Chapter 6: My First Time in the Girls' Bathroom Went Totally Wrong (Where My Innocence Went to Die Together With Monster)
The rogue inflatable badger, it turned out, was less "terrifying monster" and more "overly enthusiastic balloon animal with a vendetta against gravity." It was bouncing erratically down the senior hallway, propelled by a rogue gust of wind from a strategically opened window, occasionally whacking unsuspecting upperclassmen with its oversized paw.
Honestly? It was less scary and more like a scene from a particularly bizarre children's birthday party gone wrong. My internal System, however, seemed to disagree:
[MINI-BOSS ENCOUNTER: INFLATABLE BADGER (Lv. ???). Weakness: Sharp Objects and Existential Dread. Recommended Strategy: Avoid Direct Confrontation Unless You Have a Pin.]
Rhea and Tiffany were practically doubled over with laughter, dodging the badger's clumsy lunges. Even I had to admit, there was a certain slapstick charm to the whole thing. And hey, every near-miss seemed to net me a tiny bit of XP. Apparently, surviving inanimate object attacks was a skill I was slowly leveling up.
Eventually, a couple of surprisingly agile teachers managed to corner the rebellious rodent and deflate it with what looked suspiciously like a confiscated umbrella. The hallway returned to a semblance of order, though the lingering scent of cheap plastic and teenage panic hung in the air.
[QUEST: SPIRIT WEEK CHAOS! - Minor Victory Achieved. Rewards: 15 XP, Title Unlocked: 'Slightly Less Likely to be Mauled by Inflatables'.]
"'Slightly less likely'?'" I muttered. "'So there's still a chance?'"
Rhea, still chuckling, said, "Well, that was... eventful. Nature calls. Be right back." And with that, she headed towards the girls' bathroom, Tiffany trailing after her.
I leaned against a locker, idly appraising a motivational poster featuring a stock photo of smiling students.
[ITEM APPRAISED: Motivational Poster (Common). Effect: Minimal. May induce eye rolling.]
A few minutes ticked by, the usual hallway hum resuming. Then, the atmosphere shifted. It started with a high-pitched shriek from inside the girls' bathroom. Then another. Then a cacophony of yells and the unmistakable sound of multiple pairs of feet pounding against tile.
Suddenly, the bathroom door burst open, and a flood of girls spilled out into the hallway, their faces a mixture of terror and utter disbelief. They were pointing back into the bathroom, their voices a jumbled mess of panicked words.
"What is it?!"
I yelled over the commotion, my heart starting to pound.
"There's... there's something... in there!"
The girl stammered, pointing a trembling finger at the still-swinging bathroom door.
Then it happened.
Not a bang, not a flash of fire, but a sudden, brutal force erupted from within the girls' bathroom. It was like an invisible shockwave, a physical thump that resonated in my chest. Dust and small debris – bits of tile, stray gravel that shouldn't have been anywhere near a school bathroom – blasted outwards, coating the hallway in a fine layer of grit. The bathroom door broken with a violent WHAM.
Panic erupted anew. Students screamed and scrambled backward, tripping over backpacks and each other. My internal System went into overdrive:
[CRITICAL EVENT DETECTED! CHAOS ENERGY SURGE! MONSTER SPAWN OR POTENTIAL AREA-OF-EFFECT ATTACK! RECOMMENDATION: SEEK COVER IMMEDIATELY!]
"Rhea!" I yelled, my eyes scanning the fleeing crowd. "Where's Rhea?!"
Tiffany, her face ashen, grabbed my arm, her grip like a vise.
"She's still in there! After... after the first screams... then that thing... it's big... something's in there with her!"
Her voice cracked with terror.
My blood ran cold. A heavy force. Something big. Trapped inside with Rhea. The rogue inflatable badger suddenly seemed like a minor inconvenience.
"We have to get her out!"
I shouted, pushing against the tide of terrified students.
Tiffany clung to my arm.
"But... what was that? What's in there?"
I didn't have an answer. But one thing was clear: whatever had just gone down in the girls' bathroom was way beyond spirit week gone wrong. And my friend was still inside.
Adrenaline surged through me, overriding the System's frantic warnings.
"Rhea!"
I roared, shoving past the last few terrified students and charging headfirst into the dust-filled doorway of the girls' bathroom.
