F***ing Ones Self, Right in the Leg

Chapter 9

With Elim gone, I was able to work without distraction. Step one of that was devising an actual workflow rather than just bouncing around from task to task. I decided to devote fifty of my mana to the interior and exterior expansion. Twenty of the remaining mana I used for crafting and upgrades. The remaining thirty were reserved for emergencies and potions.

Though I'd set up specific allocations, I didn’t let any leftovers go to waste. I held off on spending them until the last few minutes before the reset. That way I wouldn't be out of luck if an emergency cropped up or someone needed a potion.

A decision that proved useful all too quickly. A few hours after Elim left, they began cropping up with almost alarming frequency. There were also names I didn’t expect to see, since Elim had only indicated that he had two family members.

Thinking about it I realized that I hadn’t asked him about his family in detail. His wife being deceased had put me off the idea. A mistake on my part, but the majority of the potions weren’t expensive, so I didn’t mind. One recurring one, however, gave me pause.

It was ten points and showed up daily. Checking I found it was a purging draught. A potion type that was used to rid the body of poisons including heavy metals. It was going to someone named Irene. I decided to write to Elim to clear the matter up on the second day.

Elim,

I’ve been getting a high-level potion request daily for someone named Irene. When you get back to your family, check on her please, I’m concerned. Also, your relatives Gordon, James, and Surry appear to be getting into scrapes. It’s nothing too serious, but it wouldn't hurt to check on them too.

-42

Once I sent it, I didn’t have long to wait for a reply.

Mistress 42,

I’m not aware of any of the people you mentioned being relations of mine. I’ll discuss the matter with my Mother. Perhaps they are distant ones I was unaware of.

Your Servant,

Elim

The mystery had only deepened but by the fifth day when the request for the purgative ceased to appear. A development I found alarming. If one didn’t work and they’d gone so far as to use four then something must have been terribly wrong. It made me pessimistic about the possibility that it had succeeded, and I felt she had likely died.

I hoped I was wrong, but I didn’t have a way to check. I couldn’t send Irene a friend request or message despite trying. It seemed that normal humans didn’t have access to that system function.

Elim would have to figure out who she was and what became of her if he could. Hunting down lost relatives to satisfy my curiosity wasn’t something I could justify. If he couldn’t figure out who she was easily, the matter would have to be dropped. Frustrated I checked the employment settings.

I hoped it would let me see the people who were covered by the health care benefit and was rewarded.

Elims direct family formed a tree. His mother, Erica, was linked to a greyed-out box that read (Deceased) and had to represent his father. Their boxes were connected by a line and down from the center of that line a new one descended to connect them to Elim. Elim was connected to his wife June, (Deceased), with Bessy under them as their child. A very neat little family tree.

Selecting June turned up nothing, her family tree all read as deceased. Erica gave a similar result and selecting the unnamed box just gave an error tone. I couldn’t figure out why and looking in the manual didn’t yield an answer which only added to my frustration. That left the mysterious second family tree unconnected to the first. Looking at the tree’s I couldn’t decipher anything useful and decided to give up on the matter. Either Elim’s mother would be able to fill in the blank or I’d have to let it go.

Erica. I hadn’t known Elim’s mother's name before but now that I did, I realized that I hadn’t received a pop up for her. Selecting her name again I spotted some dots in the corner. Selecting them gave me access to a small menu of options. I chose to check her status and found two troubling things.

Name: Erica

Age: 36

Ailment: Chronic Condition, Unknown

Condition: Poor

Potion Status: Manual

I checked the other recipients and found their potions status was automatic. I couldn't understand why at first then remembered my deal with Elim. I'd given him potions for her myself and it seemed that had resulted in hers being set to manual.

I felt like an idiot and went to change it, then reconsidered. I hadn’t thought about it but suddenly being offered potions by a mysterious source might not be taken well. I wrote to Elim a second time instead.

Elim,

I realized I made an error. Your mother isn’t getting automatic service from the potions system because of our deal. Should I change it so she’ll have them offered to her, or would it be better to let you explain it to her first?

