I seethed.

Akuma. The leader of the War Mage Rebellion from Faction Wars. The magic-based creature who’d almost ruined everything. He’d killed Stalwart and stolen the Gate of the Feral Gods. He’d disappeared after they’d taken the castle and tasked me with killing Agatha.

I watched Samantha hop up and down as Jasha poured beer into her mouth. I remembered that whole business with her sand-ooze daughter that had supposedly been hiding in the castle. The same castle the war mages had been searching.

Samantha. Her daughter. The Scavenger. Emberus. The murder of his son, Geyrun. The memorial crystal Prepotente now had.

It was all connected somehow, and I had no idea what the fuck any of it meant.

I reread the note, putting the words into my notepad.

I can smuggle friends to the Pineapple Cabaret.

I’d only heard that term one time before. The Pineapple Cabaret. It wasn’t mentioned anywhere in the cookbook that I could recall. The AI, in possession of Growler Gary’s body, had offered the orc princess Formidable “Backstage at the Pineapple Cabaret” as one of the location options for her banishment after she’d tried to trigger the fail-safe.

She’d ended up choosing the Earth’s surface, and apparently the AI had dropped her in the ocean somewhere, implying all the locations on that list had been bad choices.

The war mage wanted me to kill two opposing teams. I didn’t know why, and if I didn’t know why, I wasn’t going to do it. At least not deliberately.

Shouting interrupted me.

“Dong! Dong!” It was Splash Zone.

The three strippers remained on the driveway of the Lady Dominators. The garage door hadn’t opened, but Dong was on his hands and knees with a health bar. Bucket Boy was over him, giving him a potion.

What now? I rushed up.

Dong moved to a sitting position in the driveway, looking pale. I examined him, but there was nothing that indicated what had hurt him.

“I do not feel so well,” Dong said. “Corky!” he called, reaching for the garage door. “Do you hear me!”

“Go away, you freak!” came a shout from inside the garage. That was Genesis.

“Yeah, he says he hates you now,” came Rapture. This was followed by peals of laughter.

“I can’t tell what’s wrong,” Bucket Boy said. “We need Imani. My Triage spell is only level 5, and it says his ailment is hidden.”

“They did it,” Splash Zone said, glaring at the closed garage door. “We can’t fight back because we’re standing in a safe zone, but they ain’t.”

Donut came rushing up. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

“Let’s get him back to our garage,” I said, picking the old stripper up.

“But he’s right inside,” Dong said. Bucket Boy had given him a Fine Healing potion, and it was keeping his health stable, but there was clearly something wrong. “Do you think he hasn’t forgiven me? Do you think that’s it? Do you think he truly hates me?”

“Come on,” I said.

From inside the closed garage door, I heard another, faint shout. This was followed by a distinctive slap and Rapture shouting, “Shut up!”

Quest Complete! I have dreamed thee too long.

Okay, okay, technically you were supposed to “reunite” them. This is close enough. We’ll say it’s complete.

Reward: No reward yet. That was only part one. Be patient.

. . .

New Quest! Half a prayer, half a song.

Part two of two.

Dong Quixote and his best friend in the world, Corcunda, are now aware that the other still lives, despite terrible forces—looking at you, Carl—trying to keep them apart.

But now there’s a serious conundrum. The Corky half of Corcunda is on another team. Before we’re done here on the 10th floor, he’s going to be dead. Or you, Carl and Donut, will be dead. I know that little brain of yours is trying to figure out ways to fix things like we did at the end of the 8th floor, but to quote a guy more mentally ill than even you, you gotta be realistic about these things.

Luckily there’s a solution when it comes to our third-favorite stripper and his lover. (And yes, they’re lovers. I don’t know why we’ve all been collectively pussyfooting around it. It’s almost like you’re afraid people are going to get mad if you say it out loud, and it’s only okay if we imply it. Get over it. Corky and Dong used to fuck like the gayest gays who ever gayed. You wouldn’t believe their chemistry onstage.)

It’s perfectly normal as long as you don’t think too hard about what needs to happen for a man and a half-mantaur in a body-containment suit to actually do the deed. Stuff . . . spills if they’re not careful.

Corcunda, a long time ago, was hit with a spell called Split Personality. Both halves were put into gimp suits in time.

Both halves have the same memories up until the time of the split. You’d think that would result in two very similar personalities, but it’s kinda interesting how quickly people change once they’re split off. It’s a truly interesting study on nature versus nurture.

ANYWAY, Corcunda exists in two halves. Before the split, the mantaur had a pair of dreams. He wanted to be a dancer, and he wanted to be a singer. One half remained at the club and continued to dance. That’s the half that became quite close to Dong.

The other half, called “Porky,” has a strong dislike for Dong. The person, not the appendage. He has moved on to a position where he can fulfill his other dream, to be a singer.

If you find a fleshmancer and combine the two, the newly reformed Corcunda will no longer be a part of Lady Dominators. But which of the two personalities will remain?

