CJ rolled over on his back. Everything he was wearing stank of beer at this point anyway. Might as well roll around in it some more. Just then three new streaks of light fired off into the heavens above them. If the pattern persisted, that meant they were at the beginning of the third and final challenge. That meant danger. So, he sat up and took a good look around. The last dregs of beer were flowing from the can to his left. They were standing on the picnic tablecloth; the beer did not sink into cloth itself which told him it was one of those cheap plastic tablecloths. It was a good fifty to sixty yards of checkered flat landscape to either side of him before the table ended in a drop and darkness.

  Ahead of them were enormous plate settings. There was a paper plate with a plastic knife and fork about the same size as CJ. Four different place settings of them. In the center of the table stood one object. It was a plastic tub with an indecipherable label on it. Indecipherable was too broad, there was one very clearly visible thing on the label that CJ could read. It was an expiration date, ending in 2020.

  “Expired in 2020?! Oh man what ever is in that tub has definitely gone bad.”

  Those words got both Monty and Skippers’ attention. The later of which had just gotten to his feet. His left arm hung limp at his side. The shotgun CJ gave him tucked in close to his chest with his right arm. Skipper didn’t have the same kinetic energy protection that CJ boasted. Even still he stepped up next to CJ shaking the cold beer out of his beard.

  “What do you think it is?” asked Skipper.

  “Could be a dip or a… Hang on your hurt.” CJ flicked his right hand and pulled out a water bottle filled halfway with some red sloshing liquid. “Drink this. One of my people made it. Should patch up at least a little.”

  CJ spared a glance over at Skipper who was looking at him with one eyebrow raised. Then he realized the man had no spare hand to unscrew the cap with. Quicker than the eye could see, CJ spun the cap off with a deft flick of his right thumb before handing over to Skipper. For his part, Skipper didn’t miss a step. He leaned the shotgun against his leg and downed the health booster. While it didn’t fix his left arm, some color came back to his cheeks.

  “Should we look around first?” Skippers’ eyes surveying the picnic table. “It would be nice to find an easily defensible location to reload the shotgun with that ammo you promised me.”

  As CJ started to manifest shotgun shells from his inventory into Skipper’s hand, that was when the boss decided to make its move. The lid on the plastic tub that stood a good eight feet tall, and five feet wide flipped open emitting an unholy stench that had both men covering their noses. A mound of off white and mold colored viscous fluid rose up out of the tub. It had no eyes and moved like thick mud. The top of the mound rotated slowly to the right pausing when it was lined up with CJ’s group. It raised its head back and an indent appeared, widening with mucilaginous strands of its own substance connecting the top to the bottom of the new void.

  “Is that its fucking mouth?” spat Monty.

  An arm appeared from its right side, syrupy thick with the rotten substance. Than it flung a globule of itself at the team. They all scattered in every direction. The projectile hit the ground with a wet glopping sound. Then it began to exude a noxious odor.

  New Debuff Gained: Rancid- While in the area effect of Rancid, you will be overcome with urge to wretch and heave out your stomach’s contents. This will negatively affect your ability to fight.

  CJ bent over and puked his brains out into the now beer and slop covered ground. Distantly he could hear Skipper yelling something but the lack of focus and need for air overrode his thoughts. He even took ten points of health damage from violently contracting his abdominal muscles. Seeing his health bar dip in his slate interface shocked his brain into firing all neurons. He triggered Flashportation and it was a good thing too.

  Another meteor of sick slapped into the space CJ had just occupied. After CJ appeared thirty yards to the left of his original position he lost the Rancid debuff. His breathing went back to normal. The air here was better, and he took in deep lungsful of it. Although he was now closer to the beast it just stank instead of being debilitating. The urge to vomit had completely disappeared.

  Dread swept across CJ’s face as a thought occurred to him. If that thing actually nails one of us with that attack, we’d never be able to top puking. We could actually vomit ourselves to death. We couldn’t get enough of that shit off our clothes and certainly not out of Monty’s hair. Speaking of which, Monty and Skipper were running all over the place keeping as close to the edge of the table as possible.

  New Message from Party Leader CJ: Monty, don’t touch that stuff. Don’t get any of it on you. It comes with a Rancid debuff just for breathing in.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  New Message from Monty: No Shit! Kill that fucking thing!

  CJ should have suspected that would be the response. They had its attention right now as it kept flinging globules of itself at them while they ran. Each one created a new no man’s land that none of them could set foot in. He needed a plan, and he needed it now. Pulling his revolver from storage, he shot the main body with three rounds only to see the bullets sink into the beast disappearing below waves of pasty gooey slime. The creature didn’t even turn to look back at what hit it. Why would it? It had no eyes.

