The snow leopard ignored the hare and pulled something from inside their cloak—a small, crystal cube that glowed with a faint blue light. It was roughly the size of a Rubik's cube, with intricate runes carved into each face.

  "You know what this is?" they asked.

  I squinted at it. "A fancy paperweight?"

  "It's a pocket dungeon," the snow leopard said, as if that explained everything.

  There was a long pause.

  "A what now?" I asked.

  The snow leopard sighed, the kind of sigh that suggested they were already regretting this conversation. "A pocket dungeon. It's exactly what it sounds like. A dungeon, but pocket-sized. You can buy these things all over the place—toy shops, general stores, whatever. Most of them are pretty tame. Good for training, skill grinding, that sort of thing."

  "Okay..." I said slowly.

  "But this one," the snow leopard continued, holding up the crystal cube, "is special. This one came from the black market. Which means it's dangerous. But also? Big rewards. The kind of rewards that make it worth the risk."

  Mira flew closer to examine the cube. "How dangerous are we talking?"

  "Dangerous enough that I'm not going in myself," the snow leopard said with a grin that showed sharp fangs. "But not so dangerous that a group of scrappy newcomers couldn't handle it. Probably."

  "'Probably' is not reassuring," Mira said flatly.

  "So what's the job?" I asked, my curiosity overriding my sense of self-preservation. Again.

  The snow leopard's grin widened. "Simple. You go into the dungeon. You clear it—kill whatever's inside, disable the traps, all that fun stuff. And at the very end, there's a crystal chest. You bring me that chest. Without opening it."

  "Why can't we just open it?” i asked.

  "Those things are usually cursed or trapped or both. If you open it, you deal with the consequences. I want it sealed and intact."

  "That seems sus," I said.

  "Oh, it's incredibly sus," the snow leopard agreed cheerfully. "But you're broke, I need this done, and we both know you're going to say yes because you literally have no other options."

  They weren't wrong.

  "How much are we talking?" I asked.

  The snow leopard held up the jingling pouch. "Five hundred gold. Up front. Another five hundred when you deliver the chest."

  My eyes widened. "A thousand gold total?"

  "That's how math works, yes."

  I looked at Mira, who looked skeptical. I looked at the hare, who looked terrified. I looked at Kitten Cowboy, who was already giving the snow leopard a hard stare.

  Then I looked back at the snow leopard. "How do we even get into a pocket dungeon? Does it, like, expand or something?"

  "No, you shrink," the snow leopard said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "You hold the cube, activate it with a drop of blood, and it pulls you inside. When you're done, you come back out the same way. The chest will come with you—just stick it in your inventory before you exit."

  "Wait, how do I—"

  "You just put it in your inventory," the snow leopard interrupted, making a vague gesture.

  Fair point.

  "So," the snow leopard said, tossing the pouch of gold into the air and catching it. "Do we have a deal? You clear the dungeon, bring me the chest unopened, and you get a thousand gold. Enough to, say, afford an hour with that nice lady you were talking to earlier."

  My face flushed. "You saw that?"

  "Everyone saw that," the snow leopard said, their tail swishing with amusement. "You weren't exactly subtle."

  "DANIEL," Mira said urgently. "Can we discuss this privately for a second?"

  "Sure," I said, turning away from the snow leopard.

  We huddled together in a tiny circle.

  "This is obviously a terrible idea," Mira whispered.

  "OBVIOUSLY," the hare agreed.

  "But we need the money," I whispered back. "And it's not like we have any other prospects right now."

  "We could find a normal job," Mira suggested. "Like washing dishes again. Or sweeping floors. Or literally anything that doesn't involve going into a cursed dungeon from the black market."

  "Pew," Kitten Cowboy added, which I interpreted as either agreement or disagreement—it was hard to tell with the kitten.

  "Look," I said, trying to sound reasonable. "We're in a city in Hell. Everything here is dangerous. At least this way we get paid and gain experience. We level up, learn how to fight, and make a thousand gold. That's a win-win-win."

  "That's not how wins work," Mira said.

  "It is now," I said firmly.

  I turned back to the snow leopard, who was still playing with that gold coin, looking completely relaxed.

  "We'll do it," I said.

  The snow leopard's grin returned. "Excellent." They tossed me the pouch of gold, which I caught awkwardly. It was heavier than I expected—the weight of five hundred gold coins.

