Chương 190: CDM 4, Recap + Chapter 1: Meal Plans

Recap Dorion finally got his wish: Enforcer McDouglas revealed the purpose of the Unsung Heroes. With the level minimum for the team set at 20, Dorion can't start with them right away, so he follows through on becoming a Stage 2 Rapid Dungeon Surge Response Agent. Megan Osheski, co-founder of the Dungeon Divas, landed the same job. After some negotiating, Dorion's longtime friend Nathan "Kimmy" Meehan and new coworker Rania de Saint Gillies were offered positions on the same team.

With their group already sidestepping the norm for Rapid Dungeon Surge Response team composition, McDouglas limits the party to six instead of the usual mandatory eight. The CDM sent them to South America to level, which was where they met Giago and Hornby. Both were former Army. They were initially skeptical of Megan and Dorion but soon became reliable squadmates in their fight against the growing chaos of Stage 2 dungeon gates.

While Dorion's party took calls to hunt monsters in and around Pittsburgh, researchers discovered active mana, a previously undetected kind of mana that appears to correlate with the rise in gate difficulty and monster activity. Japan put a man on the moon. The man accused of assassinating Martin Kielar died during an escape attempt. George Baker announced he was running for governor just before his collection of crasher killing videos got leaked.

New Eden asked the United States for more funding in the wake of frequent monster attacks. The Heavenly Rock Baptist Church forced gate surges and released blight slime in New York, triggering evacuations. Stars of the reality show The Wilds: Race Asia encountered a community of local crawlers in what was once India, calling themselves the Kingdom of Assam.

They claimed to have members over level 40, which was believed to be impossible, and they proved it when other nations ignored the Kingdom's many requests to be left alone. A single mage killed over 100 people in an instant. Book 3 concluded with a post-trip celebration of a successful bugbear hunting trip. The Dungeon Divas saved a town from a bugbear invasion, but in so doing, revealed their identities as Dungeon Divas, triggering a massive exodus of subscribers who felt duped by the gender misdirect.

As Dorion wrestled with what the attention could mean for his personal and professional life, he learned that the werewolf community he promised to help would be put in quarantine or detention centers. Oh, and an E gate opened on the moon.

"Dorion?!" a voice called, echoing up the guild house back stairwell.

"Here," I yelled from my apartment floor. The room hadn't stopped spinning, but if I was already on the ground, at least I couldn't fall over. Nathan knocked on the door and opened it.

"Dude, you good? We turned around, and you were gone."

"That call I got was from McDouglas. Matewan is going to be 'quarantined,' which is fortunate for them because other werewolves are going to detention centers."

"What?" I nodded.

"All the shit we talked, and the exact thing they were afraid of is coming their way. Because of us." Nathan sat on the floor next to me and leaned against the wall. This was my living room, technically, but I didn't have any furniture.

"Fuck, man."

"Yeppp," I groaned.

"Hurray for the good guys."

"This isn't your fault. We did everything we could and then some."

"Did we, though?"

"Yeah, we did."

"Nope. That town was famous for coal miners starting a war for their rights. Me politely asking my boss for something is hardly 'everything' I could do."

"Are you talking about going back down there to fight with them or something?" Nathan asked.

"Just talk. I'm a pussy. I want to do the right thing, but I don't have the follow-through. I'll lie here and complain about it while those people suffer."

"How drunk are you?" I shrugged.

"Not drunk enough."

"I'll get you some water."

"Beer."

"Okay." When Nathan returned, he handed me a cup of water.

"You can't blame yourself for this."

"I'm in the Good Samaritan story, but I'm the guy who walks by the man who needs help. Why? Because my work said I wasn't allowed to help. I'm a good boy, so I obeyed. Kept walking."

"I don't think that comparison is fair."

"Fuck you. I was a Bible Quiz champion. Hear that? Champion. I know my shit."

"It's kind of weird how often you've brought up Bible Quiz over the years."

"Do you know who the oldest person in the Bible was?" I asked. I waited for an answer.

"Well, do you?"

"I'm shaking my head," Nathan answered aloud. Huh. When did I close my eyes?

