Tires squealed, and four of us lurched off the starting line, zooming toward the entrance to the massive factory. Sparks flew off the neon factory sign as we approached.

I had set up a group of tiny explosives on the roof of the truck, and I activated them.

Bam! Fiberglass shattered, and the drum barrel of the tommy gun blasted away, clearing my windshield.

Osvaldo: Careful, puta! That shrapnel hit our ass!

Carl: Sorry!

“Carl!” Donut called, looking in the mirror. “Dwight is just sitting there on the starting line! He’s not going!”

“Don’t worry about him,” I called as the fast-moving Bruna rushed ahead. I swerved to the left, moving directly behind the GTO, which was also rapidly gaining distance. I hit the pedal, and we accelerated. If we didn’t make our move soon, we’d lose them. “Eat the page!”

We passed under the entrance gate.

Entering the Gasworks Screw Factory, Steel Mill, and Doll Workshop.

Thwum!

The containment appeared and then turned invisible. A light in the corner of Dr. Metcalf’s interface blinked green, indicating it as active. We had to keep out of contact with the other vehicles. Any continuous contact for more than five seconds, and our containments would merge.

Ahead, we entered a giant industrial room filled with what appeared to be piles and piles of banger spheres. The dirty floor was made of concrete, and the distant walls appeared to be corrugated metal. The lights were off, but a red glow filled the far side of the dusty, dingy room, making the shadowy piles of spheres look like the shells of giant beasts until you got too close.

There were dozens of these piles, all reaching to the high ceiling, which was at least fifteen meters. These were, I assumed, metal pellets to be melted down, and we had to swerve around them. The room itself was many times that in width, reminding me of the football-stadium-like room where we picked secondary-class selection on the sixth floor.

A wave of heat washed over us the moment we entered, and I knew without the containment, it would already be deadly hot, and this was just the entrance.

Hundreds of little NPCs filled the floor of the factory, and they scattered as we rolled in. These were tiny, round-faced creatures, each about the size of Zev. They all wore bright yellow hard hats, and they looked to be a race of creature that was a smaller version of a Bopca mixed with a gnome. They were all levels 10 to 15, and they were called knockers.

I activated the newly upgraded Bubble Buddy shield and clicked the Heat Sink button, which turned on with a hum, and it lowered the temperature even further.

Behind me, Grigori was loudly vomiting. He’d turned not into the sink but the empty deep fryer.

Far ahead, there were about a dozen smaller doors just wide enough for a pair of vehicles. A deep red glow emanated from all the entrances. About ten of these doorways had wide conveyor belts leading up to them that were pulling the metal pellets into the next room. The other two doors were larger, and this was where Osvaldo was heading. Team Free Love’s van also zoomed ahead, aiming at the second, conveyor-belt-free door. I cringed as the floating van mowed over a pair of the fleeing knockers.

I saw from the map that the conveyors all led up to the second level, where the pellets would get dropped into giant melting vats. One would have to make a jump off the end of the belt, lest you’d fall into the vats of molten metal. But if one made the jump, they’d bypass the third room, which was where the molten metal would be shaped into massive coils. That third room would be dangerous as fuck, but it didn’t require a big jump.

If I were choosing our route, I’d have skipped this first jump and tried to zoom around the vats. But it appeared the Lady Dominators were aiming for one of the conveyor belts, meaning we’d have to drive over a belt filled with metal balls. And make a jump.

I growled and tightened my grip on the wheel. I warily eyed the new button on the dash, just to the left of the GPS unit. This was the rocket-acceleration activator. In theory, the rockets, combined with the Bubble Buddy upgrade, would allow us to fly for a short period. But we hadn’t tested it yet.

There were suddenly vehicles and mounts everywhere coming from both sides, zooming in around the piles of metal balls. A fire truck, lights and siren blaring, zoomed up from my far left and appeared to attempt to sideswipe an ostrichlike mount with goblins on the back, but the ostrich flapped and rose into the air, and the fire truck smashed right into a pile of metal balls that caused the truck to flip and the balls to go everywhere. The goblins cackled and laughed and flipped off the truck as they zoomed ahead, trampling a group of the fleeing knockers.

The Lady Dominators were angling toward the second-to-last door on the left, also mowing through the tiny NPCs, cutting a diagonal line across the factory floor. The conveyor belt on this one was thick with the round metal balls. I reached over and increased our wheel size slightly. That would slow us, but it would increase our traction to the belt.

The new golden wheels of the Dominator car had spread out laterally, and an impressive shower of sparks flew off the sides, leaving me to wonder if that was on purpose or if something was already wrong.

