Live Dungeon!

Although the party had technically undergone a lineup change, only Xeno and Daryl had been swapped, so the impact on their coordination was minimal. Daryl had gotten too used to working with a Channeler’s style, perhaps, but for better or worse, he was a straightforward boy who could be course-corrected in no time. As for Xeno, with Pico acting as his advisor, he was not likely to become a liability either.

”You’re getting the hang of it,” Tsutomu said. ”Just make sure you don’t fall too far behind Garm, yeah?”

”Come on, I’m not exactly a miracle worker, you know…” Daryl replied with a sheepish grin.

So far, Tsutomu’s expectations were mostly on point. Daryl had started by mimicking Garm’s movements, using him as a model, and gradually began adapting to the party’s rhythm. Korinna and her group, too, had moved on to the ninety-ninth layer, which meant no major issues had surfaced on her end.

”Try not to copy me too much,” Garm grumbled.

”Huh…?”

The contrast between the two Cynokins was stark: Daryl’s droopy ears hung low while Garm’s were perked up in irritation, as if trying to shake off a growing sense of unease. His clipped responses and subtle aloofness made him seem like an older brother suddenly growing cold to a younger sibling, leaving Daryl looking around as though searching for their parents.

”I feel like I can move better during [,” Amy chimed in brightly. ”Y’know, in the middle of [!”

”……”

Amy had grown more adept at handling the Dragon transformation, with it lasting longer with each attempt. Across from her, Amira watched quietly, eyeing her greatsword with a conflicted expression, clearly measuring her own growth against Amy’s.

While Amy’s results had once seemed modest, her tireless adherence to Tsutomu’s absurdly meticulous instructions had transformed her. Now, she stood as one of the strongest Dualbladers in the scene. Only someone like Weiss, also capable of wielding dual blades, could be considered her rival. Her combat strength was more impressive than ever before, and her coordination with the Clan had reached a new level.

Amira, meanwhile, had begun to fixate more and more on maintaining her [ and [, spurred by Amy’s recent progress.

As Tsutomu observed the contrasting styles of his frontline Tanks, Daryl and Garm, alongside the brute force and agility of their Attackers, he quietly dispelled his [ with a flick of his hand, like a faerie vanishing on cue.

[The party’s strength is more than enough,] he thought. [With Garm and Daryl holding the line, I’ve got nothing to worry about in terms of defense. Amy’s become one of the top-tier Dualbladers, and even if someone dies, Amira can compensate with raw firepower. Honestly, this party’s kind of terrifying.]

Everyone had passed level ninety now, so their stats ratings were in a comfortable place. And in terms of coordination, there wasn’t much cause for concern. This was, without question, a party fully capable of clearing the hundredth layer.

[…But man, I really, really don’t wanna go.]

If he had to name a concern, it was the fact that he himself was the only weak link in the group. Now that the hundredth layer was right before his eyes, all the doubts he had pushed aside for so long came rushing back with a vengeance. The temptation to abandon it all, to forget about Earth and stay in this world forever, was stronger than ever.

Back when he’d first been thrown into this world, his desire to return home had been overwhelming. He had managed to secure enough Gold to fund his early days’ necessities and dungeoneering expenses by selling his Black Staff, but without much of anyone to rely on, he’d spent time as a newbie being treated like a nuisance, a so-called Lucky Boy who everyone wanted to keep at arm’s length.

But after rising through the ranks of God’s Dungeon together with Garm and Amy, his standing had improved. The injustices became fewer and farther between. He still had his share of bone-chilling encounters, but the fear gradually faded. Life here grew easier.

If he chose to settle down, he wouldn’t even need to clear the hundredth layer. Let Korinna or Stephanie claim that honor; anyone would do. He could just live out his days in this world surrounded by his Clan, by the Guild staff, by the Forest Apothecary who always sold him good Potions, and the artisans of the Dorren Workshop who maintained his gear. He would not have to say goodbye to any of them.

And he would keep his fortune, enough to never work another day if he didn’t want to. His status wouldn’t change; he wouldn’t lose anything. He’d even mapped out that future once or twice in his head, running through it like a simulation.

[But in the end, reality always catches up, huh…]

No matter how long he stayed here, he could never fully believe this world was real. Some part of him insisted that one day, he’d wake up in his room back home. And as much as he knew the people of this world genuinely struggled to earn their Gold, he couldn’t help but see the currency as in-game money. Somewhere deep down, he still scoffed at those who treated it like real wealth.

If walking away from reality were that easy, he would have done it back in high school, when he first fell into the black hole of Live Dungeon. That was the game’s golden era, when news reports were warning of online gaming addiction, and dropout rates were climbing. Some of his friends had quit school altogether to play full-time. Even he had been pressured to log longer hours by friends online. His high school memories were almost entirely comprised of Live Dungeon.

And yet, in those moments between loading screens and chat lulls, he had still crammed for entrance exams. Barely scraping by, he still made it into university. Unlike the others who burned bridges for the game, Tsutomu kept one foot in the ‘real world,’ no matter how reluctantly. But that was more than enough to make those around him recoil.

He spent a few more years enjoying the game from a more stable position, running a Clan instead of grinding endlessly. But when the original developers left, and the player base dwindled, Tsutomu knew it was time to go. He watched as friends disappeared one by one and saw the new management’s eagerness to squeeze every last penny out of the game and its audience. By the third year of university, he only played the game to pass the time while job hunting. In fact, he had successfully secured a job offer by the time he was doing his five-account juggling experiments.

The hardcore players who had mocked and lorded over newbies, the dropouts, those who became shut-ins to dedicate their lives to Live Dungeon… they all eventually had to face the real world. Tsutomu knew he was no different. No matter how tempting this place was, he couldn’t pretend reality didn’t exist. Which was why he had to move forward: clear the hundredth layer first, and not let that be the end. He would face reality, not run from it.

[Would be nice if someone implemented a way to log in and out of Earth, though…]

Even with that resolution, the doubts and mental noise would not go away. So Tsutomu continued supporting his party, keeping their buffs and healing consistent as they pressed through the ninety-ninth layer, doing his best to hold the rising tide of escapism at bay.