As Brett stumbled into the dungeon, he felt the same feeling of being dipped into perfectly room-temperature water. This time though, he kept his footing and only staggered a step despite the sudden change in location. Still, as he entered the dungeon, the welcome notification arrived.

Welcome to The Green Horde, a level two dungeon. Objective: survive as long as possible.

He froze as he read the objective, which did not sound promising at all. Looking around, he searched for a way to get out and retreat. But he was in a cave not too unlike the grub dungeon, with light coming from all directions with no discernable source. Except this was a soft yellow light instead of red. Also the tunnels were much wider, maybe fifteen feet across.

A timer appeared in his vision, but this time it started at zero and counted up. He groaned in resignation as he realized that he was probably going to die here. That wasn’t exactly what he wanted, not today, but he had no choice but to trust that Alan and Ravenous wouldn’t actively try to get him killed.

Readjusting his grip on his dagger, he started to walk forward. He wasn't in a rush, as the challenge said nothing about killing monsters. It was just about survival. However, that wouldn't accomplish his main objective. I can't forget that I'm not here for the loot but to show the system it needs to give me a kickass class, Brett reminded himself.

As he walked forward, he scanned his surroundings carefully. There might actually be an exit this time.If so, he needed to find it and then leave as late as possible. He didn't want to engage in some heroic struggle valiantly killing monsters and then fucking die when he could have just left the dungeon. He would just feel stupid if he did that. 

Just around the first bend, the path started branching. It was already much more complicated than the level one dungeon's snaking tube. Taking the dagger's pommel, he left a mark on the entrance to the left tunnel and headed down it. About 20 feet in,  the sounds of scrambling and heavy breathing echoed down the pathway.

The screech of nails scraping on rock echoed around the cave, and Brett slowed down to move as quietly as he could. A little further in, the smell hit him. It was like horse dung, but even that smelled clean compared to this. No, this smelled like the underpass of a big city. Brett's eyes watered as he tried to avoid coughing; pulling his shirt over his nose helped a little, but it kept one hand occupied, and that wasn't a long-term solution.

He started to back away to go find something less smelly to fight when the noises stopped. Some squealing replaced the scraping noises, then sniffing. It took all he had not to gag at the thought of intentionally inhaling the air here. Brett had no idea how the creature smelled anything over the ambient odor. But still, the noises started getting closer.

Backing up slowly, he watched the end of the tunnel. A green goblin no taller than his stomach stalked around the corner sniffing intently. It was unarmed and unclothed, save for a weird diaperlike garment around its ankles. Well, unfortunately now he knew what the smell was.

Upon seeing Brett, the goblin shrieked in rage, tried to charge, and immediately tripped on its face. Brett was so caught off guard that he just stood there and watched. Before he could come to his senses and dispatch the vulnerable creature, it had already kicked free of its restraints. It scrambled at him on all fours, moving much faster than he expected. 

It closed at the speed of a running wolf, even if it looked more like an overgrown Chihuahua with its bald green head and funky-looking ears. Just like he would with a rabid raccoon, Brett instinctively kicked out his steel-toed boot, catching it in the chin and sending its head whipping back. It may have broken the creature's neck, but he didn't wait to find out. He fell to his knees, driving the dagger through its skull. 

The blade tip burst through the skull like a needle through a balloon, and he had to tug hard to pull it back out. Its bones must have been nearly hollow, like those of a bird. If he had tried that same trick on a buck, he might have broken the knife.

Wiping the knife clean on the goblin's body, he considered what was going on. Judging by the latrine at the end of this hallway, these wouldn't just be dungeon-simulated monsters. Well, maybe they would be, but they were doing more than just attacking. So what am I supposed to do? Brett mused.

He crept back up the tunnel away from the smell. If he was going to survive, the best thing would be not to draw attention to himself. Still, he already decided it was a bad idea to be too passive and miss out on potential classes. Besides, what if he was able to just hide away for weeks? He didn't want that because then Alan and Ravenous would be gone. There’s also the issue of food, if I manage to survive for that long.

No, he needed to look for an exit; if there wasn't one, then for enemies to fight. This time at the intersection, he scratched through his previous mark to note that he had explored this tunnel and there were no loops. Heading down the other tunnel, he did his best to listen carefully and tried to pay attention to his sense of smell. It wasn't something he was used to, but it might legitimately help him if all these goblins stank.

As he drew closer to the end of the tunnel, he could, in fact, smell the stinky little bastards well before he could hear them. The smell was still horrendous but not nearly as bad as the other tunnel. If he had to guess, he would say that they kept their waste outside of whatever passed for a home here. 

Reaching the end of the tunnel, he found two guards equipped with spears and oversized helmets slumped against the wall, snoring. One of them had pissed themselves in its sleep, explaining the smell. Behind them was a closed wooden door, but the board used to bar the door was visible in the massive gap between the door and the frame. 

Looking at the two sleeping monsters, Brett plotted his attack. He continued forward as quietly as possible to get within striking distance before they woke up. Slowly stretching a hand near each of their necks, he held his breath for half a second before he struck. His left hand sank the dagger into the first guard's neck while his right hand grasped the throat of the second one. 

Its neck was small enough that his fingers could wrap all the way around, and he squeezed like he was trying to juice an orange. This is kinda like fightin a goose. Brett thought as the little guy struggled, clawed, and tried to bite him while he strangled it. He was hoping to simply crush its neck, but sadly he wasn't that strong yet.

He flicked the knife out of the other guard and stabbed it into the chest of the struggling goblin. A couple of seconds later, it sagged in his grasp. Opening his fingers, he let the corpse drop to the ground. Brett flashed with a notification.

Would you like to be a Goblin Killer?