I raise an eyebrow. “A house goblin? Dressed in a Hefty bag? That’s discount fantasy cosplay.”
He trembles in every limb as he sees us. “Welcome, Master Tourists! The Guide is here to serve! The Guide is so happy to explain the loots!”
Chris crouches to be at his height. “Oh, he’s… a bit weird, but nice, right?”
The Guide makes a hologram appear representing a sword and armor. “Listen well! In the Tower, monsters can drop treasures! But the drop rate is low! Very low! It’s almost nonexistent!”
He twists his hands nervously. “You have more chance to find items on the Bosses! Weapons and armor are classified by rarity: Common, Rare, Epic, Legendary, and Mythic!”
Chris raises his hand, curious. “What’s above Mythic?”
The Guide freezes. His large ears start to tremble. He opens his mouth to answer, but no sound comes out, just a strangled hiss, as if his throat were tightening on its own. “The… The Guide… can… not…”
Suddenly, he grabs his own ears, pulls them violently backward, and starts slamming his head against the stone floor.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
“THE GUIDE CANNOT SAY IT! BAD GUIDE! NAUGHTY GUIDE! HE ALMOST BETRAYED THE MASTERS’ SECRET! THE GUIDE MUST PUNISH HIMSELF!”
Chris takes a step back, eyes wide. “But… what’s happening to him?”
I watch the scene with a mix of embarrassment and boredom. “Okay, we’ve hit the NDA clause. Let’s move to the next part before he gives himself a concussion and Warner Bros. sues us.”
The Guide stands up, a large purple bump on his forehead, and resumes his explanation with a wide smile, a trickle of blood running from his nose.
“The Guide is better! Let us move to Crafting!”
He points to the holographic sword which starts to display a small “+1” next to its name.
“Finding a rare weapon is good… But that is not all! You can improve your items! Thanks to Crafting, you can strengthen them from +1 to +10!”
Reinforcement Bonus (per level):
- Common: +1 to +10 points
- Rare: +10 to +50 points
- Epic: +50 to +100 points
- Legendary: +100 to +500 points
- Mythic: +500 to +1,000 points
He starts to tremble with his whole body. “But be careful! The higher the rarity, the more difficult the Crafting is! The necessary ingredients are extremely rare! If you fail… the item can break! It is terrifying!”
He points to the holographic sword one last time. “There are two types of items! Those tied to a Class, which only the Master of the class can use… and Universal ones, for anyone!” He gets excited, speaking faster and faster. “Items can have attribute bonuses! Special effects! You can also find them in chests or as quest rewards! It is wonderful! The Guide has explained everything well!”
Suddenly, he freezes. He stares at the hologram with horror. “Oh no… The Guide forgot to specify that Cursed Items exist! The Guide forgot vital information!”
I sigh. “It’s not a big deal, buddy. We don’t care about cursed items.”
“YES! IT IS SERIOUS!” he screams. “The Guide has failed in his task! The Guide is bad! The Guide must be punished!”
He throws himself against the nearest stone wall and starts headbanging against the rock with incredible violence.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
“Bad Guide! Naughty Guide! You do not deserve to serve!”
Chris recoils, horrified. “Stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!”
“It is what the Guide deserves!” he cries out while grabbing a large stone on the floor. “The Guide is going to iron his ears flat to learn never to forget again!”
He raises the stone to crush his skull.
“Stop!” I order sharply. “That’s enough of this circus. Get out before I give you a shovel tap myself to end your suffering. This is embarrassing for everyone.”
The Guide freezes, his stone in the air. He trembles in every part of his small body.
Chris steps forward slowly. He looks at the trash bag with holes that serves as the creature’s clothing with pity. “Wait, Uncle Ben. He’s painful to look at. We can’t leave him like this.”
Chris digs into his [Atlas’s Burden]. He pulls out a pile of silver plastic and cut-up yoga mats. It’s his old “Paladin of Light” cosplay, the one he wore to the convention and had carefully packed away.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Here,” Chris says, handing him the foam breastplate, damaged from previous fights. “It’s just a costume, but it’s better than that trash bag. It’s for you. Take it.”
The Guide drops his stone, which falls on his own foot, but he doesn’t even cry out. He takes the piece of plastic with trembling hands as if it were sacred mithril. He looks at Chris, eyes wide and filled with tears. His voice becomes an incredulous whisper.
“The Master… The Master has given a garment to the Guide?”
He squeezes the foam armor against his thin chest. An ecstatic smile splits his face. “The Guide is… FREE!” he howls in a voice that breaks the sound barrier. “The Master has given a garment to the Guide! The Guide no longer has a master! The Guide is a free Guide!”
He makes a frantic bow to Chris. “Thank you, Master Paladin! Thank you! Goodbye, Tower of misfortune! Do… uh, the Guide is free!”
“Dammit, he almost said his name!” I exclaim, shocked. “We were this close to a copyright lawsuit!”
He snaps his fingers and disappears in an explosion of joyful light. We stay there, looking a bit stupid.
“That was… cute?” Kim tries, not convinced.
Suddenly, a blood-red notification, brutal and sharp, appears in the center of the room, accompanied by a high-pitched alarm sound.
[System Alert]: Desertion of post detected.
[Target]: Fourth Tier Guide.
[Sanction]: Immediate Termination.
A wet sound echoes in the void around us, like a ripe fruit being crushed, followed by a scream cut short. Then, nothing.
Chris turns pale, looking at the spot where the Guide disappeared. “Did I… did I kill the Guide?”
