After being rewarded by the system, I shoved out the last cart of “Honey, I shrunk the drinks” and doubled back to pick up the new, aggressively supersized meals. As the smell of fruit and garlic filled the entire room.
I also had to rethink the ever-shrinking cart space, without the need to employ horses and a medieval tank. Could always make people come to the counter—cantina style.
But the thought was quickly washed away, as the group started to slow down. Slurred brags of conquest and how the dungeon was “piss-easy”, if you fought in a large enough group.
Brute force and numbers over individual skill I guess.
“Master Greg, you have… really outdone yourself.” Gumlick slurred, as the remaining bits of pepperoni were exchanged in a non-traditional manner. The result of which made me gag, while trying to maintain the intense eye-contact he was giving me.
“How come… your place is so empty, you should be running the Inns in town—out of business.”
“Still starting out, and I also lack the proper promotion, umm… word of mouth I mean.” Realising that most of the orcs were either passed out or laughing at each other like hyenas. With only Gumlick and Bowlin seeming to be the only 2 left that were holding their liquor and manage to still speak, somewhat.
A sudden idea hit me. What better time to gather intel than from intoxicated orcs with the obvious trait of loose lips. “Say, Gumlick. How do Safezones work inside this dungeon… or any dungeon for that matter?”
The orc paused, his face and eyes scrunching together, trying to see me better perhaps. “Umm, shouldn’t you already know that? You run one after all.” Then continued to scratch the back of his head, seeing the loose flakes of dead skin collect beneath his already grimy nails.
“You have done good today, so I will humour you. What exactly is it, that you’re unsure of?”
Besides the fact that the word “safe” in Safezone was optional? “For starters, why are they called Safezones, if anyone could attack and kill you in here.”
Gumlick frowned. “Greg, they only stop monsters from entering, that’s what makes them safe.”
I was passively trying to clean and collect empty glasses from vomit covered orcs, while attempting to extract further knowledge.
“Who runs the other zones?”
“Pfft, there are no other zones like this. Sure, there are rooms that provide a break and won’t let monsters pass through.” He paused to give me a smack on the back, testing my ribcage for weaknesses no doubt, then continued laughing. “You’re the only Safezone we’ve heard of that actually works in the capacity of, well… a Tavern.”
I’m the only one? I packed the last remaining glass and platter on my cart and decided to leave. The floor could be cleaned once it hadn’t been littered with unconscious giants.
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“Before you go master Greg, may I ask a question?”
“Sure thing.”
“Why are you here on your own? No offence, but if we were otherwise inclined, we could have just robbed you and taken the spoils without paying. After all, there are no rules or laws within the dungeon.” His face began to soften, as I stopped halfway across the dining room. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, aren’t you afraid you will run into the wrong crowd at some point?”
A bit late for that sentiment Gumlick…
I tried to retort, but nothing came to mind. The system made it out like I was a mere cog in the machine. Just another Safezone providing a service to weary adventurers. I was wrong.
When I got back to the kitchen / my office, I simply tossed the cart into the corner and plopped onto the cold tiles. My hands were now letting go of the pent up rage and I was violently shaking beneath my counter—out of sight.
“System! You opened a portal into my house and forgot to mention that the people I’m meant to help, not only have the ability, but the right to fuck my shit up as they please!” Forcing the words out through gritted teeth. “Nothing to say? How about I just cut my losses and just give up on this damn house. Living on the street beats being gutted every time that door decides to open.”
Silence.
My mind was racing, trying to come up with ways to keep going, while the other half was finding ways to move on from this nightmare.
*Ding*
[Update}
[Operator has made a valid point and is given an opportunity]
[Accept?]
Vague… classic. “How about you tell me the opportunity, before roping me into another scheme of yours.” Spitting the words out with more gusto than intended, hoping my voice wasn’t traveling beyond the countertop.
[Invalid Input]
[Accept?]
“Sure, what else could you possibly do that could make matters worse.”
*Ding*
[Acknowledged]
[You are now given the choice of two paths]
My mind already constructing possible worst case scenarios.
[Path 1: You are provided the option combat skills, but at great financial expense]
[Path 2: You are given the option to recruit anyone from within the dungeon, but they have to sign a form]
“Ok I’ll bite, what kind of form?”
[…]
Silence.
[Employment Form]
“What? Like paying into their retirement fund and all that jazz?” The system was clearly taking me for a run, so I confirmed it—just to be sure.
“How is this path even a viable option? I could’ve just hired brute force, like I had hired Lomber. What’s the added benefit?”
[Level Progression]
[You will be able to advance them in all manner of ways, as long as you pay]
So in other words, if I had the funds and the manpower, I could effectively recruit a small army.
[You will also have access to their locations]
[You will be able to advance these Paths through your Currency Progression System]
[Note: This is the only Skill/Path that can be levelled this way]
My frown and narrowed eyes started to soften, as though I’ve just been given a fresh set of gloves and a quiet pep talk from my trainer. Back into the ring it is…
