Live Dungeon!

>

“…Still no luck, huh?” Misil muttered, his voice carrying the weight of frustration.

“Luck’s all it is. Let’s not overthink it,” Tsutomu replied. “Though, it’s getting late… maybe we should call it a day.”

“Nah, man, let’s try just one more round! C’mon, check if there are any more monsters around here!”

“Yeah! We’ve still got this!” Lorena chimed in, her enthusiasm undimmed.

Since they had converged, the two teams had kept scouring the eighty-third layer, pausing occasionally to catch their breath. Hundreds of monsters had fallen to their weapons, their efforts divided between the teams, yet no treasure chests appeared to reward their persistence. Now, as the afternoon waned, fatigue gnawed at them — but Misil was not ready to quit. His determination was met with nods from the rest of Silver Beast.

Silver Beast had been struggling to keep pace, just as the Dungeon Maniacs had speculated. Dark-elemental monsters swarmed the layer, largely neutralizing their key asset, Madeleine — their Sorcerer who had been crucial in their victory over the Winter General. Rara and Riri, their evasion-based Tanks, found their usual methods ineffective, unable to build enough aggro.

The pressure fell squarely on Lorena and Misil. Silver Beast’s hallmark coordination and adaptability were stifled, their rhythm thrown off. More often than not, they were forced to lean on Absolute Helix for support, their hopes now pinned on discovering a treasure chest to salvage the day.

“Actually, we really shouldn’t,” Tsutomu’s voice cut through Misil’s insistence. He gave a weary smile and patted the latter on the shoulder. “You say ‘just one more,’ but it’s never only once.”

Diniel added, “Missing the right moment to retreat never ends well. Let’s go back for today.”

Misil’s shoulders slumped, disappointment etched in his face, and the rest of the Silver Beast trudged after him toward the Black Gate. They had reached the same layer as Absolute Helix, yet the difference in their abilities was glaring. Silver Beast felt the sting of that disparity, but they pressed on, swallowing their pride.

Diniel lingered behind, her gaze fixed on Silver Beast as they disappeared through the Black Gate.

“Did they really defeat the Winter General?” she thought aloud.

“Hey, now,” Tsutomu responded immediately, his frown deepening.

Diniel shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not complaining. I get it — Silver Beast is handy for treasure hunting, and they’ll likely end up with good gear eventually. That’s why I agreed to this joint effort. But let’s be real, Tsutomu — they’re too unstable. Sooner or later, we won’t be able to cover for them. You realize that, right?”

“But they’ve still got wiggle room. Besides, you know that finding a treasure chest isn’t going to be a sure thing.”

“What wiggle room? They’re barely managing to keep up…”

“Whoa, don’t say that,” Tsutomu promptly warned.

“…Oh. I mean, it’s just… hard to believe a party this shaky made it past the eightieth layer. That doesn’t happen by luck alone.”

Tsutomu sighed, knowing Diniel’s bluntness all too well. Had he not pressed her, she would have left that thought hanging — a half-formed critique that would be undoubtedly spread by the journalists and spectators, twisting its way back to Silver Beast.

Yet, despite her tactlessness, Diniel had a point. Even with Absolute Helix covering their weaknesses, Silver Beast was struggling. In contrast, Diniel and Leleia thrived against light and dark-elemental foes, their abilities countering their resistances. Diniel had her elemental arrows, and Leleia’s command of all four Spirits gave her all the coverage she needed.

But Tsutomu could not help but notice something else: despite her mastery of the bow, Diniel was always holding back. She was more engaged during boss encounters, but even then, she never exerted her full strength — even against the Mount Golem and Winter General. Yet at a mere eighty percent, she easily outclassed most other Attackers. Pushing her to give more, however, seemed a futile effort.

Tsutomu could gauge her effort well enough — just enough to get by without drawing criticism. Diniel walked the line with precision, like a student coasting through a test with the bare minimum, leaving Tsutomu both impressed and perplexed, wondering what to do about her calculated indifference.

“It seems like everything is running smoothly enough,” Leleia observed, her tone calm as she assessed the progress of the joint exploration.

“Yeah, looks that way,” Hannah agreed with a quick nod.

