It was a damn shame I had to burn my gravekey just to drop off some crap. Having such a limited inventory made some decisions easier than others, like if something wasn’t immediately useful, I’d vendor it.

  I grabbed a hearthrune from my inventory and dropped it.

  [Exiting your Lair. Please wait…]

  [Welcome to Safe Harbor.]

  Distracted by how easy some players had it for inventory management, I almost forgot that I’d wanted to stock up on hearthrunes while I had the funds. Only a dozen steps from the tavern, I spun around to go back.

  “Gah!” I’d almost run into the goddamn grandfather clock.

  I glared at it. The damn thing was following me. An orc stopped to stare at me as I jabbed a finger at the clock and said, “Listen, asshole, back off.”

  The orc took a step back and muttered, “Uh…”

  “Not you. The other asshole.” I nodded at the broken clock. I had half a mind to punch it, so I did.

  The System stopped me mid-punch.

  [PvP is currently disabled.]

  At least that confirmed it was an actual player and not some creepy-ass NPC.

  “Frank this.” I’d get more hearthrunes next time.

  There wasn’t anything a player could do to me, so I left.

  Alright asshole, Let’s see you follow me through this. I smirked, strutting off toward the waygate.

  Thank God there wasn’t a line because I wasn’t in a waiting mood. I stepped up to the discs, selected my destination, and dematerialized.

  [You’ve spent: 50 gold. Total gold: 4,640.]

  I strolled through the archway of the exit waygate and found the portal to the Instance just as I’d left it. I could see the pyramid-shaped structure behind a dense jungle.

  “Better not be any bears in there,” I said before stepping in.

  [Exiting the Overworld. Please wait…]

  [Welcome to the Temple of the Forsaken Altar, level 3 Instance.]

  The portal spat me out into a wall of green and brown. Thick vines and broad-leaved plants surrounded me on all sides. The air was heavy with damp earth and musty, rotting leaves.

  A constant chorus of trilling insects buzzed through the canopy, punctuated by the croaking of frogs. High above, something screeched. Bird or monkey. I couldn’t tell. Didn’t really care as long as it kept to itself.

  Sunlight filtered down through the leaves well enough. It was hot as balls and muggy as hell, but I wasn’t sweating. Not sure I still could with my iron skin. Must be an undocumented feature. Not that I was complaining.

  I knew which way to go because glimpses of the temple poked through gaps in the canopy. Staring out at the dense jungle, I couldn’t see an easy path forward. I’d have to forge my own, but that was something I was used to. Hopefully, I’d run into some snacks before the first boss found me.

  [New objectives: Defeat the Avatar of Air. Defeat the Avatar of Earth. Defeat the Avatar of Water. Find the missing Avatar. Find the four missing explorers.]

  I read the objectives and said, “Jesus, they’ve got me facing gods now?”

  Dickhead chimed in. “Not at level three. They’re probably a local deity, still very mortal, though.”

  “Wait, does that mean some NPCs are immortal?”

  That would suck.

  “At higher levels? Sure. But You Know Who usually includes a way to circumvent it.”

  I felt a mosquito bounce off my neck pretty hard. Instinctively, I checked with my hand. Of course it came back clean—I had iron skin. More of the bastards dive-bombed me from behind before I realized they weren’t insects. They were darts, and I was in the middle of an ambush.

  Franking finally.

  I spun around to see a head pop out of a bush with a long blowgun. He wore a headband of woven fronds and a necklace strung with jagged teeth. His whole body was smeared with mud. This was some ancient urban warfare shit. Too bad for them—their darts wouldn’t do squat against me.

  A few more heads popped up, blew me, then dove back into the bushes. The bushes seemed to scatter when I stepped toward them.

  “The poison, it’s not working!” a voice hissed.

  The guy with the biggest pair on him charged me first. He came at me with a raised machete. I stopped to let him hit. He cut through my jacket, and I felt the blade drag against my skin. It tickled.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The guy looked at his dull, pitted blade, then back at me, horrified.

  I rested a heavy hand on his trembling shoulder and said, “You tried, and that’s what matters.”

  Then I pulled him into a full-powered gut punch. I’m not sure if it was a rib, muscle, or an organ that popped when I hit him, but he dropped to his knees, spitting up blood.

  I winced at his pain.

  “That’s gotta hurt,” I said, flexing my new iron hand. It did way more damage than my old punches but still wasn’t enough to one-shot him. I’d have to work on that. I earned two notifications with my next punch.

  [You’ve earned: 300 XP.]

  [You’ve gained: 1 FrankUp coin.]

  [Your Punching skill has increased to level 3.]

  I loved seeing those skill-ups.

  “Attack!” a voice yelled.

  Three more machete-wielding, loincloth-wearing maniacs charged me from all sides. They franked-up my jacket and shirt pretty good as they blunted their weapons on my chest, arms, and back.

  One stood apart from the others. He wasn’t in fronds and loincloths like the rest. His robes were sleeveless, cut at the knees, and dyed in swampy greens and browns. A rope belt dangled with bone charms, and a deep V cut down his chest where ritual paint traced jagged lines. He looked like some sort of priest. He chanted something as a ball of light formed between his hands.

  The warriors leapt back as the priest finished his chant and summoned the goddamn sun in his hands. A tight beam of brilliant energy raked across my torso, leaving behind molten iron in its wake.

  That attack chunked my Vitality, reminding me that magic users could still kick my ass.

