Returning back to the room with all the portraits, the girls settle down to have a discussion. They stop right in front of the large, intimidating boss door. Each adventurer takes a glance toward it, anxiety brewing within.

The threat looming over their head is real and closer than ever before. It’s no longer just waiting off at the end of the dungeon. They’re here, and the time is now.

“Girls,” As I start, each of the three... well... two of them, make a determined expression. Sam is still just sort of vacantly smiling And Zutiria is still her usual brand of blank, so... at least Meri looks very determined and passionate.

“You’ve done a hell of a job so far. I know in retrospect that some parts of this dungeon were more comical than we expected. But for every room that ended up a joke, you all overcame a real, legitimate threat that could have killed you- and you did it without batting an eye. I want you to know more than anything else before I send you off into that next room that I’m incredibly proud of each and every one of you.”

Sam starts laughing, her cheeks flushing even in her goofy state. “Aw, c’mon, Daddy! It’s all cause we got you to boss us around like some sort of, uh, boss-man!”

“T-That’s right, Master! We wouldn’t have made it this far if you weren’t helping us!” Meri pumps her fists up, trying to show me how serious she is.

‘Indeed. I’m terrible at thinking for myself unless there’s a big, strong man telling me what to do.’ Zutiria says with the best sarcastic smile her doll-like face is capable of.

The kitties all have themselves a laugh at that, especially Snow. She seems to think it’s hysterical, and I have to give the drugged-up, stressed-out maid a minute to catch her breath. “It’s funny because she’s so much stronger than you,” Snow snorts. “Weak, little, baby man...!”

...Right.

“Girls, just let me compliment you, alright? You can all suck my dick when you get home. There’s no need to lay it on me so thick when I’m trying to be serious.” Their love makes my heart race, and it becomes harder to fight back the butterflies in my stomach. I’m about to send them into the most dangerous room in the entire dungeon.

“Sam... when we met, you couldn’t lift your sword without fucking up, yet now you’re halfway decent with the potential to become even greater,” Sam smiles vapidly.

“Zutiria... you went from years of self-enforced silence to a veritable spell-slinger.” Zutiria raises her hand and begins twiddling with her sweaty, lavender-colored hair. A slight blush forms on the Mage’s face as she looks down at the floor.

“And Meri... you’ve gone from being the most timid little thing I’ve ever seen into a fierce shield which stands firm.” Meri, too, finds herself overwhelmed by my praise and hides her increasing blush behind her tower shield.

“...So when I say this next part of my speech, please, PLEASE don’t take it as me implying I don’t believe in you.” As I knew they would, everyone’s becomes much more concerned upon hearing my transitional statement.

To my left, Snow hangs her head. She’s a brilliant woman, even while high on catnip. She knows what I’m about to say. Behind me, Peri and Cherry react similarly.

“If I give the order, I want you to use a Returner and come home the exact second I tell you to- no questions asked.”

Sam’s mouth drops open wide, and she speaks up, “But the kitties! And the puppies! And the bunnies! And the-”

“You’re more important to me than them.”

Zutiria wastes no time and nods her head. ‘Of course, Sir. It’s only logical.’

“I... I don’t know if I can just...” Meri struggles with her duty as a Shield Maiden. “They need our help, Master!”

‘We’re no good to them dead, Meri. A tactical retreat just means we can attempt to help again in the future.’ Zutiria reaches up to stroke Meri’s hair, somewhat easing her conflicted mind.

Eventually, Meri nods her head, too.

For the slightest moment, I almost think I see Sam’s face contorted in surprise. But if it did happen, it returns to being a conflicted smile short after. “But... Pretty kitty and Cherry and Peri will be so sad!”

Snow steps up to my defense. “Mistress Samantha, I’m grateful for everything that the four of you have done, but I’m not expecting you all to die on our behalf, nyaa. Just promise the Myaster you’ll do as he says. Beastfolk are strong. Even if things go wrong and you have to pull out of the Pimpfort, we’ll manage... somehow. I promise.” Apparently, being a bit high doesn’t impair Snow’s rationale, and the experienced maid can still summon all of her grace when speaking if she feels the need.

“But...” Again, Sam appears troubled.

“Please, Mistress. You gotta do what Myaster says!” Peri pleads to her, biting her lip out of worry.

“Snow’s right, as always! Sam, don’t be stupid, nyaa!” Cherry stands up, putting her hands on her hips. “You three are just as an important part of our forever home as the Myaster is!”

Pushing down her reluctance, the addled Princess closes her eyes, and her dopey smile returns. “Ok! If Daddy says it, then I have to do it!”

‘If only you were this easy to control all of the time, Sammy.’ Zutiria pats the back of Sam’s armor teasingly.

“Wha?” Sam tilts her head, not getting it.

“It’s not important,” I sigh. “Are we all in agreement, then?”

“Guess so!” Sam gives me a thumbs up.

“If... if I have to...” Meri frowns.

‘I’ll force them home myself if need be, Sir. If someone has to play the bad bitch, it might as well be me.’ The little Mage shrugs. ‘I doubt even you’d be able to argue with me throwing a Returner at you, Meri, if it meant saving your life.’

The Shield Maiden tilts her head, making the floppy tips of her hair bow bounce to the side. “Y-Yeah, I guess you have a good point...” She ends up nodding.

“Good. According to Taskmaster, you’re all at near flawless health, stamina, and mana. Don’t count on a chance to use potions in this battle unless we can manipulate the situation to give you a chance.”

“Anything else, Master?” Meri asks while taking a sip from her canteen.

