Live Dungeon! – Chapter 18, Camille’s Expectations

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Translator: TipToe

Translator (November 7, 2024 Version): Barnnn

 

When the three of them returned to the Guild, Camille was swiftly escorted back to her duties by a middle-aged man waiting for her at the Black Gate. With little to occupy himself, Tsutomu mulled over the idea of heading into town to catch a broadcast, but Garm stopped him short.

 

“I’ll send someone from the Guild to check the situation in town. Stay here for now.”

 

Without waiting for a reply, Garm strode off toward the reception desk, leaving Tsutomu alone. As he watched him disappear into the crowd, three familiar figures emerged — those same men who had harassed him the other day. Sneers twisted their faces, as though they had been lying in wait for this moment.

 

“Hey, Lucky Boy — no, Criminal Boy, is it now?”

 

“Looks like you’re famous! The whole town’s talking about you!”

 

“Bastard!”

 

Laughter rippled through the nearby onlookers, eyes gleaming with mockery now that Garm wasn’t there to shield him. Raising a hand, Tsutomu gave a sarcastic shake of his head, letting the ridicule roll off his back.

 

“Didn’t expect gossip to spread this far. Loos like the swarm of useless bugs here has been hard at work.”

 

One of the men scoffed. “Hah! The whole Explorer community’s fed up with you. Parasites like you should go away already — you’re a stain on the Guild.”

 

“Ah, so the pests are trying to weed each other out. Saves me the effort,” Tsutomu shot back, his smile as sharp as a blade.

 

“What was that, huh!?” The nearest Explorer, face flushing with fury, grabbed Tsutomu’s collar, his eyes burning with rage.

 

But Tsutomu didn’t flinch. With an almost casual strength, he peeled the man’s hand from his shirt. His grip was steady and effortless, a subtle reminder of his higher level and a STR rating that surpassed theirs. The man blinked, caught off guard.

 

“W-what the hell…?”

 

“May you should actually do your job and gain some levels,” Tsutomu said dryly. “Losing a strength contest to a White Mage isn’t exactly a good look.”

 

“…Tch. It’s only ’cause you’re leeching off Garm!” the man snarled, his pride stung.

 

“Better that than living as cowards who prey on rookie Explorers, scavenge their kills, and rob their corpses,” Tsutomu retorted, flicking the Explorer’s hand aside with a dismissive wave.

 

The faces of the three men contorted into masks of malice. They were the sort who trailed behind stronger parties, waiting for the scent of blood — threatening the survivors when a few had fallen, or deceiving the greenhorns into paltry shares of the spoils. Pathetic scavengers, they refrained from hunting monsters on their own, leaving them low-level and weak. Tsutomu loathed them with every fiber of his being.

 

The past few weeks, he had endured their jeers and insults, refusing to retaliate no matter how far they pushed. But today, as he struck back for the first time, they flinched, their eyes flickering with uncertainty.

 

Then, as if summoned by the moment, Garm strode out from the Guild’s reception area, and the trio of vermin disappeared into the crowd. Tsutomu, his gaze chillingly void of humanity, watched them fade, before lifting his eyes toward Garm.

 

“…It looked like they were harassing you,” Garm noted, his voice dark with disapproval.

 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. They’re weaker than I am anyway,” Tsutomu replied, his tone light. “So, what’s happening in town?”

 

“Nothing unexpected — some people are getting stirred up by the news. You’d best not walk around alone for a while. We’ll need to find you a new inn, too.”

 

Tsutomu sighed. “Shame… I liked that place. Well, if you don’t mind, could you come with me to gather my things?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Garm cast a predatory glance around the Guild hall, his eyes sweeping all over like a wolf scanning for threats. The other Explorers, caught in his gaze, quickly averted their eyes, scurrying away.

 

With a grunt of disdain, he followed Tsutomu toward the building’s exit. As they walked, Garm’s footsteps fell heavy against the floor, his imposing frame and fierce eyes causing Explorers in their path to steer clear, as if instinctively avoiding a wild beast.

