The world freezes.
The memory hits me like a brick. The Bug Bounty. The Angel. The choice between the legendary item and the skill level. I’d taken the level… but in the confusion of the arrival and meeting Kim, I’d never actually assigned it.
It’s right there. A forgotten round in the chamber.
A Kobold leaps toward me, jaws wide open. I don’t have time to think. Observation is useless. Recycling is too slow. Only one option left. The nastiest one.
I focus on [Public Nuisance] and mentally slam the point into it.
[Update]: Public Nuisance has reached Level 2.
[New Effect Unlocked]: “Miasma of Exile.”
Description: The stench exceeds biological tolerance thresholds.
Standard Mode (Aura):
- Range: 10 meters.
- Activation: Instant (On/Off).
- Cooldown: None.
Expansion Mode (Active):
- Range: 150 meters.
- Duration: 30 seconds.
- Cooldown: 24 hours.
I smile, a jagged, ugly thing. “Sorry, kids,” I warn them. “Plug your noses. This is gonna sting.”
I trigger the skill.
The smell hits like a freight train. An invisible shockwave erupts from me—a foul mixture of rotting corpses, sulfur, sewers fermented in the sun, and something indefinable that reeks of death itself.
Kim drops her rifle and falls to all fours, puking her guts out onto the floor, eyes bulging, unable to breathe. Chris, already down, curls into the fetal position, suffocating, his face turning purple as he gasps for air that no longer exists.
But for the Kobolds… it’s the apocalypse.
“You know how many olfactory receptors a human has?” I yell through the chaos, my own throat burning like I’ve swallowed acid. “Five million!”
I point at the monsters who are freezing up, paralyzed. “But a dog? A damn mutt like you? You’ve got three hundred million!”
What’s a puke-inducing smell for us is a lethal sensory overdose for them. Their brains can’t process the information. It’s like plugging 10,000 volts into a string of Christmas light.
In the middle of this symphony of agony, I slowly stand up. I close my eyes for a second, channeling my focus… and my toxic aura.
I start to walk. Slowly. Calmly. Every step feels heavy, intentional.
Thump. My foot hits the ground. To my right, a Kobold warrior screams and lunges at me. The second he crosses the fatal line, he freezes mid-leap. His pupils vanish, leaving only the whites of his eyes. Foam spills from his maw. He collapses in a metallic crash, stone-dead.
I don’t even look at him. I take a second step. Thump. Two spearmen approach from the left. They don’t even make it halfway. They grab their throats, suffocating in silence, and drop like synchronized sacks of dirt.
I keep moving, unfazed, cutting through the tide of monsters. The wind whips my filthy clothes, fluttering behind me like Superman’s cape. Around me, the air doesn’t get heavy with spiritual pressure, no… it becomes toxic. The Kobolds drop one after another as I pass, creating an aisle of limp bodies opening before me.
I feel like I’m on the deck of the Moby Dick, walking alone against an enemy crew that can’t hold their ground. Except where Shanks uses Conqueror’s Haki to crush wills, I’m using a much more… down-to-earth variant. It’s the Haki of the Shits.
Reaching the center of the fray, I finally stop in the middle of a circle of steaming corpses. There are still too many in the distance hesitating, terrified by this warrior who kills without touching. I calmly put my shovel away. I spread my arms wide, palms open to the sky, face turned toward the sun.
“Celestial Expansion!”
I trigger the active skill. The zone instantly jumps from 10 to 150 meters.
The stench shockwave blasts out from me like a silent nuke. Around me, it’s an immediate massacre. One by one, then by the dozens, they collapse at the same time, like cockroaches that just snorted a double dose of Raid, struck down by a massive nasal aneurysm caused by the mere scent of my magical sweat. It’s poetic. It’s beautiful.
In ten seconds, silence falls again. No more war cries. Just the sound of Kim’s dry heaves as she tries not to cough up her lungs, and a hundred and fifty Kobold corpses, dead in the worst way possible.
[Combat Over] [Kill Count]: 152
I deactivate the skill, but I keep my arms open for a moment longer, just soaking in the silence. I turn toward my companions, who are green with nausea.
“Biological superiority,” I say in a tired voice. “It’s unstoppable.”
The second I finish my dramatic sentence, my interface goes wild. A new window opens on the left side of my vision, scrolling at high speed. Lines of colored text appear, signed by completely ridiculous divine pseudonyms.
[God of Bloody War]: Finally! Not a bad explosion. Lacked decapitations, but I’ll vouch for the homemade napalm.
