The two doors we can currently proceed through are identical in every conceivable way. I have Sam standing at one and Meri at the other so that I can use Taskmaster’s camera to compare them both at the same time. Given how thoroughly my eyes can inspect things, it’s fair to say I would have detected if one had any perceivable distances.

“I’m thinkin’ South,” Sam says as she stares at her door. “Call it a hunch.”

“Might as well,” I scratch my beard while thinking aloud. “We’re going to need to go through both doors, anyway. I don’t want us to miss a single room on account of potential treasure chests. Any objections to following Sam through her door first, anyone?”

There are no words of protest from the rest of the party, even after giving them a moment to speak their minds.

“Alright, proceed.”

I must admit. Even though I’m still somewhat shaken up over the pimp’s taunting, I’m starting to enjoy the use of Taskmaster. I know Luxy said that it was initially a blessing given to Kings during war to manage their armies and heroes, but after the fight against the Stone Golem, I really do feel like a strategic general or a chief tactician.

Every battle is like an intricate game of chess... the only difference is I can’t allow myself to sacrifice a single pawn, or I’ll lose the game. It’s perfect- this power fits me like a tailor-made glove. I’ll make the most of it, leading my adventurers on this quest to rescue the abducted Beastgirls no matter what dangers lie in wait within the Pimpfort’s depths.

Sam punches the center door, which presses a switch inside it making it rise upward into the doorframe above. The three adventures enter the next chamber, leaving the extravagant reception room and the defeated Golem in their wake. Each girl naturally has their weapons primed and ready to go just in case the next room has monsters or the pimp’s hooker army lying in wait.

Everyone is relieved to discover that this precaution wasn’t necessary. Not for this room, at least.

The chamber they find themselves in now is rectangular and about half as large as the one before. The ceiling is much lower as well- Sam won’t be able to use overhead attacks in the event of combat. I’m not too worried about that. Not only are her fists adequately protected by her gauntlets in case she needs to punch, but she can still swing her sword from side to side if she has to. I imagine I’ll probably need to convince her to find a backup weapon for small chambers in the near future.

It’s not like the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. It’s a problem many a Great Blader has to face eventually. She’s been doing outdoor quests only, though, and this was never a problem until now.

Regardless, the room itself is somewhat quaint yet suspicious. For one, there’s no door other than the one the party came in through. Decorations are sparse, the golden room empty except for a luxurious purple rug strewn across the floor and for four pedestals in the corners of the room. Atop three of the pedestals is a silver vase containing handsome red roses, though the pedestal in the southeast corner is empty.

‘Puzzle room?’ Zutiria asks while looking around the place.

“Puzzle room,” I confirm.

“Not much of a puzzle, nyaa,” Snowball says, one of her claws touching the side of her chin as she tilts her head. “You see it, right, Myaster?”

“Of course. It’s hardly what I’d consider a brain-teaser.

“See what?” Peri leans over my shoulder to get a better look at the screens. Much to my relief, she still seems totally in control of her arousal, and this closeness doesn’t trigger her desire.

“Careful, Peri...” Cherry grabs her friend by the collar and pulls her back to her stool, regardless. Better safe than sorry.

‘I understand the solution as well, although I’m sure this fact surprises no one.’ The Mage offers.

“Yeah, yeah, Zuzu. You’re a genius, and I’m a dummy, I get that. If the puzzle’s so easy, then why don’t you just solve it?”

“Can I do it?” Meri asks as she smiles softly, “I think I know the answer...”

“Wait, seriously? You too?!” Sam looks at the Shield Maiden as if she were just betrayed, upset to be the only one who didn’t solve the puzzle instantly.

“S-Sorry, Sam... you’ll see.”

“Go ahead, Meri.”

The brunette runs back to the other room, her bulky suit of armor clanking around like a loose collection of pots and pans as she does so. Not even a minute later, she returns carrying one of the silver rose vases from the nearest pedestal. Meri then places it right down on top of the only pedestal in the current room that doesn’t have one. Right afterward, the room begins to tremble in place for a split second as if in confirmation.

The golden southern wall begins opening up, revealing to the party a hidden pathway that beckons them forth.

“Oh, THAT? Pft. I knew that.” Sam rolls her eyes as she attempts to bullshit us, “I thought you were all talking about something else...”

‘Sammy, there’s no shame in accepting your lot in life. You’re a charming, special girl, and we all love you very much. No one thinks any less of you for being unable to solve the simplest of dungeon puzzles.’ Zutiria sarcastically pats the grumbling Princess on the back, Meri giving Sam an awkward smile as an apology.

