The Gift of Loot Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Octopus's Garden

Read chapter 5 of The Gift of Loot by Jack_Golightly on NovelPedia.

Thomas looked down at his receipt one more time and snorted with disgust. $49.99 before tax for a pair of pants from Ross. Ross . He thought the president said the price of all goods and services would be frozen "for the duration." Apparently, that didn't extend to stores that were one step above thrift. Well, whatever. A quarter of his money from the mana crystals was already gone, but at least he wasn't walking around in shredded pants. And there was more dungeon loot to look forward to. The octopus dungeon was located between one of the big casinos on the Nevada side, on the strip of land between the casinos and the lakeside beach. It was a flattish spot full of sandy soil and scrubby pine trees. Walking up to it, Thomas saw a line of wannabe divers already waiting to get in. A few had thought ahead and brought lawn chairs. A group of teenagers sat in a loose circle with phones out, not speaking to each other. Thomas joined the back of the line behind a woman carrying what looked like a halberd. She had ripped the sleeves off her shirt, and the muscles on her arms rivaled his own. She had no interest in speaking to him, every line of her body silently yelling ' Go away .' With muscles like that, he wasn't about to press his luck. The long line wasn't the only difference from the demon chicken dungeon. This one was guarded by a lot more National Guard. In fact, it looked like they had set up a tent at the exit and were hustling people through it as they came out. Hopefully, they're not shaking them down for their loot , Thomas thought. The sounds of raised voices and angry shouts came from the front of the line. Thomas, along with everyone else, craned to see. An older man stood at the front, and... wow. He liked guns. There were at least four that Thomas could count, sitting in holsters on both hips and both thighs. Then the man turned, and Thomas revised his count up to six as he spied two rifles slung across his back. Gun guy also had a pistol strapped to his ankle. All those were just the visible guns. The man wore a bulky jacket, and Thomas suspected there were even more underneath. He had come loaded for bear... or at least octopus. Too bad that wouldn't do him any good in the dungeon. "I've done my extensive research," the man said, jabbing a finger at the chest of the nearest soldier who stood between him and the dungeon entrance. "Sir—" "It is my constitutional right to bear these arms, and that means into this goddamn dungeon." "The dungeon," the soldier said carefully, "does not care about the U.S. Constitution." "Well, it should . It's on U.S. land, isn't it?" Another soldier spoke up. He seemed to be about the man's age and had no room for nonsense. "Here's the reality," he said, clipped and professional. "Gunpowder does not combust inside the dungeons. No, I don't know why. But the fact is, your firearms are inert the moment you cross out of the safe room." He paused. "I don't make the rules. Believe me, if I did, things would be run a lot differently." "I'll figure it out once I'm inside," the gun guy insisted. "And you can't stop me." The nearby digital clock clicked over to a fresh ten minutes. The soldiers exchanged a look. "Let him through," called a voice from beyond the tent flap, not bothering to hide his amusement. "Maybe he can use those guns as bludgeoning weapons." A ripple of laughter moved through the nearest section of the line. The gun-happy man reddened but didn't look at them. Meanwhile, the senior soldier's face did something complicated before settling back into professional neutrality. He stepped aside, as did the rest of his guard. The gun man gave a triumphant smirk, as if he'd won something, and stepped into the dungeon's entrance. This one was a roiling blue and white. The line moved forward, but something struck Thomas immediately. The National Guardsmen weren't just cataloging who went in, who didn't come out, and what loot people wanted to declare. They were making sure no one follow