"No," he continued.

"I do not know the oldest person in the Bible."

"Mother fucking Methuselah. 969. In your face, bitch." Chuckling softly, he replied, "Yeah, you sure showed me. Drink some water and get some sleep."

"Nate. Wait." Nathan stopped in the doorway. I knew he hated being called Nate.

"I'm sorry Kimmy died. She was a good woman, the best of us, really."

"Goodnight, Dorion." I woke with my face in the carpet and was pleased to find that drool was the only thing to have come out of my mouth during the night. What little bit of me was consciously aware of my bad decisions fully expected to be the first person to ruin the new guild house carpet. A little bit of good news was a nice change of pace. A new dilemma immediately presented itself. I smelled bacon. I wanted to eat that bacon. But the kitchen was so far away. I would never make it.

I could see the tweets in my mind. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"Dorion the Unkillable starved to death in his own apartment? We knew that guy was a piece of shit, but damn. That's sad." Rallying my strength, I climbed to my feet. My head hurt, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I expected it to be. Leaning into the wall the whole way to stay upright, I arrived at the kitchen. De Saint stood by the stove while Beth and Kwame sat at the table. Beth scooted a chair out and helped me sit.

"Too many Uncle Grays?" Kwame joked. The High Bar Pub, our usual haunt, had named a drink after me. It was orange juice and Grey Goose vodka.

"You know what the worst thing about that drink is?" I asked.

"What?"

"I fucking hate orange juice, like, it disgusts me."

"Really? Why?"

"Pulp." Kwame paused. Before Beth could stop him, he said, "You know they make pulp-free."

"There's no such thing!" I retorted.

"That's marketing bullshit. You can have less pulp, but no orange juice is pulp-free. Like, I don't want to chew my drink, thank you very much." Toast with strawberry jelly appeared in front of me.

"Give me a minute, and I'll make you some eggs," de Saint said, handing Beth and Kwame plates of eggs and bacon.

"You're the best."

"Nathan told us about last night, so don't feel like you have to talk about it."

"Thanks." Beth lit up and spoke through a mouthful of bacon.

"You missed Rainy's theory about how the Assamese are able to level so high." A hazy memory floated to the top of my mind. Just before I answered the call from McDouglas, Nathan bullied Rainy into sharing her explanation for how crawlers in the Kingdom of Assam were able to reach levels well beyond 30, a feat the modern world believed to be impossible. I was outside for all of that, however.

"Did she tell you that it was a hypothesis, not a theory?" I asked. My sister rolled her eyes while de Saint laughed behind me.

"I did," de Saint answered on her behalf.

"My dumb little hypothesis is based on no evidence whatsoever, but I'm betting it's nutrition. From what we saw, their primary sources of protein came from dungeon gates, which makes sense. If you're okay with eating monsters, the gates will keep you full. In terms of differences in lifestyles, that's the biggest one I've come up with."

"People have eaten monsters before," I countered.

"Are you familiar with carotenemia?"

"No, and take it easy on me, please. I'm still a little drunk, I think."

"Carotenemia is when your skin turns orange from eating too many carrots. Eat a lot of carrots over an extended period of time, and your skin gets a new hue. One big carrot dinner won't do it. Whatever monster meat does for XP, it could take a while to present. Someone trying dungeon squid once isn't enough."

"You're a genius," I said.

"Not at all. I've already seen a few other people on Reddit make the same guess."

"So much for lowering active mana levels."

"What do you mean?" Kwame asked. Instead of answering, I pointed at de Saint. With a sigh at my laziness, she replied, "Traffic in and out of gates releases more active mana than anything else, with the exception of a surge. If monster meat has this effect, harvest operations will only get bigger."

"Good point." When de Saint gave me food, I leaned forward and let the steam of fresh bacon and over-easy eggs warm my face. It felt nice. And tasted even better. Biting into a piece of crispy bacon instantly improved how awful I felt.

"Thank you for breakfast," I said.

"I mentioned that in my head earlier, but I don't know if I said it out loud, so, thank you."

"You're welcome." De Saint sat next to me with a plate of her own.

