A web made of decades old pantyhose shot out from a [Fabric Ant]'s rump and flew towards Alex. He looked left and ducked a swiping shot of acid covered jeans. Just before the net of clothing grasped him, he aimed his exit point right next to another ant and shot a [Phantom Step].

The net wrapped around a horde of the Monsters and caused them to pile up in a heap. Rock blared in his ears, and he grinned wide as he activated [Planar Skating] at the perfect time. Coming through the other side, his physical form flowed in a crescent from the combo. Like a pylon on ice, he whizzed around the ant that stumbled over its own six legs. As it tried to track him, he laughed into compound eyes and fired a finger gun before striding and activating the combo again.

One, two, three combos in a row he weaved through the giant fabric ants with his new combo as if he skated over the floor. Except he was a blur of motion, teleportation, flaming feet, and don't forget the waft of the best pizza in the city. With the challenge of a horde of ant monsters and their various weapons, it forced his brain into focus mode.

Out the last combo, he slid over the floor and tried to catch the grip of the ground. He had slightly misplaced his last glide combo and was headed right into an ant's snapping pincers made of belt buckles.

Looking left and right quickly, he realized there was no easy way out. Each direct was another cluster of discount clothing repurposed into death. Glancing down, he noticed the floor wasn't rough concrete or stone. It was clean linoleum tile that department stores loved to use. Smooth and silky. Had someone polished these recently?

"Oh, these prices are cheap, but would you guys believe I can go even lower?" He said while getting his feet under him.

Nice. Not a bad line.

He rushed straight at Buckle Mouth, pushing [Running] as hard as he could. Just as the Monster lunged, he dropped to his knees and pulled the pizza close to his chest. He slid across the tile like it was glass, right under its assembled belly, flames still blazing at his heels as the pincers snapped just above his head.

"Limbo time, baby!" he whooped and skidded out the other side.

Right into the waiting gaster of another ant. He was headed right toward the gaster, the back side of the ant, that swelled like a balloon. It ruptured and fired a volley of sharpened coat hangers dripping with smoking acid. The whistled through the air and headed right for his face.

"Not the face!" He yelled and fired off a [Phantom Step] straight up.

Due to his momentum, he came out the other side of the teleport and continued sailing through the air forward. Over the ant he went, but the sign dangling from the ceiling promising rock bottom prices clapped him in the forehead.

"I said not the face!" He yelled as he flew over the ant and made sure to get his feet underneath him.

He landed hard but didn't falter. The Monsters began spinning towards him, but he'd gotten past the horde. It was a massive room, and he'd streaked past at least a hundred of them in record time. Combining [Planar Skating] and [Phantom Step] was awesome.

"I'm basically a one-man delivery rocket." He nodded to himself while dabbing his forehead to make sure the sign hadn't drawn blood.

But the swarm wasn't dumb. They adjusted and tracked him quickly to begin charging him again.

"Anyone know where I can find where I can find the discount cat-treadmills? Maybe retro luxury purses? No?" He clicked his tongue. "Damn, I guess I'll have to look for myself, then."

He cracked his neck and casually fired off [Phantom Step] without moving. He blinked forward and hit the floor running towards the exit to the next layer of Honest Ed's.

Instantly he spotted the sign of goods once sold here that now wanted to kill him. The sign was hand painted in orange:

KITCHENWARE – BEST PRICES IN TOWN

A barrage of plates launched from shelves and shattered as he ducked, rolled and twisted through them. One plate clipped him in the ankle, which stung. He vaulted a countertop as a cast-iron amalgamation tried to barrel tackle him. Instead, it exploded against a display of fine China. The delicate porcelain remained undamaged while the cast iron bent all over.

Clusters of forks and steak knives swirled in a tornado of rust and spikiness. They clattered so loudly that it sounded like an angry metal hornet nest. A few dodges and two [Phantom Step]s later, he escaped out of the range of the vortex that tore apart everything in its path. No way he was getting close to that. A mound of Tupperware in the shape of a massive boulder filled with fake spaghetti and plastic steaks streamed towards him. That was easy to dodge.

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He blasted through the next doorway and was met with a staircase. "What?" He yelled as he launched up five flights. "Five floors? Literally how? It's only three stories tall on the outside. That's cheating!"

Honest Ed's was known for being a winding Dungeon. Multiple warehouses connected by staircases and tunnels. As he ascended the final flight, he glanced at the remaining time of his delivery.

[Deliver the Pizza to the Customer – Time Remaining: 46:12]

Finally at the top, he was about to push through to the next layer of Dungeon when the old intercom system cracked throughout the department store. An old speaker sputtered before a throaty voice filled the air.

