My Perfect Isekai: Pragmatic Protagonist, Progression Fantasy and Strategy

The gates to the eightieth floor did not open with a soft creak. They groaned violently, as if a thousand tons of black iron were grinding against cracked granite, and a thick, stale fog billowed from the gap. The stench smelled of decaying ancient mushrooms and corrupted dungeon mana.

Shnee took the first step forward. Her transparent rapier of Celestial Silver instantly coated itself in a thin layer of frosted ice, and an ethereal glow flickered around her head, neutralizing the environmental pressure. Kaede, sitting on her shoulder, wrinkled her nose and sniffed.

— Jesus, it stinks in here. Like someone locked an old chicken coop underground and left it to rot for a hundred years, Kaede muttered, twitching her legs.

— The darkness on these floors is significantly denser than on the seventy-ninth, Shnee noted, adjusting her grip on the hilt. — The pressure on mana circulation is palpable with every step.

Behind them walked Karys. Her hands were already slightly bent, and her black Abyss Claws were extended and ready to slash. Her entire body was strung tight. She remembered the previous raid well. On the seventy-ninth floor, she fought for every single meter. Blood, sweat, torn muscles, a continuous dance on the edge of survival. To her, the monsters and bosses here were powerful beings that demanded everything she had.

And then she looked at Dave.

Dave walked in the middle of their group in his favorite three-piece charcoal wool suit. His coat was draped casually over his shoulders, his hands tucked deep into his trousers pockets, and a relaxed smile rested on his face — like someone out for a stroll in the park. The dark, corrupted mana of the dungeon slid right off him, neutralized at the source by the Source in his Soul.

— Dave... are you really not even putting on gloves? Karys asked, unable to hide the tension in her voice. — We are on the eightieth floor. The Boss room is right behind this fog.

— Why would I? Dave glanced back at her with a smile, scratching the back of his neck with a finger. — The suit material fits well, it’s warm inside, and keeping my hands in my pockets prevents unnecessary movements. Pure ergonomics, Karys.

Karys swallowed hard. She didn’t understand.

As they crossed the threshold of the chamber, the fog abruptly cleared, revealing a colossal, vaulted space lined with black obsidian. In the very center rested a towering figure.

The Dark Reaper of Shadow.

A four-meter-tall monstrosity stitched from black armor and dark dungeon matter. In its bony hands rested a giant scythe, its blade glowing with purple decay. The monster’s head turned toward them, red fire flaring from its empty sockets.

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The Reaper didn’t wait. It let out a hollow roar that shook the floor and charged immediately.

Dave raised his hand slightly without fully turning around.

— Girls, stand off to the side and just watch, alright? I want to warm up a bit after all that walking, he called out, completely relaxed.

Karys froze, her hand clutched around her claw hilt. Warm up?! With the Floor 80 Boss?!

The Reaper surged forward with tremendous momentum, executing a massive horizontal slash with its giant scythe meant to sweep away everything in its path.

Dave didn’t even take his hands out of his pockets... until a split second before impact.

As the blade accelerated with a roaring whistle, Dave lunged in an arc and vaulted into the air with spring-like agility. At the peak of his jump, he executed a precise maneuver — he hooked his heel right under the shaft of the scythe near the base of the blade, and a micro-impulse of telekinesis and compressed strength yanked the giant weapon straight out of the shocked Boss’s bony hands!

The scythe launched upward. Dave soared even higher, caught the grip in mid-air, performed an acrobatic flip over the monster’s head, and dragged the blade across the Boss’s black obsidian back on his way down!

ZRRRRT!

Sparks erupted across the Boss’s obsidian armor, carving a deep gash down its back.

Dave landed softly on both feet behind the monster. His coat didn’t even slip from his shoulders. He spun the giant scythe in his hand with complete ease, then turned around and casually tossed the weapon right at the Boss’s feet.

— Here, hold onto this. You dropped it, he said with a grin.

The Reaper froze. Dark mana around it exploded into thick smoke. The monster roared in rage as it grabbed the scythe back into its bony claws.

And Dave? Dave stood there staring at his hands with pure delight on his face.

— Oh man, that was awesome... he muttered, genuinely hyped. — That came out so smooth! I didn’t know I had that kind of turning radius in mid-air! Pure animation, ten out of ten flip!

Behind him, Karys was going through a complete system lag. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, her mouth agape in silent shock. He... he snatched its weapon in mid-air, slashed its back with its own scythe, handed it back with a smile, and now he’s hyping himself up?!

The enraged Reaper launched another attack, pouring all its dark hatred into a vertical overhead swing.

Dave glanced at it with mild impatience.

— Alright, enough warming up, he muttered.

As the scythe came down, Dave simply held up his left forearm and compressed his material of will (Gōtai).

CLANG!

The scythe hit his sleeve like a titanium anvil and shattered into thousands of black shards.

And before the Reaper could even process what had happened, Dave raised his right hand and smashed the Boss directly on top of its head from above — exactly like pounding a table at a meeting.

BOOM!

The concentrated force surged through the four-meter Reaper from head to toe. The monster’s armor cracked into a million pieces, its entire structure collapsing inward and disintegrating into a cloud of golden-sapphire dust.

The silence that fell over the chamber was nearly tangible.

Kaede, from Shnee’s shoulder, shook her head and twitched her legs:

— Young master does mid-air acrobatics, hypes up his own flip, throws a scythe, and the coat didn’t even move. And then he pounds him on the head like a desk. Priorities, bloody priorities.

Shnee smiled subtly and sheathed her rapier:

— Beautiful acrobatics, Dave. Very dramatic.

Dave adjusted his tie, slid his hands back into his trousers pockets, and smiled at Karys, who was still trying to piece reality back together.

— Let’s collect the loot and head to the eighty-first floor. I told you a warm-up would do good.