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1.2.A [The Trial by Murder]

  The stairway leading down from the portal seemed deceptively ordinary. I couldn't shake the impression that these goblins hadn't merely stolen an entrance from somewhere, they had somehow shifted an entire subway station from its original location. It seemed impossible, but then again, so did the world somehow suddenly ending and stepping through a portal in the first place. Still, the stairs seemed to stretch endlessly downward far longer than they should have. But, at least it wasn't cold inside. The air was still and strangely mild, and a few battered lights overhead flickered fitfully, casting long, broken shadows across the walls.

  I scanned my surroundings for any sign of human presence, particularly the mother and daughter who had entered before me. I had assumed we'd all end up in the same place, but their continued absence implied something else entirely.

  Perhaps these stairs weren't quite what they appeared. Maybe each of us was being funneled to an entirely separate destination. It was merely a guess, like groping blindly for answers in the darkness.

  My footsteps echoed hollowly as I came to an abrupt halt before a sign mounted on the wall.

  The characters were unmistakably Japanese, that much I could recognize, but their meaning remained an indecipherable mystery. Probably just the station name... The first set of stairs terminated at what resembled a payment platform, the kind where commuters would typically swipe their cards or tickets to proceed deeper into a train station.

  The area looked disturbingly abandoned, with barely working lights and broken glass scattered across the floor. There was no sign of people here either.

  The voice in my head, calling itself the passenger, was also suspiciously quiet now. I could only wonder how it had slithered into my consciousness, or if all the pressure had finally made me go mad and I had started hearing and seeing things.

  On the contrary. The goblin had called the place a dungeon. Yet, nothing about this abandoned subway station whispered "dungeon" to me in any way whatsoever. No damp stone walls. No torch sconces. No iron-barred cells.

  I remember, my parents were once obsessed with D&D, running elaborate campaigns that stretched late into the night. Naturally, I wasn't allowed to join, of course. But that didn’t stop me from picking up bits and pieces. Eventually, Tyler, David, and I made our own campaigns. We weren't exactly good at it, but we played enough to get the rules down, to build worlds in our heads and set out on grand adventures. That was before everything changed, of course. Before they decided it was more fun to make me the target instead of the hero. I pushed those unpleasant memories away, burying the bitterness deep down where it belonged. Thinking about it wasn't going to help me now.

  I shifted my attention back to the present. The black and white clock bolted to the wall, its cracked glass splintering into a web of lines, was frozen at seven o’clock. It wasn't ticking anymore. Back when I'd left school, it should have been closer to five in the evening.

  But if this station was really from Japan, assuming that insane thought about the portal was even close to true, maybe the time difference explained it? I had no idea what the time difference even was. And honestly, I didn’t care. There was a time when visiting Japan would have been a dream like any other boy or girl of my age. But that was a long time ago, when things still held a shine for me. Lately, not much did.

  Clink!

  Out of nowhere, the sharp, metallic sound of something small and hard hitting the ground snapped me upright, making my heart jump into my throat. Every muscle tensed as I turned my head slowly, half-praying it was just a piece of debris giving up the fight against gravity.

  A short distance away, crouched at a broken ticket machine, was something that looked like it had clawed its way straight out of a nightmare. The creature… no, the monster… was about the size of my fist and grotesquely thin, like skin stretched tight over a skeleton. It was humanoid, but its color was an unnatural white, and its black, glassy eyes were each as big as grapes, staring at me without blinking. On its hunched back fluttered a set of insect-like wings, translucent and ragged like an old cicada’s.

  Above it, glowing faintly, words suddenly appeared in the air like some video game HUD:

  Toot Fairy. Level 3.

  And then, the Passenger’s voice, soft and dry, like a scalpel gliding across skin:

  Congratulations! You’ve stumbled into your second monster already. Not bad, considering you still trip over your own feet.

  On Earth, fairy tales painted creatures like this as either gentle helpers or wicked tricksters. In the Dungeon, there's no bedtime story nonsense - only survival. These little goblins of the Depth aren’t big on moral dilemmas. They are big on collecting shiny objects. And occasionally, fleshy ones. This particular horror is part of a charming gang called the Bone Fairies. Their hobby? Starting with your teeth. Then, slowly, methodically, working their way down until you’re nothing but a meat sock with regrets.

  Anyway. Best of luck. Try not to scream too loud, it attracts more of them.

  Holy fuck... The small monstrosity's large obsidian eyes swiveled toward me, locking onto my face. Here I used to thought the fairies were supposed to be very pretty? But, the thing was ugly as hell, anyway - I wasn’t planning on marrying the damn thing, so there wasn’t much point in dwelling on that. All that mattered now was the thought hammering away in my brain: Is it going to attack? According to the Passenger, these things had a particular hobby of pulling out the bones of their victims. Piece by piece. And there it was, a living, breathing monster that could fly, and here I was, standing there like an idiot with nothing but my sneakers and a soggy hoodie. It wasn't exactly a fair match.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Not that I had any illusions about being some badass fighter. If I were tough, I would've fought back against Tyler and David and the others. Instead, I'd spent too many afternoons locked in school closets, trying not to cry where they could hear me. The thought burned, but it was the truth.