  "Half now, half on delivery," the snow leopard repeated, then handed me the crystal cube. "Blood on any surface to activate. The dungeon will pull you in automatically. Clear it, grab the chest, come back out. Easy."

  "What exactly is in the dungeon?" I asked, holding the cube carefully.

  "No idea," the snow leopard said cheerfully. "That's part of the fun! Black market pocket dungeons are randomized. Could be goblins, could be undead, could be sentient furniture. Who knows?"

  "Sentient furniture?" the hare squeaked.

  "It's happened," the snow leopard said with a shrug. "Anyway, good luck. Try not to die. I'll be waiting for you back here with your second payment."

  "Wait, how long do we have?" I asked.

  "As long as you need," the snow leopard said. "Time moves differently inside pocket dungeons—an hour in there might only be a few minutes out here. But I'd recommend not taking too long, since the dungeon will start getting more difficult the longer you stay inside. Keeps things interesting."

  "Of course it does," I muttered.

  The snow leopard paused mid-step, their tail freezing in the air. They glanced back over their shoulder, eyes glinting dangerously in the dim light.

  "Oh, and one more thing," they said, their voice dropping to a low, cold purr that sent a shiver down my spine. "Don't even think about running off with my money. And don't get any clever ideas about selling that dungeon to someone else."

  The temperature in the alley seemed to drop several degrees.

  "I have a very particular set of skills," the snow leopard continued, their smile now showing far too many teeth. "And a very long memory. If you try to cheat me I will find you. And when I do..." They let the threat hang in the air, unfinished but perfectly clear.

  "This city might be big," they added softly, "but it's not big enough to hide from me. Trust me on that."

  "We won't," I managed to say, my mouth suddenly dry. "We'll get you the chest."

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  The snow leopard's expression shifted back to that casual, cheerful grin. "Excellent! I knew we'd understand each other. Now, off you go. Happy hunting!"

  The snow leopard gave us a casual two-fingered salute and then simply... melted back into the shadows of the alley. One moment they were there, the next they were gone, leaving only the faint jingle of coins and the swish of a ringed tail disappearing around a corner.

  I stood there, holding the glowing crystal cube in one hand and the pouch of gold in the other.

  "Well," I said to my companions. "I guess we're dungeon diving."

  "I hate everything about this," Mira said.

  "SAME," the hare added.

  "Pew pew," Kitten Cowboy said, holstering its revolvers and looking remarkably excited about the prospect of violence.

  I looked down at the crystal cube. The runes carved into its surface pulsed with that faint blue light, and I could swear I heard something—distant sounds, like echoes of combat or the scrape of claws on stone.

  "Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. "So we just need to prick our finger, put some blood on this thing, and—"

  "NOT HERE," Mira interrupted, looking around the alley nervously. "Let's at least find somewhere less... public. And preferably less sketchy."

  She had a point. We were still in a narrow alley in the red light district, surrounded by the distant sounds of music and laughter and other things I tried not to think about too hard.

  "Right," I agreed, tucking the crystal cube and the pouch of gold into my inventory.

  ITEM STORED: Pouch of Gold (500 coins)

  We made our way back out of the alley and onto the main street of the red light district. The crowd had thinned slightly, but the energy was still there—that pulsing, intoxicating atmosphere that made everything feel slightly unreal.

  I spotted Lilith in her doorway, talking to a new client—a tall demon with curved horns and an expensive suit. She caught my eye and gave me a small nod.

  I waved back, feeling my face flush again.

  "Focus," Mira said, pinching my ear.

  "I am focused!" I protested.

  "You're focused on the wrong things."

  We walked for another ten minutes, leaving the red light district behind and entering a quieter residential area. The buildings here were simpler. Row houses with darkened windows, the occasional streetlamp casting pools of yellow light on the cobblestones.

  "We need somewhere to stay for the night," Mira said, looking around.

  It didn't take long. A few blocks later, we came across a worn wooden sign hanging from a building that read "THE COPPER BED - CHEAP ROOMS - NO QUESTIONS ASKED" in faded letters.

  "Perfect," I said.

  The inside of the hostel was exactly what you'd expect from a place advertising cheap rooms in Hell. The lobby was small and cramped, with peeling wallpaper and a desk that looked like it had survived several small wars. Behind the desk sat an elderly goblin woman with spectacles perched on her nose, reading a newspaper.

  She looked up as we entered. "One night?"

