(Mount Ziggy/Lepidos Layer – Occupation: Lit) (Amos)

  Next Day

  Lepidos Layer, a network of one hundred thirty rooms, leads to the final demi-god boss, Lepidos, the Titan. Developers claim that the reward for defeating a demi-god is extraordinary, though players have yet to discover what it is since the game's release five years ago.

  Many have tried to reach Lepidos, but the Layer exhausts them, demanding endurance unlike any other boss. On average, it takes six hours to reach the end, a known limit for those who've played the game to its fullest.

  While the first ten rooms can accommodate multiple players, the subsequent rooms fit only one, with the first room serving as the Guardian of Lepidos.

  Amos and Carp are in the north-east. Christ and Zero are in the south-east. Ship and Smokey are in the south-west. Vodka and Hypno are in the north-west.

  Xander and Cazel hold the center as they watch the timer count down. One hour to achieve twenty-five kills, and they are already fatigued. After this, they must rotate, even though their task isn’t complete. Muscles tense as the clock strikes zero, and their eyes shift to the stone ceiling above.

  Under the mountain, in such a vast room, even the strongest can feel claustrophobic with the thought of running out of oxygen lingering in the back of their minds.

  Two orbs descend as ash and particles from the room's corners become magnetized, floating toward them. A two-meter-tall monstrous form creates a giant meat cleaver from thin air and slams it into the ground. It resembles a human with a masked face and a hunchback.

  Cazel steps in front of Xander, wielding a steel halberd, a great sword on his back, two short swords sheathed on each side, and four additional weapons in his inventory. As their skills and items evolve, Cazel’s fighting style is developing—a unique approach he calls “doing what the fuck he wants.”

  Amos can’t think of anyone else who fights like Cazel. He wants to maintain his distance—spear, halberd, or strife bow. If the opponent moves in and knocks Cazel’s weapon away, he’ll be forced to close the distance and risk a maul to the skull or claws to the throat. Although withdrawing his weapons takes longer, he still manages to pull them out faster than a typical player swapping items from their inventory. It all started at age thirteen when he struggled to decide which weapon he liked most.

  The Guardian of Lepidos brings down his meat cleaver onto Cazel’s halberd. If it weren’t imbued, it would have snapped like a twig. Though the ground cracks beneath him, Cazel remains steady. “One!”

  Xander circles closer to the monster, slashing its massive leg. “Two!”

  The knee crashes into the ground, causing the cleaver to feel lighter for Cazel as he sidesteps the weapon and switches his halberd for his spear. Casting Zap-Fist, his spear ignites in lightning as he spins it toward the monster. Launching the spear at incredible speed, it blows a hole large enough to expose the giant’s two eyes. “Three!” A steel maul appears out of thin air in Cazel’s hand before he jumps.

  Xander leaps onto the back of the Guardian's leg as he raises his longsword. With another jump from the leg to the monster's back, Xander slashes a long line across, exposing the two orbs. “Four!”

  “FIVE!” Cazel brings down his maul. The giant pushes back, knocking Cazel forward.

  Losing his balance, Cazel still manages to smash one of the orbs as the Guardian of Lepidos dissipates into dirt and debris.

  Xander attempts to slash the second orb before it escapes but is blinded by the floating dust, like a storm.

  The orb and dust storm race across the room. The orb is slashed in half as it forms, causing the dirt and dust to settle. They position the others at each corner because the action is swift and expected.

  Vodka emerges from the dust cloud, holding broken pieces of armor. “Never lucky.”

  All nine other WAL members echo, “Never lucky.” It's a ritual they perform after every kill, even if it grants them a unique item drop.

  “Yo Cazel, Xander, don’t you think you two should switch out with someone else?” Vodka asks, concerned. “You both could use a break.”

  “Yeah, swap with Carp and me,” Amos shouts from the other corner.

  Xander nods. “Yeah… Sure thing,” he replies between breaths. As they pass Amos and Carp, Xander pats both younglings on the shoulders. “Sucks not being max level…”

  “Remember, Carp, I block, you strike. Me, you, me, you,” Amos instructs. Though he feels better, he still doesn’t want to risk losing blood unless necessary, making him think about conserving blood for situations like this.

  “Right!”

  “Relax, you still have four minutes until he spawns again,” Cazel reassures.

