Seven hours later, I emerged from the car with a short stagger, steam billowing from my skin into the cold night air. I turned around and retrieved my silk pants, the only garment I had left in the world. Molls giggled as she covered herself with the blanket, and I stepped into my pants again.

“I don’t think I have ever been this dehydrated, what have you done to me, woman?” I asked, hanging on the partially closed car door.

Molls laughed again, a sound I was very quickly becoming addicted to. She turned over, digging under the side of the seat for something and disturbing her blanket. It slid off, revealing her shapely, nude rear end.

Nah’gh from Molls’ version of their world had hips, and a dual tail section below their reproductive organs that very closely mirrored legs without feet. Her tail split and was capable of more complex movement with double-jointed knees but rejoined where her ankles should be and continued on in classic reptilian fashion. This anatomical design made for curves that were very alike to Nu-Earth human norms.

Her inner thighs didn’t even have scales, being part of the only area on her body without them.

She’d formed a new ring of purple on her scales, in permanent pigment, during our time together in her excessively hot car, something she told me was very special. I realized as I watched her rummaging that I already wanted her again.

The only reason we had stopped was because I’d gotten a call from Axle telling me our new employee was about to land and would be expecting payment. Our fund was short, and Axle needed me to come over and help him smash and sell some of the treasure left behind by the Delves to make up the shortfall.

I’d been tempted to tell him off, even with how dire our straits were, but Molls told me to go. She explained that her people could mate for days without stopping, and that whatever time we got together was a gift in her eyes. I still didn’t want to leave that car.

But, duty, and my Knowle friend called. So I found myself standing in the comparatively chilly night air, as my new serpentine lover dug around for something.

“Ah!” she chirped, sitting up straight and holding a large bottle out. She realized her state of undress and covered up with the blanket, shivering. “Drink this, you’ll love it.”

I raised an eyebrow. The bottle she was handing me looked like simple glass with a metal cap, but the liquid inside was vibrant blue. “Is it made from bugs?” I asked with a scowl.

Molls burst out laughing. Between bouts of vigorous physical activity, we had spent hours talking, and I admitted that I was getting past my bug-eating phobia and mentioned interest in her drumu dust coffee. We didn’t end up sharing a cup, as she teased me about my reluctance until I plied her with physical attention as a pleasant distraction.

“No, you absurd man. It’s just juice.” She dropped the blanket, to my delight, and unscrewed the cap to take a sip. “Sweet and delicious, very hydrating. Here.” Molls tossed the capped bottle in the air, caught it deftly with her tail, and pulled up the blanket as she thrust the bottle out the car door into my face.

I took the bottle and smiled at her, as she quickly withdrew the tail. She’d installed banks of heat lighting in the ceiling, and as I watched, she activated one of them directly over her own head. It was what I had mistaken for mirrors, but it worked very much the same as a mirror, so long as the lights were not on.

“I don’t want to tell you to leave, but I’m also far too naked and freezing for that door to stay open,” she finally said.

“You don’t mind my leering anymore?” I asked, a smile on my lips.

Molls sighed, luxuriating into her pillow mound further and smiling. “Mmm, not at all. It was never really the leering that bothered me, it was more about the assumption.”

“Couldn’t help it the first time, super glad I don’t have to try not to anymore,” I said, kissing my fingertips and blowing it to her. She grinned at me, using her whole mouth to do so.

Since we were getting comfortable around one another, I had told her not to bother trying to hide her true mouth. I liked her real smile, not the one she put on for show.

Then I closed the door and turned to go meet with Axle in the storage section of our underground residential facility.

As I was walking down the road out of my site, I got a text from Molls. “You should shower before you go meet with your Knowle. It smells like sex in here.” There was a picture from her too, still wrapped in her blankets and pillow pile, smiling up at the camera.

I immediately turned around and headed into my house, walking past the random hobb I’d never met who was babysitting Cube and going straight into my new shower. I’d forgotten how taking a shower could feel, and turned the showerhead to the tightest setting, blasting my skin with hot water. I scrubbed as quickly as I could, just using my hands. Soap was something I had also failed to acquire, so I just rubbed and used the water to get myself clean as best I could.

There was no towel either, so I drip dried for a couple of moments before getting impatient and using the remnants of my comforter. A gobb had torn it up with a carpeting tool, but it worked well enough as a towel for my needs.

Being without a towel was unacceptable, I made a mental note to find one before I came back home.

The blue juice was sitting in its bottle on the floor as I finished getting dressed again, and reminded me of how thirsty I was. I cracked the lid and took a sip, quickly guzzling the rest. The juice was cool and refreshing, mildly sweet with a general aura of light, tropical fruit. The flavor immediately entered my top ten favorites, and I thought about how incredible a margarita made with it would be.

Without pause a BuyMort ad rose up showing myself and Molls lounging on some white sand beach next to the clearest blue I’d ever seen. In between us was a large bottle decorated all over with fruits and cocktail glasses.

Nothing says rest and relaxation better than a cool and icy margarita on the beach with the one that you love. And nothing says margarita better than Winding Road Prime Tequila. That natural smooth and rich taste that’s so good, you can drink it straight from the bottle.