"Do you remember the moon?" Before I could answer, she whipped her head toward me and raised a finger.

"Don't be a smart ass. You know I'm talking about the news, not asking if you recall that the moon exists."

"I wouldn't have done that." Yes, I would have.

"But yeah, I remember a gate was found on the moon. Did I miss any developments?" De Saint shook her head.

"No, not really. I just think it's interesting that we brought mana to the moon, and a dungeon gate is the result."

"From the moon landing, you mean?"

"It's the only thing new to happen to the moon in forever. The timing is too perfect for it to be a coincidence." I tended to agree.

"If it surges, the monsters will just die, right? They need oxygen too."

"Not all monsters. Undead, elementals, ghost-types–Goblins will for sure die if a dungeon boots them out, but any of those could survive."

"Great."

"It's not like the moon was doing anything else. There's no danger in monsters being there, and we might learn something interesting by watching what mana does without oxygen or an atmosphere."

"There are no dangers that we know of." De Saint wobbled her head, thinking.

"Okay. Fair. But I think we have a few years before earth elementals invent space travel."

"Don't jinx it." A few minutes passed where forks and knives on plates were the only sounds in the kitchen. Beth broke the silence by asking me, "Up for taking a call today? Chrissy from Nad-Nade wants to talk about new projects while you're in the news. I get it if you don't want to, but I also didn't want to keep that from you."

"She's not pissed about our subscriber numbers?"

"Not at all. The controversy has driven a lot of traffic for them, apparently."

"Do you know any details about what she wants?" I asked.

"An updated look, a new commercial, and a bunch of interviews. She's trying to get Valcuree to do one remotely from wherever she is in Asia now. That's a long shot, though." Christ. That all sounded awful. But Nad-Nade was also our biggest sponsor, and my friends deserved to earn more money than they were.

"If the extra work comes with extra sponsorship dollars, sure. Negotiate whatever you think is best, and I'll do it." Beth frowned.

"Just like that?"

"Just like what?"

"It's not like you to be excited about influencer stuff." Kwame looked at his phone and excused himself, heading downstairs to take a call in private.

"I'm not excited about it," I said.

"If it will be good for the brand and it pays, I'll do it."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure, but I think I'm going back to bed for now." I rinsed my plate off and put it in the dishwasher.

"Thanks again for breakfast, Rainy."

"Feel better," she called down the hallway after me.

"Dorion, psst. Are you awake?" It was dark in my bedroom. How long had I been asleep?

"What is it?"

"Sorry, dude," Nathan replied.

"I'll come back later."

"Hey. I'm up. What's wrong?" He was little more than a silhouette in my doorway.

"There's some new werewolf drama, and I was worried you'd take it hard."

"What kind of drama?"

"A few vocal influencers accusing the Divas of exploiting werewolves for profit." Was this my life now? I really hoped not.

"Thanks for warning me," I said.

"I'm fine."

"Would you rather know or not know about this stuff? I can't tell." I thought for a moment.

"Dude? Did you go back to sleep?"

"No, I was thinking. I don't want to hear about comment sections or reaction videos unless it matters. Actual news is still fair game."

"Got it."

"Hey. What time is it?"

"Almost 3."

"Thanks." Nathan shut the door. I knew it was a bad idea, but I unlocked my phone and looked at all the stuff I just said I didn't want to know anything about. In minutes, I put my phone down. I wasn't built for casual death threats, discussions of my gender identity, and critiques of every detail of my life, from being a doomer to how I dressed and how I crawled. I should have never looked, but I knew I would look again. And again. And again.

No matter how valiantly my rational mind argued against it, I wouldn't be able to help myself. My phone buzzed. Beth had texted me.

"You can say no, but Chrissy can get you interviews today. If you're up for it." I wasn't.

"Sure. Can I have two hours? I just woke up."

"Yeah def. Let me know if you need anything." I needed another day of sleep and for everyone to forget my name. Since I was wishing for things that could never happen, I also needed the world to stop ending. I crawled out of bed and got in the shower, hoping I could wash away this feeling of being nothing but an evil fraud.