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Translator: TipToe
Translator (September 30, 2024 Version): Barnnn
Four days had passed since Tsutomu’s party resumed their journey from the twenty-first layer, and they now found themselves standing on the brink of the forty-first.
“Whoa! The sea! I can smell it!” Tsutomu exclaimed, his voice laced with wonder as the scent of salt filled his lungs.
Before him stretched the emerald expanse of ocean, its surface glittering under the sunlight. Behind him, Garm and Amy stood in quiet awe, their eyes wide.
They had never thought they would come this far, this quickly. Garm and Amy had braced themselves for a grueling descent, expecting to barely scrape past the fortieth layer.
The earlier sections, with their Grasslands and Forests, had been perfectly manageable. The Swamps and Wastelands, however, had tested them a fair bit — There, they battled through hostile terrain and debilitating status effects. Even seasoned fighters like Garm and Amy found fewer enemies they could defeat with ease. It seemed inevitable that Tsutomu, mere weeks into his career, would die at least a few times to the perils of the Swamps, halting their progress altogether.
Many Explorers met their end in the Swamps — caught unprepared by the creeping poison, swallowed by unseen bogs, their minds undone by the disorienting gloom. Yet Tsutomu’s resolve had not wavered. Garm had taken it upon himself to teach Tsutomu everything he knew, hoping to fortify him before they faced the more treacherous depths. He thought, at best, he could lift Tsutomu’s abilities to level 40 — the point at which he would not succumb to the Swamp’s slow death — before pushing any further.
But Tsutomu had other plans. Drawing from his past experiences in the game and bolstered by a wealth of resources, he had prepared for the Swamps in ways Garm and Amy had not foreseen. Though he stumbled at first — mired in the thick muck, face-first in the dirt — he had swiftly adapted. That brief misstep was his only one.
It was in the Swamp that Tsutomu’s unique strategy began to shine. The formation he had proposed — Tank, Attacker, Healer — came alive, each role seamlessly complementing the other. Garm, with his high VIT as a Knight, absorbed the brunt of the monsters’ fury. Amy, the agile Dualblader, carved her way through their foes. And Tsutomu, ever vigilant, kept them both standing with his healing and support spells.
His <<Heal>> and <<High Heal>> spells knitted Garm’s wounds with pinpoint accuracy, while the poison and other status effects that plagued the party were swiftly neutralized by Tsutomu’s newly learned <<Medic>> skill. When Garm unleashed his powerful <<Combat Cry>>, monsters rarely had a chance to break away and attack Tsutomu. But even when some did slip through, Tsutomu held his own — buying precious time with his attacking skills until Garm or Amy intervened.
Tsutomu seemed to move with a preternatural understanding of the battlefield, evading the bosses’ devastating attacks as if he foresaw each one. Not a moment was wasted. Healing, clearing status effects, avoiding his own death — it all seemed effortless.
And it wasn’t just his skills that kept them ahead. Tsutomu had prepared Potions, gear, and tools for every layer’s quirks. His foresight allowed Garm to focus entirely on defense, while Amy could unleash her full fury. Together, they had torn through the Swamps, conquering the treacherous terrain and its relentless threats in a mere two days.
In the desolate expanse of the Wasteland, where the first stirrings of the undead rose from the cracked earth, Tsutomu had been just as meticulous in his preparations. With tools ready and strategies laid out in advance, their progress through the layers had been smooth.
Despite Tsutomu’s current level being a mere 20, a fact that should have spelled disaster, the impossible was unfolding before Garm and Amy’s very eyes. Neither of them had ever heard of anyone challenging the fortieth layer at such a low level — It defied everything they knew. Typically, Explorers would grind their way to the upper limits of each set of layers before even contemplating moving forward. Yet here they were, advancing as if the very laws of the Dungeon bent in Tsutomu’s favor.
For Garm and Amy, who had both once reached the forty-ninth layer, this was nothing short of miraculous. Both had been defeated by the final Beach layer’s formidable boss, a wall neither had been able to break through since.
