The World's First Dungeon Vs Zane

Bell was on her fourth serving of bacon and eggs, enjoying every mouthful like she hadn't eaten in years.

After watching Bell with a stunned look for a while, Tarni turned to Zane and said, "From how much we ate the other day, and watching Bell now, I reckon we're going to need a lot more food. If I had to guess, I'd say every time we level up, we'll need to eat about five times more than normal for the next three or four meals."

Bell nodded enthusiastically as she stuffed more bacon into her mouth.
Zane finished his coffee with a big gulp, then replied,
"Yeah, I think you're right. Here's hoping it doesn't keep increasing as our levels go up."

After Bell finally finished eating, and while Kai was doing the dishes, Zane smiled and asked,
"Honey, how do you feel?"

Bell let out a contented sigh.
"I feel so much better than I have in years."

"Much Bettera," Tarni corrected her with a grin.

Zane just chuckled into his hand as Bell stared at Tarni.
"Tarn, you know that's not a real word, right?" she asked.

"Nope, you're wrong. This crazy System makes it a new world, and new worlds need new words. So I'm afraid it's stuck now. Also, if you keep eating like that, I'm pretty sure you're gonna become OVERCUCUMBERED."

"Wait, what? Wait?" Bell spluttered, trying to process what he'd just said.

"From now on, overencumbered is out. Overcucumbered is in! It just rolls off the tongue better!"

Before Bell could even begin to argue how completely stupid that was, the sound of Zane's ute rumbled up the driveway.

"Lily!" Bell gasped, jumping to her feet and racing toward the front door, ready to climb down the ladder to the ground.

Lily had been up since dawn. She couldn't sleep.
The talk with James hadn't gone as well as she'd hoped.
He loved her — she knew that — but it had taken him a lot longer to understand that her dad was going through a lot with her mum's cancer. His wife.
And when he and his best mate, the one Lily called Uncle Tarn, had tried to help, well… obviously, things had gotten a bit out of control.
That blood on the ground? It could've been from a possum or something else they couldn't get out of the house.
And with her mum coming home to die, they had probably just gotten a bit over-eager trying to clean things up.
At least, that was what she told herself.
She had tried to ring her mum, her dad, even Kai, a few times last night, but it always went straight to message bank.
She needed to get there before the hospital people arrived to set up the drip and everything for her mum.

It had taken a bit of convincing to get James to come back with her again this morning.
So as she drove her dad's Ute down the long driveway, she was already frustrated, worried, and angry.

She pulled up out the front of the house instead of parking underneath, where the stairs usually were — because the stairs were gone.
In their place was a steel ladder.
And there was a strange woman climbing down it.

Lily frowned.
Had the hospital people beaten her here?
Where was their car?

The strange woman jumped the last few steps and turned to face her.
Lily's heart stopped.

It was her mother — practically running toward her.

Lily's thoughts were a scrambled mess.
How? Why? What?

Her mum reached the ute in seconds, throwing the driver's door open and leaning in to pull Lily out.
She only got halfway — the seatbelt caught her.
Without missing a beat, her mum just reached in and pressed the button, just like she had when Lily was a little girl.

The second Lily's feet touched the ground, her mum wrapped her up in a powerful hug.
Tears rolled down both their cheeks.

Lily was too confused to even think straight.
She had left her mum only yesterday, frail, near death.
She had worried she might have died while she was gone.

Now she was here, holding her so tightly it was like she'd never been sick at all.

Lily clung to her mum, not wanting to let go, still trying to convince herself this was real.
Bell — her mother — smelled like bacon and campfire smoke.
Her hug was strong, solid, not the frail, trembling thing Lily had braced herself for.
Bell finally pulled back just enough to frame Lily's face in her hands, smiling widely through her tears.

"You're so beautiful, Lil," Bell said, voice thick with emotion.

Lily could only nod, still too stunned to speak.

Heavy boots crunched on the gravel behind them.
Zane reached them first, walking fast but steady, his face tight with emotion he was clearly trying to hold in check.
Without a word, he pulled them both into a giant hug, wrapping his arms around his wife and daughter like he never wanted to let go.

James hovered awkwardly by the ute, wide-eyed and pale.
Tarni and Kai came down the ladder after a moment — Tarni with a smirk, Kai looking uncertain.

Kai jogged up first, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Mum's, uh... doing a lot better than yesterday," he said, voice cracking halfway through.

Bell laughed — a rich, healthy sound — and reached out one arm to haul Kai into the hug too.
He yelped, then laughed, and hugged her back.

