Live Dungeon!

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Today was the team’s first day off since the alliance with Silver Beast had been forged. In the Clan House’s living room, a newly installed sofa — massive, luxurious, and crafted from the hides and scales of various monsters — dominated Diniel’s attention. She sank into its plush, melting into it as though she were a soft rice cake easing into warmth.

“Looks like someone’s a fan,” Tsutomu observed, seated at a respectful distance from Diniel.

“I want one in my room,” Diniel murmured without opening her eyes.

“Good luck with that. The crafter’s totally booked.”

The sofa, an opulent piece made to order, was as rare as it was indulgent. Thanks to Ollie’s deep connections in the Royal Capital, they had managed to acquire one, but it was not a luxury that could be casually secured. Its maker’s list was full for the foreseeable future, a year at least.

Hearing the soft sound of footsteps descending the stairs, Tsutomu rose to his feet.

Korinna’s team had already left the Clan House, setting off for God’s Dungeon. Amy and Amira, meanwhile, had been obsessed with mastering the latter’s new skill, >, to the point that it was not unusual to see them wandering about with wings sprouting from their backs. The two had even made headlines in the local papers, with Amy’s fans praising Amira for unlocking new heights of power and fashion for the former.

Garm was still hard at work, refining his physical techniques to push his limits, while Xeno, with the help of his Dungeon Maniac wife, Pico, had been trying out a more supportive, Buffer-style approach to combat. Both men now spent most of their time in the depths of the Dungeon, chasing their individual goals.

Tsutomu’s party, however, maintained the usual routine — two days off each week, allowing each member to train as they liked. Diniel, never one to venture out on her days off, made it impossible for them to practice as a full group. Hannah, bored by the inactivity, had gone off to hang out and stay overnight at Silver Beast’s Clan House.

Tsutomu had intended to spend his day quietly, observing the Monitors from his usual reserved spot. But Leleia, finding herself with an unexpected gap in her schedule, had opted to join him. After preparing upstairs, she descended swiftly.

“Sorry for the wait. Shall we?” Leleia said as she reached the bottom.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Tsutomu replied.

Leleia had not tied up her long green hair today, letting it fall freely past her shoulders. The resemblance to Amira was striking. If one were to compare, Amira had the energy of a gym teacher, while Leleia exuded the calm of a science instructor, but still, their similarities were enough that one could easily mistake them for sisters.

“See ya,” Diniel called lazily from the sofa as they made their way toward the entrance.

“Mm-hmm,” Leleia answered, nodding slightly.

On their way out, they passed Daryl, deep in conversation with Ollie, who was in the middle of cleaning the hall.

Lately, Daryl had taken to dining at Dungeon City’s most esteemed restaurants like a seasoned gourmand. There were places, though, that did not admit lone diners, so he often enlisted an acquaintance from the orphanage or Ollie as a companion. From the sound of it, their current topic was yet another restaurant reservation.

“Daryl’s been working hard for you and Garm,” Leleia whispered as Tsutomu slipped on his shoes.

“…Yeah,” He sighed.

Stepping outside, Tsutomu felt a familiar pang of guilt. Daryl, with meticulous care, had been orchestrating a meal to bring Tsutomu and Garm together, hoping to ease the strain between them. Tsutomu could not shake the weight of that effort resting on his shoulders.

After Garm had brushed off Tsutomu’s tactical suggestions at the Guild, Tsutomu, in his role as Clan Leader, had pressed the issue, demanding to hear what Garm truly thought. Garm, unable to defy a direct order, had looked visibly uncomfortable.

In the end, Garm had spoken bluntly, admitting that he wanted to work out his own strategies without relying on Tsutomu’s input. It was rare for Garm, usually so reserved, to speak so frankly, and though Tsutomu’s expression had darkened, he had no choice but to accept the decision with a bitter nod.

On the surface, the matter was settled. But the weight of having used his authority to force Garm into speaking hung heavy on Tsutomu. The words had been said, but the unease lingered, casting a shadow over their interactions. Conversations between them grew infrequent, and even the briefest encounters — like when they crossed paths during morning runs — were tinged with awkward silence. For Tsutomu, it had become a quiet agony, both physically and emotionally.

[This feels even worse than when my first Clan fell apart…]

Up until now, Tsutomu had never experienced conflict with Garm. He had always believed Garm trusted him implicitly, following his lead without question. When no one else had given him the time of day during the Lucky Boy incident, Garm had been the first to offer his aid. And during the Shell Crab battle, Garm had placed more faith in Tsutomu’s strategy than anyone else. Tsutomu had always felt confident that the advice he gave was sound, and that Garm had been content with it. РαꞐ𝘖𐌱Ë𝘴

So when Garm rejected his advice so firmly, Tsutomu was left reeling. Since that moment, he could not bring himself to talk to Garm as easily as before. The strain between them was obvious to everyone in the Clan, but none more so than Daryl, who went out of his way to ease the tension at every opportunity.