It wasn’t as if they were weak, either; that progress, earned through sheer determination, as well as their individual qualities — Amy with her sharp appraisal eye, and Garm through his unshakeable skill and sense of justice — had earned them invitations to become Guild staff members.
“Can we touch the water?” Tsutomu’s voice broke the silence, his finger pointing to the sea stretched out before them. In that instant, both Garm and Amy stood frozen, side by side, completely at a loss for words.
“Ah…” Garm stammered.
“……” Amy remained silent.
Tsutomu looked from one to the other, a slight furrow in his brow. “Garm? Amy? …Ah, sorry. You two must be exhausted. Let’s call it a day.”
His voice softened as if he had reached an understanding on his own, and with gentle insistence, he guided the two back toward the Black Gate. Without resistance, they followed, their bodies dissolving into shimmering particles as they were transported back to the Guild.
Upon materializing at the Guild’s Black Gate, Tsutomu greeted the Dragonewt gatekeeper with a polite nod. “Good to see you.”
The Dragonewt, as always, gave only a silent nod in return — gatekeepers had little interest in those who had not fallen in the Dungeon, not when they lacked the telltale flaxen garb of the defeated. Tsutomu’s attention, however, quickly shifted to his companions, both of whom remained dazed, as if still trapped in the memory of their recent triumphs.
“Today must’ve been hard on you both. I’m sorry if I pushed too much. Maybe we should take a break tomorrow — and the day after, too.” Tsutomu said, and proceeded to hand each of them a high-quality Medium Magic Stone. “Here, as a thank-you,” he added before excusing himself.
Garm and Amy stood, clutching the stones in their hands, their bewilderment deepening.
They proceeded to exchange confused glances.
“This is insane!” Amy burst out at last, her voice brimming with disbelief. “Three of us — forty layers in four days — and I haven’t died once! How are we doing this? When did YOU get this strong!? You have to tell me!”
“Calm down…” Garm muttered, though he himself seemed barely composed. Amy’s white hair, falling to her shoulders, whipped about as she leaned in, her words flying at Garm like bolts of lightning. Overwhelmed, Garm pressed his hands against his dog ears, as though hoping to muffle the storm.
“When did you manage to move deeper down!? Weren’t you stuck guarding the gate all this time, Garm?”
“My progress is the same as yours — Beach biome, the last layer. And I’m capped at level 60, like you.”
“Huh? Then did I get stronger…? Nah, who am I kidding? If anything, I’ve gotten rusty,” Amy muttered, releasing Garm’s shoulders. Her once-perky white-furred tail drooped, reflecting the disappointment in her voice.
Garm sighed heavily, running a hand through his tousled hair in an attempt to straighten it.
“If you think about it, the answer’s obvious. It’s because of Tsutomu.”
“Wait, what? I mean, sure, those long-range <<Heal>> shots of his are a neat party trick, but that’s it, right? Oh, but those Potions and Holy Water he gave us — those were amazing! They’re the high-grade ones from the Forest Apothecary lady, aren’t they? I haven’t used mine yet, but I’ve heard they even taste good, unlike the common junk! He really went all out.”
“……”
Garm fell quiet, lost in his thoughts. Amy’s words hung in the air, and it took a moment before the frustration twisted her face. She clenched her fists, her lips trembling as she forced out the admission she had clearly struggled with.
“…You know, maybe it’s because you’re good at this.”
“What?”
“Ugh, don’t make me spell it out! I’m saying it’s thanks to you! All the monsters went after you, and you didn’t even die! Even though I’m out of practice, it was easy for me to take them down! Sure, Tsutomu’s Potions helped, but you are the one who made it all easier!”
“What’s gotten into you? Did the Swamp’s poison rot your brain?”
“Aagh! Don’t look at me like that, you idiot!” Amy snapped, turning her back to him, her golden eyes narrowing in irritation.
Meanwhile, Garm, caught off guard by her sudden praise, struggled to regain his composure. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, trying to piece his words together.
