As I y there, a bck, slick, and gooey slug-like pool, I indulged in a thh review of my skills, meticulously analyzing every facet. I iling on passive attacks like a true badass, and oh, let’s not overlook my pair of oh-so-sweet offensive spells, perfect for sed havoc. Yet, the deeper I delved, the clearer it became—I had barely scratched the surfay true potential. Frustratingly, the remaining bosses were my only shot at new skills with the dungeon cone. Luckily, I had snagged a snack—I mean, a guide—to track them down.

  Wait a damn minute!

  There were also five other system users lurking around… Holy, I couldn’t care less about the whole didate champion farce. Oh, and sidering the cave-in that blocked my previous escape route—er, entrahat whole test seemed like a total bust. But skills? My hunger for them was insatiable. Skills, skills, skills!

  Here, didates, didates! e out wherever you are!

  Yeah, I probably should chase down the core, but let’s be real—those Sethians, or whatever they call themselves, totally trashed aire dungeon city teeming with people, creatures, monsters, or whatever the hell they want to identify as. So, what was I supposed to do against them in my current state? Not a ce! I needed more skills. You might think it’s all about leveling up, but from what I’ve seen, levels don’t do squat except unloew skills and skill slots. It feels more like a twisted Battlepass from video games than a real leveling system—I just hope there isn’t some hiddeo unlock the whole shebang.

  No, seriously though, I don’t feel like I’m getting any stronger with each level—not even a ti mana. It would probably help if I could see my stats, but here’s nothing to analyze; no visible indicators of any increase. The only real boosts I’m finding e from my skills.

  Then there are my dreams; the more I try to pin them down, the fuzzier they get. I have this niggling memory of a kind elderly dy and some chick from the Blue Man Group bitg at me to get off my ass and chase down the dungeon core. Then there’s this shadowy figure, but all I see when I shut my eyes are those lifeless eyes—haunting, pulling at me as if they’re screaming for me to find them again. I mean, a girl get a hint here? I just wish I could unravel what it all means. It’s maddening, like someone’s having a field day ing my memories in a pink and blue fog. Ugh, it’s so annoying how dreams be such a hassle to remember! And it totally sucks to think I might’ve cracked some epic mystery, like unlog the meaning of life, only to have it vanish the moment I wake up.

  Do you know what will make me feel better?

  Murdering someone?

  Yep!

  I chuckled at my own little inner dialogue. Okay, fine! Yes, I joke about developing a split personality, but do I actually have one? No—of course not—yet. I just enjoy reveling in the crazy when I’m all aloh no one else to chat with. Judge me if you will; I don’t care!

  Anyway… my Toadinator meal was long gone—oh, ahat was a nod to the Baator. Mmm, mmm, mmm! All I had left to do was reform my body bato something resembling human—only, as an arm slowly began to emerge from my puddle, I noticed a thin film of silk mixing into the form. It was the same silk I had used ioad’s mouth, now coating my hand like it was a glove... or... skin...

  I repositioned my eyes onto the palms of my hands, which were the only parts with any form protruding from my goo puddle—aside from the first arm that was covered with the silk film. At that moment, I must have looked like a snail or slug with its eyestalks emerging from a pool of liquid—or I would have, if not for the fact that it was teically three arms. As bizarre as it appeared, having two arms with eyes on them provided me with a perfect close-up view of the silk ging to the first arm.

  As amusing as I might have looked, I decred it Mighty Polymorphing Time—you know, time to gather myself and morph bato a mnizable form. Holy, that little catchphrase sounded way cooler in my head. Anyway, where was I? ht! Frankly, I was growing tired of resembling a horror movie monster, and as I eyed that silk, a brilliant idea struck me on how to resolve that little dilemma.

  I retracted my outstretched arms into the liquid pool that was me aivated Mana Focus. Taking a moment, I visualized my desired appearan exquisite detail. With the image firmly anchored in my mind, I eled my subscious desire into Polymorph, feeling a surge of power as I asded from my goop. Every fiber of my being stretched and reshaped, my tar-like goop transf into a skeletal frame as solid muscle fibers began weaving around it in a spiraling and twisting dance. Although the transformation sted only a few seds, it seemed to stret, as if time itself had slowed.

