Discount Dan

There were furries everywhere.

In a past life—one before the madness of the Backrooms—this would’ve been my worst nightmare. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d actually had a nightmare just like this once or twice in the before-fore times. Instead of being horrified, however… I was elated. One word I never would’ve associated with furries. Not in a million years. Yet here I was, over the moon, as countless Howlers perused my store.

Every aisle was crowded with fur covered bodies and there was a line, two dozen long, just for the laundry services.

More were loitering at the makeshift dining area outside the concession stand—furry head masks sitting on the tables and floors as they binged on nachos, pizza, and hotdogs. More had candy and soda and several appeared to be drunk, though Camo Joe was keeping a close eye on anyone who got too shitfaced. This was a store after all, not a nightclub. There were even a handful who had asked about renting cots in the storage area, though why they would want to stay here instead of the Hold was beyond me.

Honestly, as long as they paid, I didn’t care what the reason was.

According to my personal tally, there were a hundred and twenty-three Howlers currently inside the store. Over a third of the entire Hold’s population. I’d left one doorway anchor outside of Funtime Franks and I planted another inside of Ajax’s tavern, the Muzzle and Mast. The line for my grand reopening had wrapped around the repurposed pirate ship twice over. Aside from the Raiders, many of the Howlers hadn’t left the safety of Hold in years and most of the kids had never put so much as a single toe outside its fortified walls.

Several of those kids were currently in the candy aisle, while a few more were playing with Princess Ponypuff. The kids seemed to be obsessed with the golem cobbled together from off-brand toys like an unholy Voltron-robot. Even more surprising, Ponypuff didn’t seem to mind. Her general disdain for humanity at large seemed to have an age cap, and anyone who fell below eleven or so avoided her prickly tongue and banshee wails.

Right hand to God, I even saw her give out lollipops… for free. She never haggled and she never gave out anything for free.

Croc was also having a grand ol’ time with the children of the Hold, all of whom absolutely adored the mimic. And unlike most of the other Delvers who still gave Croc a rather wide berth, the children were all over the dog. Scratching behind the mimic’s rubbery ears, offering an endless stream of Froyo, or riding the dog like a large pony. I’d never seen Croc so happy. Not even after taking him down the big slide at the Jungle Gym Jamboree. The look of its face was pure joy.

It was the look of an outcast who’d finally found all the friends they could ever want.

For my part, I constantly roamed the store, introducing myself and glad-handing my new customers or helping cover the front counter when things got too backed up. It was exhausting given the sheer volume of new shoppers we had, but compared to murdering bloodthirsty Dwellers for fifteen hours straight, it was a cakewalk. Especially since I could crack open a cold one or five while I worked. In most places, drinking on the job was frowned upon, but I owned this shop, so I could do whatever the fuck I wanted.

Just one of the many perks of being self-employed.

Even though drinking on the job was one helluva great benefit, the real prize was all of the metaphorical money the Howlers were spending. I’d offered a 20% Grand Opening Discount for all first-time shoppers, and they were taking advantage of all the bargains to be had. Hell, a good chunk of ’em acted as though they’d never be able to shop here again. The toilet paper was already gone as was most of the meat and dairy from the refrigeration units. My stock of Healing, Mana, and Stamina elixirs had run dry within the first twenty minutes.

Wraith himself had been first in line for those.

We’d already sold every single Artifact we had on hand, though we’d acquired a ton more in return. It was the same thing with Relics. My inventory was flying off the shelves as though the stock had wings, but we were replacing our supplies even faster. Even though many of these Delvers were lower level, none of ’em were newbs. They’d been around for years—even decades in some cases—and they’d all acquired a healthy stockpile of loot which they were only too happy to trade.

I sold beer, whiskey, food, potions, common household appliances and a thousand other odds and ends, and reaped a windfall of powerful items in return. Honestly, it was a shock to my system. I never would’ve trade away even shit-tier Relics or Artifacts for something as common as a loaf of bread or a frozen pizza, but the Howlers weren’t like me. Most had no desire to go deeper. They also weren’t fighting a war against one of the most powerful entities in existence.

All they wanted was to be comfortable.

For someone who never ventured outside the walls of the Hold, a nice coffee pot, a panini press, or a box of their favorite cereal was way more valuable than some random-ass Relic, which had sat unused in their personal storage for years.

Although building a relationship with the Howlers had been a nightmare of epic proportions, I was finally seeing the fruits of my labors. And by God was it a glorious sight to behold. I wasn’t entirely sure how much our total for the day would be, but I fully expected to have enough Relics, Tokens, Shards, and Artifacts to backstroke though, Scrooge-Mcduck-style.

When I wasn’t assisting customers on the floor, I spent most of my time behind the register helping Ponypuff. Other than a few eccentricities, Ponypuff was generally a great employee, but if there was one area she struggled in, it was customer service. As in, she hated customers and loathed serving others. She also didn’t negotiate. Ever. Under any circumstances. Anyone who attempted to haggle or bargain was met by the ululating wail of a demonic goat, which lasted until the person either caved or slunk away with their tail tucked between the legs.

