《Trace: A LitRPG Apocalypse》Killshot Apocalypse 10
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The boss room of the Dire Pits was an annular chamber supported by marble pillars forming a large ring at the very centre; the room proceeded to descend into a gladiatorial-like pit of dirt where— presumably— the boss would be lying in wait. It was a design fitting for a grand battle between the party and a monster at the end of an epic journey. Except, there was nothing here.
Nothing but a terrible quietus that made Trace Taylor gulp and adjust her red scarf.
“Well, that’s anticlimactic.” Liz crunched her way over the granular soil. “This place is empty.”
Trace crossed her arms, trying to ease her worries. “Famous last words?”
“Hey, didn’t you just give me crap for saying the same thing a minute ago?”
“This is…” Ken stood above the pit, running a hand through the parapet supporting the pillars. “I’ve watched a dozen streams of different boss battles. They’ve never hidden from challengers before.”
“Maybe it’s a new strategy?” Shrugging, Trace leant against the cold stone wall. The boss room, just like the rest of the labyrinth on the third floor, was hot and humid. And she was incredibly nervous, hand on her pistol, safety off.
So, she was doused in hot sweat and a burning tension: it exhausted her, even more so than running from the ogrebears did. She was out of her depth here and needed a break.
“It can’t be. Not for an F rank Dungeon. Something is… wrong,” Ken said with a foreboding look.
“No shit. Isn’t that what I’ve been saying since the start?”
“Yeah, but that’s you saying it.” Kat smirked. “A fucking amateur, remember? Who’d listen to you?”
Before Trace could attempt a rebuttal, Liz spoke up. “Look, this probably ain’t as big of a deal as you guys are making it.” She pocketed her hands, nonchalant. “Someone just got here before us and killed the boss.”
“Then where are the signs of fighting?” Ken said, wandering down the pit. He waved a hand around. “There’s no blood, no body, and no damage to anything in this room.”
“What other explanation is there then, that the boss just upped and left?”
For whatever reason, the possibilities sent a shiver down Trace’s spine. Perhaps it was because this was her first time in a Dungeon, and oddities had been stacking up from the very beginning, but she was starting to get worried. If the boss was hiding, hoping to ambush them… well, no one here was superhuman. A surprise attack would kill anyone in an instant.
She remembered the video of Galahad Gryphon and Hayden Marshall. Even the highest-levelled individuals could die, just like that.
Ken pursed his lips. “I’m not sure, but—”
A voice interrupted him, and Trace’s gaze snapped up.
“Hey, guys!” Jakob appeared from behind a pillar. “Check this out.” He motioned them to follow.
For whatever reason, Trace let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.
The party streamed their way after the brown-haired man as he led them down a side passage. At the very end of the hallway was a gilded door, slightly ajar. He pushed it open, revealing a small room, barely able to fit the group, but it was filled with chests— actual treasure chests.
“This is—” Ken dashed forward, eyes wide. “The treasure room!”
“You’re a beautiful bastard, Jakob!” Kat practically threw herself into the room.
“Sheeeesh, that’s a lotta loot.” Liz strolled in after, not in as much of a rush as the others. “How’d you manage to unlock the treasure room?”
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“The door was open when I found it.” He waited for Trace, ushering her in. She nodded, entering second-to-last before the door softly swivelled shut. “Which means the boss is dead.”
Kat and Ken paused, but Liz just nodded. “Kinda disappointed that we didn’t get to kill the boss ourselves. But hey, free loot, am I right?” She hefted a chest open, grinning.
“Wait, how do we know that?” Trace was puzzled. “We didn’t see a body, right?”
Jakob explained. “We didn’t, but treasure rooms can’t be opened until the boss is killed. That’s just how it works. Every thread I’ve read online has said the same thing. And since the treasure room was unlocked…” He let the implication settle in.
She peered over the shoulders of her party as they rummaged through the chests; there were a lot of the white cards worth thousands of credits each, far more valuable than anything dropped by the ogrebears or bladeworms. But more than that—
“Dude! Look at this, Trace!” Liz pulled a black sword from a chest. She unsheathed it, her eyes lighting up and sparkling with excitement. “This is literally a thousand times better than my dumb sword from that antique shop, for real.” Her previous blade had been a store-bought katana which was already showing wear on its metallic surface. This, however, was a proper longsword, complete with an ornate hilt lined with gold decorations.
Trace inspected the weapon, and a voice spoke in her head.
[(F+) Obsidian Longsword – Inflicts additional fire damage with each hit.]
“Fuck— you scared me.” She stumbled back.
