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Royal RoadMagic Murder Cube Marine
- Fantasy
- Comedy
- Satire
Francis Francis Francis the 3rd was one hell of a Marine. He died doing what he loved, killing everyone around him.
After being vaporized in the line of duty, Francis is transported to a new world full of gods and magic. Too bad Hades is trying to kill him for declining a job offer and System holds a grudge for what happened during character creation. At least his new patron deity seems nice.
Armed with nothing but his lucky pink booty shorts, a pair of matching flip flops, and nineteen years worth of experience fighting in the Marine Corps, Francis must find a way home to his fellow grunts, or be listed as KIA forever.
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A world abandoned by the gods, mystifying cosmic forces, unimaginable power for those willing to ascend, and a hero who would rather... go fishing???
When summoned to a fantastical world and granted powers by a broken System, most freshly minted protagonists would strap on their big-boy boots and get ready for their stats to start climbing. But Fischer isn’t like most MCs. In fact, he doesn’t want to be a hero at all.
Fame? Fortune? Power? He had enough of all that in his old life. Discovering forbidden fishing techniques and petting every cute animal that comes within scritching distance? Now that’s a good time.
Unfortunately for Fischer, cosmic forces rarely care for mortal feelings. He’s hounded on all sides by inept cults, conspiring nobles, and more magical misunderstandings than those of a preteen relationship. Even his dutiful pet crab is firing energy blades like an anime antagonist.
So grab your fishing rod, fetch a good snack, and pet your dog for me. The catch of a lifetime awaits!
The apocalypse will be televised!
A man. His ex-girlfriend's cat. A sadistic game show unlike anything in the universe: a dungeon crawl where survival depends on killing your prey in the most entertaining way possible.
In a flash, every human-erected construction on Earth—from Buckingham Palace to the tiniest of sheds—collapses in a heap, sinking into the ground.
The buildings and all the people inside have all been atomized and transformed into the dungeon: an 18-level labyrinth filled with traps, monsters, and loot. A dungeon so enormous, it circles the entire globe.
Only a few dare venture inside. But once you're in, you can't get out. And what's worse, each level has a time limit. You have but days to find a staircase to the next level down, or it's game over. In this game, it's not about your strength or your dexterity. It's about your followers, your views. Your clout. It's about building an audience and killing those goblins with style.
You can't just survive here. You gotta survive big.
You gotta fight with vigor, with excitement. You gotta make them stand up and cheer. And if you do have that "it" factor, you may just find yourself with a following. That's the only way to truly survive in this game—with the help of the loot boxes dropped upon you by the generous benefactors watching from across the galaxy.
They call it Dungeon Crawler World. But for Carl, it's anything but a game.