The gem dissolved into light, splitting into three streams that shot into their chests. Their HUDs blinked.

  Party Bonus: Armor Unlocked.

  Light flared. When it faded, all three were wearing new gear.

  Leo blinked down at himself. He was buried in layers of quilted padding, every joint stiff, every step creaking. He tried to lift his notebook. It fell out of his hands with a thud.

  “…Too… heavy…” he wheezed.

  Bert burst out laughing. “You look like a pillow fort with legs!”

  ***

  Bert looked down at his own reward. Leather armor stretched across his chest, seams straining against bulging muscle. He flexed — and the straps snapped instantly.

  “…Okay,” he muttered. “Maybe a little tight.”

  Harlada smirked. “Maybe a lot tight.”

  ***

  Harlada turned to inspect herself — and froze.

  Her new mage’s robe shimmered prettily in the torchlight. Pastel pink. Embroidered with little stars and sparkles. And across the chest, stitched in glowing runes, was the unmistakable logo of a smiling cartoon cat.

  She stared at it in horror. “No.”

  Bert collapsed to the floor, roaring with laughter. “HELLO KITTY! You’re a magical princess!”

  Even Leo, weighed down like a medieval mattress, let out a strangled laugh.

  The crystal pulsed with malicious glee:

  Achievement Unlocked: Fashion Disaster. Reward: Eternal Humiliation.

  Harlada clenched her fists, sparks dancing furiously. “I am going to kill this dungeon.”

  The laughter eventually died down, though Bert was still wheezing and wiping tears from his eyes. Leo waddled stiffly in his padded armor, joints squeaking.

  “This is statistically unwearable,” he muttered. “I can’t even bend.”

  “Fine,” Bert grunted, still tugging at his leather straps. “We switch.”

  They did — Leo sliding gratefully into the supple leather, moving like he’d been reborn. He twirled in a perfect circle, notebook tucked neatly under one arm. “Ah. Freedom. Mobility. Statistical bliss.”

  Bert clanked inside the heavy armor, muscles bulging against steel plates. He flexed proudly, the pauldrons groaning in protest. “Now this is power.”

  The crystal pulsed smugly:

  System Alert: Class Restriction Violation. Rogues cannot equip heavy armor.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  Bert raised both gauntleted fists and gave the HUD two very clear gestures. “Watch me.”

  The crystal pulsed again, sulky this time:

  Fine. But you’ll regret it.

  ***

  Meanwhile, Harlada stood rigid, her bright-pink robe practically glowing in the torchlight. Bert snorted every time he looked at her.

  She clenched her fists. “This ends now.”

  Together, Harlada and Bert dragged the robe across the bloody remains of Warrior Leo. The fabric soaked up the gore greedily, stars and sparkles vanishing under deep crimson stains. The smiling cartoon cat on her chest now looked… unnervingly vicious.

  Harlada scowled, then yanked at the embroidery with both hands. The neat little O in HELLO tore free, threads dangling.

  Now the glowing runes across her chest read only:

  HELL KITTY.

  Bert doubled over laughing. “That’s even better!”

  Leo adjusted his supple new armor, nodding in admiration. “Statistically… terrifying.”

  Harlada smirked, sparks dancing from her fingertips. “Much improved.”

  The crystal pulsed, sulky this time:

  Fashion Modifier Applied: Bloodstained Robe of Hell Kitty. Bonus: +2 Intimidation.

  The dungeon rumbled as if groaning in despair.

  ***

  The chamber quieted after the laughter faded. Their new gear sat heavy on their shoulders — leather creaked, armor clanked, and Harlada’s bloodstained robe glowed faintly in the torchlight.

  From the far wall, the strange-marked door pulsed ominously, its jagged sigil writhing like it was alive.

  Bert planted his massive sword in the stone with a clang. For once, he didn’t grin.

  “Alright, listen up.” He looked between them, serious for the first time in hours. “We’ve messed around a lot. We’ve died a lot. We even made friends with snails. But this—” he jabbed a thumb toward the writhing symbol—“this is the boss door. If we screw this up, we don’t get silver. And if we don’t get silver…”

  “Bronze forever,” Harlada muttered.

  “Exactly,” Bert said. “So here’s the plan. We do what Leo says. We follow the numbers. No charging, no screaming, no smashing the wrong thing just because it looks funny.”

  Leo blinked, startled by the endorsement. “Wait. You’ll actually… listen to me?”

  Bert nodded firmly. “Yeah. You’re the brain. I’m the brawn. Harlada’s the sparks. We stick together, we make it through. And—” he hefted the sword again—“we finally earn silver.”

  For a long moment, silence hung heavy. Then Harlada gave a sharp nod. “Fine. One chance. We listen.”

  Leo adjusted his glasses, determination shining through the cracks. “Statistically… our odds have never been higher.”

  The crystal pulsed, sounding almost amused:

  Party Consensus Detected. Boss Door Ready. Good luck, maggots.

  The three froze.

  “…Did it just call us maggots?” Harlada asked.

  Leo frowned. “Correct. Previously we were consistently referred to as ‘idiots.’”

  Bert scratched his chin. “So… is maggot better or worse than idiot?”

  The HUD flickered, text scrolling smugly:

  Reputation Increased. Idiot → Maggot. Congratulations.

  They groaned in unison.

  “Great,” Harlada muttered. “We’ve been promoted to larva.”

  Leo scribbled it down anyway. “Statistically, improvement is still improvement.”

  Bert grinned faintly. “Next stop: worms. Then maybe butterflies.”

  The sigil on the boss door flared brighter, shadows writhing across the stone.

  Together, they stepped toward it.