Normally, I was fine with that.

Generally, no one wanted to hold up the line while arguing with a nightmarish horror show, crafted from discarded children’s toys. Having a bunch of angry and impatient people silently judge you at the cash register was one of the most awkward and uncomfortable experiences on the planet, and most people would do anything to avoid a situation like that. Even if it meant paying a little more for something.

Most of the time that worked out great for my bottom line. But with so many customers running around, I just couldn’t afford to have Ponypuff scream at every single customer for five minutes apiece. Not without eating through potential revenue. I needed to keep the line moving. So instead, she handled the more straightforward trades—anything that involved set pricing—while I took care of the more delicate and nuanced cases. The ones that required a softer touch and a bit of finesse.

That also gave me a front row seat to pick through the best Relics as they came across the counter.

We received scores of Common-grade Relics like Basic Camo Kits or Sucker Punch, Force Multiplier and Moving Walkway. Things I’d seen a dozen times over or more. None of them did me any good, but they weren’t completely useless and would be great resell items for newer Delvers just starting out. There were also several Common and Uncommon-Grade Relics, which I hadn’t come across until now that were surprisingly awesome.

Chick-nado resembled a colorfully painted easter egg. It conjured a small whirlwind filled with angry chickens, who dealt both piercing and slashing damage and had a five percent chance of afflicting its victim with Avian Syphilis. I had no desire to learn what Avian Syphilis was, but I was sure it was the stuff of nightmares. An Uncommon Relic, appropriately named Reality Skew, warped the laws of reality in a thirty-foot radius, causing things like gravity, motion, and even time to work unpredictability for the duration of the spell. It was crazy powerful, but too unpredictable to be effective in the field.

Minor Mend magically repaired inanimate, non-Artifact objects while Beard Bond allowed the user to instantly grow a thick and luxurious beard, which could be controlled like an extra limb. Great for grappling opponents or holding an extra can of beer during a drunken rager. Squirrel Agility was an Uncommon that significantly boosted Athleticism and granted the unparalleled dexterity and nimbleness of a squirrel. Unfortunately, it also came with a side of extreme ADHD and a compulsive need to hoard small objects. Nuts, in particular.

I was pretty sure that given enough time, I could forge some of those with other Relics to help eliminate the egregious side effects.

There was also a flood of lesser support Relics that were invaluable for navigating through the ever-shifting landscape of the Backrooms. Both The Delver’s Wiki and Pawnshop Appraisal served a similar function as my Researcher’s Codex—though neither were near as good. Lesser Trap Detection resembled one of those old school metal detectors and allowed the user to locate physical traps. Homing Pigeon was the Relic version of the Twinning String, and allowed whoever used it to tag a single location, then find their way back to that spot no matter the distance.

There were also a couple of decent Rare-grade Relics that offered some significant combat firepower. AC Spike unleashed a javelin of ice as thick as my wrist and Tesla Field created a passive aura that dealt shock damage to anyone, friend or foe, who got within ten feet while the spell was active. Sharp Dressed Man passively amplified the effects of all Artifacts by 10% while equipped, and Conman’s Charisma fortified Grit and boosted the effectiveness of illusions and mind-based spells for a short time.

None were better than my current line-up up, but I stashed all of those away for later.

Of course, all of the awesome Relics were counterbalanced by the tsunami of worthless shit-tier garbage that wasn’t fit for anything but the metaphorical burn pit. Night Hearing, Summon Sock, Involuntary Jazz Hands. Irredeemable, one and all.

Those I also set aside. Fuel to level my other abilities.

If I wanted to Forge Emblems—which was damn-near at the top of my priority list—I was going to need fully-level Relics, which meant I needed a lot of worthless bullshit to sacrifice. It cost five Relics to move up even a single level, but once a Relic hit the first threshold at level five, the number of necessary sacrifices doubled. Ten Relics to move from level 5 to level 6, and ten more for each subsequent level. And once a Relic hit level ten, that number doubled again.

In total, it cost a jaw-dropping one hundred and seventy sacrifices to move a single Relic from level 1 to level 15. Even though I’d advanced almost all of my current core Relics past the first threshold, I’d barely even scratched the surface.

There were two other extremely interesting Rare-grade Relics and one Uncommon Relic that immediately caught my attention.

The first was just… Badass. I couldn’t really think of a great use for it yet, not with my current build, but it was too cool to let go of.

Voodoo Doppelbanger looked like one of those weird cornhusk dolls from a horror movie about dark magic down in the Bayou. With it, the caster could summon a perfect physical replica of themselves. The clone absorbed seventy-five percent of the damage dealt to the caster for the twenty-second duration of the spell. Then it turned into a fleshy suicide bomb. The inert clone would charge the nearest enemy, wrap ’em up in a big ol’ bear hug, then exploded for the entirety of the absorbed damage.