"Attention shoppers," the woman who sounded like a cigarette said. "There has been a spill up ahead. Try not to slip and fall. There are no lawyers who will win that lawsuit."

The announcement echoed in the stairway. Then came the sound of a long drag and a chuckle.

"And Alex? No stealing," she added. "I have no patience for it. I do want to see if you're really the right delivery boy for my old friend Nina, though."

Static laughed. "I hope you're ready for a challenge."

Alex gulped as he stared at the metal door ahead. Whatever was on the other side didn't sound terrible, but so far, the Dungeon had been easy. He wanted to live up to the Boss's expectations. Not out of self-consciousness. With his developments, he was getting better and better. The growth was addictive, and each delivery made him stronger. If the Boss wanted to test his mettle, then he'd take it on and stride through. The pizza would be delivered on time.

After a quick breath, he pushed open the door to the next phase of Honest Ed's.

"Oh, shit. I didn't know you sold workout gear here! This store has everything!"

As Alex started running, Mr. Mystical activated his Skill [Superficial Access].

A little tear, just large enough for a mouse and book, ripped the Dungeon's Domain. From the unspace, he stared into an empty hallway from the ceiling. Somewhere, he heard Honest Freeda giggle from her lair as she enjoyed watching Alex's run. The Boss was distracted, and it was the perfect time to break in.

With the portal complete, he waited alone and marveled at how low he had gone. But what was done was done. It was time to get his Gary back, for better or worse.

Behind Mr. Mystical, the [Cursed Bracelet] hummed and pushed more of itself into the vulnerable ghost. He had been its real target all along.

Emilio sat politely on the windowsill of his bedroom and looked out into the night. A few pesky birds swooped too closely around his yard and pushed their luck. The birds knew damn well that the backyard, and whole neighbourhood for that matter, belonged to him as well. But he dared not get distracted by their attention seeking ways. There was much more important prey on the horizon.

A rustle sounded from one of the bushes in the yard, and without lifting his head from cleaning his paw, he flattened his ears as a response. Petal, hiding in said bush, rustled back again three times.

The prey was close, then. Spotted by Scout Gnomes scattered across the city.

Standing, he stretched his bulk and made sure to tear up some of the wooden windowsill with his [Murder Mittens]. Deep grooves tore free easily and spilled outside. Then with far more grace than what was expected from a thirty-pound cat, he walked out the window as if he was going for a leisurely afternoon jaunt.

Despite dropping like a bowling ball, he landed silently and gracefully onto the dried leaves. After dozing all day under the toasty blanket, he felt right as rain. The seven cans of tuna he'd tore open in the kitchen helped alongside the five licks of water from the running tap Gravewhistle had so graciously assisted with.

His [Divine Feline Sight] dilated his pupils. Pushing again, he sent his vision to stretch up into the sky to stretch across the fences, brush, and alleys of the neighbourhood.

He spotted the thing that pretended to be a cat slinking through the dark. Right on schedule. Emilio's whiskers twitched and a low rumble built in his chest. He could use a little exercise. The Gnomes weren't the only one's who should have all the fun. If the thing wanted to be a cat, then he would treat it as such. It too would learn that the neighbourhood, and in fact, all of sun and shade belonged to him.

Yet he must still protect his pack mates. The thing was coming to tussle tonight for a reason. Emilio had pieced it all together, of course. His eyes saw all.

"Meow." He ordered quietly.

The bush where a few Gnomes hid rustled back. He saw one plunge into the earth to connect their temporary hideout to the vast network of underground tunnels. Emilio was proud to see that no light spilled out. All the training he'd had Petal put them through was paying off.

"Goodluck, sir," Petal whispered from his hiding place. "Not that you need it. We will alert Nina immediately. And his mate."

Then his Steward flung himself into the tunnel. Emilio was sad to see them go, as he would have liked a few of his subjects to witness him battle. It was good to remind them occasionally of the power of his veritable girth. They would fulfill their duty, of that he had no doubt. But he did not enjoy being a solitary cat. He liked his people.

Emilio wrapped his tail around his body and waited. The pesky, circling birds settled on different nooks and footholds. Some audience was better than no audience, he supposed. And once he dealt with the fake cat, he had one more annoying bit of prey to take care of.

Idiots, the lot of them, thinking they could mess with his chosen companion. Alex was his human. A cat like Emilio would only ever choose the one.

"HISS." He hissed at the watching birds, sending a few flapping away in fear. Good to remind them too.

He sniffed the air and picked out the fetid stink of the fake cat. Offensive. A true cat would never allow themselves to become so unclean.

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