of a Neptune-darned miracle for you? Great Barrier Reef, you’ll complain about anything!”
I blinked at him while bullets flew everywhere, mostly from the Karjok suctioned to the walls around us. “You have a very inconsistent and transient understanding of the world, as if you conveniently know just enough to be ridiculous.”
He winked at me. “Now you’re getting it. We’ve got other problems, though.”
As before, the Karjok horde did most of the work for me. The new batch of Godfeathers had no idea what they were walking into when they stepped off those elevators, and they went down even faster than the previous crew. I reloaded my AR-15 and vaulted over the reception desk.
Chancellor Hachem slithered over to me and snapped a new magazine into his machine gun, then he adjusted his seaweed diadem. “Huzzah! Now what?”
“Just cover me until I get to Sync. Blast any Godfeathers you see.”
Chancellor Hachem saluted me and ordered the Karjok to fan out and take up guard positions.
Near the elevators I found a doorway to the stairwell, and I went in, followed by the consortium of Karjok. I never shied away from a chance to get a few more steps in, and climbing thirty-plus floors of stairs would make for a good workout. Throw in a few more Godfeathers hurrying down the stairs, and it became a tactical fitness experience.
The Godfeathers who descended either got shot or received muzzle-velocity Karjok attacks to their faces. The stairs kept us from getting caught off-guard because we could always hear the Godfeathers coming, and the Karjok proved even sneakier than I’d expected, often hitting the bird men by surprise before I got the chance to shoot them.
I checked my WHIM for Sync’s location. Since we were in-game friends now, I easily located her above me, at the top.
Most importantly, she was still alive.
“We’re coming, Sync!” Silas shouted.
“Silas, swap me.” I traded him the AR-15, and I took the pistol. I wanted to utilize my abilities to the fullest, so I equipped Rook’s Revenge in my left hand, gripping it by the barrel. Thanks to my new Scrapper skill, I could wield it in my left hand and still could shoot the pistol with my right.
Chancellor Hachem and the Karjok clan continued clambering across the walls and up the stairs alongside Silas and me. Classic decadent chandeliers and wall sconces reflected off the marble floors in a spectacular ambiance. It reminded me of some of the older hotels I’d stayed at in New York, and those memories fueled my fervor to return to the real world.
Eider duck down duvet and matching pillows… Eider duck down duvet and matching pillows…
I don’t know why I’d fixated on that specifically, but it kept my legs moving, so I stuck with it.
I reached a landing between floors and fired several quick rounds at a Godfeather higher on the stairs. He shielded his Accipitridae bird-face but I still hit him a few times.
I realized then, as I hurried up the stairs with alarming speed (thanks to my 18-point Speed stat) that I had never even heard of a bird named the Accipitridae, yet somehow, I’d not only identified it in a glance, but I’d also determined what type of bird each of the other Godfeathers were just as quickly.
It made no sense, just like so many other elements of this obnoxious place.
Anyway, before the Accipitridae could react, I whacked him with Rook’s Revenge. The blow slammed him into the wall and left him with the Bonked debuff, and he tumbled down the stairs. The Karjok climbed over him as they passed, and he endured a thorough round of octo-kicks until he exploded into feathers. As with all the others, I left his loot box behind.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
One of our biggest issues was that many of these Players had multiple attempts thanks to The Godfeather’s game rules, so they’d respawn, and the cycle would continue. As far as I knew, none of the Karjok had extra lives, nor did Sync or I, so this was our one and only shot at saving her and getting out alive.
Every other stair platform bore a window, and every time I passed, I noted how high we were climbing. How are we gonna get outta here once we reach the top floor?
As we climbed higher, I applied my considerable intellect to work on our problem of escaping.
With the Karjok intervening on our behalf, the near-constant gunfire, and consistent explosions of glitter, sparkles, and feathers, the chaos resembled some days at the office. In both the real world and especially here in the AllVerse, I had developed the advantage of enduring nonsense.
As I passed another window, we reached the halfway point.
A Great Horned Owl Godfeather hooted and jumped out, wielding a baseball bat. He drew it back for a swing, but my Karjok allies gunned him down before he could wallop me. He burst into glitter and feathers like all the others.
“Not today, birdie-boy!” taunted Will, who was one of the Karjok we’d met back at the water treatment plant. “Slow as a starfish!”
Clink. Clink. Clink.
“Hey, what’s that?” Will asked, pointing with one of his blue-and-green tentacles. “It looks like a little can or something? And why’s it flashin’?”
“That’s a grenade!” Silas warned. “They hurt!”
A flashing red grenade landed on the stairs just ahead of me. The Karjok shrieked and scurried away from it as fast as they could.
I dodge-rolled back down the stairs—which felt as great as it sounds—just as the grenade exploded. I’d retreated just far enough that the blast didn’t turn me to paste, but the force still catapulted me right through the window on this landing.
The pane shattered, and I fell out of the hotel, seventeen floors high, wreathed in glitter and glass, and dripping numbers.
| -208 HP |
| Status: Bonked |
| Further head trauma may result in loss of consciousness. |
“Gotcha!” Silas howled, and my falling momentum stopped.
