Chapter 301, Tsutomu’s True Worth

Translator: Barnnn

Editor: Silavin

 

As a battle against the Corrupted Shell neared its climax, the monster would unveil new attack patterns, the worst among them being a binding technique classified as an instant-death move, akin to the petrifying Mystic Eyes. Should a target be seized by its hand, petrification would rapidly spread through their body, culminating in their release — shattered like brittle stone upon the ground.

 

In the world of Live Dungeon, a certain breed of player had reveled in that grotesque sequence. They would create custom avatars and loop the binding animation endlessly, subjecting their characters to repeated petrification purely for the aesthetic — grimly fascinating videos that revealed a certain darkness among the fanbase. It wasn’t long before the Corrupted Shell’s bind attack drew serious attention from theorycrafters. And eventually, a niche party build caught onto something unusual.

 

“<<Medic>>! <<Medic>>! <<Medic>>!”

 

A party of four White Mages casting <<Medic>> in unison during the binding attack — could that somehow stall or even reverse the petrification?

 

To everyone’s astonishment, it worked. By proccing <<Medic>> or <<Ray of Grace>> faster than the petrification could spread, the afflicted character could survive. After about a minute of this strain, the boss’s AI would experience a system error, freezing its actions entirely. From there, the Attackers could simply chip away at it, exploiting the bug known as the ‘Bind Lock’ strategy.

 

Of course, the bug had been quickly patched in an emergency update — but Tsutomu, once a devoted Live Dungeon addict, remembered it well. And now, caught in the Corrupted Shell’s binding grasp, he chugged the strange Gray Potion and cast <<Medic>> over and over again, desperately fending off the creeping petrification.

 

Ordinarily, even a well-timed <<Medic>> would not hold back the curse for more than ten seconds. But the Gray Potion brewed by the old Forest Apothecary lady was extraordinary. Combined with Tsutomu’s perfectly timed <<Medic>> bursts, aligned with the pulses of white energy surging through the creature’s grip, he held fast. His body, once turning white as marble, gradually regained its natural color.

 

Screeches echoed.

 

“AaaaAAAAAAAaaaaaahhh!?”

“GYAAAAAAaaaAAaaaah!?”

 

It was almost as if the Corrupted Shell could not understand why its prey had not turned to stone. In frustration, it released more white pulses, again and again. But Tsutomu endured — even though his abdomen had been gouged open, the restoration of his nerve function brought a tide of pain crashing down on him. He barely managed to cast <<High Heal>> on himself before choking down another mouthful of that gritty Gray Potion.

 

Ten seconds passed. Then thirty. A full minute. Still, he had not turned to stone.

 

The game-breaking glitch had not carried over into this world, it seemed, but the Corrupted Shell had spent nearly a minute and a half focusing solely on Tsutomu — trying and failing to petrify him. Its accumulated aggro had all but burned away.

 

“<<Combat Cry>>! <<Taunt Swing>>! <<Warrior Howl>>–!!”

 

Daryl shouted through the chaos, maintaining his aggression with Leleia’s steady support. While seasoned Explorers were accustomed to dying, fluctuating mental energy reserves could rattle even the most hardened of them. But Daryl pushed forward, unrelenting, his roar rising.

 

“Whoa–!”

 

At last, the Corrupted Shell turned its wrath on Daryl. With a final heave, it hurled Tsutomu aside like a discarded doll. He had escaped its grip — but he had burned through nearly all his mental energy. He did not even have enough to maintain his flight. Head down, he began to fall.

 

“DAAAAHHHHHHH!!”

 

Hannah, clutching her badly burned right arm, bolted toward Tsutomu. Whatever strange waveforms he had been hit with, he seemed more or less intact. She caught his plummeting body with her small frame and managed to carry him safely to the ground.

 

“Teach! You okay!?”

 

“……”

 

“Wait — hey, Teach!? What are you — what are you grabbing!?”

 

As she struggled to hold him up, Tsutomu’s right hand suddenly began fumbling around her waist. Eyes wide, she let out a shocked cry, unable to move with his full adult weight hanging off her.

 

Then his hand found the Potion holster on her belt. Without ceremony, he yanked out every bottle he could and drained them all, one after the other. His mental energy slowly refilled, and his still-gaping wound began to close.

 

“Ahhh, damn that was close! Thought I was gonna die. Ughh — what a rush!”

 

“Y-You seem lively enough, though…?”

 

“It’s fake energy! False bravado! …Whew. But yeah, thanks. You saved me.”

 

His tone, breathless and high-strung like someone finishing a marathon, slowly cooled as his mental reserves replenished. Gently, he pulled away from Hannah and floated on his own.

 

Seeing her burned and still grimacing, he rummaged through a spare Magic Bag and handed her some Green Potions.