“I thought that was the answer, nyaa!” Peri happily bounces in her seat, and as soon as Sam hears this, her face turns white.

“The fucking horny cat is smarter than me?!”

“Sam, stop being racist.” I shrug, an amused smile cropping up across my face. “Peri being Catfolk has little to do with her level of intelligence.”

“Nyaa?” Peri, not sure what I meant, tilts her head.

“GAH. I-I TOLD YOU, I’M NOT-”

“Yes, yes, into the secret tunnel with you already.” I teasingly hurry her, enjoying the sight of her red face and pouty cheeks. Out of the corner of my eye, I witness Snow holding back a giggle, and I shoot her a sly grin while saying, “You’ll have to forgive her. It runs in her family.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m well aware of Mistress Samantha’s lineage, Myaster.” The white-haired kitten narrows her eyes, giving her an air of mystery as she smiles. Snow speaks softly so that Sam doesn’t end up hearing her words, but I’m taken aback by her comment.

I know better than to ask. Snow will likely tell me it’s not the right time. Instead, I focus on the screens to watch the party enter the secret passage unlocked by solving the puzzle.

The path is concise, only about twenty feet long. It slants to the southwest, then a very short, straight west corridor follows. It becomes apparent several feet down the passageway that something’s off about this. The walls, floor, and ceiling lose their golden sheen and seamlessly transform into an unremarkable gray, dreary stone.

...No, transform isn’t quite the right word for it. It’s more like the path was stone in the first place, and the gold was painted over it in a futile attempt to hide what lay beneath. Is the rest of the Pimpfort secretly stone as well, or is there some special meaning here that no one is privy to? How queer.

At the end of this secret tunnel sits a dead end with a single feature sticking out like a sore thumb. A large oil painting of Sir Pimpington himself is hung on the wall, held in place by a beautiful frame of gold and beset with many vibrant jewels.

In the painting, the pimp sits upon a throne carried by hundreds of women from just as many races. These women all flock towards Sir Pimpington like rabid puppies, desperate to be the one closest to him. The throne, the girls’, and the elegant, palace-like backdrop are vibrant and rendered in beautiful, striking colors.

...Yet the man himself is drab, looking almost as if he were made of stone. His lowered pimp hat obscures his face in shadows, all but for a forlorn frown that depicts him as beaten. Broken. In his right hand, he holds a dead, thoroughly wilted rose so tight that blood streams out from the gaps in his fist.

“What in the name of fuck,” Sam raises an eyebrow, making the best observation as she’s liable to make.

“I’m going to be real with you, Sam. I’ve got no fucking idea what’s up with that painting.” I squint my eyes, trying to make heads or tails of this brooding artwork that defies everything I’ve come to expect from the cold-hearted pimp.

‘The dungeon must have made this. I can’t imagine that the pimp would pay someone to paint him in such an introspective, conflicted way. For one, none of the girls are having sex with him.’

“A very valid point, nyaa.” Snow studies it just as closely, but I can tell from the look on her face that she’s just as lost as the rest of us.

Meri leans forward, touching the painting with the tips of her fingers almost mournfully. “This... is so weird. It’s k-kind of beautiful, in a way. I-I wouldn’t hang it on my wall, but... this means something. It has to.”

“So if the dungeon made this, then this has somethin’ to do with his soul or some shit? I’m still not really clear on how that works.” Sam asks.

“Perhaps it’s how he views himself,” I say, as odd as that sounds.

“That’s, uh... a weird thought, Boss. This thing is like ‘Manpain: The Painting’, and he’s... not like that at all. Y’know?”

‘Everyone wears a mask to protect themselves from the world to some extent, Sammy. Some people are just better at making you think that they don’t.’ Zutiria says with a troubled, distant look on her face.

“Right. So he’s just a tortured soul pimping through the pain.” The Princess snorts, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, wait. H-Hang on a sec...” Meri tilts her head before placing her fingertip back on the painting. “Master, do you mind if I-”

“Be my guest.” The maids, Sam, Zutiria, and I all watch as Meri begins scratching at the oil painting’s canvas, especially when a chunk of paint starts to chip off, falling to the floor below. She keeps going and going, every flake revealing more of the secret buried beneath the outer layer.

“Huh,” I say aloud as the final chip falls, giving the girls and me a full view of the underpainting. That certainly explains a few things.