I sent the text and wondered how I could have fucked up so thoroughly. What I had tried to implement was simple in concept. I didn’t need much reflection to realize that it was a combination of inexperience and going too quickly.

If I’d thought it through better, I’d have asked more questions first. That would have let me know to place more restrictions. I didn't credit myself with the forethought to come up with ‘known family only’. A contract lawyer I was not.

With a sigh, I made a mental note to bring up the changes when the contract came up for negotiation. I decided to spend some time looking it over again to try and find problems. Elim wrote me back within the hour, while I was still going over the contract to check for more errors.

Mistress 42,

I think that if her condition does not worsen, then it would be best if I explained the matter. She might well take the offers as sudden demonic temptations otherwise. My thanks for your consideration.

Your Servant,

Elim

Sudden demonic temptations. I laughed, thinking she’d only be half wrong. With the matter as settled as could be for the moment, I brushed off my unhappy mood and contract worries. It was time to get back to work.

Buying tiles and plots was fine but I’d been building without a solid concept in mind. That led to a lot of waste and needed to change. I also needed to start organizing my thoughts more efficiently.

Off to the side of the employee lounge, I built a high-ceilinged room to function as my office. 'Office' was a boring and un-dungeon-like name. After some thought, I decided to call it the ‘Chamber of Machinations’.

I carved the title into the stone above the entrance with the sculpting tools from the visual editor. Switching tools, I plotted out my current design on the wall with chalk. It was one of the mediums freely available within the editor itself. I could have chosen to carve or paint it but there was something satisfying about the feeling of chalk on stone.

I paused and switched out tools before hovering over to a different wall. I’d been coming up with my own terms for a while but wasn’t writing them down anywhere. That was a great way to forget or mix them up accidentally and be unable to explain anything to others coherently. A concern that was less about practicality and more about precision. If I couldn’t explain it to someone else, then I wasn’t being efficient with my process.

Layer

A single plane in the dungeon may include multiple connected or disconnected areas

Stack

A collection of layers composed of grind-

I paused, unhappy with the term ‘grinding layers’. I knew what it meant, but it was from my world and game jargon. No one from this world would look at it and be able to guess what it meant. Not without some pretty specific context clues.

Layer

A single plane in the dungeon may include multiple connected or disconnected areas

Stack

A collection of layers composed of combat layers, a boss room, and a safe zone.

I almost described the boss room and safe zone as their own layers. In the end, I decided to keep them as separate objects since they could be nested into other layers.

Layer

A single plane in the dungeon may include multiple connected or disconnected areas

Stack

A collection of layers composed of combat layers, a boss room, and a safe zone.

Combat Layer

A layer designed to challenge adventures with puzzles, traps, and monsters.

Boss Room

The area in which a boss confrontation occurs. It should be defined by an entrance of some kind.

Safe Zone

An area that is free of monsters and traps that allows adventurers to rest. May or may not feature an exit portal.

With the basic terms defined, I used enamel to color them in, so I’d be able to read them easily. On a second review, I also designed symbols for them. It would save time when I was drawing diagrams. That led me to add symbol only entries for traps, puzzles, and terrain barriers. With that finished it was time to get back to plotting the design out.

There wasn’t much to draw, so it didn't take me long to spot a problem. The design was fine in theory. My initial concern had been deciding how stacks would work rather than how they would change. Looking at it I realized that I’d ended up making a flat ratio of level increases in the combat layers of the stacks.

That was something that looked fine on a graph but wouldn’t make an interesting experience. It also violated the rule of three. Any pattern, whatever you were doing, had to pay off by the third iteration or change.

I left the original design up and started over by creating three blocks next to it. I divided the blocks into three again and colored them with gradations of color. Green for the topmost and safest zone. Yellow for the more difficult middle section. And finally, red for the most dangerous. I chose red but only used a middle tint of pink for the darkest section for ease of reading.