The scene inside was utter chaos. Tiles were cracked and ripped from the walls, sinks were overturned, and a fine layer of gritty debris coated everything. Amidst the wreckage, Rhea stood her ground, wielding something that looked like it had been ripped straight out of a medieval armory, a massive, spiked mace that seemed impossibly heavy for her frame. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the handle, her stance surprisingly solid despite the destruction around her.
Opposite her, a creature that made the skeletal undead seem like a pleasant tea party. It was at least two meters tall, its skin a disturbing shade of angry red stretched taut over bulging muscles. Its features were vaguely humanoid but twisted into something brutal and monstrous, like a goblin that had spent way too much time in a nuclear tanning bed and hit the gym way too hard.
My internal System shrieked:
[HOSTILE ENTITY DETECTED! MUTATED RED GOBLIN (Lv. ???)! WARNING! EXTREME THREAT LEVEL! POSSIBLE BOSS ENCOUNTER! RECOMMENDATION: RETREAT! RETREAT!]
But retreat wasn't an option. Rhea was standing between this… thing… and the rest of the school. And she was facing it down with a weapon that looked like it belonged in a museum, not a middle school bathroom.
Her eyes met mine for a split second, a flicker of surprise quickly masked by a fierce determination. But beneath that resolve, I thought I saw something else – a fleeting spark of… not relief, exactly. More like a grim acknowledgment. Like she knew this was bad, really bad, and the sight of a (somewhat) familiar face meant she wasn't entirely alone in this nightmare. Then, her gaze snapped back to the red monstrosity, her mace held ready.
This wasn't spirit week gone wrong. This was something else entirely. Something dangerous. And my friend was in the thick of it.
Adrenaline still pumping, my brain finally caught up. Red goblin. Big mace. Rhea holding her own but clearly outmatched in sheer size. This wasn't a time for cautious appraisal or strategic retreats. This was a "friend in mortal danger" emergency.
My fingers fumbled for the inventory command in my mind. The familiar grid shimmered into existence, and my eyes locked onto the only vaguely weapon-like thing I possessed (besides the fire poker, which felt a little underwhelming against a two-meter-tall muscle monster). There it was: the "Rusted Spoon (Junk)" from the skeleton. Nope, definitely not that. Then, the "Moldy Mop (Junk)." Also a hard pass.
Wait. What was that glinting in the corner? Oh right. The skeleton had also dropped something else.
[Ancient Rusted Sword (Attack +5)]
Ancient? Attack +5? Way better than a spoon. With a mental command, I focused on the sword, willing it into my hand.
Poof.
The rusted sword materialized in my grip. It was longer than a letter opener, thankfully, with a jagged edge that looked like it had seen better centuries. The metal was pitted and brown with age, but it felt surprisingly solid in my hand. Attack +5. Against a Level ??? mutated goblin? Probably still suicide, but at least it was armed suicide.
"Rhea!"
I yelled, charging into the remaining space in the bathroom, brandishing the rusty blade like I knew what I was doing (spoiler alert: I absolutely did not).
"Two-on-one! Goblin gets double the rusty justice!"
The red creature turned its brutish head towards me, its eyes glowing with a malevolent red light. It let out a guttural snarl that sounded like rocks being ground together. Rhea glanced at me, a flicker of something – maybe disbelief, maybe a sliver of hope – in her eyes.
"Kyle? What are you doing?" she yelled over the creature's growl.
"Helping my friend not get turned into goblin paste!"
I yelled back, taking a shaky stance beside her, rusty sword held out in what I hoped resembled a defensive posture.
"You handle the pointy end of that… uh… medieval wrecking ball, and I'll try to… poke it with history?"
The red goblin roared again and took a lumbering step towards us. This was going to be messy.
My eyes darted around the ruined bathroom, a frantic search for anything that could give us an edge. My Appraisal skill was working overtime, painting the scene with its familiar blue text:
[Sink (Broken)] - Durability: Low. Potential Weapon: Minimal (unless you like throwing porcelain shards).
[Toilet (Cracked)] - Status: Unpleasant. Potential Weapon: Do not recommend.
[Broken Door (Wooden)] - Durability: Pathetic. Potential Weapon: Splinters? Maybe for psychological damage.
Not exactly an arsenal.
Then the red goblin was upon us. The small confines of the bathroom offered little room to maneuver against its massive frame. It lunged, its oversized, clawed hands reaching for my neck. No weapons needed for this brute; its sheer size and brutal strength were terrifying enough. My instincts, thankfully honed by a lifetime of dodging dodgeballs and rogue homework assignments, kicked in. My (slightly boosted) Dexterity and dodge skill allowed me to just barely twist away, the creature's thick fingers grazing my ear.