As Tsutomu brooded over these thoughts, he caught Leleia watching him from the corner of his eye. Her gleaming green eyes narrowed, head tilted like a reptile assessing its prey, as if daring him to explain himself. Irritated, Tsutomu waved her off.

“I’ve already talked things over with Garm. He just needs to figure out what he wants for himself,” Tsutomu said, his voice clipped.

“You’re remarkably soft on him, aren’t you?” Leleia responded, a note of challenge in her tone. “If it were Xeno or Hannah, things would’ve played out very differently, don’t you think?”

“…If you had that much of a problem with it, you could have said something at the time,” Tsutomu snapped.

Leleia shrugged lightly. “Garm has his own support system — Daryl, Hannah, Korinna. If he were an Attacker, I might’ve spoken up. But he’s a Tank. What he does is not really my concern… or rather, I don’t care at all,” she added with a disturbingly genuine smile.

Her unsettling nonchalance reminded Tsutomu of the kind of sharp, roundabout comments one might see in a Live Dungeon gossip threads. His face betrayed his exasperation, and Leleia, noticing, gave a small cough, as if to reset the tone of their conversation.

“Anyway, don’t mind me. You just do what you need to,” she continued, her voice softer now. “It’s not like I dislike Garm or anything, and I get where he’s coming from. Besides, seeing how you stood your ground, even with him pushing back — that was quite reassuring to me. It shows you’re not playing favorites.”

Leleia knew how much trust Tsutomu placed in Garm, almost to an unshakeable degree. She had assumed the tension between them would be smoothed over, as it often was with their dynamic. But witnessing Tsutomu confront Garm as a leader, and not simply as a friend, had eased any doubts she or the others might have had about favoritism within the Clan.

“It’s just… seeing you like this, so down, is rare,” she added with a faint smile. “I couldn’t resist poking at you a little.”

“Oh, really? You ‘couldn’t resist,’ huh? …You know what, you’re creeping me out. Would you mind staying away from me?” Tsutomu shot her a sharp look as he quickened his pace.

Leleia, unfazed, gave a lighthearted shrug. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. It’d be a waste to let my reserved seat go unused, don’t you think? And we’ve already come this far.”

She pointed ahead toward the Pedestal Market’s reserved seating area, her tone chipper, but Tsutomu only clicked his tongue, picking up speed in a futile attempt to shake her off. Had it been Hannah trailing him, she might have been in tears by now — but Leleia was not the kind to wilt so easily.

“What’s the matter? Prefer Daryl’s company over mine?” she teased.

“He’s definitely better than you.”

Leleia smirked. “Oh, speaking of company… I’ve never actually come to see the Pedestals with you before, have I? Strengthening ties with your Clan members is part of a leader’s job — you wouldn’t neglect that now, would you?”

Tsutomu gave her a sidelong glance, unimpressed. “Big talk from someone who only joined the Clan because of Amira. You’ll have to be more convincing than that.”

“Oh my… how cruel! You’re so nice to everyone else, but when it comes to me… Oh, actually, you’re awfully harsh on Eunice from Golden Tune, too. She’s your student, yet you’re stricter with her than anyone. Why are you like this?”

Tsutomu sighed. “You sure are chatty today.”

“Uhuhu… maybe I’m just excited. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out alone with a man, after all.” Leleia laughed, half-covering her mouth as she did, prompting Tsutomu to scowl as he made his way to the reception desk to check their reservation.

Any other woman making such a remark might have sent his heart racing, but with Leleia, there was no mistaking the lack of genuine sentiment. She had already made clear who she was actually after, and in the context of their relationship, she simply found amusement in the fact that Tsutomu’s cynicism mirrored her own, if not surpassed it.

It was true — her behavior toward him had grown noticeably friendlier over time, but not out of affection. It was the shared understanding of their respective bitterness that drew her in. Leleia’s admiration for Amira had soured into resentment, to the point of her leaving a stable, prestigious Clan to find some twisted form of revenge. Her drive had led her to Tsutomu’s Clan, where he had seen through her motives and even suggested a far more elaborate revenge than she had imagined.

Leleia’s sense of inferiority had always plagued her, making her never feel quite at home within her family of knights. Becoming an Explorer was her escape. And yet, meeting someone even more ruthless than herself had, strangely enough, brought her a kind of solace. Since joining, she’d grown in confidence. After the Stampede, she had even reconciled with her family back in the Royal Capital — a reconciliation that, in some way, she credited to Tsutomu. His influence, indirect as it was, had pushed her toward healing old wounds, and for that, she felt an odd, lingering sense of gratitude.

“Ah, look over there. That food stall looks good. Should we grab something?” Leleia asked, shifting the subject.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Really? You always seem to buy a ton of food whenever you’re out with Daryl…”

“Good God, you’re so annoying,” Tsutomu muttered, clearly reaching the limit of his patience.

And yet, despite the constant bickering, there was a strange compatibility between the two of them. With Leleia grinning mischievously and Tsutomu brimming with exasperation, they made their way toward the reserved seats at the Monitors.

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