Live life frozen, spicy and bubbly. Make your margaritas with Winding Road Prime. 30000 morties, 4.9 stars

I smiled at the ad, wondering if a vacation like that would ever be possible. The price tag was huge for a bottle of liquor, but if I could have a day just like the one they showed, it’d be well worth it. I dismissed the ad as I walked past Molls’ car again and saw the blinds in the backseat flex so she could peek at me. I grinned even more widely, marveling at just how cute she was. With a quick wave, I jogged out of the lot and headed for the elevator down to the residential area.

Running was not something I did a lot of back before BuyMort, so I was surprised to find that jogging was a very comfortable movement speed for me. My jog was also somewhat faster than normal, because of my crystalline colonies. I gave some thought to my recent endurance, with Molls, and wondered how much of that had been enhanced by my patch as well. Power Blow indeed.

When I arrived at the elevator shaft, I was greeted with a sign that informed me they were closed for the evening, to cut down on noise for everyone. The elevator had been a bit creaky. It was locked in place at the top of the shaft, creating a decently solid barrier for most people, but a mildly annoying door for me.

My enhanced strength allowed me to lift a corner of the large metal slab and slip beneath it. I held onto the lip, and then dropped down to the first floor, the tunnel I had been chased through so recently by angry Sleem cubes.

From there it was a short walk down to the former grocery store turned storage room. Axle was already there, and he looked up with a sniff as I walked in the room. His eyes fixated on me and narrowed as he sniffed the air, and a slow smile crept across his face.

“I am happy for you, my new friend, and grateful that you took the time to wash afterwards,” he said.

I froze momentarily, stupid, emberrased grin on my face. “I, uh . . . felt like living.”

“No explanation needed, or judgment passed by me. I am merely happy that you have found someone. It is an important part of life, to most,” he said, glancing up at me. “and to be perfectly honest, you’ve seemed stressed. Sex is good stress relief.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” I asked, dreamily.

Axle burst out laughing, and I joined him.

“Shall we go through some treasure?” He said, once our laughter had calmed.

“I’m ready,” I answered.

Axle was becoming more and more of a friend, and I found myself looking forward to digging through stuff with him, looking for good bits to sell.

The next half hour was spent going through some of the personal belongings that the delves had left us via the right of conquest. I had wanted to start with the jewelry, but Axle warned me away and suggested the many silk items instead. Without a viable excuse for scrap gold to be running through our affiliate, most of the jewelry would raise suspicions, or at the very least, leave clear evidence that we were selling a cache of jewelry and trying to do so without being noticed.

Axle assured me that he had excavation income planned for the future of the affiliate. With a name like Silken Sands, he said, it would feel strange not to invest in some form of mining operation. A mining operation that would be beneficial to our ever-growing construction needs, he further explained. Once that was up and running, the odd occasional chunk of gold being run through the affiliate wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

So we went to the silk goods, which had been separated by our industrious hobbs. There were tapestries, most showing scenes of decadence. Orgies, wine fountains, drug dens, orgies in wine fountains and drug dens. One I found particularly interesting showed what seemed to be a scene of ancient dark elf government. It was the oldest piece in the collection by far.

A city carved in a cave held dozens of buildings, built into and out of the various oversized stalagmites and stalactites, overlooked by a parliamentary chamber hung in the ceiling of the cavern. Dozens of elves with ink black skin and ember red eyes argued over a long scroll on a pedestal, some pointing at the city below them, others clutching bags of spilling gold coins and turned away from the rest. Below their platform, various disasters were depicted among those in the city. Disease, famine, war, and greed were all separately represented on the tapestry, the city in ruins among them.

We discussed the tapestry as we took to it with silk shears. I wondered at its significance and Axle assured me the imagery would not be lost simply because we destroyed it. His library would ensure that.

Axle scanned each tapestry thoroughly, with a handheld device he tucked into his mesh top’s main pocket between each item. We unrolled, scanned, and then ripped apart three of the smaller tapestries, tucking the scraps into an oversized basket. Axle guided me in cutting the scraps into shapes and sizes that would be classed as scrap silk when BuyMort took it to market for us.

Following that task, I helped him carry the basket up through Shela’s bolt hole to the spider ranch. So far, nothing fancy had been done with the hole, so we had to climb out the last few feet, through the recently cut hardpack. Shela left oversized webbing that was surprisingly helpful. We used it like a rope ladder for the last, most difficult portion of the climb.

When we emerged from the ground, I heard splashing and looked around at the sound. Shela was submerged in her pool, an oval shaped pond cut in the earth large enough for her and two others her size, if she chose to share. Not that we had the spiders to spare, I sighed as I looked at our damaged section.

The dark elf Dro’erja was working in the grove of Joshua trees, wearing an oversized straw hat in addition to his coveralls. He held a bucket in one hand, and had a sponge tied to a stick in the other. Once the sponge was dipped in the bucket, Dro’erja gently rubbed it against the tree limbs, being careful to avoid any areas that spiders currently had webbing in. He paid particular attention to the trunk of his tree.

Drusk approached, as Shela flicked her legs and splashed the water again. She lurked just beneath the surface, her long thick hair swaying gently in the water as she peered out from beneath it with her multitude of dark eyes.

“Boss. Axle.” Drusk grunted. He was carrying a large BuyMort box and wearing a small white cloth mask over the tip of his nose. I smelled why as he came closer, the unmistakable stench of rotting flesh-tape emitted from the box.

It was time to get back down to more BuyMort business.