“By the way, Daryl, how are you holding up?”

“I’m managing… I think. The Gnome has been a great help, especially for me since I’m the only one here really benefiting from its VIT boost. But for you, Miss Leleia, the Salamander would probably be a better pick.”

“Understood. I’ll start bringing out the Gnome more often tomorrow.”

Leleia was nothing like the languid Diniel. She burned with a fierce determination to secure her place on the main team, pushing herself through grueling training daily. Her efforts were not just focused on syncing with Tsutomu’s guidance; she was also experimenting with new ways to harmonize her Spirits with the rest of the party. The results were becoming evident.

Daryl, the Heavy Knight, now effortlessly held the attention of up to ten monsters at once. Meanwhile, Hannah, the nimble evasion-based Tank, led their advances without needing to fall back on her self-destruct button, the Magic Fist. The Dungeon Maniacs had given both Tanks high praise — Daryl for his resilience and Hannah for her agility.

This team had more than enough power to conquer the eighty-third and eighty-fourth layers if they chose to press on. But for now, Tsutomu had directed them to focus on treasure-hunting to upgrade their gear. Yet, despite their best efforts, they were returning empty-handed today.

[They must feel like it was all for nothing,] Tsutomu mused.

That sense of futility likely weighed on Diniel too, explaining her earlier remark. With a gentle nudge of his staff, Tsutomu urged her forward through the Black Gate, back toward the Guild.

[I mean, I get it — If this were a game, no one would bother playing it,] he thought with a sigh.

Even Tsutomu found it hard to suppress his own frustration. Eight hours of monster hunting had yielded not a single treasure chest, despite having an Adventurer in the party to boost their LUK rating. It felt like some cruel joke. In a modern game, such a drop rate would have been mercilessly review-bombed. Sure, Magic Stones could be sold for Gold, which cushioned the disappointment slightly, but the sting of finding no meaningful rewards lingered.

In Live Dungeon, this was the nature of things. Some days, no matter how favorable the odds seemed, players walked away with nothing. Tsutomu had grown accustomed to these dry spells, knowing full well that the so-called ‘desire sensor’ often toyed with players, forcing them into countless re-runs. Still, a fruitless day gnawed at him.

“Hannah, you took seven hits and died three times. Let’s calculate just how much that’s gonna cost you,” Tsutomu said mischievously as they stepped through the Black Gate.

“Wha — wait, what!?”

Hannah’s face drained of color, her wide eyes suddenly full of panic. Tsutomu smirked. He was half-joking — he wasn’t really going to actually make her pay, but her reaction amused him.

“So, Hannah, how much do you have left in your account?” he teased some more.

“Uh, um… let me think…” Hannah stammered, crossing her arms over her bountiful chest as she tried to remember. But her expression made it clear she did not have a clue.

Hannah was infamous for her poor money management. Of all the women in Absolute Helix, she had the worst spending habits by far — she never knew how much money she had left or how quickly it slipped through her fingers. Half of her monthly earnings were usually gone by the end of the day she received her paycheck.

She sent supplies to her home village, blissfully unaware that she was paying rip-off prices set by shady middlemen. Whenever she went shopping with Amy, she splurged on clothes and trinkets. And on her visits to orphanages with Garm and Daryl, she treated the children like royalty, showering them with gifts.

Despite making a respectable income as an Explorer, Hannah spent so recklessly that, by mid-month, her bank balance was always depressingly low. This often forced her into reluctant frugality, cutting back on her own wants.

At least she had not fallen into debt — at least not again. Tsutomu had heard she’d learned her lesson from a rough patch in the past. If she ever did go back into debt, he knew he’d have to step in; Hannah was the type who should never be allowed near a loan. The fact that she’d managed to pull herself out of her past troubles was something of a miracle in itself.

“I’m just pulling your leg. You didn’t push yourself too hard today,” Tsutomu reassured her with a gentle smile.

“Thank goodness! I’m probably broke anyway,” Hannah sighed in relief.

“So if there was a fine, you’d be right back in debt, huh?”

“Please, no! No more debts for this bird! Especially not with interest!” Hannah cried, her distress clear as she flailed her arms.

