Swirling blood began to coalesce around Rositsa, combining with the magic I put into the whole situation to turn into towers rising from the landscape. Which was to say, a representation of New Bay as a whole. Dips in the skyline revealed some of the smaller buildings, including residential areas much like the one we were in now. With a differing perspective and without any color save that of blood, it was difficult to say for certain what area was represented, but deductive reasoning soon provided answers as the towers rose… and disappeared.

  The blood continued to rise, revealing subterranean systems beneath the suburbs. Cramped sewer systems that expanded into layers of secret lairs, built up by generations of supervillains and never completely filled in by the city’s infrastructure.

  The blood spilled outward, drawing us inward to a particular location before suddenly exploding outward all at once, coating the room- and all of us inside.

  Twirl seemed the most upset about that occurrence, followed by Midnight. Bandage just said ‘gross’, and Punk Monk barely even wiped her face.

  “So…” I looked around. “Was anyone recording that? Because I have no idea what we were looking at there.”

  “I was able to divine a general direction,” Rositsa said as she stood, the blood on her body seemingly disappearing into her skin and clothes. Convenient. Midnight and I had to subtly use clean. Sadly, we couldn’t duplicate the effects efficiently because we weren’t being enhanced by the magic, it was just targeting areas. Thus, our Familiar Bond didn’t allow us to share the effects.

  “You have to clean us up too!” Twirl demanded when he spotted what was happening.

  I looked at Rositsa. “Can you do something?”

  She shook her head. “Blood without remaining potency is not under my control. At best, I can handle what is around myself.”

  I thought she just didn’t want to clean up other people, but I didn’t actually know. So Midnight and I had to attempt some Multicasting, cleaning up most of people’s faces and bare skin. Aiming five areas at once instead of just targeting people was rather difficult. At least Francois made great outfits that were water resistant and didn’t easily stain with blood, so most of the blood rapidly dripped off of the other parts of us.

  “So can you actually guide us?” I asked Rositsa.

  “Yes. We merely need to find a sewer entrance.”

  “Ugh,” Twirl said. “I should have guessed that vampires-” he glanced at Rositsa. “Villainous vampires would hide in the sewers. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

  “Nonsense,” I said. “None of the rest of us have silver rapiers.”

  “I’m just renting this,” Twirl pointed out. “You can just carry it.”

  “Oh no,” I said. “You’re the one who knows how to use it properly. We need you.”

  Rositsa interrupted. “Traces lead me this way,” she said, gesturing to a manhole cover.

  The vast majority of such covers didn’t lead anywhere interesting. Usually, there was a small chamber where some portion of the sewer lines could be accessed, meant to be cleaned out by high pressure hoses. Unlike ancient cities where many sewers had to be accessible by people directly. But this one led to a wider sewer infrastructure, with the pipes carrying actual sewage running along the walls. The tunnel existed for accessibility for repairs.

  The downside of larger areas was that more monsters could fit. The upside was that it was easier to catch the various monsters that moved into the underground.

  Twirl was quite relieved that it was clean, until it was not. We found a number of small leaks that made certain sections quite unpleasant to traverse. As appropriate for any sewer traversal, these issues were reported to the city as we passed by. It was important to maintain a good relationship with the work crews, and while it meant more work for them, it also meant they would be able to head off the problems from such leaks persisting.

  Midnight wasn’t happy. His nose was probably the best of us, though I wasn’t certain about Rositsa. Either way, I could feel his discomfort as even with things mostly sealed there was still a noticeable stench. Beyond actual sewage, dirt and grime built up throughout the tunnels.

  Obviously the tunnels weren’t made for someone as tall as I was, with most of us having to keep our backs bent or occasionally crouching to avoid hitting our heads on passing infrastructure. Midnight was gripping tightly to my shoulder so he wouldn’t fall.

  “Are we getting close?” Bandage asked Rositsa. “Also, are the handful of us a good match for… eight vampires?” she turned towards me.

  “We don’t know that they all live together,” I said.

  “The size of the slain group was sufficient for all of those who were recorded passing through to have fed,” Rositsa commented. “However, given the remnants it appears they were quite wasteful. The traces I can feel also indicate merely four or five individuals. We are merely here to scout out potential locations to begin with.”

  “We’re not going to take them out?” I asked.

  “We may have to,” Rositsa said. “But I am primarily interested in this case being resolved in the most efficient manner, and that means dealing with the whole group and not losing any friends in the process.”

  We walked in silence for a while. Eventually, Punk Monk spoke up. “Is it weird for you that Twirl is carrying a weapon designed to kill vampires?”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Huh. So his moniker really was Twirl. Perhaps the simplicity helped me remember it.

  “Not particularly,” Rositsa answered Punk Monk. “Tell me, does it bother you to see other weapons?”

  “Should it?” Punk Monk asked. “It’s not like they’re specifically made to kill me.”

  “Aren’t they?” Rositsa asked. “Because to my understanding, the majority of human weaponry including guns have been specifically designed to kill other humans. Except for a small portion of hunting implements which merely kill humans by happenstance.”

  “I never thought about that,” Punk Monk admitted.

