Max smiled, enjoying the feeling of energy and strength that came from absorbing XP. It was a bit like chugging a dozen energy drinks followed by dunking your head into a bucket of ice — an invigorating experience, but once it was over it left you feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Bits of shattered spider littered the crystalized wood of the dungeon floor. Max’s eyes immediately began scanning as he looked for intact eyes and limbs. He’d been through this floor nearly a dozen times and had never thought to keep any of the crystal remains.

He’d missed out on a fortune.

Max had originally told Eve to set the orb’s auto-loot feature to only alert him of items worth more than fifty dollars, it had seemed a reasonable amount that should limit the number of alerts he received. In the first room of the dungeon, after Max had watched Nina destroy an army of crystal arachnids in a dance of twirling steel and dazzling white, he had been flooded with alerts.

Nearly every crystal shard had been valuable enough to get his attention, thousands of them. Max had continuously raised the value at which he was alerted… two-hundred, five-hundred, and then a thousand dollars, but the alerts kept coming. Max’s inventory and pockets were now heavy with crystals that were each worth tens of thousands of dollars.

Nina had given him strange looks after every battle as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Max had just shrugged as he continued to loot the crystal corpses, occasionally changing out one crystal for one slightly larger.

“I have to ask,” Nina said. “What in name of the First Spear are you doing?”

“Getting rich!”

Max tossed a cracked eye behind his back as another took its place in his inventory. Max hadn’t felt this excited since the first time he had entered the dungeon — he had to hide his class out in the world, but money? He could have quit that data entry job weeks ago!

“How much,” Nina sighed, “is one of those crystals worth? Ten thousand? A hundred? I just gave you an SSD worth several million!”

“Wait, what?”

Max had known the bracelet was valuable, but the amount had seemed abstract. How could he ever sell something that he was given as a gift, no matter how much it was worth? The crystals, on the other hand, could be exchanged for hard currency — though Max would probably have to sell them through an intermediary to avoid questions.

“You’re right,” Max sighed. “It’s not like I’ll be able to sell them anyway.”

“Just stop, okay? We’re wasting time, weren’t you the one up at the ass crack of dawn whining about your precious Cathy?”

“It’s Samantha,” Max crossed his arms. “And she’s not precious, but I don’t want to see her in danger because of me either.”

“Look, Max, I get it. I’m sorry you got dragged into this, but we’re both in over our heads. I’ve got people I want to protect, as well.”

She ran her fingers over George’s sleeping head, smiling as she looked back at Max. He felt lost for a moment, staring into her eyes. Her face was pale and rather plain, but that smile and the way her eyes shone in the pale light …

“Let’s just forget it and move on, okay?” Nina said, tossing Max a small stone that glowed with faint, blue light.

“What’s this?”

“That,” Nina paused for effect, “is worth more than everything you’ve ever owned, ten times over. Consider it my way of saying thanks.”

Max frowned but nodded as he stored the item in his inventory. Every time he thought he was starting to like the girl she went and showed off her arrogance. She would smile and nod as if he should be grateful as she casually dismissed the value of everything he was or had ever done.

“Fine,” Max said. “Ole Splendy is close. We’ve only got a few more rooms. Some spiders and a couple spike traps — nothing I can’t handle.”

“Then lead the way.”

***

“Whew,” Gen whistled. “I never thought I’d see one of these.”

The scrawny man tossed the baseball-sized orb back and forth between scared and calloused hands. The weight of the object drew his arms down with each catch. The dungeon core was made from a material far heavier than any Gen had ever encountered.

As a Shadowblade class, he wasn’t physically strong, at least by classer standards. Gen’s talents laid elsewhere, but he could still rip the doors off a car. In fact, he’d done just that the other night when some nonclass garbage had tried to steal his cab. Gen’s fingers twitched at the thought of using his knives, but the Company had threatened him with reassignment after a string of … incidents.

This job was too cushy … and too fun, to give up that easily. What he wouldn’t give to have a poke at that icy bitch one of these days. He’d make sure she never talked down to him again, and then leave her a little extra to remember him by.

“It’s not a toy,” Cassandra said, snatching the orb mid-toss. “This core was taken from a dungeon captured by one of Lord Reech’s predecessors. He’s lent it to us, and expects professionalism and care.”