My existing set up for the first three stacks without the boss room and the safe zone was three, three, four. A simple pattern that would work for the initial tutorial area. Repeating it was out of the question, however. I spent an hour wracking my brain for something better. An hour in which I couldn’t come up with anything as the wall started to fill with various failed plans.

I could have erased them, but I left them up as a visual reminder of what I’d already tried. Failure was an important but harsh learning. One I couldn't avoid for the sake of my pride since I was dealing with life and death stakes.

Looking at all of the designs they all represented flat progressions and I knew they’d be too easy. Seeing the problem was an important first step. The second step, fixing it, was the hard part.

I got to work but nothing came to me as I tried different combinations and layouts.

When I hit the fourth-hour mark, I felt eyes on me and turned to find the hounds peeking in. I wondered how long they’d been waiting for me to notice them.

“Mistress?” Stalin called out. I'd left an open entryway so could come in and out as they liked but had neglected to tell them that. I almost invited them in but stopped myself. Personal space wasn’t a bad thing. If everything was communal then we’d all start feeling tired of each other eventually.

“I’m coming out,” I said, giving them both a good scratch when I did.

“Do you guys normally sleep in a den or something in the wild? I was thinking this place needed some more comfortable features," I asked. Blackmore immediately sat up, tail wagging happily. Stalin just leaned against me to extort more scratches.

“We do! Caves in the lava fields.” Blackmore said and I opened my building map and set it to share mode. I added a den and some uneven terrain for them to play on based on their recommendation. Creating the den was the most finicky part of the process. Both hounds inspected it multiple times and gave piles of design notes. Ones that often conflicted.

"I could just build two,” I said after trying to balance their very different needs. They looked at each other then back to me.

“We’re a pack,” they said together, refusing my offer.

“Why don’t you go in together and discuss things then,” I offered, wanting them to get on the same page. They looked at each other again for a long moment then turned and raced to the den. Not far from it I could hear them argue and growl at each other. I ignored that they sounded like they were murdering each other when they played. I did increase the interior space by ten percent when I heard barking.

I took the time to have a little fun with the areas around the den. I considered my options then decided to use a children’s playsets as a guide. With that in mind, I created tunnels and small caves with the occasional open lookout point. I had half an hour to play around with the design before the pair returned and gave me their final evaluations.

I made the entrance smaller so that it was easy to guard, by Stalin's request. Blackmore wanted something a bit more complicated. I created a second entrance and had it lead to a hidden path behind the den with an outlet near the back of the boss room. After that, I created what amounted to a second chamber. I gave it the same small entrance as the original one.

Blackmore checked several times before she was satisfied. Once she decided it passed, she howled and ran to me. To show her gratitude she jumped up and licked my face.

“Hey now!” I protested but didn’t push her off. “I added some extra-”

“Tunnels!” Blackmore shouted then went running off to explore.

“Thank you, Mistress,” Stalin said solemnly while Blackmore darted off to explore.

“No problem… her requests were pretty specific. What’s with the guest den?” I asked, wiping my face and feeling flakes of hardening stone fly off rather than liquid saliva.

“Guest den? Oh, no, that’s-” Stalin hesitated, looking back toward Blackmore “dens with separate areas for whelping are preferred. It keeps pups from getting underfoot.”

I took in the information then looked toward Blackmore. She was a girl, he was a boy, and I was pretty certain spaying or neutering fire elemental hounds wasn’t a thing. I felt something drop inside me as I thought about how my little ‘employee lounge’ was still in the boss room. That was going to change, once I got a few other to-do’s sorted out.

“If you guys can, and want to, then we'll need to create a larger area for you and any pups first,” I said and Stalin sat up at full attention.

“You’ll permit it?” he asked, sounding astonished.

“After some renovations, if you both consent, yes. I’m your boss not-” Stalin started licking me furiously and yapping happily.

“Thank you Mistress!” he kept shouting and I realized that I’d permitted him to get laid. It was an awkward thought, but I laughed and eventually got him calmed down.

