Law, p.1
Law, page 1
Everybody Loves Large Chests
Volume Ten: Law
A book by Neven Iliev
Prologue
Jen stared at the sky with a dull expression that betrayed her thoughtlessness. This was how she usually was whenever she wasn’t actively looking for, preparing for, or in the middle of a fight. She was conserving brain power for when she needed it the most, leaving her in a state that could be described as stoic silence, if one was exceptionally generous. In truth, she was more like a statue. She remained utterly unthinking and unresponsive despite the surrounding torrential downpour trying its best to drown her. It wasn’t ideal weather for harpies or griffins, let alone a hybrid of the two, yet Jen was entirely unperturbed being liberally doused with her Bane. As was the case with any monster’s inherent elemental weakness, only magic imbued with that aspect was truly dangerous. A natural phenomenon like rain would be an inconvenience at most but had an even lesser impact on Jen.
Though now a monster, she was still a Level 100 Monk with a maxed-out Diamond Soul Skill. The griffin-girl wasn’t cold despite the fact she was lightly clothed, and the droplets that fell on her skin would either bounce or slide right off, leaving her remarkably dry. The only exception were her feathery wings, which couldn’t help but get thoroughly soaked. This rendered her unable to use her innate wind magic to fly. She could probably do it through sheer force if push came to shove, though there was little need for it. Jen was only a few kilometers from her new home beneath Rancid Rock – a distance easily covered on foot. She also wasn’t in any particular rush to get back, as she rather enjoyed the weather. The overwhelming downpour had a habit of thinning out the fog of poisonous spores and pollen that normally permeated the region, rendering the Monk’s current environment unusually refreshing. Even if those airborne toxins were no real threat to her, they were still unpleasant to inhale.
There was another, far more relevant upside to this weather. Rainstorms were an ideal time to catch boulder-scaled piranha, a type of ravenous fish native to Velos. It was one of the few local species that could be called a delicacy and had been something of a staple of Jen’s diet during her childhood. Catching them was relatively simple on paper, as they were hungry buggers that would instantly latch onto any lump of bloodied meat. The rainfall made it even easier to get a bite since the barrage of droplets against the water’s surface made them excitable and jumpy, drawing them to the surface. Once the piranha had taken the bait, pulling it out of the water was simply a matter of overpowering it in a contest of strength. This was where most fishermen would struggle, but with Jen it was an exceedingly one-sided affair even before her monsterfication a week ago. All she had to worry about was having a rod, line, and hook sturdy enough to handle the forces at play. Thus, she was currently laying on her back atop a bare rock on a random riverbank. She stared up at the cloudy sky as water dripped all over her, clutching one end of her adamantite staff with her left foot. She’d tied off the other end of the weapon with a metal cable forged from a mithril-silver alloy, connecting it to the piece of fresh bait currently drifting in the murky waters below.
“Really? That’s where five meters of my superconductor disappeared to?”
Jen shifted her gaze towards the source of that disgruntled voice then sat up with a look of mild surprise.
“It makes for a durable yet flexible line,” the Monk calmly explained.
“Line?!” Fizzy screamed. “You’re using my superconductors for something as stupid as fishing?!”
“Fishing is not stupid.”
“Oh? It’s not, is it?”
The dynamo golem stepped closer and lifted her hand towards the improvised fishing rod and invoked her Geomagnetic Grip. The high-performance electrical cable slid off the end of Jen’s staff and flicked towards Fizzy as if it had a mind of its own. She grabbed it and raised her body’s power output, causing the current permeating her body to spike. Arcs of blue lightning crackled around her, evaporating the raindrops that fell on her mithril frame in tiny bursts of steam. The current was transmitted through the thick cable and into the rushing river waters, electrocuting everything within a few dozen meters of it. It lasted only an instant, but the sudden shock had either stunned or outright killed dozens of large-toothed fish, causing their unmoving bodies to float up to the surface.
“See? Stupid,” Fizzy grumbled as she reeled in her precious cable. “Why go through the trouble of baiting a line when you can just do that?”
