I had stretched my stamina thin, just enough to keep luring such dangerous monsters. bined with their o-kill puhis situation had “disaster” written all over it. As I caught my breath, Lucas crept closer to the edge of the hole, cautiously poking the trapped Goolems with his staff.

  It was strangely adorable, and I couldn’t help but grin. Wait, what am I thinking? My smile must have caught his attention, because he sat beside me, looking at me with a mix of curiosity and nervousness, like he wao ask something.

  “Charlie, I was w… how do we kill them?” he said, gng back at the hole with a furrowed brow. I k! I still know him well after all these years. “Should I use spark? It’d take forever, and holy, I’m not sure I cast it that many times.” He frowned, casting a wary look at the Goolems. “It’s good they’re stuck, but why won’t they climb out? Is their AI broken?”

  Before I could stop myself, I burst into ughter. “No, nothing like that.” I stood up, dusting off my pathetic potato-sack dress as I tried to calm down. “They… haha… they… they…” I couldn’t hold it in as memories of one of my earliest exploits flooded back. Lucas looked at me, puzzled and unfortable, while I cmped a hand over my mouth. What’s gotten into me? Stop, John, it’s not even that funny! Stupid hormones.

  After settling down, I expined, “They disabled climbing after the Goolems ambushed the poor test guys a few too many times. The Goolems used to swarm up cliffs and drop on pyers en masse.” I peeked into the hole, listening to the Goolems grumbling and scraping as they made futile attempts to climb. “The devs got zy and just disabled climbing altogether—I kept my mouth shut and cashed in on the bug-finding bonus.” Uh, that hadn’t happened yet. I nervously added, “I mean, po cash in. Now it’s our turn to exploit their ht.”

  “Wait,” Lucas scrambled towards me, and whispered into my ear, his breath sending a straingle down my spine, “I thought the AI developed the game? They’re marketing it as the first fully AI-designed game.”

  Lucas, it’s still me. I may be in a dress, but I’m still John. Slightly uled, I nudged him back gently. “First, the Goolems ’t climb, so we’re safe for now. And sed, no, not initially—the AI will tinue developing the game. And don’t think we’re the only oaking advantage of loopholes. I’d bet thousands of pyers are out there exploiting as we speak.”

  “The Goolem hole exploit?”

  “No, silly Lucas. These guys are level 9; who’d guess level-ones like us could ha?” I rolled my eyes with a smirk. “The world’s massive—much rger thah. With millions of monsters, mostly AI geed, there are bound to be millions of exploits waiting to be discovered.”

  [Attention! The group of user Lisa had sin the world Boss Frexie for the first time. Praise their name!]She was fast. Whatever. I ched my almost-broken staff, venting my frustration by whag a Goolem squarely on the head. “Took them lohan I expected, that silly team,” I muttered, not hiding my jealousy as I smashed the Goolem again.

  [Critical hit! Target lost 1HP.]Lucas closed his eyes, sighing. “That could have been us. Just imagine: ‘Praise the group of Lucas!’”

  While he grinned, I shot back, “For your info, it would say Princess’s group.”

  “Maybe we should’ve asked to join them,” he mused. “I mean, you’re a Priest—everyone needs one.”

  “Not happening. She was with her guild; they don’t just let randoms tag along. Get that idea out of your head! Now let’s get back to grinding. Only a couple hundred hits to go!” He nodded, joining in the Goolem-smashing with his own stick.

  After a few minutes of him actally brushing against me, I decided it was time to create some distance. But what, it’s not like he’s a warrior and I put him through exercises. Oh, mage… perfect. He should practice his spells anyway. I gave him a pointed look. “Why don’t you start using spark? You o increase your proficy, aiween casts will be good practice.” He looked like he waue until he caught my gre, theantly started trag runes in the air, sending sparks toward the Goolems.

  The fmes fizzled around them, barely making a dent. “They’re immuo fire! I’m only doing 1 damage!” he pined, muttering, “If we’d goer gray wolves, we’d be level two by now…”

  “This is faster. Just wait until we take one down—then we talk. If you’re still pining, I’ll drag you to the elf vilge,” I smirked, fog baashing their stone heads.

  My staff’s durability was dropping faster than I’d expected, but it should hold up for awo hours. Even if it broke, I could use any old stick—this thing was barely better than a branyway. The description even said so.

  [Goolem has beeed. +150XP][gratutions! You are now level 2! XP to level: 100/200][You found a strange book x2. Goolem pool: 98/100][You found shoes.]“That’s what I’m talking about!” I shouted with joy, look at the loot triumphantly. I turo fist bump Lucas, but he surprised me by pullio a hug. So I shrugged, returning the embrace for a moment before pulling back to examine our hard-won spoils. Really, how long people swing sticks and not get sick of it?

  “Charlie, it’s not that I doubted you—”

  “What? You didn’t doubt me?” I gave him a deadly gre and shoved the loot pile his way. “Identify. Now.”

