The ratings and views are off the chart. The fans just can’t get enough. The dungeon gets more dangerous each day. But in a grinder designed to chew up and spit out crawlers by the millions, Carl and Princess Donut need to work harder than ever just to survive.

They call it the Over City. A sprawling, once-thriving metropolis devastated by a mysterious calamity. But these streets are far from abandoned. An undead circus trawls the ruins. Murdered prostitutes rain from the sky. An ancient spell is finally ready to reveal its dark purpose.

Carl still has no pants.

They call it Dungeon Crawler World. For Carl and Donut, it’s anything but a game.

I don’t know what’s more unhinged—Carl’s pantsless adventures through an alien death-dungeon livestreamed across the universe, or the fact that Matt Dinniman somehow managed to outdo the absolute chaos of book one. Either way, this book is a wild ride from beginning to end. Bloody, bonkers, hilarious, yet surprisingly heartfelt.

I dove into this one just a few weeks after finishing Dungeon Crawler Carl, which may have been my only mistake. Not because I didn’t enjoy this one (I did), but because I think I needed a moment to let the glorious absurdity of book wear off a bit.

In book two, Carl and Princess Donut are officially out of the tutorial levels. They’re now navigating a new zone called the Over City—a crumbling, post-apocalyptic urban sprawl filled with new rules, new horrors, and new ways to die. And of course, it’s all still being broadcast live for the entertainment of a bloodthirsty intergalactic audience.

You’ve got undead circuses. Literal blood rain. Creepy murder nuns. Flying sex workers. And spells that don’t behave. Yet, amongst all that craziness, you also get deeply personal moments between characters who are trying desperately to hold onto some semblance of humanity. That emotional layer is what elevates this series above adrenaline-fueled absurdity.

Carl remains a fantastic protagonist. He’s constantly walking the tightrope between survivalist rage and heart-on-his-sleeve decency. He’s not perfect, and he knows it, which is what makes him so compelling to root for. And Princess Donut? She’s still one of the best sidekicks ever. Her diva attitude and constant one-liners make her hilarious without being annoying.

As in the first book, the writing is whip-smart and unapologetically weird. Every chapter ends with a bang—figuratively or literally—and there’s always some new grotesque or jaw-dropping twist waiting around the corner.

One thing worth noting for sensitive readers, there is a lot of gore and violence, but the story is balanced out with humor and surprising moments of vulnerability. This isn’t just carnage for carnage’s sake. It’s a satire. A commentary on greed, fame, capitalism, and morality—and it never takes itself too seriously.

My only (slight) critiques? The fast-pace is almost too much at times. I would have liked a few more moments to breathe. Also, the novelty of the format and worldbuilding didn’t hit quite as hard the second time around. That’s not the book’s fault, really—it’s a me problem. The reason I loved the first book so much was because it took me off guard, but this time around, I knew exactly what to expect. I think I might let a little more time pass before I dive into book three. But even with that in mind, this is still a wildly inventive and ridiculously entertaining sequel.

If you’re someone who enjoys LitRPG, post-apocalyptic mayhem, or just want a series that breaks the rules and has fun doing it, this one should be high on your list. Just maybe give yourself a breather between books to keep the experience fresh. And maybe buy Carl some damn pants while you’re at it. I’m worried about his junk.