“Care?” Gen spat, “you could fire that thing out of a mag-cannon and not leave a scratch. You know what I think? I think you’re just looking for a reason to get me riled up. Maybe you were hoping for a little —"

“Enough,” said Slav, “Cassandra would rip you limb from limb, but I’m not going to let that happen. I’d much rather take out the trash myself, save her from dirtying her hands.”

“Gentlemen,” Cassandra said, “I appreciate the chivalry, but I don’t need anyone to fight my battles.”

Gen could see the cold, frosty blue of Casandra’s magic as it formed around his neck, raising him up until only his toes touched the ground. He lurched forward, hearing the squeal of his metal-tipped boots as they scratched the tile floor.

“This is my Quad, Gen,” Cassandra said. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No ma’am,” he said, never dropping his toothy grin. “But if you keep on pampering me like this I might just get the wrong idea. Seems like we could have a bit of fun if you’d …”

Gen’s heels struck the hard floor as a wave of force shoved him backward. Gen laughed, spinning with the blast, never so much as losing his balance before coming to a stop still facing the blonde Quad leader.

His fingers itched as he ran them over the cool metal of his knives, but he kept them holstered. He’d get plenty of that, but later. For now, he just had to play along, something about that bitch rubbed him the wrong way but she had a knack for pointing him towards carnage.

“Striker,” Cassandra yelled. “Check everyone for injuries, and stock supplies for an extended delve. We’ll be going into uncharted territory, and I have a feeling we’ll all be in need of your services sooner rather than later.

Gen frowned as he watched the silver-haired healer. Striker was a new addition to the Quad, but Gen had to admit he was talented. He’d even stitched up Gen a few times and had left his scars intact. Gen had gutted more than one field medic that gotten carried away using healing magic.

That wasn’t the problem. The man could stay, it was just … he was too pretty. That smooth skin could use a few new scars to add life to the empty canvas.

“I’m prepared,” Striker said, “I have an SSD loadout for an Elder Dungeon and field rations and mana gems to last weeks. I’m confident that we’re all ready for action … physically at least.”

“Good enough,” Cassandra said. “Gentlemen, this is the big one. You’re all company men, so there’s no ‘last big job,’ but you pull this off and you can write your own ticket. Fail … and we’ll all be lucky to be tongue cleaning Lord Reech’s privy.”

“Write my own ticket?” said Gen. “I’m already exactly where I want to be, working with collogues that I trust and respect, and who appreciate my … proclivities. What else could I ask for, eh boss?”

Gen ran his eyes down Cassandra’s ample curves, smiling to himself as he sensed her discomfort. He patted the knives on his belt. The twin blades grew warm, responded to his touch and growing hot to match his own lust.

There was no greater joy than carving an unblemished canvas and the Quad leader’s skin was exquisite. Just a few quick snips and she could be perfect.

“Just be ready to go in twenty,” Cassandra said. “I’ve got one more thing to do before we go. Slav?” she tossed the core to the large Defender, “get this to the obelisk, I want a strike team to secure the staging area within the dungeon before I get back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Slav said, already turning to leave.

“Stay a minute, Gen?”

Once Slav and Striker had left the room, the temperature cooled as a blue glow filled the room. Gen felt a force pressing down on him, but he fought it. He knew the outcome, but he was unable to submit without a fight. If the bitch wanted his service, let her earn it.

The pressure grew until he fell to one knee, his head bowed as if in supplication. He growled as he reached for his knives, but they were ripped from his hands.

“Looking for these?”

“Give them back!” he roared. “They’re not yours, I found them, I nurtured them. They’re mine!”

Cassandra smiled, tossing the two daggers so they fell with a loud clank right below Gen’s face. He tried to grab them, but his hands wouldn’t respond as the pressure grew, pinning them to his sides.

“What do you want?”

“A job,” she said, “One of the targets is Lord Reech’s sister ... I see your anticipation. Good. I want you to get to her first, do with her what you want but she has a child with her. I want that child alive and unharmed. Capture him with this.”

Gen smiled, as he caught the marble-sized SSD.

“Do the others know?”

“No one else needs to know, as far as the official report goes Nina Reech and her accomplice died resisting lawful arrest. We recovered the package but we never found the boy.”

“I’m going to have fun,” his cheeks burned as his grin widened. “My blades have never carved a Reech.”