  When the spell was plete, I opened my eyes to a transformed world, with Mana Focus spontaneously igniting within my newly formed sockets. It was seamless and intuitive; harnessing Mana Focus had bee sed nature to me. However, gng down, I was taken aback by the grotesque sight of my tar-coated, zombie-like refley dripping flesh barely g to the skeletal frame beh—a stark trast to the magnifit vision I had intended.

  Hell, I had looked far more humaacles notwithstanding—before entering the toad’s chamber. Frustration welled within me, igniting an infuriating fit of ughter. I examined my hand, fronting its skeletal appearand the gaps in the fiber tissue that had failed to ma properly.

  With a heavy sigh, I pondered where my visualization had gone awry. As I mulled over my failed attempt, my attention was drawn to a particur skill: Mana Focus. I realized I had been instinctively using it without a system and, and it had funed fwlessly. Simirly, I had been employing Polymorph unventionally when shaping my tentacles. Hell, both skills were passive skills, for fuck’s sake! It was so frustrating to think I had mastered how something worked, only to try it again and fail miserably.

  A realization struck me like lightning, and I excimed, “Holy shit! I think I’ve figured it out!”

  Taking a surprised breath—sidering I hadn’t sciously created lungs—I felt reassured by my hypothesis, even as I ighe irony that I was reinf the same cept that had led me to this point. Yet, everything I’d done seemed to circle back to this one principle, reinf the idea even further. I despised standardization. If instrus, descriptions, and rules were all unreliable, then perhaps the system itself was merely a training aid for novice magis.

  And there y my hypothesis: it was all influenot by knowledge or talent, but by desire, which is fually subscious. Yeah, it’s a stretch, I know, but hey, you’re talking to a college dropout here—so fuck off!

  Still fixated on my hand, I poured my imagination and desire into the transformation, thrilled to see my hand morph into a more familiar form. It was still jet bck, a nod to my bck pudding essence, but I craved a look that dreamt of my past life—a goth with a ghostly pale plexion. Natural gingers, am I right?

  As I revisited my list of skills, Silk Webbing caught my attention. Previously, when I used it ihe toad’s mouth, it had exploded into a chaotic mess rather thaing the heroiic book se I’d envisioned. Despite its initial failure to prevent the boss monster from tearing me apart, I reized its potential usefulness as I observed how the silk film had snugly fitted like a glove over my dark, gooey flesh after pulling my arm from the pool.

  This time, I visualized the webbing not as a sticky mess but as delicate silk threads tightly interwoven, f a protective shell around my pudding flesh and cast…

  After numerous attempts and failures, which left the chamber tangled in chaotic silk, I gradually developed a deeper uanding of the skill. It required more than mere imagination and desire—it demanded a profound sense of how it felt to cast the skill to ma my desires into reality. With the knowledge of how both Polymorph and Silk Webbi, I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation, guiding my transformation—

  “Hello! You still alive in there?” a voice bellowed into the boss chamber, rudely snappi of my groove.

  Fug hell—I was so close to nailing it this time!

  Crag open one eye, I caught the lizard stig his nosy head through the cracked entrance. As soon as he saw me—no big surprise there, sidering I was the only hideous monster with glowing e eyes standing around—I rolled my eyes and huffed.

  “Privacy, ever heard of it?” I muttered under my breath.

  Ign his interruption, I shut my eyes tighter and focused even harder on my transformatioermio get it right this time. After all, greatness waits for no lizard-chi-dinner.

  I felt my body elongate slightly, my curves atuated to my desired proportions, and my hair casg down my back. With a clear image of my desired face, I eled my desire into maing silky skin, sensing the silk coating my features, creating a protective shell that cealed my true nature. It wasn’t perfect, and I knew I still had much to practice to pass as a ving human, but there was a sense of aplishment as I began g, even if tinged with self-mockery.

  With Mana Focus activated in my hand like my oh-so-favorite, ridiculous selfie stick, I took a closer look at myself. My appearance was far from human, more akin to a female alien, but there was a strange charm to it—a creepy ess that I found intriguing.

  I donned a bck dress that shifted and moved, giving me a demonic vibe. But I hadn’t merely worn the dress—I had shaped my body into it. Every ine exuded a deep abyssal bck, except for my white silk face, which had a sleekness hinting at an otherworldly allure.

