It was supposed to be simple. A few meal trays, a couple sodas, one family-size bucket of spicy wings.
Nothing fancy.
But the delivery note had one cursed line scribbled at the bottom:
"Deliver to: Floor 2 — The Mist Corridor."
I hate the Mist Corridor. The air there feels like you're walking through soup and everything lurking inside likes to whisper creepy things in your ear.
Naturally, Mom tried to stop me.
"Sweetheart, are you sure you don't want to send someone else? Maybe your new hire?"
"No!" I snapped. "She's not setting foot in the dungeon."
Behind me, my sister muttered,
"Yeah, she'll just have to watch you trip your way through danger zones instead."
I ignored her and packed the food.
The Mist Corridor was worse than I remembered. Every step made the fog swirl, like it was alive. My tray of food rattled in my arms.
Something slithered nearby.
I picked up my pace.
"Psst..." a voice hissed from the mist.
"Who goes there?"
I froze.
Out of the fog stepped a group of adventurers, ragged, bruised, clearly lost.
"Delivery guy." I said, trying not to sound terrified.
Their eyes lit up. "FOOD?!"
Within seconds, they were swarming me, tossing coins at my face in their rush to grab burgers and wings. One even hugged me, sobbing.
"You're a saint."
I tried to pry him off.
"I'm just... the delivery guy."
They left full and happy. I left covered in grease and adventurer tears.
At the end of the corridor, the fog thickened until I could barely see my shoes. Then I heard the crunch of claws against stone.
Out of the mist loomed a massive Mist Panther, eyes glowing, muscles rippling, fangs bared. My brain screamed: run.
Instead, I held out the food tray.
"...uh, delivery?"
The panther sniffed the wings. Then, to my horror, it sat down, tail swishing and calmly began eating out of the bucket like a giant housecat.
I stood frozen for five minutes as it gnawed on bones and licked sauce off its paws.
When it finished, it dropped a pouch of coins at my feet and slunk back into the fog.
I picked up the pouch with shaking hands.
"This job is going to kill me."
By the time I returned, the Goblin Coupon Gang had somehow turned the restaurant into a "karaoke night" for orcs.
I didn't even ask.
Instead, I slipped into the breakroom where the Dungeon shimmered into view.
"Well done" it said. "You've earned +150 points."
Updated Points Balance: 1515
The Dungeon flicked its hand, and the Shop screen appeared again.
Level 1 Dungeon Shop:
Healing Candy (restores minor wounds instantly) — 150 pts
Bottomless Fry Basket (never runs out of fries) — 300 pts
Goblin-Proof Broom (self-cleans the store) — 400 pts
Portable Stove of Eternal Heat — 500 pts
Mystery Box (??? inside) — 750 pts
I stared at the list, my finger twitching over the "Goblin-Proof Broom."
But... the coffee machine.
My legendary coffee machine was still locked away at Level 3.
Grinding my teeth, I closed the shop without buying anything.
My sister leaned in from the door.
"So, how long before you waste all your points on fries?"
I threw a wing bone at her.
Wierdly, she caught it and ate it.