Live Dungeon!

”…Wait, seriously?”

Tsutomu froze mid-motion, his spoon hovering above a steaming bowl of consommé soup, surprise painted over his face. Across the dinner table, Amy was fussing unusually with her bangs as she filled him in on the state of Team 2. Though Xeno was absent, currently undergoing a rather intensive ‘mindset reform’ session courtesy of Pico, the rest of the group was present. After hearing about the issue within the team, Tsutomu turned to Korinna, brow furrowed, and gave her a puzzled look.

”I’m sorry…” Korinna murmured.

”It’s fine, really.” Tsutomu replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin. ”Everyone has their likes and dislikes. I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

He was not trying to be diplomatic. He genuinely was not upset. He had already noticed from the Monitor broadcasts that Korinna’s healing and support skewed slightly in Garm’s favor. Until now, he had assumed it was because she did not know how to handle Xeno properly or perhaps she simply underestimated him.

It was a common stage for any Healer: the moment they began to view their party members as liabilities. Sometimes everyone did everything right, played perfectly, and still lost. In such moments, the urge to lash out at the ‘weak links’ could be overwhelming. He had seen it happen countless times during the heyday of Live Dungeon, Healers throwing tantrums mid-raid and quitting outright after one too many party wipes.

But Tsutomu had long since realized that venting about weak damage output or poor character builds didn’t help anyone progress. It was better to acknowledge those frustrations, then shift focus toward figuring out what could be done with the hand he had drawn. No point in sulking over what he couldn’t control.

Indeed, it could be maddening when no one else knew the boss monster’s patterns or the Dungeon’s quirks; but if he wanted to improve, he had to push past that and keep working. He had once been the immature guy who’d angrily type ‘KYS’ (Kill Yourself) into chat, but that same bitterness had brought him nowhere.

So, Tsutomu had assumed that Korinna’s bias came from that familiar place, frustration with Xeno’s lackluster performance. And after seeing her step up during the Winter General fight, he had figured she was moving past it. He had thought the issue would resolve itself within the party.

What he had not expected was that the root cause of her bias was not tactical, but emotional. A deep-seated personal aversion toward Xeno.

Tsutomu was not a stranger to strained party dynamics. But outright hostility manifesting in someone’s support priorities was unfamiliar ground for him. He had seen it happen in ultra-efficient Clans where people were treated like spreadsheets, but he had never had to deal with it directly.

So now, he had to choose his words carefully.

”I mean, I don’t exactly like Leleia either.” He proceeded to say with a casual shrug.

”Oh my,” Leleia responded immediately. ”What a shame. I happen to like you quite a lot, Tsutomu.”

”That’s exactly the kind of thing I can’t stand about you. Saying things you don’t mean with a perfectly straight face. You even had me fooled with that innocent act when you joined the Clan. Clearly, I completely missed what Korinna was feeling, too. If everyone were as dum– no, as HONEST — as Hannah, things would be a lot easier.”

”Hmm?” Hannah blinked. ”Teach, were you about to say ‘dumb’ just now? Were you!?”

Tsutomu had long given up on trying to understand what went on inside women’s heads especially after seeing all the darkness that emerged during real-life meetups back in the golden age of Live Dungeon. But even so, he had not expected someone as seemingly harmless as Korinna to harbor such negative feelings — feelings strong enough to affect her job as a Healer.

”Anyway,” he said, shifting back to a calm tone. ”Thanks for bringing it up instead of bottling it in. I’m glad to know, and if it looks like it can’t be solved within the party, just come tell me again. We’ll talk it through.”

”Okay,” Amy replied cheerfully, her tone light and relaxed.

She had been the first to spot the subtle fracture forming within the team and took the initiative to address it. According to her, even Amira had sensed something was off and had tried to help. Maybe he had to tell Camille about this later — she’d probably cry tears of joy when she hears of this.

As the conversation wrapped up and everyone resumed their meals, Tsutomu rested his chin on one hand, lost in thought. He was unaware of the lingering gaze Hannah was directing at him.

Lately, his time had been devoured by preparations for progressing through the ninety-first layer, planning countermeasures at the Dorren Workshop, resulting in him not paying enough attention to the internal state of the Clan. It was not good for a leader to overlook such signs of tension especially when their relationships had only been forged within the past year. Even the smallest cracks could deepen and spread before anyone realized it. He had seen too many such implosions in Live Dungeon to dismiss the warning signs.