Tsutomu could not help but chuckle at her exaggerated reaction. As his laughter faded, a woman in the familiar blue uniform of the Guild staff approached, her steps light but full of energy.

“Welcome back, everyone!” She greeted them with a polite bow. The woman, an Aelurkin, was one of Amy’s successors as the Guild’s appraisers. Her gaze had already fixed on the haul of Light and Dark Magic Stones the party had gathered during the joint exploration.

Per the contract, Magic Stones were to be divided equally on-site if Amy, with her Appraisal skill, was present. Otherwise, the task fell to the Guild’s appraisers, who would evaluate the haul and ensure a fair split. Naturally, the sight of such rare stones had drawn the appraisers’ attention through the Monitor, and they’d hurried over.

“Leave the negotiations to me,” Misil announced, stepping forward. “I didn’t get much action in the Dungeon, so I’ll make up for it here.”

Frustration still simmered beneath his words, weighed by the day’s lack of treasure chests. Behind him, Lorena stood ready to back him up in the inevitable negotiations.

“Oh, yes, please go ahead,” Tsutomu gestured, stepping aside.

The Guild’s appraisers, recognizing the approach of a skilled negotiator — and the relentless haggling that would ensue, could only offer a polite smile. “Please go easy on us,” one of them said with a chuckle.

Misil and Lorena proved a formidable duo in bargaining, their combined efforts driving the value of the Magic Stones slightly higher than anticipated. As the deal was finalized, Hannah — her mind still on finances after Tsutomu’s earlier teasing — beamed at the unexpectedly favorable outcome. Yet, knowing her bird-brained nature, it was likely that by tomorrow, she’d have forgotten all about this.

▽▽

Carriages clattered along the highway leading from the Royal Capital to Dungeon City. Though the initial flood of newcomers had slowed, a steady stream of travelers still made the journey, drawn by the promise of opportunity and adventure. Dungeon City, in response, was growing at a feverish pace, expanding its borders to accommodate the influx of settlers.

On the outskirts of the city, Goblins toiled away on the construction of new apartment buildings, their small frames moving tirelessly beside the hulking Shell Crabs, which hauled lumber and stone with ease, serving as living machinery. While public works had long relied on human labor to expand the city, the influx of migrants from the Royal Capital had driven Summoners to unleash their Eidolons, accelerating the transformation of the landscape.

Goblins and Golems proved to be reliable, faithful assistants, while Slimes found surprising popularity as cool, pliant bedding. Yet it was the Shell Crabs, towering creatures as efficient as the finest machinery, that earned the highest praise from the workers. Not long ago, faulty magical tools had been the city’s only option, leading to frequent and tragic accidents. Now, these creatures, whose massive claws could take on the work of hundreds, had cut the death toll to almost nothing. During breaks, they even served as impromptu playgrounds for children, adding to their charm. And once their tasks were complete and their summoning periods neared their end, they became prized delicacies, their reputation soaring even higher.

It had become a common sight to see these giant friendly crabs lumbering through construction sites and logistics hubs around Dungeon City. Children idolized them, viewing the Shell Crabs as gentle, powerful giants. Some residents even took to feeding them Magic Stones, allowing a select few to extend their summoning periods beyond the usual limits. Contractors, delighted by the reduced costs and increased safety, could not have been more pleased with their decision to introduce them into the workforce.

As more Explorers delved into the deeper layers of the Dungeon, many found themselves within the means to hunt the Shell Crabs, whose demand had surged to unprecedented heights. The value of the crabs’ Magic Stones, essential for summoning, had soared, rivaling even the Fire Dragon’s Magic Stones, igniting a speculative frenzy in the marketplace.

Mid-tier Explorers now found it far easier to manage their finances, enabling them to invest in superior equipment and facilities, fueling their ambition to descend even further into the Dungeon’s depths. Even lower-tier Explorers saw success hovering within reach, spurring them to claw their way up the ranks with renewed determination. The soaring prices of Magic Stones across the board ushered in what could only be described as a Golden Age for the Explorers.

The checkpoint along the highway teemed with restless crowds, swarming like ants whose nest had been disturbed. Amidst the bustle, one figure stood distinctly apart — a man with long black hair flowing in the wind, an uncommon and striking feature for someone of his stature.

