I finish my mushroom beer and head back upstairs. Chris is already snoring like an overheating diesel engine. I collapse onto the neighboring bed without even bothering to kick off my boots.

  Sleep takes me instantly. A dreamless black hole.

  ***

  When I open my eyes, the vibe has shifted.

  Outside the round window carved into the rock, the cavern light isn’t warm and amber anymore. It’s a harsh, almost aggressive bluish-white. The giant mushrooms on the ceiling of the cave have shifted their bioluminescent cycle. It’s their way of simulating morning, a chemical mock-up of dawn that stings the eyes.

  I rub my face, trying to clear the cobwebs from my brain. My HP is full, but my motivation is still loading.

  The bed next to mine is empty. Chris is already on the floor, cranking out push-ups at a gravity-defying speed. With his new stats, he isn’t even breaking a sweat.

  “998… 999… 1000!” he counts joyfully.

  “Stop showing off, soldier,” I grumble as I drag myself up, my joints cracking in symphony. “We have a kingdom to infiltrate.”

  We head down to the common room.

  The inn is unrecognizable. The dense, violent, rowdy crowd from last night has vanished, completely sucked into the rock. The room is practically empty, scrubbed clean by some silent magic. Only a few stragglers remain, passed out with their heads on the tables, drooling into the sawdust, while the landlady polishes her counter with suspicious energy.

  I spot our team. Kim and Nectarine are tucked away at an isolated table in a dark corner.

  We sit down. The atmosphere is heavy, thick with unspoken tension.

  In front of them sits a feast worthy of a five-star hotel. Boiled indigo fruits, split open to reveal glistening, luscious flesh. Right next to that, a bowl of steaming golden cream sprinkled with caramelized hazelnut shards.

  I pick up a spoon, highly suspicious. I take a taste.

  My taste buds explode. It’s warm, creamy, just sweet enough, with a divine aftertaste of vanilla and wild honey. After days of chewing on protein bars that tasted like damp cardboard, it feels like eating a cloud. It’s to die for.

  “Sleep well?” Kim asks. She looks as fresh as if she just walked out of a luxury spa. Thank you, legendary regeneration.

  “Like a log,” I reply, my voice still groggy. “But I had an interesting evening. Very educational.”

  I drop my spoon with a sharp clack. I stare Nectarine right in the eyes—or at least what I can see of them under the shadow of her burlap hood.

  “I heard things downstairs last night. Rumors.”

  Nectarine stiffens, stopping her golden brioche toast halfway to her mouth. Her long ears twitch under the fabric.

  “Rumors?” she repeats in a falsely innocent voice, just a bit too high-pitched. “The small folk love to talk so much… They invent stories to fill the void of their existence.”

  “They were talking about you. And your brother-in-law. The Duke.”

  She sets her toast down slowly. Very slowly. Like she’s disarming a bomb.

  “They say he didn’t die from a fall off a horse,” I push on, completely ruthless. “They say he was found dead in your bed. And that you literally… drained him of his life. ‘Killed on the job.’ That’s the exact term.”

  Chris chokes on his porridge, sputtering out gray lumps. Kim raises an eyebrow, suddenly very invested in the conversation.

  Nectarine lets out a theatrical gasp of indignation, slapping her hands to her cheeks, mouth forming a perfect “O”.

  “That is false! It is slander! A state lie!”

  Her face twists, instantly switching to ‘Weeping Victim’ mode. Huge tears roll down her lashes like pearls. The performance easily deserves an Oscar.

  “I never touched that man! Never! It was him! He came into my room!”

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  She sniffles loudly, wiping her nose with her dirty sleeve.

  “I was sleeping peacefully, clothed only in my innocence… and when I opened my eyes in the morning, he was there! In my sheets! Butt naked! And… and he was dead! I screamed! I was terrified! I am the victim in this story! They tried to frame me by placing a naked corpse in my bed!”

  She looks at us in turn, desperately seeking support, batting her eyelashes.

  “You believe me, do you not? You do not think I am capable of such a thing? Me, a maiden so fragile?”

  I just look at her. I think back to the pink tent. The hot springs. The way she jumped me like a predator in heat. That absolute psycho stare she gets when she flips personalities.

  I catch Kim’s eye. Her eyelids are half-closed, broadcasting a clear message: She’s screwing with us on a cosmic level. Chris stares at his bowl, thoroughly embarrassed, not knowing where to look.

  No one says a word. The universal face of ‘I’m done’ hangs heavy over our table.

  “Yeah, yeah, of course,” I say in a deadpan tone, with zero conviction. “We believe you. You’re a saint. It’s just a big misunderstanding. The Duke must have tripped, lost his clothes on the way down, and randomly landed under your covers. Happens all the time.”

  “Absolutely,” Kim adds, her sarcasm sharp enough to cut glass. “A GPS error, no doubt.”

  Nectarine looks satisfied, dries her imaginary tears in a split second, and casually picks her toast back up.

  “Anyway,” I cut in before she reboots her act. “Guilty or not, it changes nothing for the mission. We just have to deliver you to the Palace. That’s your problem, not ours.”