 

“Spineless vermin, the lot of them,” he muttered under his breath. “All talk, no honor.”

 

“Let them buzz. They don’t matter,” Tsutomu replied with a shrug, his tone calm and detached.

 

Garm blinked, caught off guard by Tsutomu’s composure, then chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing. Together, they made their way through the town, ignoring the curious and suspicious stares of passersby, until they reached Tsutomu’s inn. There, in the dim quiet of the small room, Tsutomu packed his belongings, checked out, and left without a backward glance.

 

“You can use the Guild dormitory until the news clears up,” Garm suggested, “It’s nearby, and much safer.”

 

“Works for me,” Tsutomu nodded. “Have the arrangements already been made?”

 

“Not yet, but I’ll take care of it. You can wait in my room while the paperwork is processed — it won’t take long. Surely Miss Camille will be fine with it, too. There’s plenty of space, so make yourself comfortable.”

 

“That would help a lot. Thanks.”

 

With his larger belongings that wouldn’t fit into his Magic Bag in tow, Tsutomu followed Garm to the Guild dormitory. The building was grander than the modest inn he’d been staying at, its sleek, black stone exterior exuding an air of quiet luxury and exclusivity.

 

Tsutomu hesitated at the entrance, briefly intimidated by the grandeur, but Garm strode confidently forward, beckoning him to follow. Inside, they were greeted by a spacious apartment that could have comfortably housed a family of three. Tsutomu, struck by the size, began placing his things in the bedroom.

 

Even this partition alone was a far cry from the cramped space he had rented. It not only dwarfed his previous lodging in size, but it was also fully furnished, and the bathroom even came equipped with a Magic Tool-powered tub and toilet. Guild staff members were allowed to live here free of charge — truly a tempting incentive.

 

As he unpacked, Tsutomu couldn’t resist fiddling with some of the dusty Magic Tools scattered around the room. Amused, he took his time cleaning, brushing off the dust that had settled over the months, and sweeping the floors until the space sparkled.

 

[I wish my skills worked well enough for this sort of thing,] he mused with a wry smile. [At least then I’d have something practical. But God sent me here… and He didn’t even let me use True Magic!]

 

In this world, the skills wielded by Explorers — like those listed on Tsutomu’s Status Card — and magic were two entirely separate realms. Explorer skills were fueled by one’s mental energy, or MND. True Magic, however, was a force far more esoteric. It required not just the consumption of Magic Stones to cause supernatural phenomena, but also an inherent gift coupled with vast, hard-earned knowledge. Such knowledge was jealously guarded by the nobility, who, with their bloodlines steeped in the arcane arts, kept their secrets locked away from the common folk.

 

To compensate for the general lack of magical aptitude among the populace, Magic Tools had been invented. These devices, powered by Colored Magic Stones and fueled by Colorless ones, could mimic the effects of True Magic, allowing ordinary people to wield a semblance of power.

 

Skills, however, were different. Granted to those who entered God’s Dungeon and updated their Status Cards, they required no inherent talent, only mental energy.

 

But they came with limitations. True Magic offered limitless possibilities — with a Wind Magic Stone, for example, one could summon anything from a gentle breeze to a devastating tornado, adjusting its strength, temperature, and direction at will. Skills, on the other hand, lacked that versatility. Tsutomu’s <<Air Blade>> could release a sharp gust of wind, but only in a straight line. He could control its intensity, but not its direction or purpose. Trying to use it for something as simple as dusting would leave the room marred with gashes and scratches.

 

Garm had once warned him about the dangers of confusing skills with magic. In the past, there had been stories of Explorers who made that mistake, only to meet swift retribution at the hands of offended nobles. Tsutomu had no desire to share their fate, and so he resolved to steer clear of the upper echelons of society altogether.

 

Finishing his cleaning, he placed a wooden Magic Tool back on its shelf, now gleaming from the attention it had received. After mopping the floors and wiping down the walls, he stepped back to admire his work.