  “Alright, alright! Maybe I was a little skeptical.” He chuckled nervously, still looking at the loot in awe. “But you actually delivered. How did we get 150 XP from this? That’s ihe gray wolves barely give 1 or 2 XP each.”

  “These Goolems are rare mini-bosses that roam in groups of three or more. They give twenty times the XP ur monsters,” I expined with a smug grin. “Now stop talking and identify the loot already.”

  Grumbling, Lucas began casting his identification spell. Mages had the unique ability to identify items, making them perfect partners for aures. My personal walking identifier groaned as he focused on the spell. I watched, trying to caty hint of the runes he was drawing, but the process was hidden from my view. Too bad—I could’ve teased him for any mistakes. Then again, he’d probably do the same to me.

  “e on, Lucas, focus!” I urged impatiently, uo stop my gaze from lingering on a shiny pair of boots in the pile. What’s gotten into me?

  “Charlie!” he hissed, trying to trate. “Quiet—I’m fog!” He gritted his teeth, casting the spell again after a failed attempt. Finally, after what felt like the tenth try, he handed me a dusty book. “Here, I think this one’s for you.”

  [You found a book of Smite][Smite]Type: 2-unon | Lv. Novice 1 | Mana: 20% INTEffect: Damages target for 15% INT.* as you increase the proficy, the mana used will decrease. Limit: minimum 10%I could learn the spell right away, but I hesitated, biting my lip. I only had space for five spells until I hit level ten, so each choice had to t. Better to hold off for something with a rare rating her.

  The sed book ell fes, so it seemed the system had rewarded us based on our csses. Probably a bonus for sg the first Goolem kill. Lucas finally identified the shoes, tossing them over with a smug grin.

  “Thanks!” I beamed, slipping them on immediately. My celebration at the end of my barefoot journey was short-lived; I took oriumphant step forward and promptly fated. My nose smacked into the ground, and I got a mouthful of gritty soil. What the—?! I looked up to find Lucas ughing so hard he was literally rolling on the ground, practically the definition of ROFL. Sometimes he was so immature.

  Infuriated, I gred down at my new footwear, g my jaw. Then I shouted into the empty mountains, “Why do these stupid shoes have heels? How am I supposed to walk in them?” Lucas was still ughing, so I threw a rock at him, dealing zero damage. “I could at least walk when I was barefoot! Aren’t these sexists? Look at your robe—totally modest. Meanwhile, mine barely covers anything. And now heels? Seriously?”

  After venting my frustration, I attempted to walk again, but it was ky at best. Fighting in them? Fet it. Hopefully, I’d get used to it with some practice. Apparently, the item was “universal,” meaning it ged appearance based on my gender and role—Priest. How thoughtful of the programmers. Clearly, they’d wanted a good ugh. I was among them, especially when I saw Katherihat the aesthetic was imposed on me like an unwanted joke made me furious.

  Lucas’s ughter, whily seemed to get louder, was like nails on a chalkboard. “You’ve been a girl for, what, five hours, and you’re already a feminist!”

  I shot him a death gre, sighing as I stomped awkwardly around the hole, venting my frustration orapped Goolems. The poor creatures gred up at me, swinging their tiny fists in rage, but it ointless. No monster had ever escaped one of my exploits.

  [Goolem has beeed x2. +150XP][gratutions! You are now level 3! XP to level: 200/450][Spell Group Heal unlocked.][You found a strange book. Goolem pool: 97/100] [You found a crate of bottles.]

  After a relentless onsught, the Goolems finally succumbed to their injuries. One by ohey crumbled, leaving behind a modest loot pile. The book turned out to be aric spell fes, which thrilled Lucas. But eveer was the leveling speed—truly miraculous. Still, after nearly dying ughing at the heel i, he couldn’t help but eye the mysterious crate with a touch of fear.

  Please let it be mana elixirs, he thought, hoping for something practical. But when he identified it, his luck pyed a cruel trick—it was booze.

  [You identified an item: Crate of Wines]He chuckled, half-amused, half-resigned. Charlie-John had always been ahusiastic drinker. At first, he’d found it funny, but John’s love for alcohol had persisted well beyond high school. Not that Lucas hadn’t enjoyed a good drink himself, but he was a lightweight pared to his friend’s seemingly bottomless tolerance for whiskey and vodka.

  Joh tless hours at that old Irish bar, either with Lucas or their high schouys like Ian and the rest. He always had an excuse for his drinking, usually mumbling something about “social ay.”

  Nonsense. Lucas shook his head. He was just afraid, that’s all. Talking to people isn’t that hard. It’s not like anyone was asking him to do something dangerous. You just talk, that’s all. Only an excuse to drink, after all.

  With a sigh, he passed the crate over to Charlie, trying not to let memories of “drunk John” cloud his image of her.

  “Charlie… I think you’ll love for sure.”