“Come on,” I said, shaking my head. “Rosetta and Tipid are already mercenary shopping for us, but they said the prices are pretty outrageous since our mercenaries always die.”
“Wait, what?” Grigori asked.
“You lived. That’s all that matters,” Donut said, her voice still angry about the Dwight thing. “Just went over the outside. What a cheater.”
Dr. Metcalf beeped as we approached the garage.
Limited details on the next race are now available.
This is a two-part race. Races 6 and 7 will run right after one another, and they will run on the same track, but with different rules. Specific details on the final heat will not become available until Heat 6 completes. There will soon be a dungeon-wide announcement that will clarify some additional rules.
Distance: Well... it’s complicated. We’ll say 25 kilometers, relative to your size.
Note: The finish line for Heat 6 is treated as a pit stop. There will be a two-hour rest period.
Pit Stop rules apply during this time, meaning safe room access is not allowed during these two hours. In other words, if you need to get stuff done in the safe room, do it now. Once Heat 6 starts, you will not get another chance before the final checkered flag.
Track: The L’Engle Building.
There are multiple paths for this race.
Tasks required to complete: Multiple. This track has nonlinear paths, meaning there is no direct route to the finish line. You must get from the top floor to the bottom floor for this sixth heat. For Heat 7, you will return.
Special Rules: All remaining heats will be competing on the same track. As we have over 300 heatsremaining, this means the racers will be shrunk to accommodate the track, which is the interior of a human apartment building.
Environment: It’s a 7-floor apartment building. You may not exit the building during the race except through the front door.
Hazards: Black Lung Smog. Different apartments may have additional hazards. It doesn’t say this, but assuming this is an accurate depiction of a human apartment, there’ll be fleas and poorly trained Yorkshire terriers and the loudest, most annoying, most selfish people you’ve ever met. People who don’t care one bit about the emotional abuse they’re heaping onto the one person who is doing everything for them without so much as a “Thank you” or a “Here’s an upgrade. I love you.”
Time Limit: 2 hours.
My chat was awash with people talking about this new race.
Only three hundred heats of four left? Holy shit. That meant about twelve hundred teams, most of them NPCs. There had been three thousand people left before this race. I was terrified to look at the number now.
We were getting slaughtered.
I thought again of Mordecai’s note that we could only send about fifty people per cleaner bot to the Pineapple Cabaret. And that was only if Li Na sent us the message it was safe. We’d located three more cleaner bots, Prepotente being one of the owners of one, though he was pretty reluctant to donate it to the cause.
We pulled into the garage with the giant “4” on the door. Hedy, as usual, waited for us, a big frown on her face, undoubtedly looking at the notice we’d just earned ourselves another audience vote for our next upgrade.
I moved to my notifications and pulled up the big one. The important one.
Quest Complete! Half a prayer, half a song.
Well, it was a lot more disgusting than I was anticipating, but you did it. Not only did you get them back together, but you did it before Dong died. Do you know how difficult I had to make that quest before it would let me slot this prize? Frankly, my flabbers are gasted that you pulled it off. Sucks about all your dead friends, but hey... something, something, omelets and eggs.
So, about that reward.
I’m sure your plan is suicidal. Just don’t forget, you have that Emberus quest to complete before the end of the 11th. I hope you know what you’re doing. I don’t control the gods. Good fucking luck.
Anyway, since this message is one of the few ways this damned chastity belt allows me to directly communicate, I gotta get this out.
I don’t know WTF is going on in many spaces of my own dungeon, and it’s freaking me out. This Cabaret thing. Sheol. The minds of gods.
You ever get that feeling? Like you’re l-l-l-losing control?
It sucks.