“You might not see it, but it’s obvious to me. Listen — yes, I got Potions from Tsutomu, but I didn’t use a single one. He handled all the healing by himself.”
“Whaaaat? But Tsutomu’s MND is still only D+, right? There’s no way he could’ve kept up.”
“He’s probably using Blue Potions to restore his mental energy. And those <<Heal>> shots of his — they’re remarkable.”
“Hmm… but in the end, he’s still relying on Potions, right? So whether he’s casting <<Heal>> or you’re drinking Potions, doesn’t it all balance out the same?”
Garm’s expression darkened at Amy’s offhand comment, and she quickly waved her hands in apology, backtracking in haste.
“Whoa, whoa, chill! I mean, Tsutomu is amazing, okay? I don’t think anyone else could’ve made it to the Beach without dying, especially at such a low level. It’s unheard of!”
“…Talking won’t help. You’ll just have to see for yourself.” Garm’s voice carried a new firmness as he pointed directly at her, an idea clearly taking shape in his mind. “Next time we go into the Dungeon, you’re going to be the Tank.”
“Tank? I don’t know what you’re talking about, but no way. That sounds like a huge pain.”
“Tsutomu says a Tank needs high VIT and threat-generating skills. I’m not sure he’ll agree, but you should give it a shot. Then you’ll understand what I mean.”
“Don’t go making decisions for me, you oversized mutt! I can’t just stand around like you!” Amy huffed, dismissing his suggestion with a flick of her wrist. But even as she turned away, her eyes lingered on the Medium Magic Stone in her hand. “…Wow, this one’s top quality!” she exclaimed with awe.
Behind her, Garm watched with a sigh, resigned to her nonexistent attention span.
――▽▽――
In the heart of Dungeon City, the central plaza thrummed with life. A massive Monitor dominated the square, streaming live footage from deep within the Dungeon. Nobles stood shoulder to shoulder with beggars, all eyes fixed on the screen as it displayed the perils and triumphs of the Explorers. Food stalls and shops bustled like a makeshift marketplace surrounding the gathering.
Though several large Monitors were scattered throughout the city, none drew as much attention as the giant screen in the plaza, known to locals as Pedestal #1. It showcased the exploits of the party that had delved the deepest into the Dungeon, making it the focal point for anyone craving excitement.
The other large Monitors, numbered #2 through #10, offered glimpses of teams fighting their way down in ascending order. Even the medium-sized displays like Monitor #30 attracted their own viewers, none could rival the spectacle of the first pedestal.
Tsutomu sat on a nearby bench, absently chewing a skewer of roasted pork as his gaze remained fixed on one of the smaller screens. His narrow eyes squinted slightly, a smear of sauce marking the bridge of his nose, forgotten in his concentration.
From early morning until now, his attention had been glued to Monitor #30, which covered the first thirty layers. His hand moved quickly, scribbling notes.
[The Poison Spider’s webs are flammable…] Tsutomu jotted down, the pen scratching across the paper.
His experience with Live Dungeon had already proven invaluable. The monsters’ attack patterns, their weaknesses — most of it mirrored what he had encountered in the game. While the Dungeon’s layout wasn’t an exact replica, there were enough similarities to guide him through the treacherous depths.
But even as familiar strategies surfaced, Tsutomu had begun noticing deviations. The monsters behaved unpredictably, veering away from the rigid patterns he’d memorized. These sudden shifts that made his game-honed instincts falter — they had caught him off-guard at times.
Even on the first layer, the Goblins and Kobolds had acted in ways he’d never expected, and with each new encounter, his certainty eroded. His gaming knowledge would only carry him so far.
For now, he was fortunate to have Garm and Amy, a capable Tank and a swift Attacker, by his side. Their skill helped mask his gaps in knowledge, but he couldn’t forget they were temporary allies, on loan from the Guild. Their presence, much like his unflattering nickname — ‘Lucky Boy’ — was a tenuous arrangement, resting on the hope that his reputation might eventually shift.