  "Yes please," I said.

  "Fifty gold," she said flatly.

  I blinked. "Fifty? That seems—"

  "You want a room or not?" the goblin interrupted, already looking back down at her newspaper.

  "We'll take it," I said quickly, fishing out fifty gold coins from my pouch and sliding them across the desk.

  The goblin swept the coins into a drawer without counting them and handed me a tarnished brass key with the number "7" stamped on it. "Third floor. No smoking. No summoning. No loud music. No orgies. Breakfast isn't included."

  "Got it," I said, taking the key.

  We climbed the creaky stairs to the third floor and found room seven at the end of a dim hallway. I unlocked the door and pushed it open.

  The room was... well, it was a room. Two narrow beds with thin mattresses, a single window with curtains that might have been white once upon a time, and a small table with two chairs. There was also a vending machine in the corner, which seemed oddly out of place.

  "Home sweet home," I muttered, closing the door behind us.

  Mira immediately claimed one of the beds and sat down with a sigh. "Finally. Actual furniture."

  The hare hopped onto the other bed and curled up into a ball. "THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE."

  Kitten Cowboy settled onto the windowsill, keeping watch over the street below with surprising vigilance.

  I walked over to the vending machine and peered at its contents. It was stocked with an odd assortment of snacks—some I recognized from Earth, others that looked distinctly different. There were bags of chips, candy bars, something labeled "Brimstone Jerky," and what appeared to be pickled eyeballs in a jar.

  "I'm actually kind of hungry," I said, surprised to realize it was true. After everything that had happened today, my stomach was reminding me I hadn't eaten in nine hours.

  I fed a few gold coins into the machine and pressed the button for chips. The machine hummed and dropped the bag with a satisfying thunk.

  I grabbed the chips and sat down at the small table, tearing open the bag. They were salt and vinegar flavored, which was oddly comforting. Some things were universal, apparently.

  "So," Mira said from her bed, "are we really doing this? The dungeon thing?"

  "We already took the money," I said between crunches. "And honestly, I don't think that snow leopard was bluffing about hunting us down if we don't deliver."

  "They definitely weren't bluffing," Mira agreed darkly. "Did you see their eyes when they made that threat? That was someone who's killed before."

  "TERRIFYING," the hare added from the other bed.

  "Pew," Kitten Cowboy said quietly from the window, which somehow conveyed agreement.

  I ate another chip, thinking. "Look, what else are we going to do? We're stuck with no clear way out and barely any resources. At least this gives us something to work toward."

  I stood up and pulled the crystal cube from my inventory. It appeared in my hand with that same faint blue glow, the runes pulsing gently across its surfaces.

  "Alright," I said, taking a deep breath. "No point in putting this off. Everyone ready?"

  "Still no," Mira said, but she got up from the bed and came to stand beside me. The hare reluctantly hopped down to join us, and Kitten Cowboy leaped from the windowsill to land on my shoulder.

  "Right," I said, looking at the cube. "Blood activation. Here we go."

  I held up my hand and, after a moment's hesitation, turned toward Kitten Cowboy.

  "Can you prick my finger?"

  Kitten Cowboy looked up at me with its big eyes, then raised one tiny paw. With a single precise movement, it extended one needle-sharp claw and delicately pricked the tip of my index finger.

  A small bead of blood welled up immediately.

  "Ow," I said, more out of surprise than actual pain. "Thanks, I think."

  "Pew," Kitten Cowboy replied, retracting its claw with obvious satisfaction.

  "Everyone stay close," I said, and pressed my bleeding finger against one of the glowing runes.

  The reaction was immediate and overwhelming.

  The blue light exploded outward from the cube like a supernova, engulfing the entire room in brilliant azure radiance. I felt a sensation like being grabbed by invisible hands—or like reality itself was reaching out and pulling me somewhere else. The hostel room twisted and stretched around us, the walls bending impossibly, the furniture warping into abstract shapes.

  I heard Mira gasp, heard the hare let out a terrified squeak, felt Kitten Cowboy's claws dig into my shoulder.

  Then everything went white.

  There was a sensation of falling—or flying—or being compressed through a space too small to exist. Time felt elastic, stretching and snapping back like a rubber band. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only hold onto the crystal cube and hope that this was supposed to happen.

  And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.

  The light faded.

  The pulling sensation vanished.