"Kyle!" Rhea shouted, her voice tight with worry. Without hesitation, she surged forward, swinging her heavy mace in a wide arc, putting herself between me and the monstrous goblin.
I didn't dare take my eyes off the red creature, but I frantically scanned the room again, my Appraisal skill still running. And then I heard it, that familiar ding!
[Appraisal Skill Leveled Up! Appraisal Skill Lv. 3]
With the increased skill, the information that flooded my vision was more detailed, more… alarming. Focusing on the red goblin, the blue text solidified:
[Mutated Red Goblin] - Lv. 31
HP: 550 / 550
SP: 550 / 550
MP: 2 / 2
Weaknesses: Fire, Blunt Force Trauma to the Head (Significant)
Level 31?! My stomach plummeted. It was more than twice Rhea's level, and still way higher than mine. Five hundred and fifty HP and SP? And two measly MP? So, not much in the magic department, thankfully. But that "Weakness: Blunt Force Trauma to the Head (Significant)"… that was Rhea's mace. That was our only real shot.
The red goblin wasn't lightning fast, but its movements were deliberate and powerful, each step shaking the already damaged bathroom. The confined space was a double-edged sword. While it limited the goblin's reach somewhat, it also meant we were constantly in its striking distance.
Rhea swung her massive mace again, the spiked head whistling through the air. It connected with the goblin's arm with a meaty thwack, but the creature barely flinched. It was like hitting a tree trunk with a baseball bat, you knew it made contact, but it didn't seem to do much to slow it down. The confined space meant Rhea couldn't get the full force behind her swings, and the goblin's thick hide seemed to absorb most of the impact.
Frustration flashed across Rhea's face as her powerful weapon failed to deliver a decisive blow. The goblin, however, was relentless, its glowing red eyes fixed on her, its massive hands swiping with terrifying speed. We were trapped in a brutal dance of near-misses and glancing blows, and the goblin was clearly winning..
The small space also hampered Rhea's weapon; there wasn't much room for a full, momentum-building swing.
My ancient, rusted sword? Utterly pathetic. Every time I managed to jab at the goblin, a battle notification flashed in my vision, a cruel reminder of my inadequacy:
[Kyle attacks Mutated Red Goblin: Att+14]
[Mutated Red Goblin Defense negates attack.]
[Basic Damage: +1]
One. Single. Point of damage. Against 550 HP. This was less a fight and more an aggressive form of tickling. The goblin barely even reacted to my strikes, its glowing red eyes focused on the bigger threat that was Rhea's mace. It seemed to regard me as a particularly annoying insect, occasionally swatting in my direction but primarily trying to maneuver for a proper counter-attack against Rhea.
I backpedaled frantically as the goblin swiped a massive hand, the claws missing my face by inches. This was suicide. We were outmatched, outgunned, and fighting in a room barely bigger than my closet.
Taking a desperate step back, I mentally pulled up my status screen, the glowing blue text hovering in my vision like a lifeline:
Character Panel: Kyle (Lv. 4)
HP: 107/190(Down from the fight)
MP: 190/190
SP (Stamina): 140/190 (Drained from frantic dodging)
Stats:
* STR: 9
* VIT: 9
* DEX: 12 (+1 from title)
* INT: 9
* WIS: 8
* LUK: 10
* Unassigned Stat Points: 17
* Unassigned Skill Points: 17
Seventeen glorious, life-saving points. Now, what in the name of all that is logical could I possibly do with them in the next five seconds to not get squashed like a bug?
My eyes darted back to the unassigned stat points. Seventeen of them. Logic screamed at me to boost Strength or Vitality, anything that would give us a more immediate edge in this brutal fight. But logic had gotten me into this mess in the first place, hadn't it? Logic had me facing a Level 31 mutated goblin with a glorified letter opener.
"The most logical thing," I muttered to myself, a crazy grin spreading across my face. "Is to embrace the chaos."
With a mental command, I slammed all seventeen points into Luck.
[STAT ALLOCATION: LUK +17]
My Luck stat jumped from a measly 10 to a ridiculous 27. No immediate change. No sudden surge of power. I still felt like a Level 4 weakling armed with a rusty toothpick.