  Amos turns to his friend. “How are you feeling?”

  Cazel brushes dirt off his shoulder. “Sweaty and huffing, but I'm good.”

  “No, I mean…” Amos hesitates to say what he really means. He still needs to talk with Cazel, a real one… But he struggles to find the words. “Sure, tough guy, I bet you could go another thirty rounds.”

  Cazel chuckles and turns to Xander in the corner. “Damn right.”

  Amos stares at the back of his friend. Why is it so hard to bring it up? Does he not care about one of his best friends? He feels like a piece of shit. Amos glances at Cazel’s smile… Maybe he doesn’t need to say anything; Cazel might figure it out on his own.

  Carp grabs Amos’s shoulder. “Smokey wanted me to tell you if you get dizzy, get out of there. It’s not worth being tough given your situation.”

  Amos smiles and places his hand on Carp’s head. “Sure… Though I should be okay.” That morning, Amos tested his capabilities with movement and low g-force turns. Nothing to worry about. But it feels unnatural how his body responds differently from the virtual reality he experienced before entering this world.

  A minute counts down, and with heavy anticipation, Amos feels more nervous than before fighting the Dulman clan. Why is that?

  “Big brother, are you going to withdraw your weapon?” Carp asks.

  Amos waves back at Carp as he moves in front of the youngling. “Not yet.” He realizes he isn't left with much choice. A small tablet appears in his hand as a thin, paper-like strip is peeled from it. He has dirty gauntlets, but Amos doesn’t care as he places the strip under his tongue. As his dealer indicated, it should take a minute before the first effects are noticeable. But all he wants is to calm his nerves.

  Two orbs begin to descend as all the dust and dirt particles swirl into the same spot, morphing into the Guardian of Lepidos.

  Amos looks up at the behemoth as his nerves instantly fade. Fuck, he didn’t need to take the strip.

  The monster raises its arm as the large cleaver materializes in seconds, bringing it down on the puny human.

  Amos sidesteps the cleaver effortlessly, placing the fingers of his gauntlets along the thick stretch of compressed dirt-like metal before the blade crashes into the ground. Amos walks closer to the monster, gliding his hand along the giant weapon.

  Carp circles the guardian, poised to strike on Amos’s command.

  “One!” Amos shouts.

  The guardian drops its fist toward Carp, who leaps back into a spin, slicing up the giant's arm.

  Carp opens his left palm toward the giant as it begins to glow. Two tier-two Fire Bolts blind the Guardian before it can react. “Two!”

  Lifting the cleaver, the monster ignores Amos and strikes for Carp, who slides under the blade and pushes himself up with the help of his steel longsword.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Remember you have two, three, and four,” Amos says nonchalantly, as if he isn’t in a fight.

  Straight up, Carp moves in fast for the enemy's body. “Three!” In no more than a second, Carp slices the torso, causing the giant to fall. “This is easy!” Leaping high in the air, Carp performs two flips before steadying himself and bringing down the final blow early. “Six!”

  Amos’s eyes widen. “WAIT!”

  The Guardian of Lepidos shouts as the large body jolts up and down, shaking the room around him. Quickly rising to its feet, a fist clobbers Carp mid-air.

  Carp rolls along the fist in one swift motion, his vision fixed on the cleaver blade coming within feet of him. He won't have enough time to get out of the way.

  Amos flashes before the youngling, taking the brunt of the hit as the blade digs deep past his heavy armor and into his flesh. Pain amplifies as his eyes roll to the back of his head. His body is pushed into Carp’s, slamming into the ground hard.

  Carp flops along the ground as he lifts his head to the side. “AMOS!” His eyes widen as Carp’s gaze shifts, not to a blade, but to Amos standing with his great axe raised overhead.

  Standing over the youngling, Amos drops the axe, and the tip of the blade begins to line the ceiling as the weapon descends. Amos focuses his curse into the sharp slice of the air as he doesn’t have close contact between the metal and the Guardian. A blur cuts the room in half, shaking the roof to the far end of the space. Air blasts across the room for six seconds as the others stumble back until everything stabilizes. Even the Guardian of Lepidos doesn’t move.

  Not long after, the orbs split into four pieces, and the monster puffs into dust and dirt.