“Oops. Sorry.” Liz quickly sheathed the Obsidian Longsword, scratching the back of her head.
“No, not you. Ex just surprised me by describing your new weapon.”
“Ex?” Kat glanced up, curious.
“My, erm, AI. I gave him a nickname.”
Jakob frowned. “You named your AI? You do realise it’s not a pet, right?”
“Oh, piss off, arsehole.” Scowling, Trace drew back defensively. “It’s not a term of endearment. I just couldn’t memorise his bloody name.”
“Whatever— here.” He stood up, handing her what seemed to be a pistol suppressor. She took it, blinking.
“What is this?”
“Some kind of pistol enhancement part; been seeing them talked about online. You can upgrade ordinary rifles and pistols with the things you get from these Dungeons. And they’re way better than what you can get at gun shops. Thought it’d be useful to you.”
Trace narrowed her eyes. Hey, Ex, can you do what you did earlier for the Obsidian Longsword, but for this?
[(D-) Shot Amplifier - Increases the kinetic energy of bullets by 3 times.]
“Holy fuck. Won’t that make my bullets— I’ve got to try this out.” She equipped the Shot Amplifier onto her pistol and ran out of the treasure room. “Thanks!”
“Hey, what are you—” Liz reached a hand out, but Trace had already escaped down the long corridor.
The redhead wasn’t a big gun geek. However, she could appreciate a good upgrade, especially after she familiarised herself with her pistol over the past few days. She was starting to see the appeal of firearms. Standing alone in the empty boss room, she raised her pistol and braced herself.
“Let’s see what you can do.” She pulled the trigger.
Click.
She hesitated. “Why didn’t it? ...” Trace tried again.
Click.
Now, she took a step back and eyed her weapon. “Why isn’t it working?” She shook it and knocked the side as if it was some kind of electronic. It still didn’t fire.
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[You do not currently meet the requirement necessary to use the Shot Amplifier.]
“I don’t?” She went cross-eyed.
[You require an D- rank for magic to wield the Shot Amplifier. However, your magic is currently at F+, a rank below the requirement.]
“How the fuck does that work?”
Ex didn’t respond, and the eerie silence of the boss room sank in once again. It was like a switch had been flipped. She was hyperaware of her surroundings and her own mortality. At any moment, she could die.
All it would take was a sneak attack…
“Ugh, that sucks.” Trace trudged her way back down the hallway, talking to herself. She glanced back one last time: it remained still and quiet. She continued trying to calm her nerves. “I’ll have to reach my class evolution killing ogrebears to use this damn—”
A figure appeared around the corner, and she jolted back.
“Fuck, Liz. You scared me.”
“Sorry. Just following in your footsteps. Wanna give this thing a couple swings!” The black-haired woman lifted her Obsidian Longsword, rushing down the corridor.
Trace entered the treasure room, only for Jakob and Kat to dart out from the doorway.
“Give that back you—”
“I saw it first, you f—”
“What’s with them?” The door closed, leaving only Ken and Trace in the room.
The man sighed. “Arguments over loot. As I expected.” He got to his feet, leaving the treasure room. “I’ll have to separate them before they kill each other. And no, that’s not a joke. It might actually happen— I’ve seen it in a few livestreams, teams devolving to murder because they didn’t get what they wanted.”
“What about everything else?” Trace raised a brow.
“You keep it. It’s all just miscellaneous items, anyway.” The door closed behind him, leaving the redhead in a room full of treasure chests.
“It’s because I brought the bag, didn’t I? Sorry that I’m the only one who actually prepared for this.” She lowered her backpack, filling it with the various items left behind.
There were those worthless credits vied for by the Precursors of Peace; a blue liquid in a glass bottle; some gems of different colours; various hand tools and needles; and a handful of glinting metal fragments.
“What even are these things used for?”
[(G) Hand Tools – Tools used for repairing and crafting basic equipment.
(G) Potion Base – The base ingredient needed to make a potion.
(F-) Aetheric Shards – Bits of rock imbued with aether.
(F) Reinforced Iron Scraps – Remnants of iron ingot enchanted for durability.]
Trace sat alone in the small room. She shook her head, muttering, “So, potions are a thing, huh?” It was, as she had observed many times, like a video game. But it no longer felt as surreal as before. “Of course, it is.” She packed everything into her bag, including the Shot Amplifier, and stood on her feet. “Also, what even is aether?”
She looked up in thought, and an eye stared down at her.
A morbidly corpulent creature clung to the ceiling, its rotund body rimpled with thin spikes like needles. It had no head and no legs. A mass of wrinkled tendrils that seemed to flail without motion. Its entire being was its face, and it met Trace’s gaze with a single crescent-shaped pupil.
