2026-03-05 08:03:15
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Chapter 40: The Belly of the Monster
“Smells like a demon’s stomach having a severe ulcer,” Claire muttered, fighting the urge to vomit behind her gas mask. The three of them sprinted across a rusted iron bridge hanging high above a vast lake of neon green liquid. Below, corrosive acid boiled violently. Giant bubbles rose to the surface, bursting and spraying toxic steam in every direction. PSSSHHH! A splash of acid struck the side of Throg’s boots. White smoke instantly billowed upward. The leather melted within seconds, nearly reaching his toes. “Hot! Hot!” Throg hopped in pain, nearly slipping into the deadly acid lake below. “Don’t stop, idiot!” Oliver shouted from the front. He ran while clutching his stomach, which throbbed with pain. The side effects from the data overload in the previous round were still tormenting him. In the center of the roiling acid lake stood Gluttony, Sin Number Five, in its true form. It was no longer the obese man who had lounged comfortably in the VIP stands. Now it had tra
Chapter 39: Hell’s Waiting Room
The blinding white light slowly faded, replaced by the warm glow of crystal chandeliers. Soft instrumental jazz drifted through the air, a mellow saxophone replacing the screams of death and the roaring chainsaws of the Minotaur that had filled their ears moments earlier. Oliver opened his eyes slowly. For a brief second he wondered if he had died and entered heaven, or at least the version of heaven reserved for the wealthy. But as his gaze moved around the room, he quickly realized this was not a peaceful afterlife. This was the Rest Area. The room was enormous, designed like the lobby of a five-star hotel in Dubai. The floor was covered in thick red carpet that swallowed every footstep. The walls were paneled with expensive mahogany and decorated with enchanted paintings that moved slowly within their frames. At the far end of the room stood a long bar staffed by an octopus bartender mixing ten d
Chapter 38. Bullet Diplomacy
The exit gate stood directly in front of them now. The brilliant white light pouring from it promised safety, rest, and perhaps a desperately needed glass of cold water. But between Oliver and that small slice of heaven stood five figures blocking the path with arrogant confidence. Dark Elves. They were not the friendly woodland Elves of fairy tales. They were mercenary killers from the Underdark. Their skin was gray, their hair stark white, and their purple eyes glowed faintly in the dim light. Their armor was crafted from black Drake leather that absorbed light almost unnaturally. Their weapons were ready and deadly. Composite bows, paired poison daggers, and short swords that looked razor sharp. Their leader, a tall male with a serpent tattoo coiled around his neck, stepped forward. He flipped a dagger in his hand with such speed that the motion blurred. "Stop there, hu
Chapter 37. The Labyrinth of Greed
"Don't... Touch... Anything!" Oliver's voice cut through the narrow corridor, sharp and deliberate. The sound echoed off the walls that were... blinding. They were now deep inside The Maze of Avarice, and the name was not metaphorical decoration. The labyrinth walls were not made of brick or concrete. They were formed from compressed treasure fused together by high-level gravity magic. Ancient gold coins, crowns of long-dead kings, jeweled goblets, diamond necklaces, all melded into towering walls twenty meters high. The floor consisted of black marble tiles interlaid with bars of pure gold. The lighting here felt unnatural. There were no lamps, yet the gold itself glowed faintly, casting a dull yellow illumination that hurt the eyes while quietly stirring greed inside the heart. "Boss..." Griz the Goblin Accountant spoke with a strained voice. His breathing sounded like an asthmatic wheeze. "Boss... you see that? That's the Crown of King S
Chapter 36. Parade of the Dead
The purple light from the portal slowly faded, swallowed by the darkness of the dimension before it was suddenly replaced by the glare of stage lights, thousands of watts blasting straight into Oliver’s eyes. He closed them for a moment, letting his body adjust to the drastic shift in atmospheric pressure. The first thing that greeted him was not fresh air. It was sound. ROAAARRRR! The noise was not the scream of a single monster. It was the combined roar of millions of throats, Orcs, Goblins, Vampires, Banshees, even high-class Demons, all shouting at once. The wave of sound felt like a physical blow that pressed against his chest and made his heart skip a beat. “Damn…” Griz cursed, covering his long green ears. “I thought the Death Metal concerts in the slave barracks were loud. This… this is insane, Boss!” Oliver slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the blinding arena lights. They were standing on a floating platform made of black stone, suspended m
Chapter 35. Entering the Arena
"Hold your breath, Boss. This is going to hurt. Worse than losing a finger." Griz, the Goblin accountant who was doubling as an improvised mechanic, tightened the final screw on Oliver's left arm. They were inside the secret workshop behind The Kennel. The air smelled like enchanted oil and burnt flesh. Oliver sat in an operating chair with his shirt sleeve rolled up to the elbow. On his left hand, the one missing the ring finger, a device was now attached. It was not an ordinary prosthetic. It was a Concealed Mechanical Gauntlet. Forged from dark Mithril metal, light yet harder than steel, the device wrapped around Oliver's forearm from wrist to elbow. Fine needles pierced the skin, linking the gauntlet directly to his nerves. "Activate it," Oliver ordered. Cold sweat ran down his temple. Griz pressed the activation switch. ZZZT! A surge of magical electricity shot through Oliver's nerves. "ARGH!" Oliver groaned, teeth grinding together. The fi
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