A gust of bitter wind slammed into my face the second I landed on floor ten. The cold did not creep. It hit with the fury of a resentment that had been waiting ages to settle. No room to adjust.

The landscape spread out in front of me, a bloodstained arena. Cliffs rose in a wide circle, jagged and stained deep red. They pressed in from all sides. No exits. No cover. A stone cage built to hold something way stronger than me or anyone dumb enough to step in.

The ground cracked under my boots. The surface twisted and spiraled where something massive had once clawed its way toward the light. Whatever it was almost broke through. Maybe it still could.

None of it was accidental. There was intent carved into every inch of that floor. It was not a decorative background. It was a warning.

Only The Strong Pass Here.

That message was carved into the air, into the walls, into the wind cutting through my cloak.

And yeah, it was working.

A pattern along the cliff wall caught my eye. Deep gouges, curling into tight arcs, the same shape I had seen etched into the shrine walls on floor six.

My HUD activated with a low hum. A topographic map flickered into view. It confirmed what I already felt. Tight layout. No cover. No trees. No room to run. Everything forced confrontation. The landscape was designed to trap you.

And then I saw the throne.

It waited a hundred yards away, shaped from solid black stone. The edges were harsh. It was not molded for comfort. It was built to impose. It did not belong to the floor. The floor belonged to it.

Then I glanced down.

A green circle glowed beneath me. It marked the start.

A new window opened. Light bled out from the center. Letters burned into place, one stroke at a time.

________________________________________

STEP OFF THE CIRCLE AND THE TIMER STARTS.

For the tenth-floor battle, you are allocated 1 hour to complete the fight. Failing to do so will teleport you back to the previous floor. You may attempt again after 24 hours. You may retreat at any time by reentering the circle.

________________________________________

Just what I needed. A ticking clock to remind me this was not going to be easy.

I rolled my neck. My fingers curled and flexed until the joints popped, and the stiffness fizzled out just enough to focus.

Fine. Let’s dance.

I let a grin spread. But the system kept going. Another screen pushed into view. Larger this time.

________________________________________

Tenth-Floor Ruler: Goblin King Krag

Defeat Him To Claim Control Over All Goblin-Held Floors.

Warning: Krag is guarded by Mirella and Nirella, the twin vixens, feared for their ruthless speed and lethal coordination.

________________________________________

I blinked.

Wait, vixens? Seriously? The game dropped in mini-boss waifus with “dangerously charming” stamped all over them.

More data pushed through. I scanned the text, already feeling the shift. This was not filler. These entries were not tossed in for style or lore padding.

________________________________________

Krag the Brutal

Risen from the shadowy depths of the Goblin Warrens, Krag earns his crown through blood and terror. His scarred frame is a history of violence, each gash a warning to challengers.
Krag wields the Crusher, a spiked club forged from the bones of fallen enemies. Capable of pulverizing steel and flesh alike. His nearly impenetrable skin shrugs off most conventional attacks.

In berserker mode, Krag’s strength and speed increase exponentially, turning him into a one-goblin apocalypse.

Mirella and Nirella, the Twin Vixens

Feared for their deadly grace and twisted charm, the twins became Krag’s most trusted enforcers after leading a slaughter-heavy raid on a rival tribe.

They are experts in deception, manipulation, and two-on-one murder-dancing.

Most who underestimate them? Don’t live to regret it.

________________________________________

Alright, truth be told, I was about to say something that would’ve got me banned from the chatroom.

Forget that. I mean, I finally had some girls worth noticing here. Goblins or not.

I walked with a little more swing in my step, riding the fake confidence boost after suddenly maxing charisma out of nowhere. My eyes locked onto the massive throne. That was when Krag pulled into focus.

And he was a walking nightmare.

He did not look built. He looked constructed. Ten feet tall if not more. Muscles layered so thick they almost shifted when he breathed, every fiber of him forged for impact.

His green skin was not smooth. It was torn and rebuilt, stretched tight across his frame, every scar a warning etched in flesh. His white hair stuck out in wild, stiff strands. Not styled. Not washed. Just chaos growing down his back that refused to be tamed.

He sat on that throne with a kind of ownership that was not loud. A monster comfortable in his skin, surrounded by the blood and bones of every reminder that he did not need to prove anything.