It was like looking into the void. There was no trace of a reflection in that eye. It instilled the same terror one felt when seeing an empty mirror.
Trace dropped to her knees, her mouth moving but nothing coming out. The only thing she could hear was her heart thumping in her chest. One of its feelers slowly descended without a sound as she reached for her gun, whispering.
“Ex… that isn’t the Dungeon boss, right?”
[Negative,] her AI said, a reassuring voice in the utter silence of the claustrophobic room. [That is… emergency. Emergency. EMERGENCY.]
Ex’s voice blared in her head as she raised her pistol. More tendrils slithered down the walls. Trace Taylor spoke once more. “Please, Ex, tell me what I’m dealing with.”
[Bne Worldeater - L̴̢̗̣̯̼̱̻̲̼͈̹͉̥̣̯͌͂͋̀͗̀͒̀̈́͘v̷̢̨̢̛͙̰͈̼͚̮̮̻̍̉̊̄͗͗́͛̐͂̀̈́̃̑l̴̢̦͚̭̻͎͉̯̟̿͗̄́̽͛̑ ̷͍̠̅̓̉͘N̴̨͖̱̲̺̦͙͉̗̿̌͛̒̂̽̀͆̚/̶̨̢̙͍̥͖͖͔̯̬̝͎͙̖͒͜A̸̛̯͈̞̦̹̘̱̹̮̹̺̣.]
“I see. Thank you.”
She fired three bullets, and the tendrils shot forward. A scream emptied Trace’s lungs of her terror as it tried to grab her. Her bullets did nothing to the monster, sinking into its decaying skin like it was made of water. She tried to remain calm and analyse the creature, but she couldn’t pinpoint a weak spot— her Deadly Sight skill useless in the face of a monster with no level.
Drawing her combat knife, she struck at the encroaching tendrils and made a break for the door. It simply knocked the knife out of her hand before snatching her pistol away. It dropped from the ceiling right as Trace burst out of the treasure room.
“Liz—” she cried out.
Her best friend was sprinting down the hallway, having heard the gunshots. Elizabeth Evergreen reached for Trace as the rest of their party followed behind, but a tendril grabbed the redhead, and the monster collapsed through the floor.
Trace found herself being dragged through the earth as her friends screamed. The stone floor opened up into a black barrier— one that should’ve halted their fall. And yet, the Bne Worldeater plunged straight into the darkness: it parted for the creature like a receding ocean.
The shouts of her friends grew more and more distant until there was nothing. It was like she had fallen into the deep sea. She could only struggle and squirm in this world of black, accompanied by nothing but a silent monster.
She couldn’t hear herself breathing any longer, let alone her screams. She was drowning in the noiseless world. Then the creature burst up, exploding into one of the tunnels of the labyrinth. Sound returned to her with Ex’s words.
[Objective: exterminate the Bne Worldeater. Do not let it escape.]
Trace couldn’t even muster up a retort. She frantically raised her last free limb— her right hand— summoning her pistol back with Recall Weapon. There was a flash from one of the monster’s tendrils. The handgun reappeared in her grip. She fired a shot at its eye.
“Fuck—”
The Bne Worldeater grabbed her hand, strangling her wrist. The pistol fell out of her hand as the last bullet she fired disappeared into the monster’s pupil. It was completely unaffected.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She writhed in pain. “How the fucking fuck am I supposed to kill this thing?!” Squeezing her eyes shut, she hoped and prayed for an answer from Ex.
He simply repeated himself. [Objective: exterminate the Bne Worldeater. Do not let it escape.]
“Are you f—"
The creature touched her forehead with a tendril. And a ringing sound ran through her head as Ex’s words turned into a stuttering mess.
