New Unus Town - 5:33 am

 

After Clara Dominguez had left the Townhall, Jane Andersen, The Administrator of Conduct repurposed the building. Thanks to her resources, she rebuilt it and fortified it in a day; now it looked like a prison fortress. A massive and jarring edification, contrasting the colorful houses and establishments at its surroundings.

The reason? The Affected were locked in the basement, those whose minds had been corrupted by The White Witch, the nickname given to Serenity by the townspeople.

A pair of guards stood guard on the rooftop, one sipping coffee and the other alcohol to remain awake and combat the yet chilly night.

“Hey,” one said, after sipping. “Have you ever wondered why are we here? Why do we exist?”

“Oh, please, stop. I’m not in the mood for--” the man frowned at the sight of something bright in the distance. It looked like a tiny glowing dot flying on the city outskirts. He squinted while enhancing his sight with mana. “What is that?”

“What is what?” the other asked, following the direction of his gaze.

It took them a couple of seconds to realize what was happening. “Go tell the boss.”

“W-what?! No way! She’ll pulverize me!”

“She said that we could wake her up in case of an emergency, right?”

“Why don’t you do it then?!”

“Fine, freaking chicken. Go see what you can find out about that in the meantime.”

Both robe-wearing soldiers nodded at each other and took separate ways.

The man in charge of waking up the boss took down the stairs in a hurry, while feeling his hands sweaty. When he arrived at her door, he could feel his heart thumping like crazy.

“Okay, I can do it…” He exhaled before knocking at the door. “Sister Grace? Sister Grace! We have an--!”

The door opened, letting a beam of light come out, hitting the soldier in the chest. The man got sent flying to the streets, leaving behind a human-sized hole in the building.

“Shut up, it’s not even dawn yet,” a woman of dark skin said, exiting the room in her underwear. She followed the path of destruction and jumped down to the street to speak with his injured subordinate. “Sleeping keeps you beautiful, you know? So I need my eight-hour sleep to preserve my unquestionable beauty.”

She then sat atop the man’s chest, covering his burn wounds with her butt.

He could do nothing but wince. “S-sorry to disturb you, S-Sister Grace, but--”

She placed her bare foot on his mouth to shut him up. “I’ve already told you, while Jane is not here, call me Miss Grace. Should I punish you even more?”

“It won’t happen again, M-Miss Grace…”

“Speak, then. It better be something good, or else…”

“A Max-Level User…” The man hissed while glancing at his decaying HP bar in his sight of vision. “Is fighting an army of what seemed to be NPCs…”

“Where?”

“Northeast… One and a half miles from here…”

The woman pouted her lips while looking at the man’s pale, distressed face. “That sounds like something worth investigating.” She sighed, stood up, and turned around, giving him a first-row-view of her round butt and white lacy thong.

“W-worth it…” he muttered.

“Equip Set ‘J’,” she gave a voice command to her User Interface. “J for Justice…”

The system equipped her with a completely white outfit: Knee-height heeled boots, a dress, a robe with golden embellishments, and a priestess coif.

“Are you still lying there like an idiot?” she said, absently waving her hand, casting the Quick Fix spell without channeling or pronouncing the Words of Power. 

“T-thanks, Miss Grace,” the man said, standing up in a hurry.

“Where is Brother Bruno?”

“He’s already at the city’s outskirts, evaluating the situation, ma’am.”

“I’ll go see what’s going on, then. Protect the Townhall in my absence, and patch up that hole before I get back or a citizen sees it. It gives the Church of Conduct a bad image. Understood?”

“Y-yes… Miss Grace…”

Sister Grace dashed forward at full speed, reaching the hill Brother Bruno was standing in, in a matter of seconds. Although the fire was far away, the explosions would surely start alerting the citizens soon.

“Sis--M-Miss Grace,” he saluted her, as she watched the terrain a mile away getting leveled.

“What have you found?” Grace asked.

“A Max-Leveler by the name of Amelia Laflamme, from the Phantom Seekers guild, is fighting what seems to be an… an army of clones…” He said cautiously, meeting her glare.

“A what now?”

“Just take a look.” Bruno enlarged the system window he was consulting and tapped the shared visualization button. “The enemy is called Count Dylak. He’s level 40. According to the database, his name coincides with that of the final boss from this area’s first dungeon.”

“Count Dylak…” Grace repeated, examining the NPC’s picture. “That sounds familiar. Wait, did you say that this Amelia gal is fighting an army of…?”

A pair of Dylak Duplicates jumped down in front of them, already on their Second Form, which made them seem bulkier and monstrous.

Grace fell on her back, as the memory of the first dungeon raid she ever joined crept out of the deepest parts of her mind. She could see herself again traversing through creaky corridors, getting her first treasures, and fighting for her life against monsters disguised as humans. 

Finally, she remembered the face of the man in front of her. An image of him, surrounded by flames, had been stuck in her mind for weeks, during those first Novus days. 

“I-it’s really him!” she cried, as the Duplicates read their levels. 

“You’re not our objective,” both said, passing them through.

“T-they’re going towards the town!” Bruno shouted, preparing a spell, as Grace shook her head and slapped her own cheeks.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” she shouted, reaching out her hand. “Radiance!”

She cast an instantaneous blinding light out of her palm that disintegrated both Duplicates in an instant. The magical attack was the equivalent of a shotgun shot. 

How could I let myself be afraid of these mobs?!

She then sprinted towards the battlefield, ignoring the shouts of her partner. On her way, she could see the aforementioned Max-Leveler flying 650 feet above, casting one fire spell after another. Her only distinguishable feature was her blue hair.