  Amos holds the blade an inch from the ground. If he were to drop it entirely, it could be bad for those around him. The axe vanishes into thin air, returning to his inventory before he collapses. A line of blood runs from his shoulder to the bottom of his waist. The wound is so deep he can see his rib cage, with some ribs appearing chipped.

  Christ is the first to rush to Amos’s side, offering gemmed snacks. “Quick, eat this!” Without giving Amos a chance to respond, he shoves the healing food into Amos’s mouth.

  After a few gulps, the wounds across Amos’s chest slowly fill like putty. Though the pain doesn’t subside immediately, he doesn’t seem too out of it.

  “You good, lil’ bro?” Christ asks, his voice filled with concern.

  Zero and Cazel echo the same question as more of the clan gathers around him.

  “Guys… guys!” Amos commands their attention. “I don’t think shouting the same thing makes it any different.” Finally, after about fifteen seconds, the pain begins to subside, but the ghost pain lingers in the back of his mind. Amos slumps over, cradling his face in his hands, until he hears sniffling behind him. Turning around, he sees Carp, helmet off, tears in his eyes.

  “I-I… Brother, I’m sorry!” Carp covers his face with his gauntlets, rubbing some of the tears onto the metal and the little leather showing. “I’m sorry for getting cocky!”

  Amos stares up at Smokey, who glances back and forth between him and Carp. He’s probably debating whether to scold his brother.

  Though Amos wants to scold the youngling, leaving that option for Smokey seems better. If necessary, Amos can remind Carp of this moment during their lessons to ensure the kid doesn’t repeat his mistake. It’s all good. “Right…” After a few deep breaths, Amos opens his hand for Christ to help him. As he stands, the room spins, and down he goes again.

  “Are you sure you’re good, Amos?” Xander asks.

  Are their faces warped? Glancing at his hands… Holy shit, his fingers are long as hell! And now they’re twisting into a pretzel. Amos doesn’t even like pretzels, but his fingers are starting to look delicious. Salty…

  “Amos?” Christ says, his voice muffled. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Maybe Christ wants some finger-shaped pretzels. Amos raises his hands to show his clanmates, but by the time they’re in view, his fingers are back to normal. Nope, wait… they’re good now. Hold on… The room is stretching, as if it’s expanding!

  Amos attempts to stand again but falls into Ship’s arms. He starts to snicker. “Room goes zoom.” A wide grin creeps across his face.

  The clanmates exchange glances.

  “Forget me!” Amos says, trying to get up with their help. “Whaaaaat did we get for loot? Let me guess! Never lucky, right? Welp, never lucky it is.” A car horn honks a mile away, causing Amos’s head to snap toward the sound. Wait… there aren't any cars in this game. Are there? Amos moves closer to Zero. “Pst! Does this game have cars?”

  “What?” Zero asks, a puzzled expression on his face.

  “Well, if there is one, tell the people who beeped their horn not to do that! It’s distracting,” Amos says with a soft chuckle.

  “How hard was Amos hit?” Vodka ponders aloud.

  Colors begin to warp and shift, rising and falling around him. “What the fuck…”

  “I think we should cut this early,” Xander suggests. “Amos might have some brain damage…”

  (Frauw – Occupation: Lit) (Amos)

  After five long hours of panicking about Amos's health, only to discover that he had taken more than the recommended dosage of rudey, everyone was fed up with him. Though the effects were minor, the main concern was Amos’s overly relaxed state, with some side effects, like random chuckles every ten minutes.

  “Really, Amos! You took LSD?” Zero fumes.

  Amos rubs his eyes. For the last twenty minutes, he’s been on the couch, getting chewed out more than Carp, who got him hurt. “It’s called rudey, and I took it because I was on edge.”

  “Mate, you took most of the stack,” Zero says. “I thought you were so fucked up you’d be a vegetable for the rest of your life! No! You were just high!”

  “I’m sorry!” Amos replies.

  Zero shakes his head, holding his hand out. “Give it!”

  Without argument, the tablet appears in Amos’s palms. “Whatever…”

  Sara breaks away from Christ and makes her way to Amos. Rubbing his head, she lowers herself to his level. “Amos, we’re only mad because we care. I was scared you could’ve died.”

  “Jesus fuck!” Amos shouts as he stands, only to get dizzy and fall back down.

  “Is a great man,” Xander adds to Amos’s blasphemous curse.