I let myself slide against the cold wall until I sit down. “No, kid. You freed him. The System just… processed his resignation. With immediate effect. That’s the hard law of the divine gig economy.”
I mechanically reopen the Cosmic Store, my mind still polluted by this encounter. Seriously, what’s the problem with the recruitment in this Tower? Between the librarian, the dyslexic blue dwarf, the explorer on ecstasy, and now this executed Guide… we aren’t climbing a dungeon, we’re visiting the psychiatric wing of a bankrupt animation studio.
I’m about to buy a stale bread ration to forget this circus when my gaze freezes. At the very bottom of the list, there’s an icon that shines like the Holy Grail.
[Rotgut Flask (Common)] Description: Synthetic grain alcohol. Tastes like fuel, guaranteed effect. Price: 15 CG.
My heart skips a beat. How long has it been? Four days? Five days? Since I arrived in this damn dungeon, my flask has been dry. My hands tremble slightly, and it’s not because of fatigue or combat. It’s the withdrawal. I royally ignore the food. I drop 15 coins without the slightest hesitation.
A gray metal flask appears in my hand. It’s cold. Heavy. I unscrew it feverishly, taking a long gulp. The liquid burns my throat, strips my esophagus, and lands in my stomach like a heat bomb. It’s foul. It’s donkey piss distilled in a radiator.
“Ah…” I let out in a breath, a tear of happiness at the corner of my eye. “The water of life.”
I feel my nerves relax instantly. I’m alive. I cap the flask with a sharp click. The alcohol did its job, it killed the stress, but it also cut the thread of adrenaline that kept me standing. Suddenly, the fatigue of the last four days falls on me like an anvil.
I glance at the team. Chris is swaying back and forth, eyes glazed, close to a standing coma. Kim stares at the wall with the intensity of a dead fish. We aren’t conquerors, we’re zombies.
“We aren’t moving anymore. We’re going to rest.”
“What? But we saw the numbers earlier, we’re losing places!” Kim exclaims.
“I held on for four days without closing an eye before collapsing on the raft, Kim. Those six hours of sleep were just an emergency reboot, not a restful night. I’m still in a fog, my reflexes are those of an oyster, and if I have to face a Boss now, I’m going to make a mistake. We need to be at 100%. We’re taking a real long break. We sleep, we eat, and we go when we’re brand new.”
No one argues. The fatigue argument is unstoppable. We settle into the Safe Zone. Chris falls asleep in two seconds, his head on his bag. Kim eventually nods off. I sink into a dreamless sleep.
***
BEEP.
A shrill, universal sound tears the three of us from sleep. It’s a general alarm.
[GLOBAL ANNOUNCEMENT] Congratulations to the Group ‘The Awakened’ for reaching Floor 10!
[Reward Unlocked]: Humanity Chat. Writing Condition: Only GodRunners who have reached Floor 10 or higher can send messages. Reading Condition: All participants.
I rub my eyes, still groggy. “Floor 10? Already? Some people really don’t waste time.”
A transparent chat window opens automatically in our field of vision. The first message appears.
[Hero of the Sun] (Floor 10): “Hello to all, People of Earth! I am Arthur, leader of The Awakened. Do not lose hope! We are in the lead and we are going to open the way for you all!”
[Lara V] (Floor 10): “Hi! I am Elena. Hang in there, it is hard but doable!”
[Tank Buster] (Floor 10): “Marcus reporting. We are the strongest!”
I roll my eyes. “Great. He’s the kind of guy who thinks he’s the main protagonist of a novel. Pure ‘Main Character Syndrome’. The cliché paladin with his two sidekicks.”
This Arthur guy speaks again, clearly very proud of his audience of five billion people.
[Hero of the Sun]: “Listen well! To help humanity survive and join us, I am going to give you the solutions for the floors we have crossed!”
[Hero of the Sun]: “Floor 2 (The Grass): Do not run! Walk slowly or burn the vegetation!”
[Hero of the Sun]: “Floor 3 (The Dark): Do not be afraid, it is psychological. Walk straight ahead.”
[Hero of the Sun]: “Floor 4 (The Ocean): Let yourselves be eaten by the whale, it is the exit!”
[Hero of the Sun]: “And now, what awaits you… Floor 5!”
I sit up, attentive. Free info on the Boss is not something I’ll turn down.
[Hero of the Sun]: “Floor 5 is a Great Labyrinth. The goal is to find the Boss room. This is brand new, the Boss is terrifying. Prepare yourselves to fight a M…”
The text stops dead. Suddenly, vivid blood-red writing crushes the hero’s message, making it disappear.
[SYSTEM INTERVENTION] [Alert]: Violation of Rule 404 - Disclosure of Future Content
[Announcement]: The goal of the Tower is Adaptation, not Copying. It is strictly forbidden to disclose secrets, mechanics, or the identity of Guardians of floors not yet reached by the majority.
An ice-cold silence seems to fall on the chat, even though nobody can speak.
[Sanction]: The Group ‘The Awakened’ is struck with [Silence]. Duration: 5 Days.
[Final Warning]: Any further attempt to spoil or cheat information on an active floor will lead to Immediate Banishment from the Tower. (Note: Banishment is equivalent to Instant Death). Good luck to all.
The chat window closes abruptly. I look at Chris and Kim, stunned.
“Okay,” I whistle. “The System doesn’t joke with spoilers. We won’t know what the ‘M…’ is.”
I stand up and pick up my shovel. “Minotaur? Mummy? Giant Mandrake? We’ll see. In any case, the ‘Hero’ just got muted for five days. It gives us a vacation. Let’s head for the Labyrinth.”