Karen’s skull bounced off the floor again. This time, it split enough to wedge a finger in it. After that, it took little effort to pry it open wider—enough to fit my entire hand.

  I really hoped the kid got away. She’d already seen me kill her mother with my bare-franking hands. She didn’t need the additional trauma of watching me snack on her mom like some unhinged serial killer.

  Unable to stop myself, I plopped down on the floor and dug in.

  I braced for the taste, but nothing could have prepared me for it. Like a starving man with a bowl of tapioca pudding and no spoon, I shoveled the first fingerful into my mouth.

  I was ready to gag and projectile vomit everywhere, but the moment it touched my zombie tongue… the single neuron in my brain lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree.

  My puny brain couldn’t handle the overstimulating experience. It was so damn good. My eyes rolled back as I had my first braingasm.

  What the frank was going on? How? I hated it. I hated myself. Of all things, why was it… delicious?!

  I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand. I just kept stuffing one delicious scoop after another into my mouth.

  It had a silky-smooth, almost butter-like texture, like a perfectly ripe avocado. The flavor was best experienced, but if I had to explain it, I’d say there was a deep, savory richness to it that finished with a metallic tang.

  I knew it was wrong. I should’ve been repulsed—not critiquing its umami. But I couldn’t stop enjoying it. My body felt rejuvenated, like it was healing from the nourishment. I heard the little taps of bullets hitting the carpet as my body expelled the spent slugs.

  I didn’t even wipe my mouth on my sleeve after I polished off my first brain. I just got up and shuffled over to my second victim: HeatGunGuy.

  I’m eating them in the order I killed them. I wondered if that meant anything. Probably not, just more NPC crap.

  Feral Frank got his wish as I dropped to my hands and knees, lapping up the spilled brain juice off the floor. It had soaked into the carpet, but that didn’t stop me. I did my best not to read into it. Just another experience to toss on the pile of repressed traumatic memories when I was done.

  After finishing my second meal, another System message popped up. This one was different, less intrusive. It flashed in the corner of my vision like a brief notification.

  [Your Intellect has increased to level 2.]

  While it didn’t annoy Feral Frank, it annoyed me I couldn’t read it. Not sure what it was, but something felt different. I couldn’t tell exactly what because I was too busy licking my damn fingers.

  BatMan was next in the buffet. Feral Frank shuffled me over to him and gave him the same treatment as Karen.

  A couple of whacks of his head off the floor and I was in. Just like the first two, I had myself another mind-melting braingasm. I couldn’t help but moan as I ate.

  Cleaning out BatMan’s skull earned me another notification.

  [Your Intellect has increased to level 3.]

  I shrugged at the stupid jumbled text and reached for another scoop of brain. I was sad to learn there wasn’t any.

  It took me sucking off my finger to realize I was back in control. I quickly tossed my arms up with an excited grunt.

  Right, still can’t talk yet.

  I paused and blinked. I’d hurt people before. Even sent some to the hospital. But to the best of my knowledge, I hadn’t killed anyone. Not until today.

  Looking at BatMan’s empty head in my lap, I frowned. I probably should have been disgusted with myself, but that was the best damn meal of my life. Also, he’d been one of those HATE asshats, so no significant loss there.

  My manager started yammering in my ear.

  “Frank, you’re back! Oh buddy, you broke the rules. I don’t know how, and I don’t really care. There’s a reward—”

  I had no franking clue what he was going on about, but I could tell he was excited. I looked up at the ceiling and started grunting like an ape. Not enough to form words, but maybe enough to get my point across.

  “Oh, sorry. Forgot about the…” His voice trailed off.

  Apparently not. I tried another approach. I threw my hands in the air, waving for him to shut up with one hand while pointing to my ears and mouth with the other. He got the message, I think. Either way, he stopped yapping.

  Well, this isn’t going to work…

  I sat there contemplating the most obvious answer with the mess I’d made.

  Frank it, I thought. They aren’t using them anymore.