“…Now this is quite a gathering,” he murmured.

Weiss, leader of the Scarlet Devil Squad, surveyed the scene, his expression inscrutable. His name carried weight even before the emergence of God’s Dungeon, and now his presence was enough to stir a flurry of whispers among the crowd.

“Hey, isn’t that Weiss?” one voice whispered.

“Yeah — man, he’s so cool. Definitely’s got a different aura than the rest,” came another.

“Wait… was he always traveling with a kid?” someone else asked, as all eyes drifted to the small girl clinging to Weiss’s sleeve.

Rumors flickered, but Weiss remained as impassive as ever, his face a mask that revealed nothing of his thoughts.

“Should I start calling you ‘dad’?” the girl teased, her voice light but carrying a certain degree of sincerity.

“……”

Weiss, his gaze briefly flickering down to her, offered no reply. The girl, Meena, once a prominent figure within the Orbis Church — the same faction behind the Stampede that had nearly brought the Royal Capital to its knees — now stood quietly by his side.

It had been Meena’s testimony that unraveled the secrets of the Orbis Church after the death of its leader, Orbis himself. Investigators, acting on her word, had discovered hidden bases of operations where monsters’ corpses, draped in the clothes of former Orbis Church members, lay in macabre displays — hundreds of bodies, twisted and altered beyond recognition.

From the ruins of the secret bases, the Royal Capital’s officers unearthed documents of monster research. Some among them detailed the existence of a new horror: the Parasitors, an insidious species of monster that latched onto living beings, warping them into grotesque creatures. These parasites hollowed out their hosts, leaving them as mindless puppets, though in rare cases, consciousness lingered — Orbis had been the first known example of this, and Meena was the second.

The Parasitors had spread unnoticed, flourishing in the absence of Dungeon cullings. Orbis, originally an unassuming victim, had somehow regained control of himself after his monstrous transformation, and he had since documented the Parasitors’ nature. His research, scattered across his secret bases, now fell into the Royal Capital’s hands.

Meena, having been subject to Orbis’s experiments, had not emerged from this conflict unscathed. The deciding of her fate had divided the Royal Capital: Some called for her to be confined and studied, with dissection looming as an eventuality once enough time had passed. Others demanded her immediate execution, fearing the danger she posed. A handful argued for her innocence, noting that no civilians had perished in the Stampede — but their voices were few and quickly drowned out.

Meena, as it was revealed, had been transformed into a queen-type monster-like lifeform, wielding the power to control most insect-type monsters. Her subsequent warning to those in power had chilled the Capital: should they attempt to execute her, she would unleash her monsters upon them. Her ability to follow through was unquestioned — Orbis’s research confirmed it — and it was easy to imagine the devastating toll of another Stampede-like catastrophe.

The Royal Capital had few options. Its ruling family, long diminished in magical prowess, and its nobles, weakened by thinning bloodlines and outshone by the rise of Explorers, could offer no meaningful resistance. And so, the decision had been made: Meena would be entrusted to Weiss, the renowned Explorer whose strength could keep her in check.

The Royal Capital tried sweetening the deal with offers of wealth and prestige, but Weiss’s initial silence had unnerved them. They feared he was holding out for more, pushing them to their limits — though in truth, he had simply been too awkward to voice an opinion. Only when they had given everything they could, did Weiss finally agree, sympathizing with their desperation.

The Royal Capital sought to sweeten the arrangement with promises of wealth and prestige, yet Weiss’s initial silence unsettled them. Believing he was angling for greater rewards, they stretched their offers to the breaking point — unaware that he had simply been too awkward and unsure to voice an opinion. Only when they had exhausted all they could offer did Weiss, sympathizing with their mounting desperation, finally concede.

[How am I going to explain this to them…?] Weiss pondered silently, already bracing for the difficult conversations that lay ahead with his Clan.

He had made the decision alone, without so much as a word to the others. Even the rewards, though generous, wouldn’t suffice as justification. Preoccupied with the weight of his thoughts, he let Meena’s teasing go unanswered. If she was disappointed by his silence, she didn’t let it show. Instead, she simply turned her gaze ahead, though her fingers remained firmly clasped around the sleeve of his shirt.

>