If someone told me this morning that I'd be standing in a cursed hotel lobby where chandeliers were made of glowing skulls and the background music was demonic elevator jazz... I would've asked how much coffee they'd had.
But here we were.
Mirae stood beside me, stiff as a board, like she was about to punch the first skeleton waiter that got too close. Spicy sat on my shoulder, trying to chew on my tie. Dungeon leaned against a pillar like he owned the place. And me? I was sweating through a borrowed suit like a man about to be tried for tax fraud.
"Welcome, colleagues!" A voice boomed.
I turned to see a man in a top hat the size of a wagon wheel. His suit sparkled with rhinestones, his mustache curled like a villain in a cheap play, and he carried a cane topped with a glowing eyeball.
"The name's Vellario, proprietor of Vel's Vault of Wonders!" he declared, bowing so deeply his hat almost swallowed him whole. "Purveyor of the rare, the ridiculous, and the ridiculously rare!"
I blinked. "That's… nice?"
"Nice? NICE?!" He slammed his cane on the ground. The eyeball rolled around to look at me. "Boy, my shop has been voted Most Extravagant five years running! What accolades do you bring?"
"Uh... I sell cup noodles."
There was a pause. Mirae covered her face. Spicy clapped his paws like this was the best comedy routine he'd ever seen.
"Cup... noodles?" Vellario repeated, his mustache twitching in horror.
"Yes" I said proudly. "And soda. And, uh, gum."
The goblin leader suddenly popped out of my bag (don't ask how he got there).
"And coupons!"
Vellario staggered back like we'd just spit on his ancestors.
"Sacrilege!"
Before I could recover, another voice cut in, low, smooth, and sharp.
A woman walked past us. She wore all black, her coat long and flowing, hair slicked back, and eyes so cold they could freeze fire.
"Keep your noise down" she muttered. "Some of us don't need theatrics to prove ourselves."
"Who's she?" I whispered.
Dungeon leaned close. "Selena. Runs the Black Fang Apothecary. Don't mess with her unless you like poisons slipped into your coffee."
Selena glanced at me, smirked faintly, and moved on.
My spine turned to ice.
And then, because this couldn't possibly get worse, a man in a greasy apron waddled over, holding a giant skewer of mystery meat.
"Oi, oi, oi!" he laughed, slapping me on the back hard enough to nearly dislocate a lung.
"Name's Boris! Best grilled dungeon beast in three kingdoms!"
He shoved the skewer under my nose.
"Try it!"
I recoiled. "What... what is it?"
Boris grinned, showing way too many teeth.
"Don't ask!"
The meat twitched. I shoved it away. Spicy tried to bite it. Mirae yanked him back before we lost our familiar to salmonella.
As more shopkeepers arrived, the air grew heavier.
They weren't just eccentric merchants, they were predators in human clothing. Each introduction felt less like a meet-and-greet and more like a duel where words were the weapons.
Vellario boasted loudly, but every sentence ended with a jab about how "small shops vanish quickly."
Selena never raised her voice, but her gaze followed me like a knife at my throat.
Boris laughed, joked, and offered food, but whispered, "Careful, little convenience boy. Customers are wolves and wolves eat small prey first."
Even their dungeons, strange humanoid shadows lurking nearby, watched me with hungry eyes.
Mine? Mine stood next to me like he was half-asleep, sipping imaginary coffee. Thanks, buddy.
At one point, Vellario draped an arm around my shoulders. His rhinestones jabbed into my ribs.
"You'll see, boy" he whispered. "This is no place for amateurs. Dungeons don't just want caretakersn they want champions. Fail and your little noodle stand will be trampled underfoot or worse, consumed."
I swallowed. Mirae was glaring daggers at him. Spicy whispered,
"Papa fight?"
"No fighting" I hissed.
Vellario chuckled and walked away, twirling his cane. The eyeball winked at me.
By the time the welcome banquet started, my nerves were fried.
There was food (half of it alive, still wriggling), drinks (half of them smoking) and chatter that was equal parts business talk and veiled threats.
Mirae kept whispering.
"Don't trust any of them."
Spicy waddled around stealing appetizers.
The Goblin Coupon Gang had somehow snuck in and were passing out "10% Off Convenience Store" flyers.
And me? I stood there, clutching a soda glass, feeling like a high schooler who'd accidentally wandered into a mob meeting.
As the night wound down, I slipped outside for some fresh air.
The stars above were unfamiliar, shimmering with strange constellations. For a moment, I almost relaxed.
Then I heard a voice. Selena.
"You don't belong here."
I turned.
She stood a few feet away, arms crossed.
"You'll be chewed up, boy" she said softly, almost kindly. "Your little shop won't last. Do yourself a favor, quit before you're crushed."
And with that, she walked back inside.
I stood frozen, soda glass trembling in my hand.
Spicy peeked out from my pocket, whispering.
"Papa doomed."
And for once, I wasn't sure he was wrong.