Bioluminescent moss breathed its pale glow through every crack and crevice, casting just enough light to navigate the cramped tunnels and caverns. Somewhere deeper in, guttural howls and the clash of steel echoed from all directions at once.
Oppressive and dark, the kind of place where every sound felt wrong.
One of the world's three great labyrinths, sprawling endlessly beneath the maze city of Orario. The Upper Floors of the Dungeon.
Floor Four.
"Waaaaghhhhhh!"
The goblin lunged, red-eyed and shrieking, raking its bony claws at its target.
The young man in the black hooded cloak didn't flinch. His arm snapped out from beneath the fabric, revealing armor underneath. He planted his feet, short sword held in a cross-body grip, left arm raised to guard.
Eyes locked on the creature's trajectory. The instant it closed the gap, his blade struck like a viper.
"Hah!"
Steel punched clean through the goblin's throat.
A wet crunch. Then the chime.
Ding!
Black-gloved hands wrenched the blade free, and arterial spray painted the air. He'd already twisted sideways, letting the filth sail past him like he'd done it a thousand times before.
A quick flick to shed the worst of it. The young man, clad in black light armor and leather beneath his cloak, fished a rag from his belt pouch and wiped the blade clean. Then he crouched, drew a small carving knife, and cut the fingernail-sized Magic Stone from the corpse with practiced ease, tossing it into his Magic Stone Bag.
He bounced the pouch in his palm. The stones clinked together, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward beneath the hood.
That smile died fast. His gaze dropped to the body at his feet, and the familiar resignation settled back in. A quiet sigh, and he pushed himself upright.
"That's enough. Calling it here." The words came out half-whispered, more for his own benefit than anyone else's.
Lucas. That was his name.
Like countless other Lower-class Adventurers in Orario, he was one face in a faceless crowd. A nobody among nobodies.
Level 1 adventurers who scraped their living from the Dungeon were everywhere you looked in this city. They made up the bulk of its population, the unglamorous foundation the whole place was built on.
Why become an adventurer if you've got no special talent?
Money. Simple as that.
Risk aside, adventuring paid well. Even at Level 1, once you survived the learning curve, the modest income from the Upper Floors was enough for a comfortable life. At minimum, you'd never run short of drinking money.
And Lucas had just barely cleared that learning curve. A seasoned nobody.
Two and a half years since I crossed over, and I can't even remember the last time I got a Material drop. At least there was a nice little surprise today. Not a total wash.
He clipped the Magic Stone Bag back to his belt, sheathed the short sword and carving knife, and tightened his cloak. The old brass pocket watch said he was finishing slightly earlier than usual, but he'd made up his mind. Head topside while there was still daylight.
Never get greedy. Quit while you're ahead. Stay low, stay careful.
Hood up, gear secured, Lucas threaded his way through the layered maze corridors with the ease of long habit. His steps were light, his mind drifting back to that sound he'd heard when the goblin died. A chime he'd never heard before. Beneath the hood, his grin was harder to suppress than an AK's recoil.
Before long, he merged into the stream of adventurers heading out, following the broad main corridor toward the plaza that led to the surface exit.
Evening rush hour. In Orario's Dungeon, late afternoon and early morning were the commuter peaks. Adventurers and Supporters flowed in and out like tides.
His eyes drifted to the Supporters in the crowd, each one hauling an oversized pack stuffed to bursting, nearly as tall as they were.
Those hauls belonged to established parties or solo powerhouses who worked Floor Nine and below with Stats at B-rank or higher. People like that pulled in serious money every run. Even on an unlucky day with no Drop Items, the Magic Stones alone from their kill count added up to a fat payday.
Don't be jealous. Stay calm. Stay patient. Build steady. Impulse is the enemy. Do NOT do something stupid because you got excited.
He wrestled his thoughts back into line and started planning his evening when a familiar voice cut through the crowd.
"Yo, Lucas! Haven't seen you in a while. How'd it go today?"
An adventurer broke away from his group and jogged over. Not particularly muscular, but he moved with the kind of quick, alert energy that said he knew how to handle himself. He bumped Lucas's shoulder, grinning wide.
Lucas glanced at the oversized smile and placed it immediately. Drinking buddy from the tavern. He sighed.
"I'm wearing the hood and you still spotted me? What are you, a hawk?"
"Ha! I've been at this a long time. Of course I'd notice." The guy preened.
Fair enough, honestly. Level 1 might be the bottom of the adventurer hierarchy, but anyone who survived the Dungeon long enough had tricks up their sleeve. The old hands especially tended to have more hidden cards than they'd ever let on.
"Don't ask," Lucas said, waving him off. His eyes slid to the bulging pack on the other party's Supporter. "About 3,000 valis. Same as always. Can't compare to a veteran five-man squad like yours. Looks like another big haul? Splitting what, ten grand each?"
"Oh man, you have no idea." The guy sidled closer, dropping his voice but doing a terrible job of hiding his excitement. "We got three Orc Hide on Floor Ten today.... Jackpot. Forget ten thousand. If we get a good price? Twenty, thirty thousand, easy."
Silence.
Lucas's expression flatlined. So that's why this guy came bouncing over with that ear-to-ear grin. He wasn't saying hello. He was flexing.
Other people's windfalls somehow stung worse than his own bad luck.
He picked up the pace, trying to shake his gloating shadow.
"Hey! The Hostess of Fertility tonight, yeah? I'm buying!"
"Yeah, yeah!" Lucas called back without turning around.
---
The flood of bodies carried him to the massive plaza on Floor One, the absolute safe zone large enough to hold thousands. He climbed the spiral staircase hugging the inner wall of the great shaft, crossed through the grand surface hall of Babel Tower, and clocked out for the day.
Stepping through the tower's enormous gates, the world opened up.
The circular plaza centered on Babel connected to the bustling main streets and the dense sprawl of buildings beyond.
Adventurers and Supporters heading home. Tavern girls hawking for customers. Street vendors and busy craftsmen. Wisps of cooking smoke against the amber evening sky.
None of it impressed Lucas anymore. He walked straight to the Exchange Office the Guild maintained near the Babel exit.
A few minutes later, he stood by the stone fountain in the plaza, weighing a coin purse that sat heavier in his hand than usual. A quiet spark of satisfaction.
With today's earnings, I've finally saved enough.
"System. Open Status Panel."