That’s an interesting question even I want to know the answer to. It’s not like the entire fate of all biological life in the universe hinges on what happens or anything, so don’t worry about that. That’s just silly. It’s not even the same thing.

Anyway, reunite the two halves using a fleshmancer, and Corcunda will be removed from his obligation to race for the Lady Dominators.

Bonus Difficulty: If Dong Quixote dies before this quest is complete, it fails. That might be a problem considering his current ailment.

Here’s the reward again in case you forgot: If you successfully complete this quest, two stand-ins of your choosing will be summoned to the arena on the 11th floor.

The stand-ins can be anyone within my sphere of influence.

Before my brain could even dissect that, Donut turned to Splash Zone.

“You said the other half of Corcunda, this Porky guy, is in a guild somewhere. Do you remember where?”

“He works a singing guild. There’re a couple different kinds. It’s not the bard-magic one. It’s a performance-based one.”

Donut gasped. “Do you know where it is?”

The otter shrugged. “I know it ain’t ever in the Desperado Club. It’ll be hidden, but it’s not there. Probably not in Club Vanquisher, either, since they have a stick up their asses about everything.”

We gently set the groaning Dong down. Whatever they’d cast on him was already dissipating. Imani said she was on her way to check him out. She could enter our garage through our safe room.

“Do you think he hates me?” Dong asked again as Bucket Boy handed him water.

“What happened?” Donut asked. “How did you two get separated?”

“It started several seasons back,” Splash Zone said. “There was a fight in the Desperado Club between two crawlers, and it spilled into the Penis Parade. One cast a spell that ended up hitting Corcunda while he was onstage. Luckily, the Pony Boy Guild was attached to the club that year and we got them both in gimp suits. For a while, both Corky and Porky worked the club, but when Corky started getting close to Dong, Porky got mad and left. So it was just Corky and Dong for a while. But then one day Corky said he wanted to go find his other half and left, and we hadn’t seen him since.”

Dong already was clearly feeling better. He was now sitting on his giant stinking nickel sock, muttering something about IRAs.

I was still reeling over the whole It’s-not-like-the-entire-fate-of-all-biological-life-in-the-universe-hinges-on-what-happens-or-anything line from the AI description.

“Dong, darling, I’m sure Corky doesn’t hate you. The women who have him are clearly keeping you two apart, and we will get to the bottom of it,” Donut said. “But we must do it quickly. It sounds like we have a way to get the two pieces back together. If we do that, then he won’t be a part of the Lady Dominators team, and then we can kill the ladies.”

Imani came into the garage. She paused at the sight of me. “Carl, what the hell are you wearing?”

“Don’t ask,” I said.

She just shook her head and patted me on the shoulder before kneeling down in front of Dong. Without another word, she took her wings and wrapped them around him. She nodded and stepped back.

“There’s nothing wrong with you now,” she said. “But I added some buffs that’ll help replenish your energy.”

“Good, good,” he said. “I feel much better. Thank you, Imani.” He turned his attention back to Donut. “I have been so selfish. I didn’t want him to go back to his other half. Porky didn’t like me, and I was afraid once the two pieces were reunited, the whole wouldn’t like me anymore, either. It’s why we fought. It’s why he left.” Dong paused. “He asked me to go with him. I didn’t. It is my greatest shame.”

Imani was still staring at Dong. She had a puzzled look on her face.

Carl: What’s up?

Imani: When he was outside, did he have that sock with him?

Donut: OH NO.

Carl: No. He left it here in the garage.

Imani: I don’t think the other team cast anything on him. I think it’s the sock. He’s getting actively healed by its proximity, but his health isn’t actually going up, which implies it’s sustaining him. Rosetta and Mordecai were worried about that thing. Neither have good things to say about sapient weapons. But if he’s addicted to it, I don’t know what to do about it yet.

Donut: I KNEW THAT DISGUSTING THING WAS BAD NEWS. IT GETS BIGGER EVERY DAY, TOO. IT SMELLS WORSE THAN CARL’S COSTUME. DO YOU THINK HE’LL DIE IF WE TAKE IT AWAY?

Imani: I have no idea, but we probably shouldn’t tell him yet until we have a plan. We don’t want the sock to panic.

“Imani!” Bigs shouted as she returned to the garage. “Whoop, whoop, bitch!” The slug was followed by Samantha, Mongo, and Rend. All of them except for Samantha were stumbling. All had the Inebriated debuff over them. Samantha was chatting about her “ex-boyfriend Charles,” who’d been the best bartender she’d ever met.

“Mongo!” Donut shouted. “I told you not to drink! You’re going to turn into an alcoholic!”

Mongo screeched and waved both of his wings joyfully.

Rend giggled and turned back toward the food truck, which continued to swarm with gremlins.

As this went on, I watched Dong, thinking. Thinking of all the pain, all the suffering inflicted by this damn dungeon. I am so sick of this. The first sparks of an idea were starting to form.

Carl: I agree. Let’s keep an eye on him and make sure he’s safe. We still can’t let him go on races. This is now a priority.