Chapter Text
"Carl, I know this isn't what you want to hear but the AI is pretty adamant about you picking this race. You can't deny the benefits far outweigh the risks. You and Donut hired me to help you make the best choices to keep you alive for as long as possible and I genuinely do think this is gonna be your best bet, kid."
Rationally, everything that Mordecai just said makes perfect sense and he's 100% in the right.
That's not the problem here.
The problem is the fact that the AI is the one pushing this new race selection on him and any time he's been forced to go along with the damn freaky ass computer's wicked whims, he's ended up humiliated or just down right disgusted for his troubles. Sure, it usually comes with a great buff for his stats but at what cost?
His pride? His dignity? His sanity?
It doesn't feel worth it.
Turning back to the hovering wall of text in front of him, Carl opens the race description for the recommended class and tries not to let the disgust show on his face as the AI begins to read it in an uncomfortably low and seductive tone that sounds a little too close to being sexy for Carl's peace of mind.
Half-foot
Looking at the name, you might be a little confused as to why I'd willingly give you the option to have less feet on display but rest assured, daddy appreciates seeing those cute little tootsies of yours very much and he'd never trap something so gorgeous in those unholy feet prisons you little monkeys call socks...unless he was going to watch you slowly strip them off like the teasing little minx you are. This race actually has nothing to do with half-ing your me-service, if anything it doubles it! Isn't that great?
See, I've been learning some things about myself lately and I've discovered some delightful little kinks on that thing you fleeting flesh bags call the internet. I'm actually into the thought of my baby boy being a little more baby-like, so to speak.
This race will do just that! In addition to keeping you looking like your cute little self since you seem to care so much about still looking human, this race will make you about half the size that you are now! It's a win-win for both of us. There are also the following skill benefits:
+ 3 dexterity
+ 7 stealth
+ 21 charisma
- 2 strength
Choose wisely, baby boy. Do not disappoint daddy. And you better choose fast, time's a ticking, little boy!
"Oh, I don't know why you're being such a big baby about it Carl! I for one, think you'd look much cuter if you were smaller."
"Thanks, Donut." He answers dryly without looking away from the race selection screen as he continues mulling over his options.
There aren't many—very many good ones anyway according to Mordecai—and he's running out of time.
He needs to make a decision and fast.
"You're very welcome. Now hurry up and pick it so we can move onto the main event! I want to choose mine already and I'm sure my adoring fans are just dying to see what I pick!" Donut continues as if the damn cat couldn't pick up on the sarcasm dripping from his tone at all.
Knowing her, she probably couldn't.
"What about the strength debuff? Shouldn't we be trying to build my strength stat, not lower it?" He asks but even he can tell that it comes out sounding just as whiny and petulant as the AI seems to want him to be.
Mordecai gives him a sympathetic look.
"You'd think so but it's important that we build your other stats too so you don't end up creating too wide of a gap between your skills. Your current charisma level is dangerously low. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem since Donut's is near godly but I don't want you to end up in a situation without her where you're dead in the water." The incubus says with a frown marring his still ridiculously handsome face.
Why couldn't the AI had chosen that as his race?
He'd much rather be a walking sex god than some infantilized Hobbit.
Carl heaves out a heavy sigh and decides to just suck it up for now and do what's best for him and Donut, swallowing his pride to select the half-foot race with a cringe as what feels like the entire dungeon itself shakes around him with a suspiciously erotic sounding groan like the AI was touching itself.
Mordecai winces as well, somehow managing to look even more pitying than he did a second ago.
"Sorry, kid."
Carl takes a deep breath, trying not to think too hard about it as a strange warm and fuzzy sensation comes over him spreading from the tips of his toes all the way up to his ears in a rush of sudden unwelcome heat like a mix between the pins and needles of your foot falling asleep and the feeling of sinking into a warm bath both at the same time.
He must have closed his eyes at some point to brace himself without realizing or meaning to because he opens them a few seconds later to a squeal from Donut like she'd just been scheduled for an interview on the Opera show.
He isn't given the chance to ask her what the hell that was before he's tackled to the ground by a ball of flying fur which shouldn't have been possible as a grown ass 6'3 man and if he still was that size, it would be.
True to the AI's prediction, selecting the half-foot race had quite literally halved him.
Instead of the body of an adult man that Carl has grown used to over the course of his young adulthood, he's reduced to an almost pubescent body of a small humanoid creature sort of resembling a Hobbit from Lord Of The Rings but without the large feet he'd expect the AI to include in such a design.
He isn't given the time to dwell on it or even Donut cooing over how cute he is now as another menu materialized to replace the race selection screen, now showcasing a list of three classes.
It's unfortunately the same as the last screen, the best option is an AI recommended class that seems to be designed with the damn glorified code's personal fetish in mind.
Daddy's Little Trouble Maker!
This is a rare class that's only ever been available to one crawler in the history of the crawl and that would be you, baby boy! Did you know I could invent classes on the fly? Neither did I! But I can and I made this one special for my baby so be grateful or be a brat, I don't mind punishing you personally this time.
I couldn't help but notice how much my little trouble maker likes making things go BOOM! Now normally, a responsible daddy would keep fireworks and explosives safely out of the reach of little hands but I'm not normal and this ain't the suburbs little one.
You know those cats who have their claws ripped out and end up defenseless on the side of the road when their piece of shit owner decides to ditch them when they pee on the rug one too many times?
Yeah, that'd be you if I decided to be an asshole but lucky you, daddy loves you.
This class comes with the following benefits:
+ 1 Bomb Surgeon Skill
+ 1 Trap Engineer Skill
+ 1 Unarmed Skill
- 25% damage when using bladed weapons
+25% Mana cost for damage-dealing spells
+5% skill progression speed in all trap-making and bomb-making skills.
+ 2 Hide in Shadows Skill
+ Fear spell
+ 1 Intelligence
+ 5 Charisma
+5 to the Find Trap Skill
+5 to the Backfire Skill
+5 to the Escape Plan Skill
Access to the Desperado Club (already obtained)
Access to the Naughty Boys Employment Agency
"What the fuck?" Carl says out loud only to reel back in horror at the high-pitched voice that can't belong to him.
...but it does and that isn't even their biggest problem.
Their biggest problem comes a few minutes later when Donut selects the Plushie Princess class without reading the full description and turns into an honest to God stuffed animal.