  I got to my feet and walked over to GrannyPollock, cracked her open, and took a bite. She tasted just like the other two, only there were faint sour notes. It wasn’t bad, just… aged?

  Stop playing with your food, I told myself. This was someone’s grandma. A racist, bigoted, HATE cult grandma, but she was probably still dear to someone.

  Closing my eyes helped with the guilt.

  I wasn’t eating GrannyPollock. Instead, I pictured myself at a fancy Asian restaurant where questionable, yet delicious parts of exotic animals had purposely vague names. It didn’t matter if I was eating tiger testicles, only that they kept them coming and I didn’t ask questions.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  [Your Intellect has increased to level 4.]

  I still couldn’t read it, but I could guess it was my Intellect leveling up.

  “Frank? Can you hear me now?”

  Yes, I thought, but only managed a grunt.

  Goddammit. I sighed and gave an exaggerated nod.

  “Alright, we’re only one brain away from communicating again.”

  We? I scoffed, but it sounded more like a slurred moan.

  He wasn’t doing jack shit. I was the one out here eating people. But he had a point; I needed to empty at least one more of these jackasses today.

  Morbid curiosity led me to eye HeartAttackBetty next. I wondered if dying of “natural” causes would affect the taste. I knew those weren’t their real names, but anyone who might’ve known them was dead.

  Almost everyone.

  I spun in place searching for the kid. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about her so quickly. When I went over to where I’d tossed her, all I could find was an old, knee-high trunk. The carpet was clean.

  No blood—that’s good, right?

  Maybe I didn’t hit her as hard as I thought. Lucky. I was no slouch before getting turned into a zombie, and my manager said I had Super Strength level two. It sure as shit felt like I had superhuman strength: smashing pews and literally tearing people apart…

  I took a step closer, looking for drag marks, footprints, or something that might tell me where she’d gone off to.

  The trunk trembled as I crouched, or at least I swore it did.

  “Be careful, Frank. That looks like a treasure chest, and those aren’t supposed to be lying around here. Don’t touch it.”

  The trunk-treasure-thing only came up to my knee, way too small for the girl to be hiding in.

  If something was in there, I sure as hell wasn’t about to let it out. I had enough shit to deal with.

  I went over to HeartAttackBetty, who’d fully slid off the pew and onto the floor. Don’t ask me why I called her Betty; she just looked like one to me.

  I stooped down and took her head in both my hands. With a grunt and a violent twist, I snap, crackle, and popped her head off. Then, I flipped it upside down, cracked open the hole at the base. And bam, I had my very own bucket of braincorn.

  I shut my eyes and pretended I was enjoying a nice, buttery bowl of popcorn while replaying the latest John Wick movie in my mind. Keanu’s gun-fu was spectacular, but I’d never been a very flashy fighter. Cracking some jerk in the nose with my fist usually did the job.

  I saw but still couldn’t read the next notification, even with my eyes shut.

  [Your Intellect has increased to level 5.]

  “That’s weird,” I said.

  “Hey, look who’s talking again!” my manager said.

  I could almost hear his smile. A notable shift from his previous doom and gloom.

  “You’re in a good mood.”

  “Yes—yes, I am. And ‘weird’ doesn’t even begin to explain what happened.”

  I was talking about the fact that I could see System messages with my eyes closed. My guess was they were in my head, like my manager, and not just part of my vision. But I’d interacted with it to choose my class?

  Probably some interactive hologram bullshit. I shrugged. It just works. That’s all that matters.

  “You keep stuffing your face while I get you caught up.”

  “Tell me what happened to the girl.” I wouldn’t budge another inch until he answered.

  “Girl? Which girl?”

  “Taylor.”

  I’d been avoiding her name. That’s how you got attached to people. It’d be easier for everyone if she was just a kid.

  “Not my circus, not my monkey. The only monkey I care about is you, Frank. She’s got her own manager looking out for her. But if she’s anything like her mom and the rest of the HATE cult… I don’t know what to tell you. It’s not good.”

