A little earlier.
At first, when the meteor shower streaked across the horizon, Wade hadn't thought much of it — just an ordinary natural phenomenon, in his estimation.
Even learning it would continue for several days had only left him marveling at how remarkable this magical world could be.
Later, discovering that this once-in-a-century meteor shower happened to coincide with a festival in the outside world, he'd started wondering whether Sein Dungeon should undergo some corresponding shift to match the festive mood.
Something like a limited-time event, maybe.
Turning it over further, though, he'd decided a limited-time event might read as too "modern" a concept for this world's people. Worried they wouldn't quite know how to receive it, he'd let the idea drop.
Unexpectedly, on the very night he'd shelved it, a letter arrived from Red Fang Dungeon.
Wade still remembered the time several dungeons had teamed up to hunt down the Sealed Object — the Lord of Red Fang Dungeon, "Red Fang," had left him with a genuinely good impression. Something about an old man who cared, sincerely, about the younger generation.
"Did something escape again? Or does he want me to lecture another dungeon?"
Only opening the letter revealed that Red Fang's proposal had nothing to do with either guess.
[To all dungeons with whom I've established contact]
[A once-in-a-century meteor shower has arrived. Tradition holds that when the outside world experiences something special, dungeons undergo a corresponding short-term shift of their own. This time, I'd like to invite everyone to take part together. If you're interested, please reply.]
[I call it "tradition," but truthfully, it's been over two hundred years since any Dungeon Lord actually organized something like this. When I first became a Dungeon Lord, these events still happened regularly. With this meteor shower as an opening, I thought I might take a trip down memory lane, relive a little of my own childhood. If everyone's willing to join in and have some fun, I've also prepared gifts in return.]
Good grief. A genuine mass email.
Just how far did Red Fang's connections actually reach?
What genuinely surprised Wade, though, was discovering that this world already held a concept resembling a "limited-time event" at all.
That caught him fully off guard.
He turned back and spent a considerable stretch of time combing through his Knowledge Crystals, but found nothing on record. Kid, the Lord of Val Dungeon, apparently had never documented anything about it either.
An event like this was something Wade — a man who genuinely loved a lively occasion — could never bring himself to pass on. He replied to Red Fang immediately.
Before long, an invitation to meet in person arrived back.
The meeting location: Red Fang's own residence, drowning in gold and stuffed with every stereotypical bit of dragon imagery imaginable. As a fellow Dungeon Lord's private space, it dwarfed Wade's own by an absurd margin — probably a natural consequence of Red Fang's own sheer scale.
By the time Wade arrived, quite a few genuinely strange-looking Dungeon Lords had already gathered.
At the very front, the massive Red Fang gripped a delicate quill carefully in his claws, writing with real focus. Finish one letter, send it, immediately begin the next.
Impressive. So the "mass email" was actually handwritten, one stroke at a time.
Before Wade could cross the room to greet his host, a dazzling, rainbow-colored figure came barreling over and bumped straight into him.
"Aldwin! We meet again!"
Rainbow Horn — Lord of the Unicorn Dungeon, famous these days for its "marriage checkups."
Unicorns were supposed to carry themselves with elegance, and yet somehow Rainbow Horn had mastered the art of moving with an incredibly goofy, meme-worthy energy. The rainbow-colored horn on his head spun and flashed like an active neon sign — genuinely reminiscent of one of those rotating barber-pole signs outside a barbershop.
"Been a while. Looks like you're doing well."
Wade nodded.
In truth, the two of them still exchanged letters occasionally, so it hadn't really been that long a gap.
Rainbow Horn's cheerful greeting drew several heads in the room around, whispers spreading quickly.
"That's him? The design genius Sticky-Mum won't stop talking about?"
(Sticky-Mum being the Slime Dungeon Lord from before.)
"Hearing about someone a hundred times still isn't the same as seeing them once. He genuinely looks impressive. Should we form a group and ask him for tips later?"
"Count me in. I finally pried a little of Aldwin's design knowledge out of Sticky-Mum, but after I applied it, a whole batch of adventurers just stopped showing up entirely. Genuinely depressed about it."
Wade heard every word of it, naturally.
The corner of his mouth curled up.
Genuine pleasure at the reception.