James stepped closer, brow furrowed in deep confusion.
He looked from Bell to Zane to Kai to Tarni — and then back at Bell, as if trying to piece together what impossible thing he was seeing.

"How...?" James finally croaked. "How is this even possible?"

Bell turned her head, resting her cheek against Lily's hair.
She gave James a little wink over her daughter's shoulder.

"It's a long story," she said, her voice playful and light — the first time in years she'd sounded like herself.
"And it's about to get a lot weirder."

James opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Tarni walked past him, slapping a hand on his shoulder as he went.
"Mate, if you think this is strange, just you wait."

Zane chuckled softly.
"We'll explain everything. But first —" he gave Lily another squeeze, "— welcome home, kiddo."

Lily wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt, still holding onto her mum like she might vanish if she let go.
Somewhere deep inside, past the confusion, past the shock, a tiny blossom of hope began to bloom.

Maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay after all.

James sat stiffly in the passenger seat of what Lily proudly called The Ute.
He still didn't understand why they had to drive this loud, smelly, rattling deathtrap when they had a perfectly good, clean, electric hire car back in town.
He was trying to be supportive — really, he was.
He had the ring in his pocket, after all.
He was planning to propose to Lily this weekend.
Sure, people said he should meet her dad first and ask permission, but James was a modern man. He didn't think that old-fashioned nonsense really mattered.
Still... he'd wanted it to be nice. Romantic. Memorable.

But all that had been flushed down the toilet when Lily got the call from the hospital.
Come home now, the doctor had said.
Say goodbye to your mother.

James had done his best to be there for Lily, to be supportive.
At the hospital, everything had seemed okay — well, as okay as it could be when saying goodbye to someone.
Except for her dad, Zane, and his crazy mate, Tarni — or Uncle Tarn, as Lily called him.
They were... odd.
Disheveled. Wired. Laughing too loud, moving too fast.
At first, James thought: grief does strange things to people.
Then he thought: maybe they're on something to cope.

That seemed a lot more likely once they arrived at the house.

Because the house...
It looked like a crime scene.
Bloodstains.
Furniture missing or broken.
The two men acting frantic — scrubbing, hauling things around.
If James hadn't been trying so hard to be polite for Lily's sake, he would have gotten back in the ute and driven away right then.

He was sure, positive they were on drugs.
Harder drugs than just a few sleeping pills or grief medication.
What was worse: Lily didn't seem to notice, or she didn't want to notice.
And Bell—poor, dying Bell—didn't seem concerned either.

When the first chance came, James made an excuse and drove back into town.

Stolen novel; please report.
He found the only hotel — a shabby little place attached to the local pub — and tried to forget the whole surreal experience.

At least the pub made him feel slightly better.
There, nailed to the front door, was a weathered poster:

TARNI WALKER
BANNED FROM ENTRY
On Orders of the Republican.

James stared at it for a long time.
The man in the photo — dreadlocks, weedy build, way-too-confident smirk—looked an awful lot like Lily's Uncle Tarn.
It didn't even matter if it was an old photo.
It just confirmed everything James had already suspected.

At least I'm not the only one who thinks he's trouble, he thought grimly.

Lily came to the hotel later that night.
They talked, well, she talked.
She was stubborn, convinced they had to go back to the house.
She wouldn't listen to reason.
In the end, James had given up and pretended to sleep, all while thinking dark thoughts:
Once Bell passes, we can go back to Perth. Back to real life. Away from all this madness.

Now here he was, less than twelve hours later.
Back at the house.
And Lily's mum, who should have been bedbound, skin-and-bones, barely clinging to life — was practically running around.
Laughing.
Crying.
Healthy.

James stood there, feeling like he was about to throw up.
It would take a lot of illegal drugs to get someone from death's door to sprinting down a ladder.

And then a worst thought hit him:
This is a big property. We're out in the middle of nowhere. A long way from anyone who might hear screams.

Maybe it's not just drugs. Maybe it's a whole operation out here — a drug farm, a cartel, something worse.
Maybe someone tried to take over while they were at the hospital — and that's whose blood they were cleaning up.

James' gaze flicked to the missing stairs.
The steel ladder they had to climb to get inside.
Why cut the stairs?
Is it so I can't escape?

His hand drifted to the hire car keys in his pocket — only to remember he didn't have the hire car anymore.
He had the ute.
Their ute.

He swallowed thickly, glancing at Lily — so happy, so relieved, wrapped in her mother's arms.
Was she in on it?
Had she brought him here on purpose?

