“Greg, you’re being observed. Not by the system.” He looked at me with those nonexistent eyes. “Something worse.”

  My voice went low, trying to match his volume. “How would you even know that?”

  “Phone. The sender of your system initialisation.” He paused again, rotating left and right. “Sender Bad.”

  That makes perfect… what the fuck am I meant to do with that knowledge?! The roomba is as cryptic and vague as that system. “Is there more to that story or…?

  “System is trying to be helpful. Restrictions. Lots of them.”

  Then turned, noticing some grime beneath the toilet. The kind that probably tastes the same as it looks, before driving up the small notch of the porcein throne and eating it up in one smooth slurp. Yuck!

  “That it?” Watching the roomba-mimic bump around the edges of my severely neglected shitter, while giving me small beeps. Letting me know he’s in a good mood or so I’d hoped anyway.

  After a few minutes of him cleaning my toilet, we left for the kitchen. It was time to not only handle the Safezone with a much needed sidekick, but also managing adventurers in a more precise manner.

  “I’m going to make so much fucking money.” I mumbled, the internal cash register going off like a slot-machine.

  But the joy was short lived when we arrived, as the orcs had all but vanished. Leaving the dining room in a state of post apocalyptic warfare.

  You grubby assholes, but at least you paid.

  A diminishing reward as Peek followed me through the mess of broken gss, pizza ptes and vomit. The smell being disgustingly pleasant due to the combination of garlic sauce and leftover sami.

  Between fighting the urge to vomit, then curse, before wanting to hurl again. All I could see was Peek… looking at me. His longing gaze not unsuccessful due to ck of eyes, but somehow—more intense.

  “May I clean, please?”

  It seemed that when he absorbed the abandoned roomba. RIP. He inherited its final wish. To clean this fucking mess of a house.

  “Yes, you may clean. But keep an eye on the front door. When I say eat—you eat his ass!” Not literally I hope.

  Peek moved across the floor as subtly as a bulldozer through a ball pit. Unnecessary, but funny all the same.

  Just watching the little guy crunching through the ndfill-type aftermath. Hearing loud shredding noises and being rewarded with a floor that if it could, would totally have “new car smell.”

  I watched him go in circles, getting every inch of floor restored to its original purpose. While I was moving chairs onto tables and help clean the pces he couldn’t. There’s no I in team after all.

  Peek suddenly made a type of rattling noise and approached me silently.

  “I need to empty.” Like, taking a leak or having a dust bag exchanged?

  “Umm, don’t you absorb this stuff? I thought that’s what mimics do?”

  It rotated in a manner of shaking its head. “Not the same, Greg. Absorption from these objects have a different outcome.”

  My eyebrows went through its motions to dispy the right level of confusion.

  “So how can I help?”

  “Either unload my contents or let me do it by myself, but you need to give me that permission first.”

  I was not keen on scoping out leftovers out of a cartridge, but where would he go to “do his business?”

  “Do you need… like, cat litter or something?” But how would he get into the box? The thought causing an internal giggle.

  “I can just do it here and you can decide my future depository ter.”

  Which was sound advice, but watching a mimic empty himself in-front of me was still eugh.

  “Sure, go ahead.” As I slowly took a few steps back.

  Peek started his process by doing little patterns on the ground. Like a dog finding the right position to shit in. Then clicked the back of his case open, followed by a sound I had heard before—and loved.

  Money.

  The talking roomba shits gold. Holy cow!

  He clipped his back door shut, beeped and continued his work across the floor. “Thank you Greg, that feels much better.”

  I took a few steps toward the coin, suspicious at first, but curiosity not killing “this cat.”

  It was legit. After the window next to it confirmed its value. “1 gold coin, for literally cleaning up the mess they had left me with.”

  “Might have to rethink my policy on cleanliness, if this is the outcome.” Smirking to myself and watching the roomba doing one small pass after another.

  It gave me another spark of curiosity. Levelling.

  Peek was a monster after all and despite his cute roomba appearance, was still a dangerous mimic. Games and movies had taught me as much, so I had to check up on the costs of his progression.

  He had the same setup as me. Levelling done through input of coins and while there weren’t the stats I was used to from RPGs, there was a separate field instead: Danger Rating or DR for short.

  It made me even more curious to see my own DR rating. But since I had no combat abilities, the rating should be on the lower side. As I sucked my teeth going through the menus, until I found…

  “A ZERO?! How can I have zero Danger in me?”

  *Ding*

  [Because Greg has no combat abilities]

  “Thank you system, I nearly forgot that for a second.” Grumbling to myself as I head for the FoodLocker. “Comfort chocote! That’s what I need.”

  My finger pressed onto the order screen, hard. Fingertip turning white from the pressure.

  I was rewarded with a triple-fudge sundae with chocote sauce. Topped off with so many extras, the spoon itself would need insulin shots. But worth it. The cold sensation of that first bite invoked a warm feeling of nostalgia, as I continued to watch Peek move around the room. With the occasional stop and dropping of a coin.

  It was at this moment that I decided to invest some of this steadily increasing wealth, into much needed self-improvement.

  “Peek. When you’re done, come bring those coins over here please.”

  He stopped, turned to me then froze. He did a few rotations, like he was calibrating and swiftly began his new directive.

  “Not only can he convert trash to gold… but also store it. Like his own personal prison wallet.” And my secret piggy bank—Oink oink.