After Rainbow Horn chatted with him a while longer, he continued.
"Those dungeon-design methods you taught me before — I've thought them over, and they don't really suit my setup. My dungeon doesn't really cater to people going on real adventures in the first place. Sorry for making you spend all that time on a design I never ended up using."
Wade shook his head.
"I was just tossing out casual suggestions. Developing your own approach is a genuinely good thing. What matters is finding what actually fits you."
"Mm-hmm. Oh — right. I never used them myself, but plenty of other Dungeon Lords have been copying them lately."
Rainbow Horn leaned in, lowering his voice.
"People write to me constantly, asking for advice. Everyone wants to know exactly what you told us that day. Heh — I feed them a couple of lines and they light right up."
They're probably just being polite with you.
Wade smiled.
The dungeon-design philosophies he'd shared were, admittedly, somewhat unusual — but he'd never assumed they were profound enough to leave other Dungeon Lords genuinely confused.
They'd simply been missing an opportunity to actually change. Given a little guidance, they'd naturally start trending toward more... hellish.
Their eventual creativity might well end up outpacing anything Sein Dungeon had produced.
Because Sein's real advantage had never come down to raw insane cruelty. Its actual edge was simply that the rewards were good enough —
Good enough that people forgot the pain that came with them.
"That said, a few Dungeon Lords mentioned that copying Sein's methods directly actually shrank their visitor count. Adventurers apparently kept complaining it was too difficult."
Rainbow Horn grinned.
"Haven't run into that problem myself, though. Even more people show up now. Couples are actually lining up outside."
This time, confusion belonged entirely to Wade.
"Why?"
"Because once adventurers can't cut it anymore, they go home, settle down, get married, become farmers. And before marrying, naturally, people want to test their partner's loyalty first, right? So they all end up coming to me."
"..."
Making a dungeon more hellish had apparently increased the marriage rate. That was genuinely something Wade had never seen coming.
Without him fully noticing — exactly how far had the "Sein experience" spread by now?
"Why has no other Dungeon Lord ever come straight to me?" he wondered aloud. "Why does everyone funnel through Rainbow Horn instead?"
"Because everyone assumes Masters don't much care for socializing, so nobody dares approach directly."
Fair enough, honestly.
Wade genuinely hadn't checked his correspondence in far too long — too consumed with dungeon upkeep.
"I should go greet the man of the hour."
Wade waved farewell to Rainbow Horn and made his way over to Red Fang.
Despite unmistakably being a full-sized dragon, Red Fang continued gripping a pen in his claws with a distinct, almost stubborn determination visible in his eyes.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Red Fang. Still not finished with the letters? Wouldn't magic make this considerably faster?"
"Simply a habit left over from my human days."
Red Fang noticed him and offered a smile carrying real gentlemanly warmth.
"Besides — isn't a personally written letter simply more sincere? I've always insisted on doing it this way."
Remembering his own habit of using Writing Magic through a proxy scribe, Wade felt a small pang of genuine embarrassment.
"Sit a while. Let's wait a bit longer — once nobody else is arriving, we'll begin."
Red Fang waved a claw, and the gold coins scattered across the floor melted together, reforming into a chair.
Wade didn't stand on ceremony. He sat down beside Red Fang and settled into conversation.
The other Dungeon Lords watched the exchange, and Wade's reputation climbed another notch as a result. Not everyone could sit this casually beside Red Fang — most simply couldn't withstand the sheer oppressive weight of the dragon's presence.
Eventually, Red Fang finished the last of his letters, then summoned two exceptionally beautiful female dragons to massage his sore claws.
Wade studied them for a moment and quietly arrived at his own assessment.
Neither one holds a candle to Mizutsune, honestly.
After roughly two hours of waiting, with Dungeon Lords continuing to trickle in throughout, Red Fang finally cleared his throat twice and prepared to speak.
By then, more than forty had gathered.
Combined, their influence blanketed nearly every stretch of human continent that could see this particular meteor shower. Every one of them a prodigy in their own right among Dungeon Lords, and very few of them held human forms at all.
Several were shaped in ways Wade genuinely didn't know how to describe.
Simply too strange.
Guess this is the full roster.
Red Fang looked genuinely satisfied — probably having expected an even thinner turnout.
