Live Dungeon!

“…Ah.”

The first thing Tsutomu saw when he opened his eyes was a keyboard, carefully covered to prevent dust buildup, its placement on the table optimized for smooth operation. Nearby sat an empty energy drink can. That detail alone made it real; he was back in the real world.

Blinking against the harsh glow of the monitor, his first in quite some time, he squinted and checked the date displayed on-screen. It matched his memory; it was still summer break. Judging by the calendar, it must have been the day after he had cleared the hundredth layer of Live Dungeon solo.

[So… it really wasn’t just some long dream.]

He slowly pushed himself upright, his body feeling like it was made of lead. When he looked down at his clothes, they were the same ones he had worn in the other world. It was his white robe, his gear. It was not a dream. The lingering weight of them on his shoulders affirmed it.

If he had woken up in his usual clothes, with no trace of those years, he might have started doubting everything. But now, with these remnants from that world still here, the doubt had no room to take root.

[I could go for something really Japanese right now…] He thought. [Didn’t I buy some food ages ago…?]

After carefully storing away the white robe and the absurdly heavy Magic Bag, he changed into loose, comfortable clothes. Then he found a near-expired packet of instant miso soup in the cupboard, along with a bowl of microwave rice, and began to prepare a simple meal.

[God damn, rice tastes amazing…]

The familiar taste brought with it a strange, warming comfort, like a Japanese tourist returning home after years abroad. Every bite was filled with the joy of rediscovery.

[Still, now that I’m back, I already feel some regret. And man, my body’s heavy…]

The tight, unrelenting anxiety that had pushed him toward returning was gone… but in its place, other regrets settled in. His body was the very picture of an unhealthy no-lifer: years of physical neglect, poor sleep from staring at screens all day, a diet made up of instant meals and energy drinks, and a willpower that had masked the decline with caffeine and adrenaline. He had never noticed the deterioration before, only because it had always been his norm… but now, after years of active life in another world, the difference was staggering.

Worse still, after living alongside others for nearly two years, the silence of his room felt oppressively lonely. He longed to speak to someone, anyone , about something real. But in this world, there was no one close enough for that.

And perhaps more than anything else, the absence of a Dungeon, a place where he could prove himself, left him hollow. Without that, what was he even supposed to do?

Unable to stand it any longer, Tsutomu found himself taking a train to his parents’ house, which he had not visited since starting university. It was already growing dark, but the loneliness gnawed too deeply to ignore.

The world outside the window felt oddly vivid, almost surreally so. He stared at the cars on the road with fascination, his gaze trailing over pedestrians in fashionable clothes and suits more fancy than the best the other world had to offer, as if seeing them for the first time. Sweat clung to his skin, not just from the summer heat but rather from the sheer effort of movement. The lack of exercise was taking its toll.

“Huh… Tsutomu!?” His mother exclaimed upon seeing him at the door. “What’s going on? You could’ve at least texted us that you’d come!”

“Ah… yeah, sorry ’bout that, Mom.”

“You’re drenched in sweat! Come on, you’d better take a shower!”

She looked stunned to see him after so long, but welcomed him without hesitation.

Truth be told, reuniting with family had only been a small part of his decision to return. But now, standing face to face with his mother, Tsutomu felt a surprising swell of emotion. Enough to make him glad he had come back, if only for a while.

He stayed the night, resting in the home he had not seen for years. The next day, feeling a little more grounded, he promised his mother he would visit again soon and returned to his apartment. Once there, he sat down at his desk, facing his eccentric quint-wield gaming setup, and rested his hand on the main mouse.

[Maybe if I clear the Dungeon again, I’ll find some kind of clue. Still… I’ll need to practice a bit. My fingers aren’t keeping up.]

He could not quite let go of the possibility, and so, Tsutomu began to set up once more, one desktop and four laptops, his old solo-party formation. But two years away from it had dulled his precision. Smooth multitasking did not come as easily now.

“Heal… Medic… Man, I sound like a lunatic.”

Tsutomu found himself mumbling skills’ names aloud each time he operated the Healer. Watching himself from an external perspective, he could not help but cringe. Still, within two or three days, the feel for it came back to him, and he resumed his laptop quintuple-wielding attempts at the hundredth layer.

[No good…]

After about a week, he managed another clear the hundredth layer with his personal party setup. But nothing happened. There was no phenomenon, no trigger. Shoulders sagging with disappointment, he shut all the laptops he had borrowed. It was not just the silence that got to him, but also the absurdity of it. Some godlike being had pulled him into another world without so much as a warning, and now offered no explanation, no follow-up. Just… nothing.

[I’ll keep trying until Live Dungeon shuts down for good. If nothing happens by then, I’ll leave the rest to Garm and the others… in which case, I’ll have to spend the next three years preparing as much as I can. First up… no way I’ll last long with this body. I gotta go back to the basics, reviewing the stuff Garm taught me…]

As it was, his body barely responded the way he wanted it to. His brain did not function properly without caffeine. He was addicted, sluggish, and brittle. In that state, he could not even hope to unearth a path back through Live Dungeon.

So he started over, training a body that could barely handle two pushups without gasping. At the same time, he combed through Live Dungeon for any sign, any hidden trigger. But he found nothing. And time marched on toward the inevitable.

And so came the last day…

[Huh. Figured I’d be alone with just the bots, but… turns out people still showed up for the end. Not that anything special happened.]

To his surprise, a few players had logged into the main server. Maybe out of nostalgia, maybe for closure. But none stayed long. A few brief chats, a few silent goodbyes. And then one by one, they vanished.

And so, at 0:00, Live Dungeon officially ended its service.

Tsutomu was forcibly logged out, left staring at a blank screen.

[And so I’ve got no leads to investigate… What now?]

He had examined the robe, the staff, and the Magic Bag, which now amounted to little more than a cloth pouch full of gold coins. But none of it gave him a clue, no glimmer of otherworldly power, no divine whisper. Just mundane things.

[If I’m really getting called back in three years… I need to be ready. First, I really should at least pay my parents for the tuition. But can I even earn enough in just three years? If these gold coins could be exchanged, I’d be covered on that, but they’re practically untraceable. No choice but to figure this out myself.]

Thankfully, his parents had more than enough savings to put him through four years of university and support his living expenses. So that part was covered. The real problem was what to do when he inevitably had to leave again.

Maybe… just maybe… if he explained things honestly, they would understand. His parents were far more grounded than someone like Diniel, all things considered.

And compared to the time he’d had to fight a version of the Corroded Elder Dragon he’d never known, things were not so bad now. Even if he could not earn much, he would not die. There was time; he could still act.

In fact, he was honestly more worried about what would happen after he returned. He had lied through his teeth to Diniel before he left. When and if he returned, she might very well kill him. Amira and Leleia would not take it lightly either. He had not exactly left things on good terms with Xeno, and as for Korinna… would she really be able to handle being the primary Healer of Absolute Helix?

Garm might still be there. But it was entirely possible that the Clan had disbanded. Even if it had not, everyone would have still progressed deeper down the Dungeon. Catching up to the frontliners would be even harder the second time around.

[And honestly, I can’t even tell which world is the real one anymore…]

Muttering to himself, Tsutomu packed his things and stepped out the front door, beginning preparations for whatever would come three years from now.