  Yeah, I didn’t use as much silk as I had inte first, but I pn to py with it more ter. Anyways! I sort of looked like a succubus, at least in the body, though, as I just said, my face looked almost alien, as if I had undergone ooo many Botox procedures.

  I khe vibrant e glow would further enhance my uniquely creepy beauty once I withdrew Mana Focus bato my newly created eye sockets. To my pleasant surprise, the facial features moved naturally, as if they were my own flesh. I could smile, frown, and even wink—which looked rather horrifying without any eyes. Still, I could cast the full range of expressioe the tautness of the silk that formed my skin.

  It dawned ohat sidering the silk as a mere shell coating would be a disservice. If magic operated based on my imagination and desire, then I o truly believe the silk was my actual flesh. Yeah, it’s a bit of a stretch, but maybe the deeper I dive into my delusions, the more amazing I’ll bee, right? Molding it into any desired appearance might bee even easier once I fully believed in its authenticity.

  Now, don’t get me wrong—I still had a long way to go and much more practiaster my newfound uanding of magic’s uniqueness. But I was starting to grasp the essence—or, I suppose you could say, the insight—into it all.

  I was gaining insight into a thought that I should be learning my skills without relying on the system, and it got me w—could I learn new spells without the system altogether? I secretly loo cast a lightning bolt, but no matter how vividly I imagined and desired it, there was no apanyiion to rely on for its maioher way, that’s a problem for tomorrow.

  It seemed I needed a bit more experience casting spells with the system before I could fully cast without it. Though, Mana Focus and Polymorph did seem pretty easy—or was that because they were passives? Shit! Just when I think I’ve made a step forward in uanding all this bullshit, I take five steps back with one realization! Am I really casting those skills without the system if they’re passives?

  To add more fusion, I noticed a distinct differen the sensations in mana—or perhaps it was more of that insight shit. Was this Oracle or Astral Insight’s doing? Where was I going with this again? Err! Ohod seemed to tap into the ambient mana present in the surroundings, while the other relied oernal mana provided by the system itself. Sadly, I couldn’t verify that without any stats to rely on. Though, I suppose you could call it a feeling?

  That said, I could see the mana all arouh Mana Focus, and with some of the spells, depending on how I used them, I noticed the mana shift with the casting.

  With all this newfound insight—or should I say, tradis?—buzzing in my mind, my twisted psyche yearned for a more immediate thrill. The boss beed to me with twisted fingers like a demented lover craving my demise. A slow chuckle escaped my lips, gradually pig up into manic ughter. Each ugh felt like a dah madness. I could almost hear the dark ughter of the long-gone dungeon core eg back through the twisted corridors and expansive caverns, as if enjoying my dest into blissful insanity.

  I slowly stopped ughing, only to smile at Redtail, notig him gawking at me and my new form. Oh, this was too much fun, like child’s py, or rather, pytime in a deranged nursery. The dungeon husk seemed to py triy senses, as if the darkness was whispering distorted lulbies that made my skin crawl with perverse excitement—or could it just be my insanity talking?

  “Owo, I am ing for you. Three, four, better lock your doors. Five, six, grab your wands. Seve, you better stay up te. en, you’ll never sleep again,” I hummed to myself in utter glee.

  But as, the jouro the boss proved disappointingly uful, as if the dungeon had fotten its true purpose—to torment and devour. Instead, I found myself meandering beside my meals-on-tail through corridors that reeked of stale air and deg hopes. As I tio traipse through the lifeless dungeon, my gleeful joy turo boredom.

  A swarm of questions g the recesses of my twisted mind, their razor-sharp teeth sinking into the fragile fabriy sanity.

  What kind of sadistic game were those vampires pying?

  What happeo Aurelia? Why am I even thinking about her?

  How did the other feeble didates expect to level up in this empty pit? Have they each bee as bored and insane as I, longing for the taste of blood-soaked brutality?

  Perhaps I should just eat the lizard now?

  The one silver lining of aimlessly wandering through the desote husk of a dungeon was that we reached the boss chamber with surprising speed. The steel doors leading into the chamber creaked open as if something had ed to close them properly behind itself. Peering inside, I found a se all too familiar—a chamber akin to the previous one. But to my surprise, there was no hidden ledge above the door in this room. I shrugged off the anomaly, my anticipation growing as I ehe chamber, fully prepared to unleash my current favorite spell, ic Fme. I’m sure I’ll repce it with a new favorite soon enough. Yet, to my bewilderment, the chamber was empty, devoid of any boss or formidable adversary. It was a disappointing anticlimax that left me utterly frustrated.