  The stairs behind me had vanished sometime ago, leaving me stranded on this platform. The area itself was spacious enough, but I couldn't spot any alcove or maintenance room where I could hide from those hungry black eyes. The only escape route appeared to be the stairs descending further down into the dungeon. I squinted back at the Tooth Fairy. It had abandoned the ticket machine, its tiny mouth working furiously as it muttered in some scratchy, goblin-like language. I had no idea what it was saying, and I didn't plan to stick around to find out.

  I ran.

  I bolted like my life depended on it, feet slapping wetly against the slick ground, hood flapping behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Tooth Fairy lift off, wings buzzing like a demented mosquito. It closed the distance like a bullet, and before I could even think, it landed square on my back.

  I stumbled, almost going down face-first on the concrete. The thing clung to me. It was like someone had tied a pissed-off demon baby to my shoulders. I could feel its claws digging into the fabric of my hoodie, pricking my skin underneath.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screamed, thrashing like a maniac, arms swinging wildly as I tumbled down the steps. My body felt like a washing machine spinning with bricks inside.

  I tried to swat it off, but the thing was too fast, too slippery. But, at least my frantic flailing somehow kept it from sinking its teeth directly into my neck, which I figured was a small victory.

  “Hey! You in there?” I bellowed at the voice inside my head. “Say something, dammit!”

  There was no response. I gritted my teeth in both fear and frustration, fumbling for my backpack. There was nothing particularly useful inside, but I frantically emptied my few notebooks onto the stairs, scattering paper everywhere. The tooth fairy continued its high-pitched cursing behind my back in its incomprehensible language while I swung my emptied backpack around blindly, hoping to connect with something.

  On pure luck, the bag connected with a solid thwack.

  The Tooth Fairy made a hideous screech as it flew off my back, slamming against the nearest wall with a crunch that I felt more than heard. It slid down the wall slowly, leaving a greasy smudge, its jaw hanging half-loose and its bug eyes rolling around like marbles knocked off a table.

  I didn’t stop running until I was a good few meters away, gasping and wheezing like an asthmatic eighty-year-old. I dropped to my knees, clutching my chest, fighting to get air into my burning lungs.

  I risked a glance back. From my position, the tooth fairy appeared dead, limp, crumpled, twitching once in a while like a bug hit with raid. But something about the slow rise and fall of its chest told me otherwise. It wasn’t dead. Just out cold. One of its delicate wings was snapped at an ugly angle, hanging uselessly from its bony back. Which meant now it wouldn’t be buzzing after me like some psycho mosquito from hell.

  I pushed myself up on shaking legs, gathering what pitiful scraps of courage I had left, and took a careful, tentative step toward the crumpled thing. It twitched a little, a spasm running down its skeletal frame, but it didn’t get up.

  And that’s when I heard it - a stupidly theatrical drumroll, like someone slapping their hands on a tabletop in excitement. Then, at last, the Passenger decided to grace me with its presence again, its voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

  New Achievement Unlocked: Baby’s First Bloodbath.

  By successfully inflicting damage on your first mob, you’ve officially started your trial. Go you! Really setting the world on fire over here.

  There was a long, thoughtful pause, like the passenger was giving me time to process that absolutely earth-shattering achievement. Then, when it spoke again, the tone had shifted into full-blown late-night infomercial slime:

  As a reward, you’ve been granted access to the cutting-edge, reliable Neural Overlay System (NOS)!

  Cobbled together by yours truly, the Passenger, this feature lets you see thrilling statistics like Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom, Charisma, Luck, and so much more!

  Terms and conditions apply: The Passenger assumes no legal, moral, or cosmic responsibility for the accuracy of displayed values. Marginal errors may occur due to data being ripped directly from the rider’s — that’s you — primitive brain.

  Also, attributes that are catastrophically low may be hidden altogether. You're welcome.

  I blinked at nothing, dead-eyed, while the words rolled over me like an avalanche. Part of me wanted to yell at the Passenger, to demand why it hadn't said anything when I was getting mauled a few seconds ago. The other part was still too busy trying not to pass out from adrenaline crash.

  And then, without warning, it appeared.

  "Oh, so there really is a menu."

  A faint shimmer spread across my vision, like the moment when you stand up too fast and the world tips sideways, only this time, it stabilized into something coherent. A floating display hovered just at the edge of my sight, not quite blocking my view but somehow demanding my attention all the same. Neon blue text and simple bars glowed faintly against the grimy backdrop of the subway station.

  It read:

  [Neural Overlay System (NOS) Activated]

  Strength: 5

  Dexterity: 7

  Constitution: 4

  Intelligence: 6

  Wisdom: 5

  Charisma: 4

  Luck: ?

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