“… Okay.”
Jen didn’t feel like arguing over the sport’s relaxing nature or the whole ‘man versus wild’ aspect of it, mostly because she didn’t really buy into that drivel. The only reason she was even doing it the ‘stupid’ way was to kill time until the rainstorm had passed. If she was trying to be efficient, she’d smear herself in animal blood and dive in so the hungry biters would come to her, blissfully unaware it was all but impossible for them to pierce her Ki-Imbued Skin. Regardless of her intentions, she certainly wasn’t going to complain about getting so many of them at once and was looking forward to grilling them up later. Right now, however, she was far more concerned with Fizzy’s presence all the way out here by the river.
“How are you here?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the golem squinted.
“I was told dungeon masters could not leave the dungeon.”
This tidbit was the source of the Monk’s initial confusion. She was going to live in a dungeon for the foreseeable future, so her new employer briefed her on the ins and outs of its functions. The lecture also covered key details surrounding the dungeon master position, such as the fact that one could not leave the crystal core’s sphere of influence without severing the connection between them. It was the main reason Jen was ill-suited to the post. She would need to spend most of her time out and about as she trained her Job and Skill Levels, so there wasn’t much point in appointing her as Fizzy’s replacement when she and Boxxy left Velos.
“They can if they’re quitting.”
A moment that had come sooner rather than later.
“I put the finishing touches on my weapon upgrade earlier today, so we decided we’d board the next boat out of here. Which is tomorrow.”
“… I see.”
Though rather abrupt, Boxxy’s departure was hardly unexpected considering the shapeshifter had discussed its plans for the immediate future with Jen in significant detail. The only reason it stuck around this long was because its trophy wife insisted she finish her newest project while ‘the spark of inspiration was still bright,’ in the golem’s own words. Once the shapeshifter departed, it would be at least two weeks before it got an opportunity to drop in and check on Jen, meaning she’d be completely on her own until then.
“Will Boxxy be coming to pick you up?”
“It’s already here. It asked me to find and bring you back.”
“Understood, let me just grab some-”
“Now, meatbag!” Fizzy insisted. “We don’t have all day!”
Jen looked mournfully at the copious amounts of unmoving fish floating down the river. As much as she wanted to savor them, the golem was right – it was a bad idea to keep Boxxy waiting. Besides, she wouldn’t want to miss her chance to say goodbye. It was an odd urge prompted by her griffin-derived bond with the doppelganger, but she had learned the hard way that denying or ignoring her instincts would only make them louder. They had to be appeased before they were mastered.
Upon returning to the Dark Eyrie, Jen was confronted with a trio of unexpected visitors.
“Ah, the prodigal bird-brain returns.”
“‘Sup, chicken wings?”
“Tktktktkt…”
Xera, Kora, and Drea were all lined up in the open in front of Boxxy, currently in ‘Sandman-lite’ form. This was only the second time Jen had seen the tundra webstalker out in the open. Though they exchanged words on quite a few occasions, the arachnid assassin had always concealed herself during her past interactions. The Monk now understood this behavior wasn’t prompted by a lack of trust, a desire to remain ever-vigilant, or any other practical reasons. It was merely a byproduct of the bizarre shyness inherent to all stalker demons, and the fact that she was standing there on full display could only mean one thing.
“Is it time for another team building exercise?” Jen asked in her usual monotone.
“Precisely,” Boxxy confirmed. “I want to oversee you lot working together while I have the chance, and I’m curious to see if there’ve been any improvements since last time.”
Solid teamwork was as important to a group’s survival as individual strength, arguably even more so. It was a valuable lesson the shapeshifter picked up early in life after having to fight tightly-knit adventuring parties multiple times while it was still a simple box with teeth. It learned that the best way to engage such an enemy was to destroy or cripple the group’s unity before it engaged them in a direct assault. This was best accomplished through underhanded methods like assassinating a party’s healer or leader before engaging the rest. However, the concept of teamwork didn’t come naturally to most monsters, let alone exceptionally selfish creatures like mimics. It wasn’t until Boxxy started role-playing as Keira Morgana that it grasped there was more to it than using its minions to make up for its own shortcomings. Milo Faehorn taught the not-a-catgirl that cooperation had far more potential as a two-way street, which the experienced instructor condensed in some sage words of wisdom.
