I stepped into the "final dungeon," fully bracing myself for the usual: dark sky, creepy mist, bloodcurdling screams echoing in the distance.
You know, standard apocalypse stuff.
Instead?
It was...a night city.
Full moons hanging overhead like fancy ceiling lights, streets paved neatly, lampposts glowing.
Pedestrians casually strolling around.
Pedestrians who were...Goblins.
Lots and lots of Goblins.
And no, they weren't attacking.
They were doing boring pedestrian things. Shopping, texting, arguing about parking spots.
Dead serious.
There, at the center of it all, a giant shopping mall proudly stood with a neon sign flashing:
"Buy or Die Shopping Maul: Everything Half Dead, Half Price!"
A giant neon sign flickered overhead, buzzing like it was one bad wire away from exploding.
I walked inside.
Because obviously, when faced with a place literally advertising death as a shopping perk, the smart move is to waltz right in like an idiot with a coupon.
The sliding doors hissed open with all the warmth of a coffin lid.
Inside?
Picture a regular mall.
Now set it at midnight, throw in some goblins wearing tragic retail uniforms, crank the creepy music up to "haunted karaoke night," and sprinkle a light dusting of existential dread.
Welcome to hell.
Enjoy your stay. No refunds.
The smell of popcorn, perfume, and impending violence hit me like a truck.
Inside, Goblins were hosting promotional events.
— Goblin Makeup Sales: "Become 5% less ugly!"
— Goblin Perfumes: "Smell 10% less like graveyard!"
Special Promotion:
> "Spend 10,000 Ancient Coins and get a FREE massage from a Hobgoblin Lady!"
I gagged a little inside. Hard pass.
And then I spotted her.
The Marketing Manager.
An Ogre the size of a delivery truck, wearing a hideous business suit two sizes too small.
Her name tag proudly read:
"Hi! I'm Bubbles :)"
Because obviously the bloodthirsty murder-orge would be named Bubbles.
The rules, according to a system pop-up that graciously appeared:
[Warning: If you don't buy anything, Manager Bubbles will kill you.]
[Reminder: If you DO buy anything, she'll skin you alive. Choose wisely!]
Thanks, system.
You're a real bro.
stared at Manager Bubbles.
She stared back, smiling like a DMV worker who hated her life and mine.
Clearly, I needed a plan.
Clearly, I didn't have one.
My options were:
A) Buy something, get skinned.
B) Buy nothing, get smashed into goblin street pizza.
Option C?
Bullsh*t my way through it.
I raised my hand awkwardly.
"Uh, excuse me? I have a coupon."
Manager Bubbles blinked.
The goblin shoppers turned to look at me like I just farted in church.
"A...coupon?"
Bubbles rumbled, her voice making the ground vibrate.
"Yeah. You know. Limited time offer. Buy one soul, get one free."
For a second, a dangerous second, I thought she was going to rip my arms off.
Then—
The system dinged:
New Skill Acquired!
Deception Lv 1
You are now 10–25% better at lying through your teeth!
(Depending on LUK stat and sheer desperation.)
Bubbles narrowed her eyes at me.
Suspicious. Judgy. Like a teacher who knows you didn't do the homework.
Finally, she snorted. "Fine. Show me."
Uh.
Right.
About that.
I slapped my pockets dramatically, like I was auditioning for a bad soap opera.
"Oh nooo," I wailed. "I must've dropped it somewhere! Maybe in... the parking lot?"
The goblins gasped.
You'd think I'd announced the death of the last donut on Earth.
Bubbles pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath like a woman questioning every life choice that led her here.
"Fine," she grumbled. "You have thirty seconds to fetch it. After that? Shopping time is over."
Her smile stretched, all teeth and promises of violence. "Permanently."
---
Spoiler alert:
I tried to sprint out of that mall faster than a Black Friday stampede chasing a 90% off flatscreen.
Emphasis on "tried."
I didn't exactly have time to think smart.
Or act smart.
Or, honestly, be smart.
I jumped behind a suspiciously large indoor potted cactus (because sure, why wouldn't there be a cactus in a death mall?) and crouched like my life depended on it.
Because it kinda did.
