Freya glared at the puddle. "You're telling me that thing just asked me out?"
"It burbled suggestively," Bunny confirmed, holding up her holy staff like it could ward off cringe. "And I think it winked. Or... jiggled in a winky way."
Sir Beef tilted his helmet, peering into the gelatinous blob. "I don't know, maybe it just wants to spar?"
"Spar?!" Greg strummed a chord titled Mild Panic and pointed at the slime's heart-shaped pseudopod. "That thing's got a crush! It's practically writing fanfiction about Freya with sparkles!"
Freya's eye twitched. "I did NOT come to another world to be courted by a sentient jellybean!"
The slime burbled again. A message popped up:
[Flirtatious Slime has offered you a quest: "Let's Get Gel-ly Together!" Accept? Y/N]
"NO."
Freya rejected the quest so hard the system UI sizzled.
Unfortunately, that seemed to offend the slime. It wobbled ominously, its form bubbling like a kettle of heartbreak. Then, in a sudden flurry of goo, it launched a glistening tendril straight at Sir Beef.
With an undignified yelp, Sir Beef blocked with his shield, only to be splattered in what could only be described as... affection slime.
"It's sliming him with love!" Greg shrieked.
"Is that a status condition?!" Bunny asked.
Sir Beef looked dazed. "I feel... emotionally moisturized."
"Gross," Freya muttered, drawing her sword. "We're ending this. Diplomacy has failed."
She lunged—but the slime bounced. Literally bounced. Like a rubber ball filled with flan, it zipped around the dungeon chamber, leaving globs of glittering goo in its wake.
[New Status Effect: Romantically Confused]
"Are you serious?!" Freya growled, trying to dodge the flying sparkles. "Why is this a thing?!"
"It's a slime with a crush," Greg said, backpedaling into a suspiciously floral-looking stone pillar. "Of course it sparkles. That's the international monster language of 'I like you but I'm bad at boundaries.'"
The slime paused mid-jiggle and produced a bouquet of dungeon moss.
Freya blinked. "Okay... that's actually kind of sweet."
"Don't fall for it!" Bunny barked. "That's exactly how slime infestations start. One moment it's giving you moss, the next it's replicating in your boots!"
But the slime was persistent. It now wore a tiny bowtie—how, no one could explain—and performed an interpretive dance.
Sir Beef nodded slowly. "You know, I think we're being a little harsh. Maybe it just wants to be understood."
"Or maybe it wants to meld bodies," Bunny snapped. "No thank you!"
Greg played a chord named This Is Getting Out of Hand, summoning a gust of wind that blew glitter goo everywhere.
The slime, clearly offended, inflated to roughly the size of a small carriage.
"Oh, we're doing that now," Freya said, sword ready. "Battle it is."
[Boss Battle Initiated: Gelatino, the Love-Struck Slime]
Greg groaned. "Why do they all have names?"
"Because feelings are universal!" the system chimed in, unhelpfully.
The battle that followed could only be described as absurd.
Freya dodged a flurry of affectionate globs, slicing at gooey tendrils with disgusted precision.
Sir Beef, now fully coated in glitter gel, tried to keep the slime occupied by talking about its feelings.
"I'm sure you're misunderstood!" he shouted. "But maybe this isn't the best time to explore your inner squish!"
Bunny cast Purify five times in a row.
"WHY WON'T THE LOVE GO AWAY?!"
Greg tried to distract it with an impromptu romantic sonnet, which worked a little too well. The slime paused mid-attack, entranced by his lyrical prowess.
"That's right," Greg whispered, eyes wide. "Fall for me instead. Freya's too emotionally unavailable."
"EXCUSE ME?!" Freya shouted.
The slime, torn by its affection dilemma, began to split in two. Now there were two romantically inclined slimes.
"Oh good," Bunny muttered. "We've entered the polyamorous gelatin arc."
Eventually, after a full hour of dodging kisses and glitter goo, Freya landed a precise blow to the slime's core—sparkly heart and all.
With a dramatic squelch and a shimmery sigh, Gelatino dissolved into a pile of harmless glitter.
[Boss Defeated: Gelatino]
[You Have Gained: 2000 XP, 1 Flirtatious Core, and A Deep Unsettling Sense of Confusion]
The team collapsed on the dungeon floor.
"I feel like I need a shower," Freya mumbled.
"I feel like I need therapy," Bunny added.
"I feel... strangely complimented," Greg said.
Sir Beef nodded solemnly. "I feel ready for love."
Freya threw a rock at him.
"I swear," she muttered, "if the next dungeon room is full of seductive furniture again, I'm going back to farming turnips."
The dungeon door creaked open.
Inside: a ballroom. Music played. Candles lit themselves. And at the far end, a throne made entirely of romantic novels.
"NOPE." Freya turned on her heel.
"Wait!" Greg said, pointing. "There's loot!"
A message appeared:
[You Have Entered: The Ballroom of Bewildering Boudoirs]
[Warning: High Probability of Sentient Furniture Seeking Intimacy]
Everyone groaned.
And yet, because adventurers are contractually obligated to make bad decisions, they walked in.