Dungeon Item Shop - Chapter 6

The growl of her stomach is the first sensation that Fresh feels, as wakefulness returns to her stiff body, which has drifted in and out of sleep all night long. It appears to be daytime now. She can’t see any of the people on the other side, but the aura of the foggy city, visible behind the dungeon barrier, is brighter now; as if the morning sun were rising on the other side. Fresh stretches out, looking around herself. Apparently she had survived the night. Though, judging by the ache in her own back, she isn’t so sure if it was worth it. With wobbly legs, she pushes herself up off of the wall and looks around. Now what?

Her stomach growls and she leans back. When was the last time she ate something? If her last life counts, which she doubts since she had a new body and stomach, it was maybe the third day now, worst case? Maybe this body has just never eaten at all ever though. She feels weak on her legs, even weaker than before. She sighs and ponders, what can she do?

She needs to eat something. To eat something, she needs money. To get money, she needs something to trade for money. To get something to trade for money, she has to have… something. Some skill, talent or practice to sell or to use. But… she looks at her pale, shaky hands. There isn’t anything she knows how to do. Not really. There are some vague things that she can think of on the spot, that could maybe be useful in a fantasy world like this. Things like the concepts of engines or electricity. But… she has no idea how to make any of them, so even if she knows of their existence, it’s basically all pointless for right now. Ideas are worthless if you can’t apply them.

No. She needs something more… concrete. Fresh looks down the steps again. The dungeon is the only way for her to make money, but she won’t even be able to defeat the first and easiest creature here alone. There isn’t a chance and she doubts that anyone would help her for no pay. So, what to do? Her stomach growls. She could go out and beg? She’s sure that she could get some coins or some scraps or anything. She didn’t need much. Her eyes look at the portal.

But that’s not what she had wished for. What she wanted. What she was sent here to do; if there was any such defined cosmic purpose. Was there? She doubts it and looks back down the stairs, opting to walk down them instead, grabbing a torch again on the way. The same window from before pops up, telling her that she has the torch in her hand, which seems a little redundant, all things considered. But it is what it is.

Standing at the bottom of the staircase, she looks at the rooted wall, where the mushroom creature had come out from last time. A soft voice is carried out of the dark hole.

*Nyaaaaaaa~*

She narrows her eyes, the cooing sound reminds her of someone who is asleep. The girl looks around herself, wondering what to do. The torch in her hand glows brightly, the dancing flames catch her eye and she stares at it, mesmerized and lost for a moment. The roots? Could they be burnt? She stares at them, no. No, it’s unlikely. The earthen walls beyond the stone bricks look damp and wet, so the roots are probably full of water. It was no good she thinks, as she returns her gaze to the dark hole just below the roots. The one way tunnel. Wait.

Wait!

Her eyes shoot open as a plan comes to her, that’s it! It could work! There were way more than enough! Stepping up the steps again, she grabs another torch in her free hand and then returns down to the bottom and creeps towards the hole.

*Nyaaaaa~”

Fresh quietly peers down, staring at the mushroom silhouette that is leaned back in the hole, snuggly nested against the far wall. Its eyes are closed, still fast asleep. Her plan seemed a little cruel, but… it did kill her. So, it was only fair, right? Fresh nods to herself. It had to be done. She sets the magically burning torches down and then runs to grab another two more from the walls and then, after adding them to her pile, another two. The light was starting to come together, the thing inside the hole begins stirring

*Nyaa-* It yawns *Nyaaaaah~?*

Fresh grabs the torches one by one and hurls them into the entrance of the little knee-high tunnel, blocking it off with the burning flames that all meet together in the center.

*NYAAAAH!* yells the mushroom creature, now wide awake and having seen the intruder. It looks at her knowingly, it recognizes her. She looks at it and nods, their eyes meet, both filled with fresh morning focus and determination. It crawls forward, moving from the back of the crevice. Fresh grabs another two torches and stacks them on the front by the others. The creature backs off a bit, letting out another angry *Nyah!* as the flames lick its exterior with a hiss.

The battle window returns and Fresh stares smugly at the little mushroom monster that she had cornered. It can’t escape, she has it now. She pushes the torches in further into the hole, wondering what fire-roasted giant mushrooms taste like. Her stomach growls.
“I hope you’re tasty, Mr. Mushroom,” she says, wagging a finger smugly at it from outside of the hole.

*NYAAAAAAAAAH!”

The mushroom creature screams, as it thrashes around inside of the death-trap. Its health points steadily depleting, as the heat pushes its way inside, collecting as would heat in an oven and burning the trapped creature slowly to death. Fresh leans forward, staring at the little monster that looks back at her; its eyes shining in the firelight, as their gazes meet and lock over the flames. It wasn’t anything personal, they both know that. It is what it is. But she does feel a little bad. Somewhat uncertainly now, Fresh pushes the torches in further, it screams and presses itself back against the wall, as its health points slowly sink down to zero from the fire damage.

*NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAH...~*