Grace pursed her lips while looking forward. She would meet the enemy in a moment.

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“Opening Vault! Come forth: Justice Provider!” she cast, making a platinum staff appear out of a portal keeping her running pace.

A stampede of Dylak bosses was charging their way towards New Unus Town. 650 feet away from Grace.

Long time no see, Dylak, and goodbye! She halted while pointing her staff to the heavens. I’m no longer a rookie-level-seven, you know? So good riddance!

“Grand Light Crafting!” she started channeling, as three magic circles manifested above her staff. “Holy Persecutio!”

A pillar of light reached the clouds, before fragmenting itself into many slimmer tentacles. These sought every single Dylak in the area, and pierced their chest without failing, no matter how many times the Duplicates tried to dodge.

Amelia watched the spectacle unfold and noticed that some clones had sneaked away and almost reached the town. “Who did this?” she asked herself, finding the woman wearing a white habit below. “An Administrator’s lapdog, huh?”

Amelia descended, and once her feet touched the ground, her blue hair turned red again.

“You, explain yourself,” Grace asked as soon as they met eyes. “Where did these clones come from?”

“A Moderator! Good. I’d like to report an anomaly.” Amelia pointed towards the direction the stampede was coming from. “There’s something weird going--”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Grace said softly, touching Amelia’s chin with the tip of her staff. “Just answer my question, and I’ll decide what the best course of action will be next. But if I find out you did this…”

Amelia snickered after glancing at the woman’s emblem on her chest: Two shaking hands.

“A Moderator of Conduct, huh? I don’t think you’ll be of much help, anyway.” Amelia sneered. “And how would I be able to copy and paste a bunch of bosses?”

Grace was about to reply but made a hissing sound instead, showing her teeth. After sighing, she put away her staff. “I’m Grace Reed, Moderator of Conduct. Tell me what you know, and I may be able to contact the Glitch Administrator. Because, this…” She turned her gaze towards the dozens of smoking craters her attack left behind. “It’s not normal.”

“Fine, I’ll oblige,” Amelia said, folding her arms. “Are you familiar with Count Dylak’s Mansion?”

“As familiar as any User that started her adventure here, in Unus Town,” Grace said, shrugging, before tilting her head. “Why?”

* * *

 

“Stupid ‘Direct Line’…” Ricardo Silva whispered as a ringing sound woke him up, demanding his attention. Although his room had the lights turned off, the hundreds of video screens occupying every inch of the walls illuminated his bed. He rubbed his eyes before checking the hour. “Yeah, yeah, what is it? Wait, first of all, who is this?”

“Thanks for taking my call, Glitch Administrator. I’m Grace Reed, Moderator of Conduct. Trust me, I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t something important.”

“We’ll see about that,” Ricardo said, walking towards his desk, where he found a half-filled cup of coffee. He grimaced after taking a sip. “Dammit, it’s cold.”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s this emergency of yours, Grace Reed?” Ricardo asked as he slid the mug’s temperature to hot.

“Well… I don’t even know if this can even be considered an emergency…”

“You surely do, or you wouldn’t have called.”

“My apologies, sir. Let me phrase this as clearly as possible… Um… We may have a malfunctioning dungeon.”

“What is it doing? Have all the treasure chests turned into ‘mimics’? Is someone locked inside? Is a boss saying something inappropriate again?”

“No, sir. A dungeon is cloning its entire boss repertoire. They even have the ability to exit their domains…”

Ricardo Silva frowned while sipping. “That’s new… Fine. What’s the name of that dungeon? I’ll check it out.”

“Count Dylak Mansion. Eurola Region.”

“Got it,” Ricardo said, skimming through the info provided by the system. “Hmm… That’s odd.” He enlarged the map of the area and enabled other windows to show its statistics. Soon, his tired eyes gradually opened wide. “HUH?! What the hell is this?!

“Sir? Is everything--?”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Mod! Don’t you dare say it!” Ricardo Silva shouted, rising from his seat as a wail escaped his lips. “WHO THE HELL GAVE A DUNGEON DIRECTOR ADMINISTRATIVE POWERS?!”

* * *

 

“M-a-e-r… Ma-s-r… Master… Master, are you okay?”

Alan opened his eyes, finding Anastasia crouching beside him. Her 

“Hi, my kuudere maid. You’re finally here.”

“Glad that you’re okay, Master. Although I’m not familiar with the term ‘kuudere’.”

“Picture Ashley in your head and you’ll get it.”

“Understood, Master. Bella is here too. Is there something we could do for you?”

“Yes,” Alan whispered as Anastasia helped him stand up. “Girls? Would you be so kind as to help me kick that son of a bitch’s ass?”

“If you’re referring to Count Dylak, of course, Master.”

“That sounds like fun!” Bella said, clapping. “What’s the plan?”

“Aaron?”

“Yes, Alan?” his Anima responded, materializing.

“Diagnose them.”

“Although they’re injured from their previous battles, they seemed to be in perfect condition to fight. Bella’s mana is already recovering, and Anastasia’s health is steadily regenerating. Bella gained 3 levels since the last time we saw her, and Anastasia 2 levels.”

“Buff them.”

“The ‘Extended Guarantee’ Passive Skill is already active.”

Alan exhaled while watching the mansion’s lobby. It looks way different than hours ago, and it looks the same at the same time.

Alan opened his User Interface and checked his current level. I’m level 11 now, huh?

“Let’s go girls, we have a boss to kill.”

 

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