I moved to the deity tab, cycled over to the messages, and sent a note.
Carl: Emberus, I know who killed your son. Agree to meet me, and I will show you the proof. I will meet you in about thirty seconds. Let me get there first.
Emberus: Where? Tell me now. I am coming.
I jumped to the blood-slicked ground and pulled open the back of the truck to find a scene of chaos. A sluggalo was on fire, screaming, spinning in circles, while Penny the pig ate a fully cooked chicken sandwich, grunting contentedly on the floor.
The pig was already wearing the front part of the harness. All I had to do was slip my arms through it.
I examined her.
Penelope 3. Crawler #12,953,454.
Level 10.
Race: Yorkshire Pig.
Class: Not yet assigned.
We’d fed her the enriched pet biscuit. The Nothing Special Party Companion one. This was the one that turned her into a sapient party member, but it didn’t give her the ability to talk out loud.
That didn’t stop her from using chat, which she’d just discovered.
According to Mordecai, she also likely had a flashing notification that told her to make her way to any safe room, where she would be assigned a temporary late-dungeon game guide. And since Mordecai had been my game guide and because she was automatically in a party with me because I was the one who fed her the biscuit, he would be the one assigned to her. Once she actually got herself to a safe room, she could pick a class and change her race if she wanted.
I had blown up entire settlements, killed thousands of NPCs by this point. I’d killed my friends Jasha and Radoslav. The whole Growler Gary thing. Yet somehow, this simple act of taking a regular animal, a pig, and dragging her into sapience seemed a step too far, like I’d crossed a line I’d never known was there.
Especially since I was planning on using this poor woman as bait.
I kept thinking of the very first boss we’d fought. The Hoarder. Nothing more than a sad woman who hadn’t asked for any of this. This was the same in so many ways.
Yet I did it anyway. We were fighting for our lives, and this poor pig would be dead by now if I hadn’t intervened. Plus, how many sausage sandwiches had I eaten since I entered the dungeon?
Carl: Sorry, Penny. I’m not really going to hurt you, okay? This is all for show. Please quit struggling.
Penny: WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHAT IS HAPPENING? GIVE ME ANOTHER CHIK-CHIK SAMMICH.
“Bigs,” I called as I put my arms into the harness, “get to the RV!”
I groaned, pulling myself up straight.
I stepped out, now wearing the enormous struggling pig against my chest. This was the special backpack I’d received at the beginning of thetenth floor, designed to let me use my movement spells and bring a quadruped with me. It was meant for Donut, and Mordecai had modified it to fit the giant pig, whose legs waved in the air. She let out a panicked squeal.
Even at my strength, I struggled. This wasnotcomfortable.
I took a beaker of splooge, and I poured it down the throat of the spluttering Penelope. The pig calmed down.
Penny: OKAY, THAT’S A DELIGHT. MORE PLEASE. IT SAYS IT’S CALLED SPLOOGE. GIVE ME MORE SPLOOGE. I CRAVE SPLOOGE.
I drank some more myself, choking it down.
Carl: Emberus, meet me in Club Scolopendra.
I pulled my father’s gun from my inventory, and I put it against the pig’s head.
Above, lightning crashed.
“Taranis,” I yelled as I turned toward Scolopendra. I started running toward the giant centipede as it continued to twirl around the shattering tree. “If you don’t want me to shoot this fucking pig in the fucking head, show yourself!”