Five sec-

There was a tremendous noise. Blood fountained out of each of the boar's cheeks, and more poured out through a hole in its throat. A piece of shrapnel zinged past Solomon's ear to snap into the dirt.

Solomon didn't move. The last bit of HP healing that had washed over him had healed his internal injuries, but he had run out of HP before it could fix his limbs. Even so, he could have dragged himself to his feet. He didn't.

He had given it his best shot. He was tired. He was hurt. If his best wasn't enough, then continuing to fight really would just be inflicting pointless suffering on himself.

The boar swayed on its feet. Solomon held his breath. The bomb had gone off in the boar's mouth. Shrapnel had blasted through its skin in at least three directions. The question was whether enough shrapnel had been blasted straight up, or if the system would sweep all the damage away in exchange for HP.

The boar stumbled forward a couple of steps. One knee buckled, then another. Slowly, ponderously, it fell to the ground. Solomon sighed in relief.

A mess of blue boxes appeared all at once.

Congratulations on defeating BOSS HOGG and conquering the dungeon!

1000 dungeon coins have been deposited to your account!

You have been awarded a Zone Command Token (1/3) for being the first to clear this dungeon!

Congratulations on completing a successful combat encounter! Your Improvised Weapons Mastery has been raised to level MAX. You have been awarded 34 Grid Points! Congratulations on completing your arena battle! Surviving combatants will be restored to their original state! Congratulations on your successful wager! 950 dungeon coins have been deposited to your account!

A wave of relief swept through Solomon as his injuries were magicked away by the system. His HP and MP were also restored to full. His hand was still missing, but that was to be expected. He was back in fighting trim.

Solomon groaned and rolled over onto his back. He stared up at the sky.

Was it the sky? It looked like the sky. Robin's egg blue. Fluffy clouds. The sun.

So where was he? Solomon felt like he would have seen it on the news if somebody had build an open air death match arena in eastern Oregon. This was something the system had brought into existence. Or something that it had tucked away in a pocket dimension, like his inventory writ large.

Why was a system of such impossible power using that power to mess with him? Not just him, as to all appearances everybody on Earth was being put through the same wringer. It certainly didn't seem like the planet had anything the system really needed.

The system portrayed itself as some kind of game. Following its guidance and facing its obstacles, Solomon had bludgeoned animals to death. He'd pinned an animal down with his foot and stabbed it until it stopped moving. He'd built all manner of weapons and used them to the very limit of his ability. It had been just barely enough to keep him alive. So far.

If this was a game, Solomon felt more like a game piece than a player.

Well, maybe the Zone Command Token would let him do something about that. Solomon pulled himself to his feet and opened his inventory. The command token was there, not that it looked like anything special. If the system hadn't told him what it was he would have thought it was some kind of participation medal.

He held it in his hand for a moment. Despite his best efforts, the system completely failed to open up any kind of new interface or new options. Solomon gave up and put the token back in his inventory. He probably needed to collect all three before he could do anything.

A heat shimmer caught his eye. Solomon turned just in time to see the boss's body fade away. Something was left behind. It looked like arena fights came with actual loot drops. He had a bit of a spring in a step as he walked over. It was always nice to get new stuff when you were feeling blue.

Solomon's smile turned into a frown when he drew close enough to see what the boss had left behind. There was a jumbo sized beast core, which was all well and good, except that it was sitting next to a pair of fingerless leather gloves.

He waved his hook aimlessly at the sky, wishing for a moment that he had built a prosthetic with enough articulation to make rude gestures. Then he sighed, picked up the loot, and tossed it in his inventory. It wasn't like he was in a position to be picky.

He took one last look around, but the only visible feature on the arena floor was the familiar stone plinth and ball of light that had appeared every time he cleared a floor. This time, when Solomon walked over and touched the light, he only had one option: exit the dungeon.

The light flashed. When Solomon's vision cleared, he found himself standing back in the anteroom from which he had entered the dungeon in the first place.

Mort's store was right where he had left it. Solomon made a beeline for the entrance. He had some money burning a hole in his pocket. More importantly, he wanted some answers.

There was nobody standing behind the counter. The door to the back room was closed. Solomon just made his way to the front of the store and rang the bell for service.

He heard the thud of something hitting the ground in the back. A moment later, the door crashed open and Mort stalked into the room. Mort was again—still?—wearing his bathrobe and slippers. No cigar was in evidence this time.

"You're back already?" Mort asked. For the first time, Solomon thought he saw an expression of honest surprise on his face. Then he frowned. "Please tell me you didn't give up early."

In response, Solomon opened up his inventory. He pulled out the command token and slapped it down on the counter.

Mort stared down at the metal disk for a moment, lost in thought. Then he pulled a cigar from an inside pocket, lit it, and took a puff.

Solomon waited. A moment later Mort pointed at him with the cigar.

"Kid, you just might be able to pull this off."