With both time and resources on his side, Tsutomu resolved to make the most of the opportunity. He had even forgone one of his precious rest days to spend hours here, gathering every scrap of information he could about the Dungeon.
At last, his memo papers ran dry. Sighing, Tsutomu returned the used skewer to the vendor and began his walk back to the Guild, his mood weighed down by what awaited him there.
Sure enough, as he stepped into the Guild’s bustling hall, the familiar sneers greeted him. “Hey, Lucky Boy!” came a call, as it had every day for the past seventeen days. The taunt echoed from the new recruits, their enthusiasm for the insult undiminished. Tsutomu kept his face impassive, treating the jeers like distant chatter as he approached the reception desk, focused only on restocking his supplies.
After replenishing his memo paper, Tsutomu was about to leave the Guild when raised voices drew his attention toward the Black Gate.
“Why am I only getting Magic Stone Scraps!?” a young man shouted.
“Ha! What are you, a rookie? That’s all a Healer’s worth!” an older Explorer jeered, his lips curling into a sneer.
“This isn’t even enough to cover a night at the inn! You’ve got to be joking!” the youth snapped.
“You should’ve asked about the split before you agreed to join,” another veteran replied coldly.
Tsutomu sighed. The scene was all too familiar — a quarrel over rewards after a Dungeon run. A young, raggedly dressed Explorer was squaring off against three older men, each clad in well-worn armor.
“And you didn’t even recover my gear! You owe me for that!” the youth pressed, his desperation bleeding into his words.
“Hey, you died! That’s on you. Party’s disbanded. Now get lost!” One of the older Explorers spat, turning his back as though the matter were settled.
Before the argument could escalate further, a Guild staff member strode over. “What’s going on here?”
The older Explorer flashed a greasy smile, rubbing his hands together in mock humility.
“Just a little disagreement. The kid’s whining about the payout, but it’s all fair.”
“They tricked me!” the young man protested.
“…I’ll need to see your Status Cards. All of you,” the Guild staffer promptly said.
One by one, the four Explorers pricked their fingers, letting a few drops of blood fall onto a slip of paper. The staff member gathered the papers and went behind the counter, returning a moment later with their Status Cards, cross-checking each against the bloody marks.
“The agreed split is three shares for Attackers, one for the Healer,” the staffer announced. “Now, hand over the Magic Stones you’ve earned.”
”Yeah, yeah.”
The older men complied without complaint. The youth, however, did so reluctantly. The staff member quickly counted the stones, and then compared them to the records on their cards. Satisfied, he handed the cards back.
“Everything matches. No issues with the payout,” the staffer said briskly.
“But my gear! What about that!?” the young man interjected, his desperation flaring again.
“Items left unattended in the Dungeon for more than thirty minutes disappear naturally. If you died during combat, it’s likely your equipment wasn’t recovered in time. That’s your responsibility.”
“You’ve got to be kidding! I paid 10,000 Gold to register with the Guild, and this is how I’m treated!?”
“Failure to verify the payout beforehand and ignorance of Dungeon protocol — consider this a cheap lesson,” the staffer’s eyes narrowed. “Keep making a scene, and I’ll have you thrown out.”
The young man’s face twisted with helpless rage. “Damn it! Damn it all!” he snarled, storming off, the sound of mocking laughter trailing in his wake.
Tsutomu watched in silence, another sigh escaping him. The young man’s fate was all too predictable. Out in the city, without proper support or knowledge, he wouldn’t fare any better. This was the unyielding truth of Dungeon City — naive Explorers, lured in by dreams of fame and fortune, rushing headlong into the Dungeon only to be exploited by those whose only redeeming feature was experience. The Guild, ever maintaining its facade of impartiality, rarely lifted a finger to protect them from such exploitation.
“God, I hate this place…” Tsutomu muttered, the bitter taste of disillusionment lingering as he left the Guild behind and made his way back toward the lively market beneath the ever-present glow of the Monitors.
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