“You can just call me 42,” I said, used to being called Mistress but not enjoying it. I had been called by my name before if my discomfort with titles was anything to go by.

“Is that your name?” He asked and I felt my orbs flicker in surprise. They’d heard my discussion with Elim, and I’d mentioned it to them before.

“Yeah?” I said, not sure how to respond to his question.

“Strange, you still appear as ‘name pending’ to me,” He replied. It was then that I realized he was looking above my head. Like in a game that was where a name tag appeared when I looked at other beings. I hadn’t considered that I had one from their perspective as well.

“Weird,” I muttered and opened my information tab. The blank space next to my name field was right where I’d left it. I sighed, wondering why such an adaptable system would need me to input something so basic. Without further ado, I selected the field and was allowed to enter my new name.

I used numerals rather than letters and was quite pleased. 42, it was mine officially. My pleasure turned to alarm as the tinkle of tone chimes resound all around me.

Congratulations! You’ve completed your final integration task!

A banner declared, hanging mid-air as sparkler sized fireworks went off around it. From the top of the tunnels, Blackmore popped her head out to howl excitedly.

“Congratulations Mistress 42,” Stalin said, licking my face. Blackmore came running toward us and together they started running in excited circles around me. I laughed and pet them both again, though not for as long as they would have wanted. I’d have been at it until the heat death of the universe going by their enthusiasm if I had.

Once the excitement died down, I needed some personal space and retired to my office. I decided to add a stone door for a bit of privacy. A good idea that went awry almost immediately. Since I didn't feel it I'd forgotten about the heat and the door was quickly glowing red. Getting rid of the superheated slab I replaced it with one enchanted with heat resistance.

Alone in the room, I felt a bit cut off and added windows that looked out at the lava pool. Blackmore immediately ran up to press her face against one and lick the enchanted glass. Laughing, I realized that the room was insulated from sound since I couldn't hear her bark. Using my visual editor, I added a door knocker at hound-height to the outside.

Feeling confident they could knock if something came up, I let myself relax. I opened my friend's list, I’d decided to send off a pair of texts to Agony and Steve.

Hi,

I made my name official today!

-42

I was a little too excited to write anything eloquent, so I settled for short and sweet. They both wrote back.

Sweet!

I’ll visit once newbie season’s over. Sorry for not replying sooner to the invite, been swamped with idiots.

-Agony

I was as happy for the promise of the visit as the congratulations. The photo he sent of himself giving a double thumbs-up was a bow on top. Steve responded almost as quickly.

Congratulations 42,

You certainly found the correct question for your answer. I hope things are still going well with setting up your dungeon.

-Steve

P.S

I’ve attached something to commemorate the event.

His present was a six-pack of cola in various flavors that changed whenever I wasn’t looking. I made a niche for them in my office so they would stay cool.

Taking some time to decompress I enjoyed sixteen flavors of soda as I drank. To my surprise, they also changed carbonation levels and temperature without warning. It was an experience, to say the least. Once I was done, I put the empty back in the niche with the full ones and stretched. The sodas were a nice gesture, but what I appreciated most was how he’d shown he got the joke.

Making my name official hadn’t given me any sort of new ability that I could see, but I felt like something had clicked. The feeling that I needed a name was completely gone.

All in all, life felt good. A feeling that lasted all of two hours and left me feeling empty without it as I returned to work. Still, in the chamber of machinations, I stared at my failed models of the dungeon. I alternated between studying them and plotting possible mechanics off to the side. I could have killed some time by decorating but held off.

That was something to worry about once I had a set of stacks complete, not before. I had seventeen layers and a fair amount of the exterior purchased. Until I made up my mind about how many layers would go in the green zone, I needed to be patient. Staying still wasn’t productive past a certain point, however.

Since I didn’t need to do anything mentally taxing, I kept building while I returned to exploring. At night I’d descend into the mountain’s caves and tunnels. During the day I’d go outside and roam, excited to find that it was possible.