I start to wrack my brain for any other pieces of advice that come to mind before I send them into the boss room. My thoughts spiral into negativity soon after. “Well, I have reason to believe that Pimpington’s class as an adventurer might have been ‘Fencer’. We’ll know shortly on into the battle whether this guess is correct or not, but... if it IS correct-”

“It won’t be good news, will it?” Cherry frowns, clasping my knee from below.

“No. It will be almost the exact opposite circumstances compared to fighting the Whiplashers. You all had an excellent match-up against that class, but... Sam, Meri, if I’m right, then your armor will mean absolutely nothing to his sword.”

‘Of course, it wouldn’t be easy. Why would it?’ The little Mage shrugs her shoulders with indifference. ‘Then again, perhaps if we’re lucky, then the ultimate punchline of this dungeon is that the boss will be defeated in one blow.’

“Don’t count on it- especially if he’s a Fencer.”

“Then let’s just hope you aren’t right, Myaster!” Peri tries to keep things optimistic, but it fails to relieve anyone. Without sounding like a pretentious know-it-all, I’m not often wrong in my analysis.

“Hang on, if he can tear through armor t-then what about my shield?” Meri’s anxiety begins to rise, and I have to nip that in the bud.

“You know as well as I do that your shield is special. I won’t pretend like I’m an expert on how they’re made, but for whatever reason, Shield Maiden shields are known for being virtually indestructible. You’ll be able to do your job as usual.”

The anxious brunette lets out a long sigh of relief. “Oh, good... I-I don’t know what I’d do if it got damaged...”

I don’t think there’s much else I can say past this point that hasn’t already been said. “Has everyone had a drink from their canteens? Is anyone hungry? Now is the last chance you’ll have, so-”

“Daddy, where can I pee?” Sam asks vapidly, her loopy lack of conversational filter rearing its head once more.

I just sort of stare at her screen in silence before forcing myself to say, “...Well, a lot of adventurers wear expensive, enchanted-”

‘No matter how rich the Guild gets, Sir, I will never wear magic adventuring diapers. It is perhaps one of the few things I refuse to do, even for you.’ Zutiria blushes, making a powerfully defiant expression uncharacteristic of her typical coldness.

Snow unsuccessfully holds back a laugh that transforms into a snort on its way out.

“Just go back in the other room and piss on the floor, for fuck’s sake,” I groan and shake my head.

“KAY!” Sam eagerly runs off, and I cut off her camera.

“Anyone else?”

Meri shakes her head, blushing, as does Zutiria.

Not long after, Sam comes back from the statue room with a satisfied grin spreading ear to ear. “Daddy! Guess what?! I’m so lucky. Everyone will just think someone spilled water cause the floors are already gold!”

“Gods damn it, just put the fucking keys in the pimp door!” Losing a bit of my patience and blushing, I snap at Her Highness. Six girls collectively laugh at me as I sigh. A small smile creeps onto my face, but I push it down to keep objective.

Sam takes one key and plunges it onto the display of Sir Pimpington while on the other side of the door, Meri inserts the second key into the exposed heart of Sir Chasteworthe. The keys are turned, and a glowing pink light shines from within the heart of each lock. The ornate doors give way and open wide, even without anyone pulling them ajar.

The entrance to the boss chamber creaks ominously, swinging apart and revealing the nerve-wracking display of the party’s first-ever boss room fully for all to see.

This final stretch of the Pimpfort is a long but wide-open hallway with a path of golden bricks leading down the middle of the room. The ceiling is high, very high, and all that can be seen aside from numerous magic spotlights is darkness. On each of the room’s walls is, as I’ve come to expect, a rose garden.

Unlike the rose gardens we’ve seen before, this room is not made of stone. Four tall stone statues rise from within each rose garden, for a total of eight.

For the first two statues on either side, they take the shape of generic women wearing Pimpington’s preferred uniform, kneeling as if before a King. If these four are real women, we didn’t encounter them in the dungeon, and I don’t remember seeing them in the Pet Shop.

I think they just represent the many women under his thrall.

The next set of statues are Lemira and Rhaelyn, bowing but with their heads raised to set them apart from the ordinary grunts.

Lastly, the largest pair out of all is a towering duo.

On the left stands the Pimp as we know him, decked out in his outrageous wardrobe and accouterments. He holds his cane in his left hand, and with his right, he extends it in a handshake to the figure on the opposite row. His hand is clutched tightly by the tall, snappily dressed, faceless gentleman who introduced himself to Meri and myself as the Duke of Dewhurst.

Pimpington smiles, and while the spindly Duke cannot emote, I’d say he looks pleased with himself.

At the end of the shining hall is a raised platform of stairs leading to a balcony with a locked door behind it, just like the dungeon’s first room.

Fancy velvet curtains hang down both sides of the exit, drawing all eyes to the room’s centerpiece. Atop the balcony and in front of the back door sits an enormous, golden throne with plush red seating and a bevy of encrusted jewels lining every edge.

Sitting on the resplendent throne with his legs crossed, his sword across his lap, and a bored look on his face is Sir Pimpington.

Since we last saw him four or five hours ago, he’s had a minor change in attire. The villain’s armor is no longer gold. Instead, it’s a wondrous, shiny, platinum-like metal with gratuitous laden diamonds.

The pimp yawns as he twirls his oily, curled mustache. Wiping the tiredness from his eyes while looking down at the adventuring party, he says, “Well... at least they gave a pimp a mothafuckin’ chair this time, ya feel me?”