 

[That felt like forever… but it’s still barely noon!]

 

With nothing left to occupy his time, Tsutomu lay down on the cool wooden floor, staring up at the sunlight spilling through the windows. The warmth felt pleasant, but it did little to quell his boredom.

 

[I wish I could go catch a live broadcast…]

 

Back when things were simpler, he’d often pass his idle hours watching Dungeon broadcasts, or wandering around the stalls near the Monitors, losing himself in the crowd. But now, with the recent commotion forcing him to lay low and avoid lingering in the Guild for too long, he suddenly found himself adrift, with nothing to do.

 

[Oh yeah, Camille just joined… I’ll have to revise our strategies. I can’t consistently refresh her <<Haste>> as consistently as with Amy, so I’ll need some new ideas. When we meet up this evening, I’ll ask her about the duration of <<Dragon Form>> and…]

 

Pulling a stack of paper from his Magic Bag, Tsutomu lay flat on the floor, pen in hand, scribbling down notes as he began to brainstorm. He hoped to come up with something workable before the sun started to set.

 

　――▽▽――

 

In the evening, Tsutomu and Garm met Camille at the Barrel Hat Pub, a lively and well-known establishment famed for its towering beer barrels and mouth-watering meat dishes, roasted to perfection in Magic Stone-fueled ovens. Once they entered, they settled into a sturdy round table meant for four and began to discuss their plans for Dungeon exploration.

 

“…So you’re aiming to go as deep as you can?” Camille asked, her gaze flicking briefly toward the waiter who had just dashed off with their order.

 

Tsutomu, needing to raise his voice to be heard over the other patrons’ boisterous chatter, leaned forward slightly. “If I don’t, I’ll never shake the ‘Lucky Boy’ nickname. I considered getting Solit Company to publish something about me, but that’s out of the question now.”

 

“I don’t think you need to go that far — if you can just reach the fifty-ninth layer, your face will appear more frequently on the Pedestals. People will start to forget the nickname on their own.”

 

“Really? Is that all it takes?” Tsutomu’s brows lifted in surprise, and he turned to Garm, who gave a resolute nod.

 

“We appeared on Pedestal #9 when we took down the Shell Crab for the first time. That must have made quite an impression. If we were a party of five, maybe the reception would have been more lukewarm — but with only three, anyone familiar with Dungeon exploration would be impressed enough to stop calling you that name by now.”

 

Tsutomu sighed, his expression half skeptical. “I don’t know… Amy seemed to think people still credit our win to dumb luck.”

 

“There’s no precedent for a Shell Crab going down that fast after emerging from its nest,” Garm replied, his tone dismissive. “Let them think what they will — it doesn’t change the facts.”

 

“Garm, you do remember you’re in my party to help get rid of the nickname, right?”

 

“……”

 

Caught off guard, Garm averted his gaze, clearly having forgotten his original mission. Tsutomu couldn’t help but chuckle. As the waiter returned with a plate of beef jerky, Tsutomu picked up a small piece, biting into the smoky, savory treat. Camille, tying back her long hair, looked down at her own piece.

 

“…Well, the Shell Crab may not be that impressive,” she admitted. “A party of three from a major Clan could handle it easily, and even mid-tier Clans could probably take it down with the right composition.”

 

“True, but…” Garm grumbled, clearly displeased as he chewed on his jerky.

 

“Don’t sulk. Things are always changing.” Camille gave him a light pat on the shoulder. “If we can get past the fifty-sixth layer — the progress point that separates the mid-tier teams from the top-tier ones — we should consistently rank in the single digits. Do that for a few months, and the nickname will fade away on its own.”

 

Tsutomu nodded slowly, though his mind remained clouded by doubt. “I thought the real problem was people accusing top-tier teams of running from the Fire Dragon. Seems like that’s all anyone talks about when it comes to the single-digit Pedestals.”