  “What the fuck?” I scowled at the lizard. “I’m getting some serious blue balls here! I’m going to o kill something or someone soon.” I gred at him as if he were that someone—he was!

  Redtail gulped nervously, apparently notig my growing unhiate. “Some bosses may have started wandering the dungeon on their own now that the core is gone. Some may have even beeed by another monster or by the Sethians—”

  “Or by those didates,” I grumbled.

  “—and without the core, they won’t respawn,” Redtail finished, not even hearing me.

  The chamber was also a bust, so we ventured further into the dungeon and to the boss chamber. However, I couldn’t help but notice the recurring anomaly—the boss chambers we entered were all infuriatingly empty, devoid of any boss or challe was as if the bosses had either been sin and couldn’t respawn without the dungeon core, or they had simply decided to pack up their shit and abandon this pce. Whatever the reason, it presented a rather disheartening predit—I couldn’t level up if there was no boss to fight.

  Frustrated, I turo Redtail for answers, but all I received in response was a nont shrug. I couldn’t dis whether he genuinely had no clue about the situation or if he was simply toying with me, withholding the truth like a sadistic ass.

  No, Bke, calm down, he already gave us the reason why...

  But it’s so frustrating! If there’s no more bosses, I’m just going to eat him!

  After endurie boss chamber after boss chamber, we finally arrived at the entrance of what seemed to be the final boss—a pair of rusted gates guarding the entrao an a coliseum, now reduced to a crumbling ruin. As I cautiously peered through the iron bars, at the heart of the arena stood three t statues, their Herculean forms frozen in battle-ready stances. Whether chiseled from granite or sculpted from marble, their imposing presence was undeniable.

  A tingling thrill of excitement coursed through me. These statues, without a doubt, were the dungeon’s final bosses. With an unnecessary breath, I pushed open the creaking rusted gate, revealing the entrao the desote coliseum. Of course, the lizard didn’t even bother to take a step in behind me, instead waiting outside the coliseum.

  It was strange; in my previous life, this moment would have invoked sheer terror. But now, in this twisted existence, I found myself inexplicably drawn to these moments of violence.

  There was an uling aura that permeated the air, sending shivers down my gooey spi wasn’t fear that gripped me, but rather an eager anticipation, as if I were on the verge of springing a devious trap. As I cautiously trod across the sand-coated floor, my gaze was drawn to the heaps of colpsed pilrs scattered throughout the arena, as if the very foundations of this pce had crumbled uhe weight of time. Ses of stadium seats were er, with one segmeirely colpsed into a chaotic mess.

  The dome-shaped ceiling, however, remained intact, its surfatricately carved into the very fabric of the dungeon’s cavern system. Glowing crystals lit up the area, which I was indifferent about; between Mana Focus and Thermal, I saw just fine in the dark—though, I hadn’t bothered with the tter in some time.

  Yet, the sense of unease tio intensify. To my bewilderment, I couldn’t help but notice a strange sensation—I was salivating.

  My attention was fixated on the colossal statues that loomed in the heart of the arena. Perhaps Herculean didn’t quite capture their true enormity. They were nothing short of gargantuan! In parison, I stood merely at the height of their upper thighs. As I drew closer, I couldn’t help but notice the detail ohree sculptures, crafted from pristine marble, which stood as testaments to exquisite craftsmanship.

  Oatue depicted a woman, her form both fierd graceful. She brandished a massive golden circur shield, bedazzled with shimmering rubies. Iher hand, she grasped a splendid golden spear, akin to those wielded by argels. Fnkihe two male statues radiated a sense of raw power. One gripped a golden cymore, its bde adorned with intricate engravings and orails. The other statue held a menag double-ended battleaxe, its presence magnified by mesmerizing carvings. Each on seemed to tell its own intricate tale, a testament to the sculptor’s artistry.

  But despite their formidable appearahere was a humorous trast in their depi. All three were he cold seemingly unkind to the two male figures in a particurly delicate aspect, leaving little to the imagination and muy amusement.