Peeking around the cactus spikes, I watched Bubbles stomp around the entrance, her face set to "murder with a side of shopping cart rage."
Behind her, a few goblin employees were already flipping the mall signs from "OPEN" to "CLOSED (FOR FUNERAL SERVICES)."
Yeah.
Definitely not leaving without a battle plan.
Or an army.
Or, you know, a tactical nuke.
I squinted and fired up Appraisal, hoping—praying—it wouldn't be that bad.
> Bubble (Yes, that's really her name.)
Race: Ogre (Marketing Manager)
Level: 42 (Yikes.)
HP: 5700 (Double yikes.)
MP: 0 (Bless you, gaming gods.)
And the goblin "security guards" flanking her?
Level 20+, each one flexing like they were auditioning for World's Scariest Mall Cops.
In short:
I was stuck inside a haunted shopping mall, facing a murder-obsessed ogre with the endurance of a tank, backed up by goblin rent-a-cops who could probably bench-press me.
Awesome.
Exactly how I wanted to spend my evening.
Totally not panicking. Totally not rethinking every decision that led me here.
(Okay. Maybe panicking a little.)
And just when I thought it couldn't get worse, the system decided to chime in:
[Good luck, hero! You're gonna need it.]
Gee.
Thanks, system.
Maybe next time just send flowers to my funeral instead.
...
I yanked off my Cloak of the Wild and swapped it for something way cooler:
Cloak of Night: Nightstalker Set (+10 Stealth; collect all 3 pieces for a bonus because RPG logic.)
Also, I still had that sock of invisibility hanging around. (+5 Stealth. Because nothing says "master of shadows" like wearing a sock you probably shouldn't admit to owning.)
+15 Stealth total.
Was that enough?
No idea. But staying put was a solid plan for dying, so... onward!
Down on the ground floor, goblin security was flooding in. They weren't exactly mall cops, but they had the enthusiasm and body odor to pull it off. They were locking down the exits, growling, and sniffing around like bloodhounds on bad Wi-Fi.
The mall was three stories tall, so I did the logical thing: went up.
Stealth, luck, or divine pity kicked in, and somehow I scrambled up to the second floor without getting spotted. I pressed myself flat against a balcony railing and held my breath.
Ding!
Skill Acquired: Stealth (Passive) Lv 1
(+10 Stealth)
Awesome. Basically, I just got rewarded for running away really well.
(Thanks, System. Truly, your faith in me is inspiring.)
Marketing Manager Bubble the Ogre (yes, really) was busy roaring her head off downstairs, and more and more goblin security guards were pouring in like they were giving away free donuts.
Believe it or not, the mission here wasn't just to survive.
I actually had to exterminate Bubble the Ogre to clear the dungeon.
Fun.
I crouched low behind the second-floor railing, sizing up the battlefield below.
Bubble looked way too comfortable down there, shouting orders and waving a spiked clipboard like she meant business.
Hmmm...
I needed high ground. Advantage. A chance to actually win this without becoming goblin soup.
Fireballs?
Yeah. I could definitely bombard them with fireballs from up here.
When in doubt: go full pyromaniac.
Problem: I needed to reach the third floor.
Bigger problem: the second floor was now crawling with goblin security guards, and they looked extra grumpy. Like "we skipped lunch for this" levels of angry.
I crouched lower, heart hammering. No way I could just sneak across now, even with my boosted stealth. I needed a plan. A good one. Maybe even a stupid one.
That's when I spotted it.
Over by the food court: a giant, slightly horrifying bunny costume left over from some mall promotion. It stood there all floppy-eared and lumpy, like someone had tried to crossbreed a rabbit and a punching bag.
Bingo.
Three minutes later, I was wobbling across the second floor disguised as the world's saddest mall mascot.
The goblins paused. Blinked. Then—
They cheered.
Apparently, "weird, slightly disturbing rabbit" was part of today's entertainment package.
I threw in a clumsy wave for good measure and hopped (literally hopped) toward the nearest escalator.
One goblin even tossed me a half-eaten pretzel. I caught it. Bowed. Kept moving.
Inside the suit, I was sweating buckets, but hey , you couldn't argue with results.
Third floor, here I come.