The engagement ring burned like a stone in his pocket.

Zane was beaming.
Everything was finally coming together.

At first, this whole System thing had terrified him — monsters, stats, titles, the whole bloody lot — but now?
He and Tarni could wipe out the goblins without much trouble.
His wife was better, genuinely better.
Both his kids were here, safe.
Even Lily had brought a bloke with her — shy, a bit twitchy, but seemed nice enough.

Life was really looking up.
He just had to convince Lily — and her new fella — to kill a goblin each.
Get them into the System.
Make them stronger.
Keep them safe.

He was mentally rehearsing how to break the news gently as he walked back toward the Ute, where James was still standing stiffly by the door.

Before Zane could say anything, James took a sudden half-step back.
Eyes flicking around, James yanked out his phone, thumb tapping furiously.
He looked at the screen like it was a lifeline.

"Just got a message," James said, voice pitched unnaturally high.
"From my boss. At work. They, uh, really need me. I told them exactly where I am...but, uh, I gotta go."

Zane stopped mid-stride, frowning.
There was no mobile reception out here.
None.
He was sure of it — the System must have wiped it.
Maybe James had a satellite phone? That'd actually be bloody handy...

Zane opened his mouth to ask, but a firm hand clamped down on his shoulder.
He knew that grip.
Tarni.

Same as when they were boys — a silent signal.
You're walking into trouble. Let me handle it.

Zane closed his mouth and took a step back, letting Tarni step forward, casual as anything.

Tarni smiled, the kind of lazy grin that always meant he was up to something.
"No worries, mate," he said, voice all easy charm.
"I gotta head back to my place anyway. I'll give ya a lift. Zane's got a spare helmet around here somewhere."

For a split second, James' face lit up with pure relief.
Escape! An exit plan!

Then the second half of the sentence caught up with him.
On Tarni's motorbike.

The relief crashed into panic so fast it was almost funny.
James' mouth opened and closed a few times, fishlike, before he managed to stammer, "Oh, uh — I don't really — I mean, maybe I could just — uh —"

Tarni laughed and clapped him on the back a little too hard.
"Come on, mate, she's a good girl! 900cc of pure freedom!"
He winked at Zane over James' shoulder.

Zane just chuckled and went to hunt for the spare helmet.
Poor bastard didn't stand a chance.

James wasn't entirely sure how it had come to this.

One minute he'd been standing by the Ute, planning his escape.
Now he was clinging onto the back of a lunatic, on the world's loudest motorbike, hurtling down a dirt track that barely qualified as a road.

The bike roared beneath him like an angry beast.
James was pretty sure it had been built before safety standards were even invented.
The helmet they'd given him was missing half its padding. His knees were jammed awkwardly against the sides of the bike.
And Tarni — Uncle Tarn — was laughing. Laughing like a maniac as he took corners way too fast, sending gravel spraying out behind them.

James tried to sit up straighter, tried to look relaxed.
Blend in. Don't let them know you're scared. Don't let them know you know about the drug farm.

He forced a laugh.
It came out like a dying frog.

Tarni didn't seem to notice.
"You alright back there, mate?" he called over his shoulder, shouting over the engine noise.

"GREAT!" James shouted back, gripping the frame so hard his knuckles turned white.
"LOVE IT!"

A low branch whipped past his head, missing by centimetres.
James flinched so hard he almost lost his grip.

They're gonna kill me. They're going to ride me into the bush, bury me in a shallow grave, and tell Lily I ran off. I should have never left Perth. I should have proposed at that sushi place like I planned. WHY DID I COME HERE—

Tarni whooped with excitement and gunned the throttle.
The bike surged forward, the front wheel lifting slightly off the ground.
James made a noise that was half scream, half terrified prayer.

Play it cool, play it cool, act natural.

He slapped Tarni's back awkwardly — like a man congratulating a bull right before it trampled him.
"WOO!" he croaked, voice cracking.
"SO FUN!"

Tarni just laughed harder.

Somewhere deep in James' brain, a little voice whispered,
You're not making it out of this alive.

The bike skidded to a halt outside the pub-hotel hybrid in town, tires kicking up a small dust cloud.
James nearly fell off, fumbling with the helmet like it was trying to strangle him.
He hit the ground ungracefully, wobbling as he yanked the helmet off and sucked in a huge breath of blessed, non-motorcycle air.

Tarni swung off smoothly, stretching like he'd just had a casual stroll instead of a death-defying bike ride through the bush.
"You did good, mate!" he said, grinning wide, then slapped James on the back hard enough to rattle his spine.