  “Holy hell.” I stared down at my chest. I didn’t dare touch the angry red mark but hoped to hell it’d buff out.

  It was time to stop dicking around with the warriors and focus on the one in the dress. I charged him. Well… I charged him as fast as 65% movement speed would allow.

  And then that casting son of a bitch had the nerve to run away.

  I growled.

  They usually did that only when they were low on health. Dammit, now I was going to have to chase his ass through the jungle until he got tired.

  I glanced back over my shoulder. If I weren’t careful, I’d get lost. Not that I couldn’t find their huge-ass temple again. I just didn’t want to have to stumble around looking for a dead guy I’d dropped so I could eat him. Nope, better not take that chance.

  I jogged back to my first kill, hoisted him up over my shoulder, and slipped him into my inventory. The priest was nowhere to be found, so I took the opportunity to drop as many of the annoying warriors as I could.

  I grabbed the first one by the wrist and double-tapped him in the face with two quick jabs.

  [You’ve earned: 300 XP.]

  I lifted him and stuck him in my inventory, too.

  I grabbed the next warrior by the neck and chokeslammed him into the last warrior, knocking him over. I continued smashing them into each other until I got two more notifications.

  [You’ve earned: 300 XP.]

  [You’ve earned: 300 XP.]

  I heard the bushes chanting again but couldn’t tell from where.

  “Dammit,” I said as I hurried to slip their bodies into my inventory.

  Another searing beam scorched across my back. I wheeled around and saw where he’d been. A jostling fern gave him away.

  My boots pounded the soil, leaves, and any gnarled roots that got in my way as I took off after him. Now that I didn’t have to worry about misplacing a meal, I was free to chase him to the ends of the Instance.

  But he didn’t run farther into the jungle. This wasn’t an NPC fear response like when they’re low on health; this smartass was kiting me toward the temple.

  He outpaced me easily and kept shouting, “Ready the effigy!”

  The jungle trees and undergrowth thinned until they just stopped. Ahead, I saw a clearing with more of his tribe—a mix of warriors and priests. There was a flat courtyard of hard-packed dirt ringed by crude stone markers.

  The air carried the smell of smoke and roasting meat. A skewered boar, blackened and dripping fat, spun lazily over a fire pit. A scattering of stumps and flat stones served as seats around the fire. Six of them were occupied. Clay bowls and half-gnawed bones were stacked near the pit.

  All six warriors, no longer distracted by their meal, stood as the priest dashed past the tree line. Three priests, scattered around the courtyard, also glanced up.

  Every head turned as the ragged priest stumbled into the clearing.

  "The Devil comes!” he shouted, panting.

  The warriors rushed to arm themselves while the priests gathered around a statue that reminded me of China’s terracotta warriors.

  I stepped out of the shadows and into the open courtyard. I could handle the warriors, no problem. It was the priests who were going to be a pain in my ass.

  My errant priest joined the others around the statue. All but one dropped to their knees and started chanting.

  I sighed, hoping my ass wasn’t about to get hyper-beamed from heaven. I’d just have to get to them first.

  Their voices droned on as I ran toward them. The warriors tried to intercept me, but how the frank were they supposed to stop a half-ton, undead, metal asshole?

  I barreled through the warriors, knocking them aside like bowling pins. I skidded to a stop only because the statue turned to face me.

  “What the…”

  It stepped off its stout pedestal as one priest stepped up, took its place, and started floating. He kept chanting with the others, but the stone effigy seemed to mimic his movements.

  The priest started running in mid-air. Milliseconds later, the statue took off in my direction. I gave a half-smile and ran to meet it. Like two slow-moving, heavy-laden trains on the same track, we smashed into each other—well over a ton of rock and metal.

  But just before we hit, I watched the priest tuck a shoulder, so I tucked mine lower. The statue weighed more, but I was denser. Iron won the first clash as a fissure ripped through the statue’s chest with a loud crack.

  I followed up with a hook to the ribs. The floating priest stopped chanting as he lost his breath. I glanced over to see what was going on, and that earned me a right cross from the damn statue.

  [Your Intellect has dropped to level 11.]

  I growled in anger.

  It wasn’t about the cheap shot; that’s just how fights went. I was more upset about letting myself get distracted. I tucked my shoulder again and ran it into its sternum.

  “Jesus, you’re franking heavy,” I grunted as I strained to lift it.

  I redoubled my efforts when it didn’t budge the first time. My body stood strong against the mounting strain. While I couldn’t toss this damn thing around, I didn’t hurt myself trying, either. I had wanted to see what would happen if I dropped it on a warrior.

  A double-fisted blow came down hard against my exposed back. It didn’t hurt, but I felt my Vitality slip by a hair. Without the increased defenses of Metal Coat, this thing would have rocked my undead ass.

  How the hell are other players dealing with this shit?

  I tossed the thought from my mind and refocused on the fight at hand. Loosening my grip on its core, I slipped around to its back, jammed my heel into the back of its knee, and dropped it.

  I sidestepped its fall and pounced on its chest the moment it hit the ground. Mounted and ready, I slugged the crap out of its face. I didn’t stop until I got a notification.

  [You’ve earned: 300 XP.]

  I blinked. The statue still struggled under me.

  I whipped my head around, looking for what had changed. That’s when I saw two warriors dragging the priest’s dead body off the pedestal. Another priest got to his feet and stepped onto the pedestal to take his place.

  I grinned. Chasing down runners was for schmucks. This was easier—and way more fun.