CHAPTER 92: THE SLIME THAT SHOULD NOT BE

As the earth trembled beneath them, the sludge shifted with a sickening slosh. Finn spun around—

—and pissed himself a little.

Crawling out of the slime puddle was a hand. A small, grotesque hand. Wet and translucent, with slime dripping off each finger as it reached for his leg.

Finn yelped and jumped back like he’d just seen his report card.

"YOU GUYS SAW THIS AND DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING?!"

Chestelle blinked. "What were we supposed to say?"

"I don’t know, maybe—’Hey Finn, something is reaching out of the slime puddle behind you?!’ Something like that?!"

"I wouldn’t have said it like that," Majestria said, rolling her eyes.

Finn pointed in horror as the hand slithered farther out. "See?! If you hadn’t stomped around like a dinosaur in high heels with big feet, we wouldn’t even be in this mess, you absolute idiot!"

Majestria’s eye twitched. "Big feet?!"

Before Finn could react, she lifted her leg and slammed the sole of her foot right into his face.

"DO THESE LOOK LIKE BIG FEET TO YOU?!"

Finn froze. His mind blanked.

His brain screamed—but his nose...

’Oh my gods... why does her foot smell good?!’

Chestelle bumped into him from behind, snapping him out of his accidental foot-hypnosis.

"Huh?!"

He looked back at the puddle—and now both arms were emerging. Slime-covered, malformed, gripping the cave floor as something massive began dragging itself up from beneath.

"Oh gods—oh gods—what do we do?!"

Majestria stared, horrified. "You’re the adventurer! You think of something! You killed that giant chicken!"

"That was a chicken! Chickens are manageable! THIS IS A SLIME ABOMINATION!"

Lickthorn, who had been frozen by a nearby slime wall, suddenly pulled out her "wand"—and readied herself.

Finn noticed. He gritted his teeth. If Lickthorn could prepare for battle, so could he.

Then Chestelle clung to his side like a creepy koala. "Can you defeat the slime thing like you defeated those demons?"

"...Oh yeahhh."

That thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

His literal power.

The whole "trip the enemy and ruin their life" power Majestria kinda-sorta-maybe gave him. He still wasn’t entirely sure how that worked. Or how he even received it. But it had worked before.

So, in classic Finn fashion...

He decided to wing it.

He stretched his arm out dramatically... then yanked it back like a kung fu wizard.

And—

Nothing.

"W-What?!"

He did it again. Same motion. Same flair.

Still absolutely nothing.

Then, right on cue, that familiar smug voice echoed in his skull—the one he hated with a passion, but also kind of loved.

[User is unable to trip inanimate objects.]

’What?! So that thing’s not even alive?!’

[User must trip ten opponents before unlocking inanimate tripping privileges.]

"Damn it!" Finn yelled, smacking the air.

"What’s wrong?" Chestelle blinked beside him, unbothered as always.

"I can’t trip it." he groaned in utter defeat.

"What?!" Majestria shot him a glare. "You are completely useless!"

"Says you!" Finn barked back.

"Can’t you use the other power I graciously granted you back at the tower?"

"You mean the Rearranger?"

"Yes! What else would I be talking about, the one where you start lactating mayonnaise?!"

Finn frowned. "I don’t have that power—yet. Wait what?! No, the Rearranger only lets me move furniture with my mind."

Majestria stared at him, equal parts furious... and oddly delighted.

"That is completely useless!"

"No waaay, really? Wow, what a shocker."

"...But that could help me reorganize my room." She muttered with a glint in her eye, already daydreaming.

"NOW IS NOT THE TIME!!"

SPLASH!

Everyone whipped around.

Lickthorn stood beside the slime puddle, arm still outstretched. She had just launched a spell—the same white goop she’d used in the tower’s "Fun Room."

The slime arm sizzled for a second...

Then absorbed it like it was protein shake.

Finn’s face went pale.

"Okay. New rule. No more liquid magic on the slime monster."

He turned to Lickthorn. "Do you have any spells that aren’t liquid?"

She blinked, completely deadpan. "No. I specialize in fluid dynamics."

Finn slapped both hands across his face and dragged them down with a groan. "UGHHH."

’How the hell are we gonna beat this thing?’

Time clicked. Not ticked—clicked—like some cursed clock syncing to the rhythm of an incoming disaster.

The slime monster in the puddle began to rise.

And, naturally, the Majestic Wiggles party just stood there.

Staring. Doing absolutely nothing. Like horror movie extras waiting for their cue to scream.

A wet burrrlgp echoed as the thing’s head emerged from the sludge, thick slime dragging off its deformed shape. The head was vaguely human—like someone had tried to sculpt a face out of Jell-O while blindfolded. It had hollow eye sockets and a mouth, but no eyes, no teeth, no tongue.

The creature opened its mouth as if to scream... but instead, only the sound of slime tearing filled the air.

Then came the arms, gripping the ground with squishy wet slaps as it began to drag more of its form out—revealing a narrow, dripping torso with what looked like a bellybutton puckered right in the middle.

The group just... stared.

Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Finn slowly turned his head toward Majestria, eyes wide with desperation. "You have to kill that thing."

Majestria didn’t even blink. Her expression was blank. Emotionless. Like someone had asked her to clean a gas station toilet with a toothbrush.

"I am not putting my hands—or feet—anywhere near that."

"You’re the only one who can! Lickthorn’s spells are all liquid-based—this thing absorbs that! Chestelle can only turn into a chest! You’re the only one with real power—you beat a giant chicken to death!"

Majestria raised a finger. "There’s a key difference, Finn. That was a chicken. It had feathers. This?" She pointed at the still-emerging monstrosity. "This is a walking mucus glob with a face. One ruined my dress. The other is slime. And I refuse to let a single molecule of it touch my divine, beautiful skin."

Finn’s face twisted in disbelief. "Then how the hell are we supposed to kill it?!"

She shrugged. "I don’t know. Sounds like a you problem."