  I stumbled forward and nearly fell, catching myself at the last second. My heart was racing, my breathing heavy, but I was intact. Alive.

  I looked around.

  We were no longer in the hostel room.

  We stood at the entrance of what looked like... a shopping mall food court?

  I blinked several times, trying to process what I was seeing. The "dungeon" was a vast underground space, sure, but instead of ominous stone corridors and dripping water, there were fluorescent lights flickering overhead, linoleum floors with suspicious stains, and what appeared to be a directory board with a map labeled "YOU ARE HERE" in Comic Sans font.

  "What the hell?" Mira said, speaking for all of us.

  The walls were painted a depressing beige color, and there were several closed storefronts visible in the distance—a "Hot Topic" with the lights off, something called "Sbarro's Eternal Torment," and what looked like a shuttered GameStop with a "GOING OUT OF BUSINESS" sign that had been there so long it had faded.

  Before I could say anything, golden text began to materialize in the air—but this time it appeared with the aesthetic of a PowerPoint presentation someone's uncle made in 2003, complete with a swooshing sound effect.

  CONGRATULATIONS! DUNGEON ENTRY CONFIRMED

  DUNGEON NAME: THE ABANDONED MALL OF MILD INCONVENIENCE

  RECOMMENDED LEVEL RANGE: 15-20 (but honestly it's more about the vibes)

  PARTY SIZE: 4 ?

  PARTY AVERAGE LEVEL: 7.75

  ?? NOTE: You're kinda underleveled but you'll probably be fine? Maybe? No promises.

  There was a pause. Then more text appeared:

  KNOWN INHABITANTS:

  - Bargain Bin Golems (Level 15-16): Made entirely of unsold merchandise. Slow but surprisingly determined. Weak to complaints.

  - Expired Food Court Spirits (Level 16-17): Ghosts of meals past. Can inflict "food poisoning" debuff. Smell terrible.

  - Mannequin Swarm (Level 17-18): Animate when you're not looking. Extremely passive-aggressive.

  - Karen (Level 19): Mini-boss. Will ask to speak to YOUR manager.

  - The Mall Manager (Level 20): Final boss. A former security guard who got locked in during closing and has become one with the mall.

  OBJECTIVE: Navigate the mall, avoid the inhabitants, and retrieve the Ancient Chest from Kevin's Lair (formerly the Macy's stockroom).

  SIDE QUESTS AVAILABLE: Yes (2)

  FAILURE CONDITION: Total party death.

  SPECIAL NOTE: The escalators don't work. You'll have to take the stairs. Sorry.

  GOOD LUCK!

  The golden text faded away with another swoosh sound effect.

  We all stood there in silence, staring at the empty food court ahead of us.

  "I hate this," Mira said finally.

  I looked around at our surroundings again. The fluorescent lights continued their annoying flicker. In the distance, I could hear what sounded like elevator music playing on a loop—a muzak version of a song I almost recognized but couldn't quite place.

  "Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. "So we're in a dungeon that's also a dead mall. Sure. Why not. This might as well happen."

  "The snow leopard definitely didn't mention this part," Mira muttered.

  "I don't think they knew," I said. "But look on the bright side. There are side quests. Maybe we can grab some decent loot or experience."

  One of the storefronts I hadn't noticed before suddenly flickered to life.

  The lights in what looked like an old accessories store snapped on with an electrical buzz, flooding the space in harsh pink neon. Through the grimy windows, I could see something moving inside—multiple somethings, actually.

  "Uh," the hare said nervously. "WHAT'S THAT?"

  The store's security gate began to rattle and shake, the metal links clinking against each other with increasing violence. Whatever was inside was trying to get out.

  "We should probably move," Mira said, her voice tight.

  "Yeah," I agreed, backing away slowly. "Yeah, that sounds—"

  The security gate exploded outward with a deafening crash.

  A flood of mannequins poured out of the storefront like water from a broken dam. But these weren't normal mannequins—their plastic limbs moved with unnatural fluidity, their blank faces somehow conveying malicious intent. They were dressed in an assortment of mall fashion from various eras: crop tops and low-rise jeans, cargo shorts and flame-print button-ups, one even wore a full velour tracksuit.

  The golden text flashed urgently in my vision:

  ENCOUNTER: MANNEQUIN SWARM (x12)

  LEVEL: 17-18

  TIP: Whatever you do, DON'T BLINK.

  "RUN!" Mira shouted.