  Think CJ, think. There has to be a way to beat this thing. Looking around the battlefield, he was struck with inspiration. Dashing over to the nearest plate, they were essentially at four corners around the beast, the lower left plate had nothing on it, but it was huge. CJ ran around putting the plate between the tub of ick and himself. He reached down and lifted the far side. While it may be paper it was still the size of one of those satellite dishes found at a TV station. He walked under the plate as it lifted into the air. Hand over hand as he tried to balance the odd shape.

  All at once it came to him. If they could cut off the angles of attack from the monster, then they could corral it, buy some time to figure out the best method of dealing with it before it turned the entire picnic table into a toxic waste land. He felt a thud against the plate as it was now at a hundred twenty degree angle in the air. The force of the slimy projectiles were not enough to push the plate back down. CJ grinned ear to ear.

  New Message from Party Leader CJ: Get these plates up in the air. They should block the projectiles, so it doesn’t cover everything in sick.

  New Message from Monty: Took you long enough. How do we keep them up?

  CJ hadn’t thought that far ahead. He looked left and right before a mana blue sheen flashed across the plastic fork to his right side.

  New Message from Party Leader CJ: The plastic ware. Wedge them under the back side of the plates. Jam the forks through the plate if you have to.

  Distantly he could hear Monty barking orders out to Skipper. Skipper had been doing his level best to avoid the glops of viscid horror without dropping his damn shotgun. CJ could spare no more time for them as he cast Earthen Fist. He prayed internally that the material under the tablecloth was a wooden park table. The spell connected and shards of weather beaten wood spiked up through the cloth forming into four foot tall hand. In his mind CJ knew that wood being used for this spell really stretched the wording. As he thought that, the form of the fist began to waiver. Pieces of wood drooping off and he could feel the spell fighting against something.

  With no more time to dwell on it he had the fist grab the plastic fork and jam the tines pointing down into the plate. They burst through the paper on the other side, the angle he used giving the fork a clawed grip through the plate. Ending up with a makeshift plastic stand. CJ took his hands off the plate and just stared at the wooden limb. It looked like the magic was straining against the restraints holding in its form. Then a shock of pain ran through CJ’s left eye socket. He collapsed to the ground as he felt something hard scrape up against bone in his skull. White hot pain permeated through his mind before it winked out of existence as quickly as it came.

  Condition Removed: Monocular Vision.

  Unlocked Passive Ability: Third Eye - You can see the flow of mana moving through the world. Your Third Eye can observe Abilities, Spells, and Techniques through the veil of how mana interacts with them.

  Ability Evolution: Third Eye Migration- Your third eye has evolved due to your specific experiences. It has taken up residence in your left eye and will now see for you. This grants you normal vision as well as all previous Third Eye capabilities. Gaze upon the inner workings of mana at your own peril.

  “Fuck that hurt!” screamed CJ clutching at the side of his head now. He blinked a few times before wiping some crud from under his left eyelid. When he pulled his hand back he could see blood. “I need a mirror.”

  Was this why he could see the corridor between the real world and the inner dungeon worlds? Like when Roger was building things with his ability, he could see what was happening at the same time? CJ had so many questions and no one to answer them. Two thuds hit the plate he was behind, and he snapped back into action. Hopping up to his feet he judged the distance between him the upper left plate. CJ took off at full sprint speed noting he could probably place in an Olympic trial at this point. As soon as he passed out of the protection of his plate, he could see that Monty and Skipper had gotten the right upper plate in place. It looked wobbly at the moment, but CJ had incoming attacks to worry about.

  Telling himself that if one comes close he’d port closer to his goal with no hesitation. As it stood now he was outpacing the arc of the globules coming his way. Mid stride he cast a new Earthen Fist. It grew up from under the tablecloth just like last time. The spell straining against its bounds. Must be one element just outside the boundary of Earthen.

  The wooden splinter hand grabbed the plastic fork lying next to the plate as CJ made his way around the plate to start hoisting it up. It was when he had the plate up to one hundred and forty degrees that the plastic fork received a glop of fetid gelatinous phlegm right on the tines. Even if CJ got the fork to jam through the plate, the area around the base would be toxic.

  New Message from Party Leader CJ: It’s targeting the forks. Be ready.

  CJ took this lull in the fight to look at the creature again. Creating safe areas was good but wining the fight was better. He peaked around the corner of the plate he was holding up. Having let his earthen hand cast the fork towards the monster, his current plan was to roll the plate towards the hand. That way he could have the hand hold it up instead. He caught a glimpse of the goo monster as Skipper fired a blast from his shotgun. It sprayed the substance everywhere but there was no visible sign the creature even cared in the slightest. Then for a split second, CJ caught sight of what looked like a glowing blue orb floating through its substance. It dove down back into the mire and was gone in a heartbeat.

  “So that’s your game is it?”