Choosing daylight might have seemed, and certainly felt, counterintuitive. It had taken some convincing from Stalin and Blackmore to get me to try it. Their firm insistence that I stood out more because of my eyes in the dark eventually winning me over.

I had surveyed the area before planting my core but that hadn’t been a detailed examination. I made certain not to stray too far from my dungeon but was happy to repopulate my map. The information I was getting from the Savex Soldiers was useful but incomplete. They stayed on established routes and didn’t wander around just to fill in map blanks.

It was useful to know how the labyrinth of stone that guarded the valley was set up. If all went well it would soon be part of my territory proper. I was holding off until I purchased the entire valley, but I had a plan for it. I wanted to design a ruin with my dungeon at the heart in a similar vein to Petra from my world. A grand edifice of stone to light a fire in the imagination and provide an area safe for normal people to visit.

At the end of my second week, as I was expanding the first twenty-two layers, I received a report from Elim.

Mistress 42,

I have returned to my village safely and given the potions to my mother. It seems her condition was a result of a problem with her organs, though she's unsure if it was inborn or not. She is recovering well and thankful to you.

I want to add that the funds you have given me helped pay the debts my family accrued during my absence. I am truly grateful for the generous salary you have provided me.

I discussed the matter of our relatives with her once she was healed. She said she would like to explain the matter to you personally. As such I have attached a letter she wrote. I find this turn of events strange, but I will wait for her to explain it to me herself. I hope the contents resolve the mystery.

Since all is well with them now, I will rest for a day then continue to the garrison to buy my liberty. I plan to use the horses I found in the valley as payment. They will arouse less suspicion than my suddenly acquiring a large sum.

Your grateful servant,

Elim

I was relieved that he’d made it safely home and accepted the letter. When I opened it, the first thing that stood out was how lovely his mother’s handwriting was. My own tilted between an art project and chicken scratch. Hers flowed smoothly, forming elegant letters for the length of the page.

Dear Lady 42,

I cannot express my gratitude sufficiently. I may only pray that one day I might be allowed to repay you even a tenth of your generosity.

Even so, I hesitate to answer the question my son asked on your behalf. Forgive me for this, but it’s part and parcel with an old wound I did not wish to look on let alone reopen. Even so, I cannot justify denying you an answer and can only beg that you do not share it with my son.

My father, Bernard Silverleaf, was Baronet of Crestfeild. He lived for his ambitions and by the time I was fifteen they had become greater than his station. He devised a scheme to entrap the fifth son of Earl Savex, Linden, into a marriage with me. To this end, he drugged us and locked us in a room. He would have succeeded in his ploy, if not his goal, were it not for the intervention of one of his knights.

That knight, Castor Grey, is the man Elim knows as his father. He freed me and took responsibility for me and my resulting pregnancy. My father believed this to be a betrayal and that we had been conspiring behind his back. Until that time Castor was just one of many knights in my father's service. We were not lovers or even close at the time.

What we both understood was that trespassing against those of higher rank was to court death. I did not then, nor now, know Liden Savex well. What I did know was that he was set to marry a Marquise's daughter. Linden or his father would have rightly been furious to find a mere Baronet pressing a claim.

That is to say nothing of the intended bride and her family, who were descended from royalty. Lesser houses have been razed and their lands salted for less.

Worse, Linden's marriage has produced no heirs. A fact which places Elim in a position to inherit should his father die. As such, fear of retaliation has kept me silent. I intend to take this secret to my grave.

That is the whole of the matter regarding our family. I beg you once more to keep this information from my son.

As for the names you have mentioned, Gordon is the name of Earl Savex. James Savex is his second-born son, Surry is James bride, and both are with Earl Savex at the border. It is possible that they have come under attack or suffered an accident.

Irene is a name I have not heard for some time. She is Earl Savex’s granddaughter by his deceased eldest son Corvin. She has been sickly since birth, and to my knowledge, had died several years ago. Information I now see was just malicious gossip.