[The Goddess of Absolute Purity]: Gross! That’s disgusting! I can smell it through the cosmic connection! Someone get an astral air freshener! #TeamChris #SaveThePaladin
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
[The Scarlet Sovereign]: LMAO! Look at him walk! Who does this guy think he is, ME? Get over yourself buddy, you just let out a magical fart, you’re no legend!
[Primeval Chaos Troll]: “Haki of the Shits”! I’m dead! XD Look at him spreading his arms, what’s he waiting for? For Oscars to fall from the sky?
[The Creepy Hermit]: He thinks he’s Pain! I can’t! His “Celestial Expansion”… it’s more like a Gastrointestinal Repulsion! The guy isn’t pushing back gravity, he’s pushing back hygiene for 150 meters! A real Shinra Tensei of the shits!
I blink, trying to read the non-stop flow. “What the hell is this?” I mutter. “Do I have an audience?”
A cash register sound rings out suddenly in my head. Cha-ching!
[Donation]: [The Scarlet Sovereign] has sent you 10 Cosmic Gold Coins. Message: “Here, buy yourself some dignity. That was a piss-poor imitation. You’ve got the charisma of a wet sock, but you made me laugh.”
I watch the virtual coins add to my balance. “Great,” I grumble. “I’ve become a sideshow freak for bored deities. They treat me like a clown, but they pay.”
I turn to the [Deity Chat] tab that just activated, showing a counter of 6 viewers. “Hey!” I shout at the ceiling, raising my middle finger high. “Hey, Stumpy! If you’re not happy, come down here so we can settle this with the shovel! And thanks for the cosmic gold, you cheapskate! 10 coins? Is that all my genius is worth?”
Kim and Chris, who’ve finally stopped puking, look at me like I’ve gone insane. I’m standing there, screaming insults at the empty sky in the middle of a mass grave of stinking monsters.
“Who are you talking to?” Kim asks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“To my fans,” I reply, closing the window with an annoyed wave. “Apparently, they liked the smell of victory. Come on, let’s get out of here, fast. The respawn won’t be long, and I don’t feel like putting on another layer of deodorant.”
No one protests. We leave the slaughterhouse, limping along. Kim has a hand over her mouth to hold back another dry heave. Chris is moving like a broken robot. His [Logistical Resilience] skill keeps him from collapsing of exhaustion, but it doesn’t stop the pain. He’s covered in a mess of bruises and shallow cuts. His health bar is in the red, even if his legs keep moving.
We reach the massive door leading to the third floor. I throw it open and we duck inside.
The air changes instantly. It’s fresh, neutral. A small circular room made of white stone, empty of any monsters. A safe zone.
“Finally,” I sigh.
In the center of the room, a modest wooden chest sits in the center, pulsing with a faint glow.
“A reward,” I say, stepping closer. “It’s about time.”
Behind me, I hear two dull thuds. Kim and Chris have let themselves slide against the wall, unable to take another step. Chris has a glazed look in his eyes. He isn’t sleeping, but his body is wrecked.
I squat in front of the chest and lift the lid. The creak is the most beautiful music I’ve heard since this whole mess started.
A loot window opens before my eyes.
[Congratulations! Room Cleared] [Group Reward]:
- 5 Minor Healing Potions (Quality: Mediocre) - Description: A murky mixture that tastes like bleach, truly gross. Restores a portion of HP and closes minor cuts. Condition: Only works if HP > 10%.
- 5 Mana Potions (Quality: Mediocre) - Description: A slimy liquid with a sour sting. Looks like lemon juice mixed with battery acid. Restores a small amount of Mana.
- 5 Status Restoration Potions (Anti-Poison/Paralysis)
- 100 Cosmic Gold Coins
- 1 Shield (+2 Defense) - [Garbage Man Class] [Common]
- 1 Leather Chestpiece (+2 Defense) - [Porter Class] [Common]
- 1 Thug’s Knife (+2 Attack) [Common]
I stare at the “shield.” It’s literally a metal trash can lid, round, with a handle welded haphazardly to the inside. “They’re really messing with me until the very end,” I mutter, pulling it out of the chest.
I turn to the two walking corpses. “Santa came early, kids.”
I toss a dark red healing potion to each of them. “Drink this before you kick the bucket. It’s bottom-shelf stuff, tastes like bleach, but it’ll fix your HP. Kim, here, mana.”
I toss the Leather Chestpiece onto Chris’s knees. “Put this on. Your foam armor is done. It’s Porter leather, it should keep you from getting holes poked in you next time.”
Then, I slide the Thug’s Knife toward Kim. “Out of bullets? You’ve got a knife. It’s +2 Attack, better than your fingernails.”