Bang! Bang! I didn’t see the vehicle that shot the weapon, but a pile of balls exploded far off to my right, and the balls rocketed through the room like shrapnel. A massive giraffe squealed out in surprise, tumbling from sight, its shield fuzzing like a buffering video.

A hover-car thing with twin flamethrowers spun along to our left, having been shot by something. It hit the edge of a pile of spheres and rose up into the air, leaving a curl of black smoke as more metal balls shot out in all directions, including off our shield. More explosions and spells ripped back and forth across the room.

We bumped as we hit the edge of the conveyor belt, crunching over the metal balls. Far ahead, the GTO disappeared into the second door, already a good five seconds ahead of us.

But then a dark shape appeared in quick pursuit.

Bianca. Prepotente’s hellspawn familiar was out and flying through the factory, likely at home in this heat. The goat dragon roared and pushed through into the next room.

The plan, which had been Prepotente’s idea once he heard about the problem, was to have Bianca grab Corky out of the back seat. We’d first have to defeat the shield, but it was a simple and straightforward idea. If that didn’t work, the backup plan—which I’d come up with just about ten minutes previously—was a little more iffy. It involved the Big-Ass Magnet spell Donut had just eaten from her Feast book.

A shrill alarm filled the cab.

Containment Warning!

The voice was sudden and loud and similar to that of the card-battle announcer from the eighth floor. But the alarm stopped after just a second. A fat gray, monstrously ugly creature zoomed ahead of us, disconnecting our two containments before the five seconds. The mammoth-sized mount didn’t have a saddle so much as a square cage that had a secondary glowing shield over it. At the front of the cage, holding the reins in a single hand, was Prepotente. Standing behind him was Jurgen. The man held a giant battle-axe in each hand. He turned to salute us as the creature galloped ahead.

“Wow, look at the thing!” Donut yelled, chewing on her page.

“That is a Perriso!” Dong called from behind us. “Wonderful mounts! They are deceptively fast for such large creatures.”

We bumped again as we moved to the next room, revealing a set of rising conveyor belts and a haphazard tangle of giant bubbling vats. The temperature noticeably rose, but it was still bearable. The little gauge by the heat sink was still in the green.

Prepotente: I am directly behind the Pontiac. Will be attempting to defeat their shield, but I will wait until after the jump. After the shield is defeated, Bianca will deliver this half-mantaur to you, and then she will return to us for defense. Good luck, Carl.

Carl: I see you! We’re just behind you!

Far off to our right, one of the conveyor belts tumbled over as a group of two vehicles spun away. One landed in a vat of molten metal while the other, an old roundish car with no obvious upgrades painted a dull yellow, spun once in the air and then landed soundly on the floor and continued. The car was an AMC Pacer. I only knew that because my grandfather had had that same car.

“Carl, that’s team Yokai!” Donut called when she saw the yellow car. “Our friends from karaoke!”

Just ahead of us, the conveyor belt curved to the right and then curved again, going under another belt before the belt dropped all the contents into the bubbling vat below. Across the way, easily ninety meters farther into the room, only slightly lower, a second conveyor belt also dropped its contents into a vat. This would be where we’d have to land. But when we did land, we’d be moving against the conveyor belt, which arced up into a higher room deeper into the factory. This distant conveyor belt was dropping a different substance, some sort of white chalky powder, into a different type of vat. The entire second half of the room was filled with a thick, roiling smoke.

I held my breath as the GTO, with Bianca floating just behind it, made their jump.

The golden tires turned, facing downward like a spaceship from some sci-fi movie, and the car rocketed over the space, soaring as it aimed for the opposite conveyor belt. Prepotente’s Sweety hurled her giant form into the air just behind it.

The car landed soundly with a crunch as Sweety galloped through the air with her fire feet. Ethereal wings fluttered, helping her steer toward the track.

As Sweety moved to land, we approached the jump.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

“Hold on!” I yelled.

The edge wasn’t a ramp at all. Just a drop-off. I reached over and smacked the rocket button just as we approached, and held tightly on to the wheel.

We all pushed back as the rocket engaged. Donut yowled as extra straps appeared around her. The Bubble Buddy’s floating upgrade mixed with the gyro kept us stable, but after just a second, I could tell the rocket was way too powerful, and we were going to overshoot. I quickly tapped it off as we hurtled through the air, correcting with the wheel as the bubble upgrade, thankfully, allowed me to correct our trajectory. Sort of.

Ahead, Sweety landed gently as we rapidly caught up with the slower-moving tapir.