"Thank you all for joining me in a little foolishness," Red Fang said, clearly pleased.
"I've already worked out how this mutation should be designed. Since everyone's willing to make a little noise with me — I'll personally cover the mana every one of you spends throughout the event."
The declaration earned a full round of applause from the gathering. Those without hands to clap simply cheered instead.
Even Wade found himself thinking, this guy is absurdly rich.
Is this what a hundred years of accumulation actually looks like?
Watching him now, though, Red Fang felt less like the imposing figure he'd first appeared and more like a lonely elder, genuinely unconcerned with the mana expense, mostly just wanting the younger generation to keep him company and have a little fun.
Even Red Fang seemed swept up in the atmosphere himself. He let out a satisfied little hum and launched eagerly into explaining his plan.
Wade listened through the whole thing, then boiled it down to something simpler.
In short: Red Fang wanted to create a fantasy-world version of Quidditch.
He'd supply every participating dungeon with a monster type — Meteor Fairies. Small, fast, capable of turning invisible. Anyone struck by one would, without fail, end up with a hole somewhere on their body. A large enough swarm flying together would visually replicate a meteor shower.
Red Fang would release the Meteor Fairies into all participating dungeons, weaving them directly into adventurers' ongoing battles. Anyone who captured one could exchange it for rewards at a dedicated Meteor Altar, established specifically within each dungeon.
And Red Fang Dungeon would personally cover every unit of mana spent on those rewards.
"And then?" Wade asked.
He genuinely wanted to know what else, beyond the fantasy-Quidditch premise, Red Fang had actually planned.
"And then? That's it. Nothing else."
Red Fang blinked.
"Doesn't that feel a little thin on content?"
Wade blinked back.
"Thin? This is more or less how it always ran in the past."
"..."
"Does anyone have anything they'd like to add?"
The other Dungeon Lords began murmuring among themselves.
Before they could land on anything concrete, Wade raised a hand.
Red Fang's gaze locked onto him instantly.
Something told him this one was about to have "good" ideas.
Genuine anticipation settled over his expression. The rest of the gathering turned to look at Wade too.
"For something as rare as a once-in-a-century meteor shower, how could we possibly skip a World Boss?" Wade said.
"World Boss?"
Unfamiliar terminology — but it landed with real weight regardless.
"Basically — every dungeon releases the exact same powerful boss-level monster, simultaneously. Every adventurer across the world contributes toward bringing it down, and rewards get distributed afterward based on damage dealt and overall participation. What do you all think?"
The gathering genuinely fell silent for a moment.
Then, from somewhere in the crowd —
"That's... actually a genuinely clever angle."
"Worth trying, I think. Break entirely from tradition."
"But wouldn't that clash with my dungeon's own story and setting?"
"How would we even release something like that?"
The conversation swelled, voices layering over each other.
Red Fang thought it over before speaking again.
"A genuinely novel proposal, but plenty of implementation problems remain. Any other ideas? Let's hear everything, all at once."
The Dungeon Lords, apparently, intended to fully drain Wade's inspiration before even discussing feasibility.
"Capturing Meteor Fairies for rewards is solid on its own — but should we add some randomness to it?"
"Randomness? The rewards themselves are random?" Rainbow Horn asked.
"No — I mean the rewards themselves stay fixed. But figuring out how to actually obtain the specific reward you want becomes the puzzle."
"Huh? I genuinely don't follow that at all."
Wade pushed up a pair of nonexistent glasses.
"We dye the Meteor Fairies different colors. Red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, purple — the full spectrum."
"Dye them?"
"Different colors trade for different rewards. Take it further — different combinations of colors, different quantities, each producing its own distinct reward. Let the adventurers work out the exchange formulas themselves. The unknown, after all, is the single greatest driver of exploration."
"Brilliant!"
Rainbow Horn shouted first, hooves clapping together with genuine excitement.
"What else? What else?"
The Dungeon Lords pressed him for more.
"Plenty more where that came from!"
Wade had, by now, fully caught the room's contagious energy — once he started talking, momentum carried him forward.
"Random encounters, score-based leaderboards, exclusive titles..."
Whether any of it fit the theme cleanly was beside the point.
Might as well throw every idea onto the table and see what stuck.