I take out the cosmic gold coins and make two small piles. “For the cosmic gold, we split it. 33 for you, 33 for you.”
I pocket the extra coin without a hint of shame. “And the rest for me. Performance bonus. I solo-killed 152 monsters while you were decorating the floor with your puke. Call it a carbon tax.”
I then grab my new shield. I slide my arm into it. It fits perfectly. I’ve got a shovel in my right hand, a trash lid in my left.
“Beautiful,” I say. “I look like a Junkyard Knight. Tremble, monsters, the Sanitation Department is on the march.”
The adrenaline wears off, and suddenly I feel every single year of my life. Chris and Kim are leaning against the wall, eyes half-closed. The healing potions have closed their wounds, but they don’t fix the mental fatigue. Kim’s complexion is waxy, her fake cloud tattoos looking dull on her pale skin. Chris looks like he’s aged ten years in an hour. He has purple circles under his eyes and his brand-new leather chestpiece is already scratched up.
As for me… I feel my forty years hit me like a semi-truck. With 40% HP left, every move is torture. I slump against the empty chest, clutching my trash lid like a metal security blanket.
“Just… five minutes,” I mutter.
I drift off before I even finish the sentence.
***
“Wake up. We’ve slept enough.”
Kim’s voice pulls me out of the void. I’ve got sleep crust in my eyes. She’s standing there, rifle on her shoulder, face washed. She looks fresh, ready to kill. It’s annoying.
I give Chris’s leg a little kick to wake him up. “Mmh… five more minutes, mom…” he babbles.
He sits up, looking like hell. His hair is a total mess, he’s got the texture of the stone imprinted on his cheek, and a dried string of drool at the corner of his mouth. He’s blinking like a mole in broad daylight.
“How long were we out?” I ask, cracking my back.
“Six hours,” Kim says.
My stomach lets out a loud growl. Chris’s follows right after, sounding like an angry bear. We haven’t eaten since that convention hot dog.
“Great,” I grumble. “Now we’re starving.”
Kim ignores our stomachs and looks at the closed door we came through. “Floor 2 was way more dangerous than the first,” she says, looking grim. “Floor 1 was a walk in the park. Here… we almost bought it. The difficulty curve is insane.”
I rub my face, clearing the last of the sleep fog. “The guy who designed this floor is a total sadist.”
I point toward the exit door. “Think about it. Floor 1? Slow Slimes in a hallway. The message was clear: ‘It’s easy, run, sprint for the exit!’ It conditioned players to rush.”
I mime a sprint with my fingers. “Then, Floor 2? Wide plain, visible exit only 400 meters away. What’d the idiots who ran through Floor 1 do? They thought ‘Cool, it’s a short one!’ and charged into the tall grass.”
Chris starts to get it, eyes wide. “And they ran into the 152 Kobolds…”
“Exactly. Instant ambush,” I say, rubbing my face. “You can’t run in that green hell. They got surrounded and shredded. But the worst part is the respawn mechanic.”
I shiver, thinking about that infinite tide. “It took us time to kill a few, and they just came back on the fly. The longer we stayed, the more we got gassed, while the monsters just died and came back brand new. It was an extreme endurance test. If you don’t have the DPS to clear the zone faster than the respawn, you die of exhaustion. It’s a ‘noob filter’, kid. And we just barely made it through.”
Chris looks at me, shocked by my read on the game. “Lucky you used your skill then… If we’d had to fight fair, we’d be dead.”
I shrug, scratching a soot smear on my arm. “Yeah. But now that my brain’s rested, I realize I didn’t even need to reek like a corpse. I know the hidden mechanic of this floor. It was a physics puzzle, not a fight.”
I point to the glowing ceiling and then his polished shield. “All we had to do was start a fire. That tall grass is drier than straw, number one cause of summer fires. All we needed was the light reflecting off your shield, or my trash lid now, to focus a beam and start a spark. In two minutes, the whole floor would’ve blazed up.”
Chris starts to protest, but I cut him off. “And the best part is, we were safe. We just had to sprint back to the entrance steps after setting the fire. It’s a ‘Safe Zone’. The rule of a Safe Zone is usually absolute: no monster, no fire, no smoke can cross that invisible threshold. We could’ve sat there, nice and cozy, watching the Kobolds roast like sausages from the front row without taking a single point of damage.”
I sigh, thinking back to our desperate struggle. “But hey, in the heat of the moment, surrounded in the middle of the arena, we didn’t have the hindsight for that kind of cheese strategy.”