[…Yeah, maybe I’ve been too caught up in everything lately. I’ve been rushing too much and all that. Amy and Amira really saved the day this time. I need to keep a closer eye on the Clan…]

In his mind, he had already mapped out a fairly smooth path through to the hundredth layer. But reality rarely played out according to plan. He hadn’t foreseen Stephanie’s wildly unhinged power spike, which had suddenly turned into a major factor against his chances of being the first to clear the Dungeon. Nor had he predicted the Stampede, or the whole dumpling [ invention. So many curveballs and he had been reacting instead of anticipating.

[Come to think of it… I’ve also been so fixated on gearing up that I haven’t checked the Monitors in a while. Maybe I should go tomorrow.]

Ever since focusing his efforts on progressing beyond the ninety-first layer, his visits to the Monitors had dropped off sharply. And while he did not technically need to watch it anymore with his team being in the uncontested lead, it still was a source of entertainment. The absence of that small pleasure had built up unnoticed stress. Perhaps that, too, had been feeding his recent impatience.

In that sense, it was a blessing that he’d been forced to stop and reassess.

”Teach?”

”Wah!”

Tsutomu nearly jumped out of his chair. Hannah had somehow moved right next to him and was peering at his face with the curiosity of a child examining a rare insect. Startled, he jerked back, recoiling as though something bizarre and crawly had suddenly gotten too close. 𝐑АŊȯ₿Еꞩ

At that response, Hannah flung her unkempt blue hair about in indignation, as if to say, ‘How dare you?’

”What’s up with THAT reaction!? Do you think I’m some kind of stinkbug or something!?”

”My bad,” Tsutomu replied. ”But you’re the one calling yourself a stinkbug and getting mad about it. Isn’t that kind of weird?”

”Wh-what IS with that look!?” she cried. ”You’re totally looking at me like I’m some kind of dumb bug!”

Well, maybe not a stinkbug but Tsutomu’s expression did very much say ‘What is this idiot going on about now?’ And when she saw that look, Hannah beat her blue-feathered wings with furious energy. The blast of wind startled Maribel, who stood behind her, sending the maid apprentice’s apron and hair flying wildly.

Tsutomu, for his part, crossed one leg over the other with an air of authority, let out an exaggerated sigh, and reached into his Magic Bag. From it, he pulled out a single sheet of paper: it was Ollie’s handwritten loan agreement, the one bearing Hannah’s name.

”Say, you haven’t forgotten you’re in debt to Absolute Helix, have you?”

”Huh–?”

”And I’m the Clan leader. Which means it’s not exactly a great idea to be acting like that toward me, now is it? I HAVE heard you’ve been getting your act together lately thanks to Amy’s help, but… well, I AM the Clan leader. I could always ask Amy to stop helping you, y’know?”

He waved the debt slip in the air, his tone casual but unmistakably threatening. Hannah turned toward Amy with a face full of disbelief, silently pleading for reassurance. But Amy just grinned and deliberately looked away.

”The Clan leader’s orders are absolute. Sorry, Hannie!”

”What!?”

”I wonder what would happen if Amy stopped helping you,” Tsutomu mused aloud. ”Your debt would probably just keep piling up, right? Before long, it’d be more than you could ever repay. At that point, you’d probably be stuck under me, working yourself to the bone until you die of old age… But hey, if that’s how you want to go out, be my guest and keep acting like that.”

”…”

Nothing Tsutomu said was particularly harsh on its own. But perhaps it was his ominous tone tinged with that dark presence of his that painted such a vivid image in Hannah’s mind: herself in chains, forced to push heavy stones like an ancient pyramid’s construction worker. Her face went pale in an instant.

Tsutomu pointed toward her seat.

”If you understand, then sit down and finish your meal. Quietly.”

”A-aye, sir!!”

Snapping to attention, Hannah dashed back to her seat and resumed eating with robotic obedience. Daryl and Korinna exchanged helpless smiles at the sight of their Clan’s leader behaving like a nouveau riche CEO.

”Just so you know, I’m not taking any orders from you.” Amira muttered.

”Good.” Tsutomu replied with a smirk. ”I don’t HAVE the authority to order Clan members around. That’s why I said I’d ASK Amy.”

”Hah, there’s that shady side of you I haven’t seen in a while. Maybe I should leak this to the papers. Tell ’em this is the REAL Tsutomu, not the popular dude everyone loves. That might just save our little bird-brain here.”

”…Really?” Hannah whispered, eyes gleaming with the faintest glimmer of hope.

”You’re free to say whatever you want.” Tsutomu said flatly. ”But if it causes problems for me, you’re getting DESTROYED.”

”Okay, okay, okay!” Daryl cut in, clapping his hands together. ”Let’s leave the jokes there, all right? The food’s getting cold!”

And with that, Daryl’s attempt at peacemaking brought the conversation to a close. But for quite some time afterward, Hannah remained visibly on edge around Tsutomu, flinching at even the slightest glance.