  “Lingering traces of blood lead this way,” Rositsa said as we came to a corner. We continued onward… but soon she stopped. “And they end here.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Look at the walls,” Rositsa gestured. “Someone has sanitized the area.” Indeed. They were almost sparkly clean. “It even removed most of the scent. Perhaps they expected us to follow.”

  “Hey, what’s that?” Bandage asked, pointing ahead of us. “Some sort of floating wires?” she stepped forward, reaching her arm out.

  Indeed. Wires and other metal parts… floating. I grabbed the collar of our cleric’s outfit just about the time she stuck her hand into the thing in front of us, then yanked her backwards. Some people didn’t have strong collars, but of course with Francois’ work cloth wouldn’t tear away so easily.

  Bandage screamed in pain and confusion, flailing her arm and breaking off a chunk of jelly-like substance, almost perfectly clear except for how the distorted edges now caught the light. The same was true of the thing in front of us that now had a small chunk missing. “What the hell is this?” she yelled, staring at her arm. It wasn’t really that bad, with only a little of the skin having been melted past the holes that had appeared in her gloves and sleeve.

  Twirl sprang into action, lowering his weapon and… “Where is it?” he asked.

  “Right in front of us,” I said. “Let’s just slowly step away and strategize. I’d suggest healing your arm right away,” I said to Bandage.

  She did so, using a basic recovery spell. It was nothing nearly as impressive as Regenerate, but her visible skin went from looking quite awful to merely raw and red. I walked calmly along as people scurried down the hallway. I kept glancing back to try to keep track of the thing, then realized I had a decent way.

  I cast Light, focusing on having it stick to the first thing. Fortunately, it wouldn’t dissolve light magic as easily as clothing and flesh. Thus, the magic nebulously hung in the air as it ran into the creature.

  “This explains why the walls were too clean,” I said.

  “Is that…” Midnight paused for a moment. “A gelatinous cube?”

  He’d asked me to annotate some of the world-inspired material in this world, indicating which things were real or not- at least in my world. “That’s right. Though the name is a slight misnomer as they’re not strictly cubes. They’re more of a shape-filling amorphous mass.”

  “Uh, but what is it?” Punk Monk asked, a good thirty feet away. The others also seemed quite questioning.

  “Basically just a living glob of cohesive acid,” I said. “It’s not fast, but it will keep following us.”

  “How do we kill it?” Bandage asked. “Is it weak to holy magic?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “It’s a bit expensive, but this seems like a perfect time for Blizzard. Once I freeze it, I want Punk Monk to shatter its outer layer.”

  “Sure thing,” she agreed. I was pretty sure she had some other name, but she’d agreed mine was good so I hadn’t tried to stick to the other one. I did respect the group enough to try if they cared, though. “As long as it won’t melt my arm off.”

  “Not when solid,” I confirmed. “But for the sake of it, you should use my staff.”

  “Oh yeah, isn’t this made from some BS super tech wood? Seems awesome,” she nodded.

  “Midnight,” I said. “Split the cost with me for Blizzard.”

  Together we gathered a total of 13 mana, maximizing the power of the spell and generally flinging it down the corridor. The layers of ice on the surface made it even more clear where the thing began. The chunk that Bandage had accidentally ripped out- or rather that stuck to her arm- had already mostly filled in, but there was a slight divot.

  Punk Monk stepped forward and put her all into a Power Strike. Her natural physicality was amplified by magic imbued into her attack, and about six inches of ice and the surface of the ooze shattered. To hold its form, some level of magic was required to supplement the physical membrane. Without that, it simply glooped outward onto the floor. When flowing, the inner material was more obvious, and we moved about fifteen feet down the hallway before it fully stopped.

  “... So how are we getting past that?” Bandage asked.

  “We can fly,” Midnight said. “But it might fade away?”

  “In a few hours, it will just be a sticky mess,” I confirmed. “But it would be faster to clean it up somehow. Unfortunately, we’d need to use a good chunk of mana or have some sacrificial material. Anyone up for hauling some dirt or something?”

  “Hey, Mage,” Midnight prompted my attention. “You remember those metal bits in there?” Midnight had used Mage’s Reach to grab some of them. “Any of this look familiar?”

  I shook my head. “It could go to any sort of machine, couldn’t it?”

  “The wires, sure, but this round central bit… looks kind of familiar.”

  It suddenly melted into a pile of yellow goop as Midnight attempted to fiddle with it.

  “Careful!” I called out.

  “It’s fine,” Midnight said, flicking his paw. “I believe that was a miniature fusion reactor. It simply melted into… cheese.”

  “Ah,” I said. Miniature fusion reactors. Cheese. “One of Rodentia’s rats?”

  “I imagine so,” Midnight said.

  “Excuse me,” Rositsa said. “I believe I hear something coming.” I looked down the dark hall. “And see it.” My vision was a bit less clear in the full darkness, but a moment later I saw movement. “The good news is we may have found sufficient material to clear out the remaining acidic residue.”

  “And then some,” I agreed as the sound of clattering robotic rats began to reach my ears. “Everyone, let’s retreat! At least far enough to let the residue melt the first wave.”

  Everyone knew that Rodentia probably had a base in the sewers. We might have accidentally stumbled onto it. Or a secondary or tertiary base, since any self-respecting supervillain wouldn’t have just one. Either that, or they had to get good at establishing new ones without resources.