[Err̶͈̓̇͜or. eRrơ̷̧͉̥̩͖̥̹̜̣͇̒̌̚͜ͅR. E̸̢̡̬̤̫̱̥̹̜͆̇́̄̈́̀̈́͛́̃́̐̓͂̚rR—o̷̢͍̞͕̭̭͕͉̠̲̠͆̄͗̄̀̂̊͜ͅr̵̡̧̛̟̙͈̼͙͈̥̲̘̆͒̓̓̓͋̏̚ͅ.̵̰̩̺̍̈ ̸̢̼̺͇̦̗̬̮̺͇̙̬̖̇̈́͛̿Ę̶̧͕͉͈̗̝̼͇͎͙̩͔̎́͗͗̈́̇͂͑̂̕r̸̗̼̜̼̣̪̀̂̉͋Ṛ̵̡̤̫̹̉͜o̴̡̨̨̠̠͚̹͓̣̹̙̹̺̒̈́̔͜͝R̶̨̧̘̰̖͇̈̂̅̂̍̋̂͋̋̑͋̓̾͝.̷̨̢̹͇̣̺̜̯̯̖̏̏͊̈́̑̒̇͛̿́̏͜ͅͅ ̴̧̧͍̫͚̯͖͍̩̬̣̟̉̿̒͒́̀̔̽̑̃̊̉Ę̵̡̫̞̳͚̜̙̋̿͋̈̀̓͘r̸̈́̓̀̉̆̑͜R̴̨͇͊̍̾̓͒̋́̀O̸̧̙͕̟̠̜̒͋͗̈́̌͌̾̊͆͘ͅr̷͖̗͎̹̜̬͔̦̬̹͛͌̉͌̾͌̓̌͆̓͆̄̾̀̒͜.̷͙̰̦̭̪͍̄̆̽̌͌̋̈́͒͗̕͝ ̶̹̲́́̔͐̇̂͊̍̽̀̕Ĕ̸̸̸̸̡̢̢̛̛̻̯̳͔᷿̥̜᷿̦͓̬᷊̝̝̼̬͚̬̝̭̟̓̑ͫ͋̄᷅̅͛̄̌̅̾̎ͦ᷅᷄̎ͥ̽̉ͫ͆᷄̒᷾͋᷀ͮ͒̊̉̉᷅̓̅͘͘͢͟͝R̷̸̶̸̸̢̢̛̫̱͎̝̺͙̙͈̟͔̰͖̻̻͙̥̠̬͍᷊̪̫̺͚͓ͭ̓᷾̓̾͂ͨͯ᷁̈́̉͑ͯ᷃͋ͯ̆͗ͮ᷅͗᷁̈́̑᷄ͫ᷁̚̕͞R̸̴̶̸̸̡̖͎̻̭̙̖̩᷂̙̰̖᷂̯̱̙͉̰̖͙͕̦̼᷾͆̀ͯ͒̊̌᷾ͬ̈͆̇̔̂̔͒ͫ̐᷄͛᷉ͣ͐᷄̀᷁̇́̿᷇ͣ̚̕͢͡O̸̸̴̡͓͔̟᷿̮̭͎͇̝͔̥̤͔͕̤̺̯͈̳̘͓̺̫̯̮᷃᷇ͬ̽̐᷁̍͂᷀᷄̋͒̍ͯͯ̐̍͌͆̋᷀̑̊ͧ̍̆ͩ̏ͭͪͪ͟͠͝R̴̸̟͖͔᷊͚̎͗͋̋̄̃̇͛͘͏̶̸̸̴̴̛̺̩̙̤̠̤̞᷿̘̙̯̳̪̮̯̳̜̉ͩͧ̽̆̉ͦ̌ͣ͐ͣ̓͗̃ͤ̍ͤͥ̎͌̇̀͘.̶̧̖̊̃͐̀̊̈́̍͝.]
He went silent.
Trace’s eyes fluttered rapidly, her vision almost fading away. She struggled to stay awake as the vague resemblance of footfalls approached.
Then the creature seized the back and side of her head with two more tendrils. Trace couldn’t even turn her neck anymore. She felt something similar to shocks of electricity flowing through her body as she saw flashes.
Memories.
She remembered growing up in a different country. The weather was dreadful, always cloudy and bleak, but she had been happy. Trace Taylor smiled as her parents and grandparents embraced her.
Then her grandparents vanished. Only Mother and Father stood with her, tightly holding onto the little girl as they boarded a plane. The family arrived in an unfamiliar yet familiar city. And despite the vibrant colours of autumn, the kind warmth of summer, and the cheery breeze of spring, she only ever felt the cold loneliness of winter.
Trace sat in a classroom as names were called out. They weren’t her names, but they were directed at her. Children could be cruel. So, she turned her ire toward her parents. Arguments. Fighting. Regret.
Whether it was just a rebellious stage of her life or something more, Trace vied for some freedom. She wanted to learn about herself before she truly became an adult in college. Just a year off. But again, there was friction. Again, she ran away.
To her sanctuary: to her best friend, Liz. Where life would always be perfect. Until it wasn’t.
New memories flashed through Trace’s mind. An alien kidnapped her and forced a femtochip into her head. A humanoid rat monster tossed her around like a ragdoll. A madman who spoke in verse tried to murder her. Now, this.
Trace’s vision returned. Her eyes snapped open as the tendrils retreated from her head.
A single eye gazed into her mind, and she stared back into it.
“W-what do you want? ...”