  I wipe my bowl clean with a piece of hard bread.

  “The real question is, how do we get in? The main gate has to be guarded by the entire army. We aren’t laying siege with three people.”

  Nectarine wipes her mouth delicately. She leans in, lowering her voice like a conspirator.

  “It is impossible to go through the gates. The guards have orders to arrest me. But there is another way. A forgotten passage that only the royal family knows.”

  Her eyes sparkle.

  “The Drainage Canals.”

  I freeze, spoon hovering in mid-air.

  “You mean… the sewers?”

  “It is a complex system for evacuating wastewater and alchemical fluids!” she protests with pure dignity. “A marvel of engineering! It leads directly to a secret room beneath the Palace kitchens.”

  I let my head drop onto the table with a dull thud. BONK.

  “Of course. Obviously.”

  I lift my head, shooting Kim and Chris a look of sheer despair.

  “It’s an RPG classic. It’s the immutable law. After the forest level and the city level, we always get the mandatory ‘Sewer Level.’ It’s written right into the sadistic developer’s spec sheet. We always have to end up in the shit.”

  I stand up, adjusting my fluorescent yellow vest.

  “Alright. Let’s go for a dive in troubled waters. As a Garbage Man, I guess this is my time to shine. It’s my natural biome. Lead the way, Princess.”

  Nectarine stands, smooths her tunic, and then frowns at her reflection in a silver spoon.

  “Wait. I cannot go down into the sewers looking like this. I have porridge on my nose and I smell stale. I must freshen up. A Princess must be presentable, even in the muck.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Seriously? We’re on the run, Nectarine. We aren’t at Fashion Week.”

  “It will take five minutes!” she insists. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  Kim finishes her tea and stands up, slinging her rifle over her shoulder.

  “Go ahead. I’m going with you. But if you take any longer, I’m dragging you out by your hair.”

  They head up the stairs to our floor.

  Chris and I are left alone at the table. The inn is quiet. I look at the remains of the feast—golden brioches, candied fruits, nectar juice.

  “Well,” I say, sitting back down. “Might as well make the wait worth it.”

  I order a second round of everything. We eat like kings. It’s the first time since this adventure started that we’ve had a moment of gastric peace.

  Ten minutes pass.

  “They’re taking forever,” Chris remarks, his mouth full of cream.

  “She’s a princess, kid. Time is for the poo—”

  BAM! BAM!

  Two sharp cracks shake the inn’s walls. The unmistakable sound of Kim’s Viper rifle.

  I spit out my brioche. “Shit!”

  I jump up, knocking the table over. Chris grabs his sword.

  We rush the stairs, taking them four at a time, hearts pounding against our ribs. We reach the hallway. The door to the girls’ room is completely smashed in, hanging loosely off its hinges.

  “Kim!” I yell as I burst inside, shovel raised.

  The room is an absolute battlefield. Beds are flipped, furniture shattered.

  And right in the middle of the chaos, Kim is lying face down on the floor, motionless.

  Next to her, a guy in black leather lies in a widening pool of bluish blood, a gaping hole in his chest. He’s still breathing, but barely. Unconscious.

  But the room is completely empty otherwise.

  “Nectarine!” Chris yells, kicking open the bathroom door. “She’s not here! They grabbed her!”

  I drop to my knees beside Kim and roll her over. She doesn’t have any visible injuries. But her eyes are shut tight, and her breathing is shallow. Way too slow.

  A sickly sweet, chemical, cloying scent floats in the air.

  I clamp my hand over my nose and mouth.

  “Don’t breathe, Chris!” I shout, my voice muffled. “It smells like alchemical chloroform! It’s a heavy-duty sleeping gas!”

  I shake Kim. Nothing. She’s out cold. If we stick around, we’ll end up just like her. We need to wake her up, and fast. We have to chase down those kidnappers before they vanish into the tunnels.

  I hold my breath and frantically pull up the Cosmic Shop. The air is so thick with that sweet chloroform scent it’s already making my head spin.

  “Come on… there has to be some stupid antidote… Anti-sleep… Stimulant…”

  I scroll at breakneck speed, my fingers swiping across the immaterial interface.

  And I find it. A matte black can, branded with a red lightning bolt that pulses gently, like an artificial heart.

  [Drink: GodTers (Limited Edition)] Type: Divine Stimulant / Antidote. Effect: Wakes up anyone, even the (clinically) dead. Bonus: Removes fatigue. Infinite Stamina for 24 hours. Total immunity to sleep and drowsiness. Condition: Effect activates only if the entire content is consumed. Restriction: Cannot be shared. Risk of severe tachycardia. Price: 2,500 CG.

  I grimace like I’m getting a root canal without anesthesia.

  “2,500 bucks for an energy drink?! That’s highway robbery! That’s the price of a black-market kidney!”

  But I don’t have a choice. Kim is our radar, our DPS, our only chance of catching the kidnappers. Without her speed and precision, Nectarine is lost, and so are we.

  I hit [Buy] with a knot of pure rage in my stomach.