“No matter how strong the bow or sharp the arrow, they are worthless without the other.”
The shapeshif
This lull in large-scale violence would end once the Dragon Festival began, so the monster felt it vital that Jen got used to working with the others in extreme situations as quickly as possible. Boxxy was a shapeshifter with a wide variety of abilities, so it could easily adapt to the presence of a new ally. The Monk had proven herself equally as flexible, no doubt a trait she picked up over a lifetime of swapping allies and allegiances. The other girls were… less than cooperative. Whether it be Fizzy’s pride or the stubborn nature of a centuries-old demonic trio, they seemed to have some deep-rooted reservations towards working with a former enemy. This was a problem, as poor teamwork could prove disastrous when challenging the unpredictable terrain, powerful creatures, and veteran Rankers of the Shattered Isles. Luckily, Boxxy had a solution. The girls just needed to be thrown in a few extreme situations and get knocked around a bit while tripping over each other. Like it or not, they were bound to learn from their mistakes and learn to at least stay out of one another’s way.
The ideal place to do that was currently in the palm of Boxxy’s hand.
“Hang on, I need a few more minutes to finish charging it.”
The Atlas of Dreams could provide the monstrous coalition with any number of instant dungeons, each with their own unique challenges and difficulty rating. Whether it was powerful monsters, extremely hostile environments, special rules, or a dastardly mix, the vast majority of the Divine item’s fifty-five dungeon templates could serve as a controlled training ground. When the group tried it five days ago, they had gotten a preset called ‘The Nothingness.’ It was empty space devoid of any solid ground, gravity, and light that threw asteroid elementals at them, punctuated by a titanic comet golem as the final challenge. It was a perfect example of the group having to pool their individual talents and support one another, as not everyone could see in perfect darkness or fly in a weightless space. At least there was breathable air, which was more than could be said of the Moon Madness dungeon.
“Alright, here it comes!”
Boxxy released the vibrating pink gemstone, which exploded into a ball of arcane energy. As per usual, it took a few seconds for the dungeon to form and the portal to stabilize. When it did, the pink inter-dimensional gateway revealed a peaceful scene of a bright sun and mostly clear sky above a tranquil beach at the end of a beautiful ocean.
“Unfortunate.”
“Well, that sucks.”
“Ugh, this again, tktktktk…”
“Yeah, count me out.”
Everyone but Jen and Boxxy groaned in disappointment when they recognized they’d hit one of the four ‘vacation’ dungeons. The most boring one, too. The ski lodge in the Winter Wonderland offered a fun activity from another world that hadn’t quite caught on. The Floating City took place in an impossible town that rested atop the clouds and offered some unique cuisines and sights. The Gambler’s Gambit was in a league of its own, as it took the shape of a luxurious casino with many features and activities that included, but were not limited to, blackjack and hookers. Compared to them, ‘Fun in the Sun’ was the dullest by far in the demons’ collective opinion, and ‘the absolute worst’ where Fizzy was concerned. This particular iteration was especially dull. The environment’s colors were somewhat randomized and could produce some halfway interesting combinations, like purple skies, green waters, and orange sands. Alas, even that small deviation had conspired to bring about a thoroughly normal-looking space.
Jen didn’t know any of that, though. This was her second time using the Atlas and first time seeing such an idyllic beach, so she found herself quite intrigued.
“Want to check it out?” Boxxy suggested when it noticed her gawking.
“Yes, Mas- Boxxy,” the Monk nodded.
“Alright, might as well put it to use then. You lot, go with her and keep her company.”