  I had bee so engrossed in the visual spectacle before me that I had momentarily fotten to rely on my other senses. And it was in that moment of hat I was assaulted by a delicious stench that permeated the air, like rotti. Before I could fully prehend the situation, the sandy floor beh me erupted, unleashing a horde of rotting undead fighters. They emerged from the sand, their decayed bodies armed with rusted ons, their hollow eyes filled with a hunger for battle.

  A sihought crossed my mind as they charged toward me with relentless fervor. Their deg flesh emitted an odious aroma that was strangely alluring. My senses were momentarily overwhelmed by a twisted desire, a dark craving. But I quickly snapped back to reality, reminding myself of the task at hand. I had to fight.

  Yeah—fight now, eat ter!

  A horde of several dozen undead warriors desded upoh savage i, their tattered forms moving with an unnatural hunger. It seemed as if they were determio overwhelm me with sheer numbers, as if wrestlio a grotesque dogpile was their ultimate goal.

  I refused to bee their prey! Swiftly, I dodged the swing of a massive mallet aimed at my head, spinning out of harm’s way with a grace that belied my appearance of an alien-looking woman in a dress. Tentacles sprouted from my ba an instant, thrashing outwards with deadly force. With a siing thud, one undead creature was fttened into the sandy ground, while another met a simir fate at the hands of aentacle.

  Yet, the battlefield still teemed with enemies. Unleashing a primal scream, the world around me was enveloped in a ghastly shade of green with purple flickers. Fmes of iergy erupted from my being, ing everything within a few-meter radius. The searing power of my skill, ic Fme, swept around me, redug the undead foes’ flesh to sm ashes. Their twisted forms colpsed before my eyes, ed by the relentless fire of my dark magic.

  For a few meters in every dire, it was engulfed by a swirling vortex of ic Fme, a maelstrom of dark power that devoured everything in its path. Thankfully, that had only been the first wave, and this battle was far from over. Undead creatures emerged from the sand with relentless determination, their rusted ons shing out and their deg bodies g and biting. It was a ceaseless onsught, an unending cycle of decayed aggression.

  Amidst the tumult, I glided with a surreal grace, a be of not possessing real bones. My movements mirrored a ballet dancer’s eleganbined with a tortionist’s flexibility, allowio effortlessly dodge the clumsy strikes from my undead foes. However, my grace might not have been as refined as I imagined—a few strikes nearly took my head off but passed right through me without so much as toug me, thanks to Ethereal Mist. My approach was like a bea of ic Fmes, engulfing anything that dared e near.

  With every fluid motioacles erupted from my body, striking with Corrosive and Venomous fury. Ideally, these tendrils were meant to extend from my back, with some even resembling hair strands, but occasionally, one or two would awkwardly pop out from my tits, muy chagrin. Doubts lingered about the effectiveness of my Venomous touch against the undead, but in the heat of battle, who had time to worry about those details? That said, with each hit, I felt a soothiion wash over me—my guess, Life Drain at work.

  Amidst the battle, an ued sound reached my ears. It took me a moment to realize it was my voice, softly humming a familiar tune.

  Is that... The Safety Dance?

  A twisted sense of amusement welled up within me as I tio dahrough the deposing ranks of the undead, my dark magid haunting melody blending into a dark symphony of destru.

  But, as the ever-so-cheerful saying goes, all good things must e to an end. The fmes that had been my deliciously devastating panions began to flicker and fade. The remnants of the undead creatures, onugly enveloped in my fiery embraow crumbled into char, setting the stage for a new, ghastly horror. From the ashes of my spectacur victory and the burnt remains scattered like a morbid fetti across the arena, a legion of skeletal warriors popped up. Because holy, let’s be real here, my life’s a never-ending blooper reel—nothing ever goes as I fug expect it to! Their bony frames ccked and rattled with an unholy fervor, while their empty eye sockets glowed with a sinister green luminesce that just screamed party crashers.

  …Shit.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not upset that the party keeps rog; no, I’m pissed that all the delieat has now turo ash—what was I thinking, right?

  With a surge of frustrated determination, I tried to recast ic Fme, p all my desire into the spell. But to my utter dismay—zip, zilada! It looked like I indeed had a system pool, and darn it, it had run dry, leavierly screwed!

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