I hadn’t registered much after the grenade blew, but when I looked up, I saw him clinging to me with four tentacles, while four other Karjok, each of them suctioned to the shattered windowsill, held onto him. Through my malaise, I recognize that two of them were Will and Fredrick.
My ears rang from the explosion, and my vision blurred. I dangled from the side of the hotel, secured by the stretchy limbs of imaginary space octopus and nothing else.
If this was plot armor, it sure as shell wasn’t how I’d expected it to look.
“So they can only use Tommy guns and revolvers, but somehow a grenade is also okay?” I slurred, still attempting to get my bearings. “What’s the consistency standard here?”
“It would be more beneficial for you to pull yourself back inside rather than complaining again.” Silas strained to keep hold. “What’s the point of all your bluster about ‘eating heavy’ and ‘lifting light’ if you can’t even climb back up? I can’t do everything for you.”
I grunted, not bothering to correct him, and I reached up and gripped the windowsill. My fingers found several shards of glass, which felt as awesome as you’d expect, as I hauled myself inside.
Numbers floated in my vision, and sharp pains throughout my body informed me I had glass shards embedded all over. When I looked down, I was a mess of glitter pretty much everywhere except for my ballistic vest, and even that wasn’t unscathed anymore.
By the time I got back inside, the Karjok had already dealt with the grenade-chucking Godfeather. Amazingly, all of them had survived, although about ten of them had dancing seashells over their heads and were blackened almost thoroughly enough to satisfy Gordo Rameses, but otherwise they were alright. Other Karjok were in the process of slap-healing their betentacled brethren.
“Great grenadiers and glassfish, that was close,” Chancellor Hachem grumbled. “Shall we press on?”
“I’m ready when you are.” I winced as I plucked shards from my arms and legs. “Silas, you—wait, where’s the AR?”
“ARRRR is what pirates say! Heh… heh…” Silas replied sheepishly. “Thought a little levity might help you take this news better. Kinda had to drop it to catch you… Oh, don’t give me that look! And don’t you dare complain about it, either!”
I corralled my rage and directed it at the bird men because, as much as I hated to admit it and would forever deny it, I wouldn’t have made it this far without the Karjok.
“Next time,” I said between clenched teeth, “put it in your inventory.”
Silas started to give some sort of retort, but he just huffed.
“Fair. I admit that out of my available options, dropping the rifle wasn’t ideal, but I couldn’t let you die.”
“Thanks for that,” I conceded.
“I mean,” Silas continued, “we might’ve lost the Eldritch Horror Octo-Boxers forever.”
I sighed and shook my head. “Alright, let’s go.”
“Preparation H, lads and lasses!” Silas called.
With no other warning, a dozen Karjok leapt at me and suctioned to my body.
“Aaahh!” I yelped, surprised.
“You literally asked for more healing only minutes ago,” Silas reminded me. “Wish granted!”
It felt like receiving dozens of slimy, fleshy hugs all at once, and I hated it, even when they began to heal me.
“Preparation H? Really?” I wobbled, unsteady from the Bonked debuff and the sudden influx of added weight to my frame. The tinnitus in my ears intensified for a moment, but as the Karjok smacked me, it ebbed away, along with the Bonked debuff.
“Soothing relief from all manner of ailments,” Silas said. “The H stands for ‘Healing.’”
“I promise you, it doesn’t.”
The Karjok eventually relinquished their squishy hold on me, and for another agonizing stretch of time, we climbed the remaining fifteen floors.
I pressed onward, fueled by pure mayhem, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants-Erik Shaw brilliance, and the knowledge that Sync would eventually give up and date me for my manly heroics. Certainly not my end goal by any means, but I considered it a bonus objective alongside my main purpose of escaping this digital nightmare.
“A bunch of feathered hooligans are following us up the stairs!” Will announced.
I groaned, but Chancellor Hachem was already on it.
“Fredrick, you, Will, and ten more warriors,” he ordered, “keep the stairs covered.”
We were almost there. I entrusted our rear safety—Preparation H, indeed—to the Karjok and soon reached the top of the stairwell. I held my weapons up.
“Ready?” I asked Silas, who was perched on my shoulder, as usual.
“Ready,” he confirmed.
I kicked the office double-doors open.
BANG!
A flash of light and a deafening noise exploded in my face. It stunned me, and I fell backward. My head bounced off the hard marble floor, and I heard Lucretia’s voice in my head just before everything went black.
[Feud Resolved: Rickshaw Riot has lost to The Godfeather.]
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break--Royal Road. They call us the Critical Hitters.
In the desolate desert of the North American Sector, the government harvests the Soul Energy of siblings Eos and Maxima in secret.
When their powers attract the attention of a dangerous criminal organization, their routine lives are shattered. Eos and Maxima must search for freedom and the truth about their past as hostile forces close in.
The answers they seek lie behind one word—!
Occam's Favor
A grizzled ex-mech pilot is drawn back into the Everwar, a decades-long conflict raging across Jupiter’s moonscape.
This time he refuses to fight alone, bringing a crew of misfits and a mech powerful enough to rewrite the war itself.
is a can't-miss power-scaling mech series. Read it now!
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Dungeon Crawler Carl Audio Immersion Tunnel for Soundbooth Theater, and he's the lead writer for the Dungeon Crawler Carl Role Playing Game.