 

“I won’t be able to do any healing for a while. Keep yourself patched up with these and stay on Daryl’s flank. And listen — don’t use Magic Fist unless you’re somewhere safe. Got it?”

 

“Roger that!”

 

“Good. Go!”

 

He gave Hannah a firm push forward. She hesitated only a moment, then sprinted back into the fray. Tsutomu let out a long breath and sank to the ground, casting a wary eye toward the monster.

 

[…Somehow, that worked…]

 

His final gamble — approaching the Corrupted Shell to provoke the bind attack — had not even been confirmed to work in live combat, let alone seen on the Monitors. There had been no guarantee it would use that move at all. And the Gray Potion’s true efficacy was also unknown.

 

But when there was no other way to buy two or three minutes against a creature like that, what choice did he have? With luck, repeated binds could burn away its aggro — and maybe, just maybe, trigger a bug. In the end, it had worked out. Barely.

 

Not that he’d ever try it again. Odds were, he’d die next time.

 

The Corrupted Shell allowed no respite.

 

“Area attack! Pattern Three!” Tsutomu called as he moved, taking cues from the same screams he must’ve heard a hundred times by now.

 

Then — he spotted Diniel, bow lowered, eyes turned toward him.

 

“DINIEEEEEEEEL!!” he bellowed. “You’ve been slacking off — make up for it!!”

 

Diniel twitched. After a brief pause, she raised her bow once more, sighting the monster with newfound focus.

 

“Area attack — uh, this one’s new! Everyone, respond as needed!”

 

The battle against the Corrupted Shell dragged into its final stages, its onslaught relentless. A flurry of new, unpredictable attack patterns emerged — some rained down from above, others spread across the battlefield in sweeping arcs. Only Tsutomu recognized them – thanks to his encyclopedic knowledge of Live Dungeon, he alone could predict the monster’s next moves. He dodged each strike with uncanny precision, suffering not a scratch, and kept his team alive with timely healing.

 

“Guhhhhrrraahhh!!”

 

Daryl, having drawn so much aggro that he was forced to Tank the boss solo, pushed past the brink of exhaustion with staggering tenacity. Even with his body pushed to its limits, he held his ground. Hannah dealt damage with strikes of her Magic Fist, while Leleia lent strength through her Spirits. Diniel, now back in the action, fought with a ferocity bordering on the divine.

 

Then, just as before, the Corrupted Shell froze in place. It dropped its gaze to the ground and began slowly ascending into the air.

 

“<<Medic>>!”

 

The instant Tsutomu saw that familiar motion — the same attack that had killed three of them in the blink of an eye — he cast <<Medic>> again and again, flooding his allies with restorative light. The petrification was purged entirely before it could take hold.

 

In the brief moment of calm that followed, Tsutomu reflected on the last attack, his mind clearer now that Daryl had gotten the monster’s attention.

 

He mentally retraced the moment, analyzing every detail. Three had died instantly — yet he and Diniel had endured. What separated them?

 

Then it clicked.

 

Neither he nor Diniel had allowed any petrification to build up during the fight. They had kept themselves completely clean of it, removing even the slightest trace as they popped up. The others, in contrast, had grown used to letting a small amount accumulate, knowing it would not cause problems in combat.

 

That white light — it accelerated the petrification to fatal levels.

 

…Which made it a particularly nasty trick. Novice Healers would cure petrification on reflex, regardless of aggro or energy cost. But veterans learned to conserve their strength — letting minor petrification build up, since it rarely posed a threat.

 

This attack preyed on that habit.

 

“Wide open!” Tsutomu shouted. “Leleia! Diniel! Attack, attack, attack!”

 

“Yes!” Leleia responded instantly.

 

“……”

 

Diniel said nothing, but the gleam in her eyes was answer enough.

 

As Tsutomu had guessed, once all petrification had been purged, the white light held no power. The attack passed over them harmlessly.

 

And the Corrupted Shell, now curled in on itself from the effort of its failed gambit, presented a perfect target.

 

Leleia was the first to move, her blade flashing with impossible speed, propelled by her summoned Sylph. Diniel followed, her arrows raining down in rapid succession. The monster reeled, helpless under the relentless onslaught.

 

“HAAAH!!”

 

“EEAAAAAHHHHHHHH — !!”

 

Leleia’s final thrust pierced the creature’s core. It let out a scream so shrill it seemed to shake the air itself, then burst apart in a shower of brilliant light. Radiant particles swirled in the aftermath — until, at last, a single Magic Stone fell from the sky, split cleanly into black and white.

 

“Haaahh…”

 

Tsutomu, seeing the battle truly over, let out a long, hollow breath. His legs gave out beneath him, and he crumpled to the ground. Even with his training, his legs felt as if they’d been torn to shreds from constant sprinting. His head throbbed with the strain of extended concentration. Every part of him screamed for rest.