  “I get it! Just back off! You guys have been on me since I first said something,” Amos says, holding his head. “After all that, I’m never taking it again.”

  Christ chuckles. “Yeah, because that Yankers girl said it was similar to LSD. First time going in that hard, and it’ll rock you for a long time.”

  Amos leans forward into his palms. “Gee, thanks.”

  “Just sip on some black coffee, and you’ll feel like new in no time,” Christ says as he walks into the kitchen. After hearing about the rudey, Christ is the only one who finds the whole thing hilarious. At least someone’s in a good mood.

  Smokey moves in closer as the few around Amos disperse. “Hey, brother.”

  Amos lifts his tired gaze to Smokey, who gives him a concerned smile. “Right… Is it really necessary to scold me after all that?”

  Smokey shakes his head. “I’m not gonna do that. I want to thank you for protecting Carp, even after he got cocky. He would’ve been sliced in half if not for your quick thinking and sacrifice. Thank you.”

  Amos’s eyes widen. In reality, his body just moved on its own—he didn’t have time to think, just muscle memory from years of playing the game. If he’d thought about the pain, he might’ve hesitated. What does he even say to that?

  Smokey steps aside as Carp moves in closer to Amos. “I’m sorry for getting ahead of myself. If you can forgive—”

  Amos cuts him off. “Cardio.”

  Carp’s head bobs back, and he tries to say something, but his words come out jumbled.

  “Cardio,” Amos repeats. “As punishment, I’m going to run you ‘til your lungs turn to steel.”

  Carp’s expression shifts through several emotions before landing on a smile.

  After everything that happened and getting chewed out, seeing the youngling smile warms something in Amos's heart, making him forget about missing his parents and being stuck in this awful place. For the first time in a month—no, over a year, since his mother got cancer—he can finally breathe easily. Well, until the throbbing in his head returns.

  “Alright, I’m heading back to the monastery,” Vodka announces.

  “When will you be back?” Amos asks.

  “Two days, or ‘til that migrant situation is handled,” Vodka replies. “Then I should be here permanently, visiting the monks occasionally. Who knows, I might introduce you guys to Aasha.”

  “Aasha, who?” Amos questions.

  Sara snickers. “His girlfriend.”

  Amos snaps his head back to Vodka, only to be blown away by the beauty of the Sword of the Gods. Xander got the sword early, but it was agreed that Vodka would receive the first one, and afterward, it would be fair game for anyone. But why is Vodka flexing his blade? “What?”

  “It’s yours. Take it,” Vodka says.

  “But we agreed the first one is yours,” Amos argues.

  “Yes, we did. And I have it here, in my inventory,” Vodka responds. “This is your one-kill-count Sword of the Gods; you spooned rat.”

  Hypno shakes his head as he steps out from the hallway. “One out of one hundred and fifty chance. You, Amos, are the definition of spooned.”

  Everyone from the kitchen to the couch across the dinner table nods in agreement, their hums and head tilts in perfect unison, like a hive mind.

  Amos takes the Sword of the Gods in his hands. Though he can technically use it at his current strength level, it would be better for him to fight with bronze weapons. Everyone with a curse always carries one bronze weapon and a primary weapon. Though Amos relies on bronze, he keeps two other weapons in his inventory, just in case one breaks. Looking at the youngling behind Vodka, Amos gestures for Carp to come over. “Take this. You’d make better use of it than I would.”

  Carp’s heart nearly pounds out of his chest. “R… Really?” Carp stutters. “Thank—”

  Amos presses the sword’s hilt against Carp’s chest. “Don’t thank me,” he interrupts. “It’s less of a gift and more of a practical choice.”

  Vodka pats Carp on the shoulder. “Right, then.” After a few goodbyes and a hug from Cazel, he adds, “Be safe, brother.” Vodka tears a teleport scroll in half, and with an eerie, high-pitched sizzle, he zaps away in a burst of light.

  Opening his interface, Amos moves to the message tab, only to be hit with a flood of messages from his students—most from his seven students in RoT. Guess one of his clanmates told them about him while he was messed up. As always, Amos smiles. He doesn’t really expect them to go out of their way to check if he’s okay, but just knowing some effort was made brings warmth to him. He really should meet up with them sometime. The last time he saw them was at school, months ago.