Thank you once more for everything you have done,

Erica

I read the letter twice to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood anything. The language referring to Linden implied he was alive. Going back into the interface I found that next to Erica’s name that the rectangle was no longer grey. Castor Grey occupied it.

A dozen reasons why Erica was so certain of Linden being the father flared and fizzled in my mind. None of them mattered. What did matter was refining a clean piece of parchment and ink for myself quickly. I impatiently replicated as many pieces as I thought I'd need. In five minutes I had a piece of common E grade parchment and black ink.

Dear Erica,

Due to certain circumstances, I have been divining information about your family. Elim's lineage connects to the Savex family tree but not by way of Linden Savex. His father is Castor Grey, whose great grandfather was Maron Savex. Maron was the brother of the Earls great grandfather and did not inherit the family title.

I don't know if the Savex family is aware of the connection. Maron sired the line by way of Tommen Grey's daughter, Eugen, and there is no sign of marriage. Both parties may have kept the matter secret to preserve honor.

I understand if this is difficult to believe and apologies if you find it distressing. I will not speak of any of this to Elim out of respect for your wishes and his. When passing along your letter, he asked me to allow you to tell him about its contents in your own time.

-42

Maron Savex, according to the tree, had fathered enough children on the side to crew a yacht. Good news for me, terrible for the families; only Castor’s line had survived. I would have needed a hell of a lot more mana to buy potions with were the situation otherwise.

“You go, unchecked altruism, best decision ever,” I muttered to myself. I wasn’t used to having power with any sort of far-reaching consequences and felt shaken by what I’d done. Going from the limitations of a non-magical world to one with it and the System was an adjustment. One that I wasn’t doing so hot with.

What I was trying to do with Elim to cure Bloody Mana Fever was simple in comparison. Particularly since the consequences weren’t personal. Even if it went completely wrong or failed, I wouldn’t have to experience the fallout in person. I could have been receiving a hundred plus requests if more had survived. Requests I’d have had to balance against my interests and resources.

The morality of refusing and potentially killing a stranger would only have been half of it. I’d have been in a place where I was weighing their lives against each other to see who I’d select for consideration. I was left feeling like I was going to throw up despite not being able to do so physically.

I didn’t want that kind of responsibility. I’d chosen to become a dungeon because I didn’t want to be so directly responsible for people’s lives. I wouldn’t be any less a murderer than a demon lord, but there was less culpability. Adventurers had to come to find me and choose to enter.

“I’m such a shit-heel,” I said and sighed. It was a weak mentality. I wasn’t less responsible, pretending had only made me feel better. It was like when I sent Stalin and Blackmore to kill the bandits. I hadn’t felt bad because they were all clearly labeled as evil, despite my knowing nothing about them.

“Fuck!” I shouted, scrubbing messy swaths of chalk away at random. I already understood what I needed to do and how to go about it. Opening my editor, I got my chalk out again and drew a new diagram. It was like the previous one, but I didn’t leave the stacks undivided this time.

The green section went three, three, four for combat layers before the boss room. The yellow section five, six, eight to break up expectations and keep with the rule of three. The red zones went six, seven, ten, deviating even more wildly from the prior zone. It wasn’t enough, and I drew a line through the third safe zone in the yellow stacks. From that point forward there would be no teleportation short-cut to the surface. Parties would either battle their way back up or continue the descent.

It was vicious, yet still too soft-handed. Resting, then going back the way they came through a level they’d already surpassed wouldn’t be a challenge. Feeling sick, I drew a door symbol that only went one way for the entrance to the last yellow safe zone. Once they entered it, they would have to be trapped.

Leaving no way out wouldn’t work however. It would trigger an inaccessible warning and the dungeon would close. The final red stack’s safe zone would have to work. Once they began, they would have to finish, only able to escape at the end.

Wanting to get the process over with, I started numbering the levels, so I’d have an accurate count of the total I’d need. My hand stopped when I came to the final yellow block’s safe zone, where I’d placed my trap. It was level forty-two, and the chalk dropped from my hand.