A series of puzzled expressions dawned upon the other four’s faces as they failed to grasp why it gave them that order. Truthfully, it didn’t have a good reason. Boxxy merely thought that since it already put the time and effort in creating this dungeon, it might as well get some use out of it. Spending some casual time with one another was still a good way to increase team cohesion, even if not as expedient as live combat. Plus, it looked like this vacation spot might score a few points with Jen, which was by no means a bad thing. Past experiences had taught it that motivated minions produced the best results, so fostering a good relationship with the winged woman was a sound investment.
“Master, I do not believe this a wise use of our time,” Xera insisted. “Instead, you should focus on gaping my asshole so wide you could stuff a tree trunk in there.”
“That was not a request. It’s an order. Hop to it. And no in-fighting! Especially you, Snack. I don’t want to hear how you ‘accidentally’ scorched Jen’s face off.”
“Yeeees, Master,” the demons replied in unison.
The shapeshifter then threw a questioning look to Fizzy.
“Ah-hah. No, screw that place,” she firmly declined. “I don’t care what you say, I’m not stepping in that weird sand.”
The golem had been somewhat traumatized by the desert-spanning misadventure that she, Keira, Nao, and that Monk raptor named Corrai mistakenly undertook. She swore she still heard the rattle of loose sand within her chassis even though it had been over a year and Boxxy repeatedly assured there weren’t any rogue grains left. There was no way in Hell she was going to put herself through that again just to play nice with the new girl. The shapeshifter wanted her to, but if Fizzy refused so vehemently, then it wouldn’t force her. That’s what being a partner meant, even if being defied was rather irksome. Though, Boxxy knew better than anyone it could never stay mad at Fizzy. She was too shiny for that.
“Alright,” it shrugged. “I guess we should get back to town and see if Nao can enchant that new hammer of yours before we leave. I’m still ordering the rest of you to escort Jen into the instant dungeon and enjoy yourselves, though.”
As ridiculous and open to interpretation as it was to command someone to have fun, it was not a concept beyond the realm of the summoning contract. Boxxy and Fizzy exchanged curt goodbyes with Jen before departing and leaving the other four to carry out their new ‘mission.’ The Monk wasted no more time and stepped through the swirling pink portal to see what the fuss was about.
[You have entered the Fun In The Sun instant dungeon.]
Right away she was made aware of the pocket dimension’s all-encompassing heat, especially the warm sand beneath her leathery soles. It felt surprisingly pleasant, enough to coax her to take a few steps forward as she got used to the sensation of stepping on this weirdly smooth sand. When she looked down at her feet, however, she made a startling discovery. All of her clothes except for her thigh-wraps had been replaced by a yellow two-piece swimsuit that left very little to the imagination. Well, it wasn’t as if her usual outfit was particularly modest to begin with, but these garments were more akin to water-resistant lingerie. At least the fabric was flexible, smooth, and comfortable to the touch, but that was hardly enough to make up for the bigger issue. Her magic-deflecting staff had turned into a comically large parasol.
“What happened to my equipment?” she asked the others.
“The dungeon forcibly changes you to a more, shall we say, ‘appropriate’ attire,” Xera answered from behind. “Don’t worry, your stuff will come back when you leave.”
Jen looked over her shoulder and noticed that the others also had their outfits swapped out. The archfiend was wearing a pure-white, slightly-sportier version of the Monk’s swimsuit without a single trace of her demonic armaments. The djinn was already practically naked, so she had been stripped of everything but her skimpy bottom, and her golden breast-band was replaced by a cloth version. In typical Xera fashion, it was a significantly sluttier look than either Jen or Kora, yet it still wasn’t the most revealing. Drea had drawn the short stick in that regard. The vast majority of her icy carapace aside from the parts that made up her hands, feet, and six scythe-tipped limbs was gone. The only sections of her ghostly pale skin that weren’t exposed to the salty air were her nether regions and nipples, covered in three obscenely thin strips of ice. All of her numerous limbs twitched and fidgeted far more than before, making her discomfort clear.