James forced a strangled chuckle.
"Heh. Yeah. Good."

He darted his eyes around, half-expecting to see armed guards, drug dealers, maybe even some mutant possum-dogs.
But no — town was normal.

Blindingly, stupidly normal.

The old bloke with the battered hat still shuffled down the sidewalk carrying groceries.
The woman at the café still hosed down the footpath.
A ute rolled lazily around the dog still sleeping in the middle of the street.

James' pulse was still thundering in his ears when Tarni clapped his hands together.

"Alright, I'll leave you to it then. Your hire car's just down the back behind the pub, yeah?"

James nodded stiffly, eyes darting like he expected a SWAT team to rappel from the pub roof.
"Yeah... yeah. Thanks, mate."

"No worries." Tarni winked.
He turned, about to straddle his bike again—

When a bush walked past.

James froze.

A literal moving bush — covered in twigs, leaves, scraps of green — shuffled along the sidewalk like it had somewhere important to be.
As it passed, it casually lifted one hand and gave Tarni a lazy nod.

Tarni nodded back, completely unfazed.

James blinked.
Looked at Tarni.
Looked at the walking shrub.

Tarni just said cheerfully, "G'day, Max."

The walking bush — Max, apparently — muttered a gruff "Mornin'," and continued down the street, blending into the hedge line so well he practically vanished.

James' mouth opened and closed silently like a fish gasping for air.

Tarni just laughed, kicked the bike into gear, and roared off down the road in a spray of dust, leaving James alone.

James stood there a full thirty seconds, brain desperately trying to reboot.

Finally, hands trembling slightly, he muttered under his breath,
"Nope. Nope, I'm out."

He bolted across the street, beelining for the car park behind the pub.
There, parked haphazardly across two lines, sat their clean white hire car — still dusty from the drive out yesterday but blessedly normal.
James practically kissed the hood before fumbling for the keys.

He needed to get out of here.
Away from the walking bushes.
Away from death bikes.
Away from families who looked way too comfortable around bloodstains.

Perth.
He just needed to get back to Perth.
Back to cafés, clean streets, and Uber Eats.

He jammed the key into the ignition with shaking hands, not noticing that in the rearview mirror, a different bush across the road shifted slightly — and a pair of amused eyes peeked out before disappearing again.

James slammed the car door shut and practically punched the ignition button.
The engine hummed to life, and he jammed the gear stick into reverse so hard the whole car shuddered.

"Come on, come on," he muttered, sweat trickling down the back of his neck.

He backed out without checking properly, nearly hitting a wheelie bin, and rocketed forward down the street — tires screeching like he was escaping a heist.

He passed the general store.
Passed the tiny real estate shack.
Passed the café, where a couple of old locals gave him an idle wave like he wasn't clearly panicking.

"Main road. Just get to the main road," James whispered, death-gripping the steering wheel.

And then—

A moving bush stepped right into the road.

James shrieked and yanked the wheel.
The hire car bounced up a curb, flattened someone's garden flamingos, and skidded to a dusty stop.

Breathing hard, James stared at the "bush" as it turned toward him.

It wasn't a bush.

It was a kid — maybe sixteen — in a full ghillie suit, with grass and twigs sticking out at weird angles.
The boy lifted a hand in a lazy, casual nod, like this was just what you did on a Tuesday morning.

"Morning, Max!" called a woman watering her lawn nearby.

"Morning, Mrs. Wallace!" Max called back cheerily.

James' eye twitched.

Is everyone on drugs? Am I on drugs? Is this...is this real life?

Max gave James a casual thumbs-up before wandering off down the street, whistling tunelessly, the ghillie suit rustling like leaves in the breeze.

James sat frozen in the car for another long second.
Then he slammed the car back into drive and floored it for the highway.

"Never again," he gasped, half laughing, half crying as the tiny town disappeared in the rearview mirror.
"Never. Bloody. Again."

Max wandered off down the street, his ghillie suit blending almost perfectly with the overgrown gardens and battered fences. A few houses down, another bush detached itself from a hedge and ambled toward him — his twin sister Kaitlyn, wearing her own matching ghillie suit and grinning like a maniac.

The two high-fived without saying a word, their suits rustling like dry leaves.
They'd been having the time of their lives for the past two days, sneaking around town, confusing locals, and occasionally scaring the pants off tourists who thought the shrubbery was alive.

It was, without a doubt, the best fifty bucks they'd ever spent online.