It was as twisted as a pretzel, and I loved it for that exact reason. Needless to say, I tucked it away for later because I couldn’t bear to see it sold off to some other shlub.

The Uncommon-grade Relic, Erratic Levitation, took the form of one of those cheap circular drones you could buy at any toy store. The kind that zipped through the air at Mach-ten speed, then bounced off the walls like a hyper-active toddler before invariably flying directly into the TV or the ceiling fan. The spell effect was almost exactly the same. Essentially, it would allow me to levitate into the air—problem was, I wouldn’t be able to control how high I went, what direction I went in, or how long I stayed airborne.

In reality, it would’ve been a completely useless Relic, but it had extremely strong synergy with Mental Micromanagement. When I ran a Codex Analytics Report, I found the most likely outcome was a Rare-grade Relic called Mystic Suspension. It acted as a stable form of the base Levitation spell. The biggest issue was it would only work on me, meaning I’d no longer be able to telekinetically control my tools.

The juice wasn’t worth the squeeze, but I saw potential.

The final Rare-grade Relic, Quicksand Terraform, was a powerful AoE ability that instantly transformed a ten-by-ten patch of floor or ground into a pit of bog-like quicksand. It was great on its own, but that’s not why I liked it so much. Nope. Just like with Erratic Levitation, I grabbed it because it synergized with Pressure Washer, my best ranged spell.

After a little tinkering, I discovered I could forge Pressure Washer, Quicksand Terraform, Burn Baby Burn, and a practically useless Common-Grade Relic called Arsonist Accelerant into something new and truly terrifying.

Hydro Fracking Blast

Fabled Relic – Level 2

Range: Single Target

Cost: 12 Mana/Sec

Sometimes, the solution isn't subtlety, but a high-velocity water jet of pure destruction. Even better if that water also happens to be on fire. And that’s where Hydro Fracking Blast comes in, brought to you by the good folks at the Variant Research Division!

That’s right, friends. Unleash a beam of water, skinny as a noodle but mighty enough to punch through a fucking mountain. Oh, and thanks to a little gasoline and some completely safe and totally natural dissolved gaseous methane, this water’s also on fire. It’s the best of all worlds! Water and flame in a perfect ying-yang of death and destruction. What more could you possibly ask for?

Moving at 100,000 PSI, Hydro Fracking doesn't just erode, it annihilates. The target receives one stack of Scorching Erosion, suffering 25 points of Piercing Damage and an additional 20 points of Fire Damage per second as the fiery water eats into anything in its path.

Each additional second under the stream adds more fuel to the fire. In this case, literally.

For every three consecutive seconds spent in the water stream, an additional stack of Scorching Erosion is added, dealing an additional 25 points of Piercing Damage. When an enemy receives five stacks of Scorching Erosion, all damage dealt triples for each subsequent stack thereafter.

As the VRD is wont to say, go Frack yourself!

Right hand to the Good Lord, it was a thing of true beauty.

Aside from the distressing political commentary on the nature of sustainable fracking, this was basically the best parts of both Pressure Washer and Burn Baby Burn, combined into one magnificent spell. It kept all the piercing damage from the Pressure Washer, but now I could also simultaneously set things on fire without accidentally setting myself ablaze in the process. Even better, this new Relic was Fabled-grade, but not Fully-Tempered, which meant there was the possibility I could still improve it in the future.

The description was right, it really was the best of both worlds.

I forged all four Relics without a second of hesitation, then sacrificed a few of the trash-tier Relics to bring it up to level 5. Based on past experience, I fully expected to unlock some version of Split Cast, which would allow me to split the attack into two streams, capable of targeting two enemies simultaneously.

I was wrong.

Instead, it added an additional effect I’d never seen before. One even more terrifying than the base spell.

When an enemy receives five stacks of Scorching Erosion, all damage dealt triples for each subsequent stack thereafter and a new Affliction is added, Water Table Contamination. Once afflicted by Water Table Contamination, any liquid within the victim’s body will spontaneously ignite, burning them alive from the inside out.

I felt a little sick as I read over the new addition. Although I had no doubt it would be extremely affective, it was also legitimately horrifying. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how painful it would be to have all the liquid inside your body spontaneously burst into flames.

Did that mean their blood would be on fire?

The fluid inside their eyeballs? Or their brains?

Although I had no desire to kill anyone, if someone backed me into a corner, I’d do what I needed to, and this new Relic would certainly help get the job done. When faced with the threat of existential annihilation, only a fool overlooked a tool as powerful and destructive as this one. I was a lot of things, but a fool wasn’t one of ’em. I wouldn’t feel good about it, but I’d burn my enemies to the ground and dance in their ashes if it meant living to see another day.