"Come on," I whispered, staring at the newly inflated Luck stat. "I'm just Level 4. Seventeen extra points in Strength? Maybe I'd do... what? Five more damage? Seventeen in Vitality? Maybe I'd last another ten seconds? But Luck…"
It was true. My Luck hadn't increased with my level-ups. Every other stat had nudged up by one each time I gained a level, but Luck had stubbornly stayed at 9, then 10. It was an outlier.
"If no one else can level up Luck," I reasoned, my mind racing, "if everyone else is stuck in the single digits, maybe low teens at best… what happens when mine is almost triple that?"
It was a gamble, a Hail Mary pass in the final seconds of a very deadly game. But what did I have to lose? My dignity had already been trampled by an inflatable badger. My life was currently being threatened by a red monstrosity in a girls' bathroom. Might as well see if I could pull a rabbit (or maybe a conveniently placed banana peel) out of my metaphorical hat.
"Rhea!" I yelled, a manic edge to my voice. "Duck!"
Rhea, trusting my utterly insane tone (or perhaps just desperate), ducked just as the red goblin swung a massive fist at her head. Instead of connecting, the goblin's hand slammed into the already weakened plumbing behind the shattered sink.
WHOOSH!
A geyser of scalding hot water erupted from the broken pipe, directly into the goblin's face. It roared in pain and surprise, its glowing red eyes momentarily blinded.
That wasn't all. The sudden pressure change in the pipes caused the cracked toilet behind it to explode in a shower of porcelain shards and… well, other unpleasant bathroom detritus. Several large pieces of sharp ceramic ricocheted wildly, and by some impossible chance (thanks, Luck!), one of them struck the goblin squarely in its already tenderized head.
The Level 31 mutated red goblin roared, a sound more of confused agony than defeat. It stumbled backward, its glowing red eyes glazed over, and then its massive form crashed to the tiled floor with a deafening thump. It wasn't dead, but it was definitely dazed.
"Rhea!" I yelled, seizing the opportunity. "Now!"
Adrenaline surged through both of us. Rhea, with a primal yell, swung her massive mace with all her might. The high ceiling of the bathroom (oddly high for a middle school) allowed for a full, devastating swing. The spiked head connected with another sickening CRACK against the goblin's skull.
I followed up immediately, thrusting my rusted sword into the same spot, aiming to exploit the opening. The combined assault, the sheer force of Rhea's mace and my surprisingly well-placed (if weak) stab, finally did the trick. The goblin twitched, its red eyes flickered, and then went still.
Silence descended, thick and heavy, broken only by the dripping of water from the shattered pipes and our ragged breathing. We stood there, covered in grime and who-knows-what, the faint smell of ozone and something vaguely demonic lingering in the air.
We had done it. We had somehow, impossibly, defeated a Level 31 mutated red goblin in a middle school bathroom.
Just as the adrenaline started to recede, replaced by the shaky realization that we were still alive and surprisingly not in multiple pieces, my vision went full-on digital disco.
Ding! [You have leveled up!]
Ding! [You have leveled up!]
Ding! [You have leveled up!]
Ding! [You have leveled up!]
Ding! [You have leveled up!]
Ding! [You have leveled up!]
(Congratulations, Kyle! You have finally clawed your way out of single-digit misery! Victory tastes faintly of… slightly demonic bathroom grime, wouldn't you agree? Perhaps now you can afford a less embarrassing weapon? Just a suggestion.)
Wait, six levels? Did we just fight Cthulhu's slightly less tentacled cousin?
Six glorious, improbable level-ups. I blinked, the blue text almost blinding. Level 10. I was practically a seasoned adventurer now! (Relatively speaking. In the grand scheme of things, I was probably still goblin fodder.)
Rhea was staring at the fallen red monstrosity, her chest heaving, her face a mask of exhausted disbelief. She didn't have the glowing notifications, the stat boosts. She just looked… like someone who had survived something truly terrifying.
Maybe that was the real level up. Surviving. Together. Even if I had a feeling our "normal" middle school life was about to get a whole lot more… interesting.
...
Character Panel: Kyle (Lv. 10)
HP: 207/250(Down from the fight)
MP: 250/250
SP (Stamina): 117/250 (Drained from frantic dodging)
Stats:
* STR: 15
* VIT: 15
* DEX: 18 (+1 from title)
* INT: 15
* WIS: 14
* LUK: 27
* Unassigned Stat Points: 30
* Unassigned Skill Points: 47
Att: 15 ( +5 weapon)( 20 )
Def: 15