 

“SIR TSUTOMUUUUUU!!”

 

A heavy pounding of footsteps heralded Daryl’s approach, like a massive dog barreling forward with a frisbee in its jaws.

 

“<<Barrier>>!”

 

Tsutomu, seeing the towering Tank charging straight at him in full armor, threw up a magical shield in sheer panic.

 

“Whuh–!?”

 

Daryl slammed face-first into the invisible wall with a loud thud, before sliding comically down to the ground.

 

▽▽

 

The four party members had pushed themselves past their limits. Not just Tsutomu and Daryl — Leleia and Hannah, too — sat or lay where they had fallen, utterly spent, unable to move for a while. Amid them, Diniel stood quietly, alone in the aftermath, gazing down at the black-and-white Magic Stone that now lay on the ground.

 

“Good work, Daryl,” Tsutomu said at last.

 

“…Thank you.” Daryl replied weakly, his cheek pressed to the ground.

 

Beside him, Hannah was sprawled on her side, her limbs limp, staring blankly as she wondered how the people watching through the Monitors were reacting. There was no doubt the crowd gathered there was celebrating — though she did not seem to register it.

 

“You too, Hannah. You both did great out there. Thanks,” Tsutomu added.

 

“Nah, nah, you were the real one, Teach!” she shot back, lifting her head with a tired grin. “That was some crazy stuff you pulled off!”

 

“That’s right, Miss Hannah! Bringing FOUR of us back in one go — that was no joke!” Daryl chimed in.

 

“Whoa! I dunno exactly how hard that is, but that’s awesome!”

 

“Crazy does not even begin to describe it! It was four resurrections, you know!? I nearly killed myself doing it.”

 

“Owowow–!?”

 

Annoyed by Hannah’s oblivious response, Tsutomu reached out and tugged on her cheek. Too exhausted to put up much of a fight, Hannah simply flailed her limbs and whined like a child.

 

Meanwhile, Leleia approached, carrying the Undine in her arms — along with the damaged magic tools clinging to its Slime-like body.

 

“Well done, everyone,” she said calmly. “I’ve retrieved the magic tools, though most of them are beyond repair.”

 

“Thanks. And good work to you too,” Tsutomu replied, catching his breath. “I didn’t get to see much — kinda had my hands full — but you held your own, didn’t you?”

 

“It was nothing, really. Nothing compared to what you did.” Leleia said modestly.

 

But the truth was, Daryl’s ability to manage aggro so efficiently was thanks in no small part to Leleia’s careful coordination. She had supported the frontliners during area attacks, directed the summoned Spirits precisely, and administered Potions without hesitation. She had played the part of a true party leader — and even contributed solid damage as an Attacker. Tsutomu had not seen most of it firsthand, but from the outcome alone, it was clear she had flawlessly done her part.

 

“And Undine, too — thanks for the help. And Sylph as well.”

 

“Salamander and Gnome helped, too. Make sure to praise them later, or they’ll vent their jealousy on me,” Leleia said dryly.

 

“Got it. I’ll give them a proper thanks back at the Clan House.”

 

Tsutomu glanced down at the Undine bouncing happily in Leleia’s arms, then at Sylph, who danced atop the Undine in celebration. Smiling, he turned and practically skipped toward the enormous Magic Stone that still lay gleaming nearby.

 

“Diii~ni~ Whatcha doing over heeere?” He called out in a singsong voice – a high, playful tone that sounded uncannily like Amy’s – with hands clasped behind his back and his face stretched into a beaming grin.

 

His exaggerated movements were like something out of a schoolgirl’s daydream, waiting with giddy excitement at the meeting spot for her first date.

 

Diniel scowled at him in distaste.

 

“Oho? What’s with the face?” Tsutomu said, voice dropping back to normal. “Anyway — ponytail down, arm out. Chop-chop.”

 

“……”

 

Without a word, Diniel obeyed. She reached up and removed the hair tie that bound her golden hair, letting it fall loose over her shoulders. Tsutomu motioned for the hair tie, then took it from her fingers and slipped it over her wrist.

 

Then, with a smirk, he pulled it back and let it snap against her arm.

 

*Snap!*

 

The sharp thwack of rubber on skin echoed faintly, but Diniel did not so much as flinch. Her face remained perfectly blank, as if nothing had happened.

 

Tsutomu snorted. “Not even a twitch, huh?”

 

He retrieved the hair tie from her arm and tossed it back to her.

 

“Well, anyway… now we’re even, considering your earlier performance. Thanks for the hard work.”

 

“……”

 

Compared to the battle with the Fallen Lich, her expression now was even more vacant — empty, unreadable.

 

With a light sigh, Tsutomu turned away and gestured toward the three others who had been watching the exchange with puzzled looks. He jerked his chin toward the Black Gate.

 

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