Then he grinned. It was wide. Serrated. A full row of teeth that looked overused and cruel.

And when he spoke?

“OHHH, A PUNY CHALLENGER!”

The sound was not just loud. It was low and physical, crawling down your spine and rattling something in your ribs.

I did not blink. I kept my hands in my pockets. I let my gaze slide to the female goblins lounging at his sides.

Mirella and Nirella.

Don’t ask me who was who. It didn’t matter. They both carried the same expression. Relaxed. Slight tilt of the head. Smiles that did not reach the eyes. Their postures said they were not worried. Their eyes said I should’ve been.

I cleared my throat, aiming for something between casual and not worth murdering.

“Let’s leave the ladies out of this duel, yeah? I’m not really into throwing hands with women. Especially when they look so… helpless and lovely.”

Mirella and Nirella giggled. Soft. Probably rehearsed.

Flirtation over something dangerous. A charm that bared its claws without apology.

Krag did not laugh. His eyes never moved. He watched me like I was some twitching specimen under a predator’s gaze.

But me? I wasn’t even fully there. Part of my brain had already gone off the rails. Thinking too far ahead. Running wild—

Recruit the twins.

I know. Idiotic. But the image played anyway.

Riverbanks with glittering water. Hot springs with too much steam and not enough logic. Mossy rocks under a wide sky where we pretended there was peace and not a bloodbath waiting at sunrise.

The stupid kind of dream.

You know the kind. You wake up, drool on your desk, algebra laughing in your face.

And then, bam. I yanked myself back to reality. Chin wiped clean. No time for daydreams, just another fool zoning out before the storm.

Krag rose.

“Of course,” he said, dragging every word through gravel. “I don’t plan to ask my women to help me fight, puny human.”

I squinted at him. There was something in his voice then that made me think he was going to back off from his words.

Then he reached for the club.

Not some standard blunt weapon. Covered in spikes and weight. Rage sculpted into shape.

Krag moved toward me. The twins stayed put. Still leaning, still lounging, eyes fixed on the moment as a performance unfolded with me at its center.

And that was all it took.

No opening bell. No system alert.

Just Krag coming at me, and everything else falling away.

The fight started now.

Krag made a lunge. Faster than he ought to have been.

I threw myself to the side. The air tore past my face just before his club slammed into the ground with enough force to shake the floor beneath me.

The impact snapped through stone. Shards flew. A shock ripped up through my legs.

“That was close,” I muttered. My body flooded with heat. Instant alert. No buffer. No space to think.

I did not wait. I called a hiishi round into the SlingBam and pulled the trigger.

BOOM.

Direct hit.

Fire burst across Krag’s chest in a rush of orange and heat. My aim held steady. The impact looked perfect. Even my brain let me smile.

“How about that?”

Smoke rolled over Krag. For a moment, just one heartbeat, it looked like my action had weight.

Then he walked forward.

Right through it.

No stagger. No hesitation. Fire reflected nothing against him.

His roar followed. It pushed into my chest and stole the breath right out of my lungs.

How much HP was he packing?

He was moving again. Faster now. That club of his raised and ready, swinging with a force that could have split concrete.

I threw myself into a dive, dropped into a tight roll, came up, and fired at his legs.

BOOM.

He stumbled. Just a little. Still, it slowed him for a second, and I clung to that like a lifeline.

Keep moving. If I stopped, I was done.

My boots thumped on the cracked ground as I sprinted, cut between fallen columns and sharp debris, vaulting broken walls. Each time I found an angle, I fired.

Every shot landed. Each one pushed in, just barely. Fragments of his armor chipped. But it was not enough. Like trying to crack a mountain with a fingernail.

And Krag knew it.

His eyes flared. Bright. Red. Alive with heat that should not have belonged to anything walking.

That was the moment everything turned.

He had gone into Berserker Mode.

Each step pounded harder. Every swing tore the air apart. His movements stopped pretending to follow physics.

One blow struck down, and the ground erupted. A loud crack raced across the arena floor. Then the shockwave hit.

I did not dodge it. I could not.

The force picked me up and hurled me backward. My spine hit first. Then my shoulders. The rest of me folded in after, collapsing into my own frame.

