Live Dungeon!

[Sure would be nice if that was enough to make her stop throwing herself at the hundredth layer…] Tsutomu thought as he glanced back, recalling the way Stephanie had simply swallowed her tears rather than breaking down like she once had. [But judging by her expression, it’ll just end up being a moment of weakness, not the end of her efforts. She’s not going to spiral like before.]

Back in his room, Tsutomu passed the time casting [, sealing it within a [, and dispelling it immediately after.

His suspicions were now stronger than ever; the abnormal power of the Corroded Elder Dragon and the forced ejection from the Dungeon suggested that the hundredth layer held something unlike anything before. And after confronting death so directly, enduring that paralyzing fear for a good chunk of a day, he had come to accept it.

He no longer needed sacrificial lambs to move forward. Though, of those whom he had considered such, the only one he could not help but keep in mind was Stephanie. Had she broken down completely, things would have been easier. But she had already shaken off her cult-like obsession. Her foundations had hardened, and so she had not taken a fatal blow.

[Guess there’s no avoiding it, then. I’ll just have to beat her with results… and I DON’T think I’ll lose on that front. Worst-case scenario, I just go back to learning through death like in Live Dungeon. But I’d hoped to nip that anxiety in the bud…]

He no longer needed to play like it was a no-death challenge run. The fear was still there, but if push came to shove, he could accept it. That shift alone meant he could fight with greater freedom, even against something like the Corroded Elder Dragon. Even if its power was on par with a Secret Dungeon Boss, there had to be a way through.

[Give it a few more tries, and I’ll figure out its patterns. It’s the aftermath that worries me… What happens after the hundredth layer? Will I get sent straight home from there?]

Given the painstaking buffs that Dragon had received, it seemed inevitable that something would happen once the hundredth layer was cleared. Whether it opened a path back to Earth or didn’t, either option left a sour taste in his mouth.

If the way home opened, he would have to part with this fantastical world and the comrades who had shared it with him for nearly two years. But if it did not, he would remain in limbo, plagued by the fear of sudden ejection and the gnawing sense that he should be returning to the real world, rather than soaking in this lukewarm dream.

And even if he could go back, he couldn’t just say ‘Thanks for everything’ and disappear right then and there. He had already set Absolute Helix up to run smoothly without him, but walking away would still feel irresponsible.

That was why Tsutomu had spent the last year preparing for the inevitable. Using his Dungeon-sourced earnings, he had leveraged his knowledge of Live Dungeon to amass a staggering fortune. He had invested in land, properties, and other tangible assets, all with the intent to pass them on to his Clan, giving every member enough to live comfortably for the rest of their lives.

He had even tailored individual inheritances for each of them. For Hannah, who would likely burn through a lump sum in months, he had set up a system to deposit a fixed amount into her account every month. Amy did not even need money anymore; he planned to gift her with Dungeon-exclusive materials useful in making cosmetics and beauty products instead.

As for the assets left over after compensating his comrades for following him this far, he intended to pass them on to others who had helped him: like the old Forest Apothecary lady, and Camille. Every clause, every contingency, had already been written out and secured in the Guild’s vault. There would be no disputes.

He had once thought about personally choosing a successor to replace him as Healer, but in the end, he decided against it; it was better for the remaining members to decide. Still, he had left behind a technical manual packed with everything he had learned from his own career, and he trusted that at least his three former students would carve the future path for Healers. There was no longer any need for him to be on the front lines.

[Maybe this is how the others felt when they retired from Live Dungeon…]

He had been the last one to stick with the game. As each friend departed, whether due to entrance exams, job hunting, or marriage, they often left behind parting gifts. At the time, Tsutomu had only wanted them to stay. He did not care about items or gear. But now, standing at the threshold himself, he finally understood their hearts.

Quitting was inevitable in online games. But here, in this world, the Explorers would keep pushing through the Dungeon. In a way, it was the no-retirement MMO Tsutomu had always dreamed of. That endless progression… perhaps that would truly be living the dream. But even then, he could not bear the guilt of turning away from reality forever.

[I never thought I would retire on anything other than a server shutdown, but… maybe this way is better.]

Tsutomu could never bring himself to quit Live Dungeon on his own; it would’ve felt like erasing all the time and effort he’d poured into it, and discarding the memories and items entrusted to him by his Friends. That thought alone had kept him going.

But maybe, in this new world, he had finally found a sense of closure. Unlike the lonely evenings he’d spent two years ago, grinding solo, this time he could look forward to the notion of retirement.

[If the way home isn’t there, well, I’ll just laugh. Then I’ll push through the Secret Dungeon. Retirement can wait a little longer.]

He twirled the blue feather quill between his fingers. It was a gift from Hannah, now polished and reshaped by an artisan into a fine writing instrument. Listening to the laughter and lively chatter of his Clan, still deep in discussion with their fellow professionals, Tsutomu leaned back in his chair with a wistful smile.