A group of rockets launched from the tapir and, faster than I thought possible, slammed into the back of the Dominators’ car as it disappeared into the next room.

We thumped heavily onto the track as Grigori cried behind us. I ran right off the side, but the bubble kept us from falling, and I swerved back onto the path, almost running right into the back of Sweety.

Containment Warning!

I eased the brakes as the tapir sped up. With the ground under its feet, the creature galloped faster. A second set of missiles shot out, disappearing into the dark. There was a flash of explosion.

We ascended against the moving treadmill, rising into the air as we progressed into the next room. We crunched and were once again in the dark. All around us, vehicles who’d successfully made similar jumps on their own tracks entered the room and started zooming across the floor, heading toward a group of five exits.

Prepotente: Shield is down. Bianca will move in now.

This room was similar to the first one, but instead of piles of balls, there were piles of the white powder dotted around the room like giant anthills. A few vehicles had already crashed through the powder, causing it to fly everywhere. It didn’t stop the cars, but in seconds, everybody and everything in the room was covered in the thick white dust, and it became impossible to see. Our shield frothed like a sparkler as the powder misted all around.

I’d been so focused on the task at hand, I’d forgotten the stupid name of the track. And the sign under it. I quickly examined one of the mountains of white powder.

Donut scoffed. “Carl, is that what I think it is? It’s everywhere!”

“Err,” I said, upon reading the extra-long description.

Toddler Cocaine.

Also known as Daddy’s Little Snow Drops, this is a giant pile of low-dose but highly addictive cocaine specifically designed to be sold directly to children who are much too fragile to enjoy and too poor to afford the higher-grade stuff.

This is the raw product before the patent-pending Wack Flavoring is added.

The Coblyn Corporation has a problem. They’re addicts. All of them.

These small gnomelike creatures were unable to stop the world from encroaching on their caves. Once the larger, stronger, and more powerful creatures of the world discovered the rich minerals buried under their feet, they did what large, strong people do. They took it for themselves, never mind that these caves were the only home the knockers had ever known.

The knockers were too weak to fight back. They had nowhere else to go. So they did the next best thing. They started manufacturing high-grade drugs and selling it to the miners. Miners with an “E.”

Fast-forward a few years, and the knocker community had pulled themselves up by their bootstraps. Yes, the Corporatocracy running the mines made drug use illegal. At least the drugs that weren’t sold by them. They did everything in their power to stop it. They vilified the knockers. They tried to eradicate them. They attempted their own alternatives.

But no matter what corporate did, they couldn’t stop the upward trajectory of these plucky little drug dealers. These corporate suits learned what a thousand organizations and governments throughout history already knew. If you go to war against drugs, drugs will always win. Drugs will win because what you’re really doing is going to war against the biological imperative all living creatures have to find comfort and happiness. And if you’re unwilling or unable to first provide that, artificial alternatives, no matter how destructive, will always prevail.

A funny thing happened after that. The knockers, finding themselves absolutely loaded, tried to do something with that money. They formed the Coblyn Corporation, and they started to buy up legitimate businesses. After all, while they were making a ton of money, they still didn’t have as much as the Corporatocracy running the mines.

So they started buying the ore from their own land. They milled it, turned it into product, sold it. All aboveboard. And then they branched out, selling toys, skateboards, fidget spinners—bullshit like that.

But it wasn’t enough. In selling drugs to the miners, again with an “E,” they fell into their own trap. While the miners got strung out, they themselves became addicted to the money they were earning.

It’s a terrible circle, that. There’s not really a lesson here or a point to any of this, just a sad observation. We’re always seeking comfort, and when we don’t get it, we can be pretty destructive. And by “we,” I mean, those of us with the ability to grasp what’s around us.

Anyway, the knockers, upon realizing how well their dolls were selling and unable to get a piece of that hot, hot legal pharmaceutical market, came up with the next best thing. If they could sell illegal drugs to the miners with an “E,” they could also start selling drugs to the minors with an “O.”

Kids are a lot stupider than adults, after all. You can get them addicted to stuff really easily.

Their new, secret product is cocaine for toddlers! It comes in different flavors, and each flavor has its own mascot with a matching doll! My favorite is Sally Speedball. She’s the blueberry one, and she comes with a twelve-pack of press-on bump nails and two free hits. She, Toot-Toot, and Belushi are part of an all-girl band called the Nose Candy Star Dusters.

Oh, by the way, the knockers are pretty harmless. But they’re very protective of their new product. The workers in the outer rooms can’t fight back. Their magically built help, however . . .

Yeah. Watch your ass.