Lights burst behind my eyes. My thoughts splintered. Pain screamed across every inch of me, my nerves shredded through static.

I lay there for a second. Not because I wanted to. Because my body did not know how to get up.

Then I moved. I clawed my way off the ground with the desperate speed of something fleeing the sun.

Couldn’t keep going like this.

Something had to shift.

Now.

I scanned the arena, blinking hard, heart in my throat. There had to be something there I could use. Something I had missed. And I needed to find it before he turned me into pulp.

That was when I finally spotted it.

A boulder. Huge. Dropped right in the middle of the madness, nature’s cheat code left for the taking.

I ran. Behind me, Krag barreled forward, louder with every second.

I dove behind the boulder. Landed hard. Gasped a breath that barely filled my lungs.

The moment I heard him close in, I moved.

I sprang up from cover and unloaded.

Hiishi rounds streaked toward him and burst against Krag’s face in a wall of strobing light and smoke. The flashes burned bright, too much for the senses all at once.

He reeled. Just slightly. But it was enough.

I charged in.

Legs screaming, I sprinted at him and activated “Leap,” a skill I had unlocked on floor five, after that slime boss trauma I was still trying to forget.

As soon as the skill triggered, my feet lifted. My body snapped upward in an instant. I crashed into Krag’s shoulder and latched on.

His response was instantaneous. A roar that broke the air. His hand swung back to tear me off, but I did not let go. My grip dug in harder.

I climbed. Every second was a win. I reached the top of his back and straddled his shoulders.

Grinning without even thinking, I planted the SlingBam against his skull.

“SAYONARA, SUCKER!”

BOOM.

The shot detonated point blank. Everything went white for a blink.

It threw me. I lost hold and went airborne, launched high and fast in a messy spiral.

I dropped to the ground in a heap, bones rattling, pain running through my arms and ribs. Somehow I rolled to my feet, gasping, trying to pretend I had landed on purpose.

I turned to finish Krag.

And that was when they were there.

No footsteps. No warning. One blink and they appeared beside me.

Mirella on one side. Nirella on the other.

“You are so strong, human,” Mirella said, voice smooth and sugary. She leaned against my arm, her chest pressed close against it. Absolutely no concern for subtlety.

Nirella matched her on the opposite side. Her warmth crept through my sleeve.

My heartbeat went sideways. My brain stopped. Everything locked except one very loud alarm going off in the back of my skull.

PEACHES DETECTED! SYSTEMS FAILING!

My cheeks went hot. My face was probably red enough to light a campfire.

“You bet I am,” I said, and the voice that came out belonged to a boy in a school hallway, not a guy who had just pulled off a boss takedown.

Nirella leaned in closer. Her breath brushed my ear. “Do you want to play with us, mighty warrior?”

“I would not miss it for the world,” I replied, not missing a beat.

They glanced at each other. Something clicked between them, silent and eerily synced. Then they each grabbed an arm and pulled. Slowly. Gently. Lifting them wide until I was standing there like an awkward ritual puppet. No resistance. No choice.

“Ladies?” I said, trying to keep it light, but my voice jumped an octave. “What are you doing?”

They both smiled. That strange, unsettling mirror of movement.

“Playing with you,” they answered together. No joke in their tone.

Something in my gut dropped. Not a warning. A sentence.

And then Krag rose.

He was standing again.

Somehow.

His body looked wrecked. His skin was split and burning, his breathing ragged, but his eyes burned hotter than ever. That heat drilled straight into me.

“Having fun, puny human?” His voice did not echo anymore. It crushed. Raw hate packed into every word.

My mouth opened. “How the hell are you still standing?”

He did not answer, just lifted the club. His expression did not change. It did not show pain nor doubt. Just fury.

Then the blow came down. A direct hit.

I couldn’t even scream. The moment just ripped straight through. No clever words. No escape. Just one shout escaped before everything turned black.

“Ackkkk! You bitches!”

CRASH.

The world shut off.

And then, as if summoned by cosmic spite, the words I hated most in the universe appeared right in front of my face.

SYSTEM FAILURE! SYSTEM FAILURE! SYSTEM FAILURE!

You ever have one of those moments where you realize the universe is laughing at you? Yeah. That. Right back at square one. Because why not? The game has got to laugh too.