She didn’t expect a response. And yet, a deep and gravelly voice spoke. Slowly. Methodically. Not audible to her ears. Only in her mind.
Do you not hear me, hero of my foe? Now listen, learn, I have much truth to say.
“You can… talk?” She didn’t know what else to say. But another voice spoke out for her.
Liz shouted. “Let her go, you monster!” The black-haired woman appeared and sliced the tendrils holding Trace in half. A fire burned where the Bne Worldeater was cut, and it let out a horrible screech that shivered and cracked with the shaking of the earth.
The creature tried to break the ground, escape once more into the void no one else could breach. However, a powerful blast struck it from the side. Jakob unloaded his shotgun at the abdominous being, while Kat set fire to the floor and the ceiling. Ken leapt up to it, spinning and slashing at its tendrils.
Another scream from the monster. Trace covered her ears, although it did nothing to muffle the sound. Can they not hear it? She glanced at Liz who was charging the creature with no hesitation. Why are they trying to kill it?
The redhead froze. She remembered the objective that Ex had given her; her friends likely received the same missive. She reeled back as another wave of words washed over her head.
My cries and my pleas, will you silence them as well?!
The monster’s voice grew enraged as Liz tore apart more of its tendrils. The torn stumps regrew. The bullet holes left by Jakob closed moments after, while the charred flesh flaked back to normal even as Kat continued to burn it. Ken was knocked aside by a wild flail, and Trace crawled through the rubble.
[Trace Taylor,] Ex said, suddenly speaking in her head once more. [What are you going to do?]
She reached for her fallen pistol as the Bne Worldeater lashed out, knocking Liz back. Ken barely avoided this attack.
“Kill it. Just like you asked me to.” She stumbled to her feet, leaning against the wall.
[Do you not hear its words? It is asking for you to stop and listen.]
“Maybe.” She held up her gun. Her grip was unsteady. “But it will kill my friends.”
A tendril lanced down at Jakob. It grazed him in the arm, and he staggered away, dropping his broken shotgun.
She couldn’t just stand and watch. Not when her friends were fighting for their lives to save her. The monster’s words— it didn’t matter. Her friends’ lives were at stake. Steeling herself, Trace aimed at the monster’s only vital organ.
Its brain.
It had been in her head; it saw her past and learned her words. But it didn’t just get a glimpse of her. Trace saw into its abyss, and her skill somehow worked. Deadly Sight let her pinpoint where its brain was. At the right of the Bne Worldeater, just beside its eye. It was small. No larger than a bullet.
It wouldn’t have been easy to hit. If not for her other skill: Improved Accuracy.
A single shot was all that it would take. The Bne Worldeater rose as the party surrounded it. It bellowed in righteous anger, only heard by Trace and Ex.
I will be heard—
Trace fired. A shot to kill. Not aided by magic. It simply struck true, piercing through its skin, and digging out its brain. Its body began to deflate, gently floating to the ground. It almost seemed to sigh.
I am ignored, condemned to rot. Salvation comes for me, and now it’s your damnation that shall thus be wrought.
It collapsed, a pile of decomposing skin and flesh. Its eye looked up at the ceiling, emptier than before. A putrid stench wafted from the corpse of the monster as Trace lowered her weapon.
“Shitface.”
Then she collapsed and passed out.
[Your party has defeated a Bne Worldeater! Additional experience is earned for completing an objective!
[(F) Deadly Sight has reached level 9!
(F) Deadly Sight has reached level 10!
(F) Deadly Sight has reached max level!
(F+) Recall Weapon has reached level 4!
(F+) Recall Weapon has reached level 5!
Spellshot has reached level 10!
You have reached level 10 in your class! Multiple class evolution options can now be chosen!
Spellshot has reached level 11!
Spellshot has reached level 12!]
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8 202 - In Serial35 Chapters
Roommates with the dickhead
𝔏𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔡 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔯, 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔡 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔦𝔪.𝔅𝔲𝔱 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔤𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯, 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔭𝔦𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔢.𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔲𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔧𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔢𝔶, 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯,𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔫𝔢 ~ 𝑆𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑀𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑉𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎 ~ after certain shit happened to her she said enough is enough, she realized that the people she thought she could always count on weren't really that reliable so as she continued on with her life she couldn't exactly find those right people which inevitably led her to becoming antisocial. She continued this way of living even when she started going to college until she somehow became roommates with a certain badboy𝑀𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐷𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑛 ~ He has been pushed to his limits and when he finally fought back he was presumed the mean one. When all he needed was a hug, he was handed a box of matches and a knife. He is a ticking time bomb and now the question is would Vanessa shut it down or set it off?
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