 

Monitor #1 — the prime broadcast location in the Dungeon City — was Tsutomu’s usual spot on his days off. The talk there was always the same: no one had beaten the Fire Dragon, except for the elite Scarlet Devil Squad. And until that feat was repeated, he figured the public perception wouldn’t change.

 

“That’s just Clan gossip,” Camille waved it off. “If a party of three can push to that layer, it’ll stir plenty of conversation. Besides,” she added, her lips curling into a faint smile, “I’ve already reached the fifty-eighth layer. And don’t sell yourself short — you weren’t just coasting on Garm and Amy’s strength. We can manage with just the three of us.”

 

“That’s good to hear,” Tsutomu said just as a waiter appeared with their next dish — a steaming bowl of hearty stew.

 

Chunks of tender meat, carrots, and potatoes bobbed in the rich, creamy broth. Tsutomu took the ladle, serving generous portions into deep bowls for Garm and Camille. The waiter placed a basket of freshly baked bread in the center of the table, nodded, and hurried off once more into the bustling kitchen.

 

Tsutomu proceeded to tear off a piece of the bread, dipping it into the stew to soften its crust.

 

“But what about the Fire Dragon? With your strength, Camille, we might actually stand a chance. Don’t you want to give it a try?”

 

“…Oh? Are you suggesting we take it on with just an impromptu trio? Even the Scarlet Devil Squad barely managed to defeat it with their Black Staff.”

 

“I was already planning to do it with just Garm and Amy — I knew they could handle it. And now, with you stepping in for Amy, I believe our chances of success are just as good, if not better. Still, there are a few challenges we’ll need to address first.”

 

Tsutomu took a slow bite of the stew-soaked bread, savoring the rich flavors, his gaze briefly lifting to the ceiling as he exhaled, cooling his mouth. Camille’s crimson, reptilian eyes gleamed as they fixed on him.

 

“And what are those challenges?”

 

“First, there’s the matter of coordination. You’ve only been with us for a day, so we haven’t had the chance to develop proper teamwork. Time should take care of that, though — you don’t seem to have any problems with my strategies, which helps. Second, we’ll need to figure out how to disable the Fire Dragon’s wings. Without a Black Mage or an Archer in our party, we’ll have to rely entirely on magic tools. Since our gear is limited to what fits in the Magic Bag, we’ll need to practice using those tools to bring the dragon down. And the third… is your <<Dragon Form>>. My healing and support skills can’t keep up with your speed when you transform. That makes it hard to integrate into our standard strategy. But it’d be a waste not to use it, so I’ll have to find a workaround.”

 

“…And is there nothing I can do to help with that?” Garm asked.

 

“Not that I can think of… Oh, actually, if you know where we can get some fire-resistant gear, that’d be a big help.”

 

As Tsutomu spoke, his voice muffled by a mouthful of thick stew, Garm fell into a contemplative silence, seemingly grappling with his own confusion.

 

Camille flicked her gaze between Garm and Tsutomu, the so-called Lucky Boy who had supposedly stumbled upon an extraordinary treasure that had brought him considerable fortune. His original party, hastily thrown together with Garm and Amy — sent as a subtle incentive to keep him at the Guild — had already triumphed over the formidable Shell Crab within the span of a mere month. Yet they weren’t about to stop there; now they aspired to surpass even the Fire Dragon.

 

It was an ambition that felt out of place in Dungeon City — he couldn’t have been born here. Camille, who had heard whispers of Tsutomu’s supposed orphaned past, began to wonder if he was more than he seemed. Perhaps he was a nobleman from a distant land, wielding the elusive True Magic. Or maybe he was a seasoned Explorer from an era before God’s Dungeon appeared. But, in the end, Camille wasn’t truly interested in where he came from.

 

“Heh… you’re quite an intriguing guy,” she mused, her lips curving into a smirk as her eyes glimmered. Something about him stirred a sense of excitement, as though the dungeoneering scene would soon be shaken by whatever waves he would set in motion.

 

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