  “What good is a damn manager if she ends up dead?!”

  “Her manager will still be there when she re-spawns.”

  “The frank is a re-spawn?”

  “You eat; I’ll talk. That’s the deal. We gotta hurry before the building collapses.”

  “Why—”

  He cut me off and said, “One of your missed messages was that the temporary structure that brought you into the World Dungeon is going to collapse in an hour. And that was twenty minutes ago.”

  My manager took a breath and dove in.

  “You’ve entered the Tutorial, which technically counts as expansion zero. Each expansion usually has different rules from the previous but always has a different World Quest that unlocks the next expansion.”

  I nodded, trying really hard to avoid eating the dumbest of the HATE bunch. Unfortunately, every bite counted.

  “The first player or team to complete the World Quest earns the World-first reward. But doing so kicks off a seven-day timer until the next expansion arrives. Other players can also complete the World Quest, but they’ll only earn the repeatable reward. It’s nowhere near as good as the World-first. Speaking of which, you earned an honest-to-gods Universe-first!”

  “And that’s better than a World-first?”

  “So much better, but we’ll deal with that once we get back to your Lair.”

  Lair?

  I wanted to ask what he meant, but figured he’d get to it eventually.

  “As you’ve recently experienced—”

  He paused. “I guess experienced isn’t the proper term; you were unconscious for most of it. Which was scary. For me at least. I almost gave up on you, but you woke up just in time. Anyway! The new expansion doesn’t overwrite the old parts. You Know Who sort of pushes the towns and existing zones apart, adding the new zones in between. You’ll see, but I need you to eat up first. Gotta be able to read for what I want to show you next.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  I’d already broken GunMan’s neck, so I started with him and created myself another people-bucket. I tucked it into the crook of my arm and started popping back the juicy gray kernels, then grimaced. He was terribly bland.

  My manager waited for me to finish, so I powered through the underwhelming meal until I got another notification.

  [Your Intellect has increased to level 6.]

  Finally! I could read that one.

  He also noticed.

  “Great job,” he said. “Now, if you bring up your Main Menu, I can show you where to find the rules for the Tutorial.”

  “How do I bring up my—”

  The instant I thought the word, the System interface appeared.

  “Whoa, that was easy.”

  “Yeah, that’s intended. But accessing your Menu is an NCA.”

  “And that means?”

  “Sorry, lots to cover. Non-combat action. Self-explanatory… I hope.”

  “Yeah, yeah… I got it.”

  “There’s a QoL—sorry, Quality of Life—upgrade you can purchase to open your Menu in combat.”

  I sighed. “Great, microtransactions…”

  “Don’t worry, you won’t be able to afford most of them.”

  I wasn’t sure whether that was supposed to be reassuring, but it wasn’t.

  Also, who in their right mind would want to open their Menu in combat? It was hard enough to walk with it open. I couldn’t imagine trying to fight like this. Useless microtransactions were for schmucks anyway.

  My manager walked me through the Menu. I could flip through it with a thought, but any interactions like selections required an actual tap.

  “And this is where you’ll find the current expansion rule set.” He gave me a couple of minutes to review.

  I read the first line.

  Tutorial Rules:

  PvP is disabled.

  That was some bullshit. I knew at least seven corpses that would beg to differ.

  Lair raids are disabled.

  There was that word again: Lair. It sounded like a dungeon, but we were already in a dungeon. I kept reading.

  Global level is capped at 10.

  “Does the global level cap overrule my class level cap?” I’d played some games where global effects overruled local effects before.

  “Nope.”

  Damn, guess this wasn’t one of those games.

  First re-spawn does not reset player level during the Tutorial. Re-spawned players are confined to their Lairs until the next expansion.

  I hefted the head I’d torn off GunMan’s body. It landed with a wet squish. My guilt shifted to annoyance when I learned there was a remote possibility of running into these HATE shitheads again.

  “Now switch over to the Quest submenu,” he said. “You’ll see the World Quest and the World-first rewards.”