Ten days had passed since Sharath's Slime Sludge Cloth™ monopoly agreement had been signed, sealed, and solidly implanted into Lord Bassana's merchant soul like a platinum-tip harpoon.Those ten days were not filled with leisure. Oh no.
Sharath had been holed up in his workshop with Thermo, 🐧Neuro Boop, and an eyebrow-raising quantity of empty cans of energy drinks. The outcome? The Upgraded Gun Arsenal 2.0.
Gun Upgrade Insanity
The star of the show for the upgrade:
Sharath's favorite M416 — now with a magically augmented barrel that could stand up to enchanted armor-piercing ammo, a recoil stabilizer that felt like shooting a polite laser beam, and a rune-inscribed sight that actually whispered range calculations into his ear.
And then there was the Uzi of Doom™.
Increased fire rate.
Magical cooling system so it wouldn't melt in his hands.
And because Sharath was Sharath… he added a "Slime Cleaver" enchantment that doubled damage against goo-based life forms.
🐧Neuro Boop: "You do realize you've essentially made a weapon so overkill for slimes that it's like hunting ants with a flamethrower, right?"Sharath: "Exactly."
Thermo didn't even comment. He just made that slow, disappointed hover in the corner that said, "You'll regret this, but I'll film it."
The Convoy of Tricycles
The day of the dungeon adventure, Sharath faced his personally selected group of twenty soldiers. But they weren't horseback. Or carriage-mounted.
They were riding industrial-class, load-capable tricycles.Each tricycle possessed:
A barrel carrier in the rear for casks.
Heavy-duty wheels for hard dungeon roads.
A paint job that suggested they'd been pinched from an apocalyptic gang of bikers.
Sharath's personal tricycle was driven by a servant, and he rode on the back carrier as if some sort of half-royal, half-action-hero action figure, gazing down the road for approaching goo victims.
Thermo: "Nothing says 'fearsome dungeon party' like twenty adults on tricycles."
Dungeon Entry: Chaos Begins
The entrance to the dungeon engulfed them in darkness, the air heavy with the subtle sweet smell of slime. Tricycle wheels clanked against the stone walls.
The first slime materialized in three minutes. Sharath did not even break his stride.
BRATATATATATA — the new M416 sang, and the slime blew up into tidy little droplets.
Not a single soldier flinched. The first time they'd witnessed him fire the gun, they'd stared like villagers witnessing fireworks for the very first time. Now? They treated it like muzak.
One soldier yawned while shoveling slime goo into a bucket.
And that was the rhythm for the ensuing nine hours:
Sharath firing anything that moved (and some things that didn't).
Soldiers scooping the goo, pouring it into barrels lashed to the tricycles.
Thermo hovering above, periodically providing sarcastic play-by-play commentary.
🐧Neuro Boop interjecting with wildly inaccurate kill counts.
By the time they arrived in the Boss Room, Sharath had thirty barrels of high-quality slime sludge neatly stored away in his inventory.
🐧Neuro Boop: "Congratulations. You are now the proud owner of enough slime goo to start a spa chain… or a chemical warfare program."
Five-Hour Nap Time
The boss door of the dungeon towered in front of them, casting an eerie blue glow. Rather than bursting in as a wild-eyed maniac, Sharath opted for a five-hour nap.
"Why?" asked one of the warriors.
"Because," Sharath replied, nestling himself into a surprisingly plush dungeon sleeping bag, "I want to be well-rested before I commit slaughter."
Thermo just hovered above him grumbling, "Well, at least you're not skipping sleep like last time."
Boss Room: Interrupted Dramatic Entrance
Five hours later, the door creaked open and the Giant Slime Boss started oozing forward, gathering its ominous "I'm about to kill you all" stance.
Sharath didn't wait.He drew out the Uzi of Doom™ and BRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP — the boss exploded before it could even manage to wiggle to a stop.
The chest appeared nearly sheepishly, as if it knew it was going to let someone down.
The Loot Disappointment
Sharath opened the chest with a pop, hoping for heaps of gold or at least a magical sword.
Instead?
20 bottles of slime acid
20 bottles of slime sludge
Sharath gawked. "…That's it?"
One of the more experienced warriors, leaning on his tricycle like a philosopher, said, "Actually, that's considered amazing for a first floor. Usually, you get maybe a handful of goo and a rusty dagger."
Sharath frowned. "That's… depressing."
🐧Neuro Boop: "Translation: your expectations were too high, you loot goblin."
Still, Sharath stuffed everything into his inventory with a sigh. At least it was top-quality goo.
The Second Floor Temptation
They had another five-hour break, mainly so the warriors could cease staring at Sharath for forcing them to ride tricycles incessantly.
As they packed up, Sharath gazed at the enormous staircase going down into the depths of darkness.The second floor was waiting.
"You know what?" he said. "Let's go down."
The soldiers looked at each other, between fear and acceptance.
Lord Darsha had warned him to be cautious. Lady Ishvari had warned him to be careful. The Princess had warned him not to get himself devoured.
And Sharath?He simply smiled and reloaded the M416.
Thermo: "And here we go again — another installment of 'Sharath Ignores All Advice'."