Chapter 352, Unexpected Developments

Translator: Barnnn

Editor: Silavin

 

Rain had begun to fall over Dungeon City not long after Daryl and his party engaged the Fenrir in battle. At first, it was little more than a drizzle, but within two hours it had become a steady downpour, clearing the streets of passersby. Even the crowd that had gathered to watch the battle at the Monitors began to scatter, each person seeking shelter wherever they could find it. Only those seated in the reserved section remained, protected by hired White Mages who deployed <<Barriers>> above their heads to ward off the rain.

 

Tsutomu, under his own triangular <<Barrier>>, sat alone on a bench, his gaze fixed intently on the Monitor as he watched the unfolding battle. As there was no roof overhead, he was mostly exposed to the elements. His shoulders trembled… but not from the cold.

 

“Man, that was insane,” he murmured as a slick grin crept across his face.

 

He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the words slipped free all the same. Every development in the battle, each twist and each stumble, had played out exactly as he had imagined. It was deeply, wickedly satisfying.

 

At first, of course, he had restrained himself. When Diniel had halted her attack at the sound of the cub’s cry, and Hannah had responded by striking the Fenrir in a fury, he had cheered inwardly but had kept a straight face, conscious of all the eyes around him. But the party’s progress had been a relentless march across metaphorical landmines, each step a spectacular detonation of drama and chaos, and it had become increasingly difficult to keep his glee in check.

 

Once the rain had driven the crowds away and he was left alone, he no longer had to hold back. He laughed like he owned the place, doubling over on the bench, clutching his sides. Had Garm or Amy seen him then, even they might have looked at him with disgust.

 

Back when he had played Live Dungeon, Tsutomu had spent time trying to find a way to save the Fenrir. He had become deeply immersed in that world, and he had felt a flicker of sorrow for the creature’s fate. But that faint emotion had been something he had buried; it was too embarrassing to admit. No one else in the player community spoke of it either. Anyone who did was laughed at for feeling sad over a game. If anything, it was more fashionable to complain about the developers. ‘Whoever wrote this scenario is trash,’ they would curse.

 

But this world, a real world, was different. The people here were sincere and unfiltered. When something happened in God’s Dungeon, they reacted honestly, viscerally, without irony or shame. If anything, Tsutomu loved this part of being here; he hadn’t developed Live Dungeon, but at times like this, he felt like a shadow developer watching his simulation come to life.

 

So when Hannah, normally cheerful, sometimes foolish, fell into visible emotional distress upon witnessing the awakening of the cub who had just lost her parent, Tsutomu had leaned forward in his seat with interest. And when she began to unravel in the face of the absurd cruelty of the ninety-second layer, he’d burst into laughter again. In that party, no one was quite as honest, and thus as entertaining, as Hannah.

 

But the moment that had made him laugh the hardest was when Fenrir cub took her own life. This time, it wasn’t just the smug satisfaction of a simulation’s overseer. It was shock, pure unfiltered surprise as a player.

 

In Live Dungeon, that had never happened. If the player killed the parent, no matter how friendly they had been in the events leading up to the act, the cub would turn hostile without exception. That was the iron rule dictated by the game’s code, and Tsutomu had accepted it. But this world had betrayed that expectation in the most gloriously unexpected way. The cub had made her own choice, one that went beyond anything in the game’s logic, and Tsutomu had laughed so hard he cried.

 

[Maybe the original, convoluted-ass official route from Live Dungeon could be applied here, but… I think the unique quirks of this world might offer a different kind of solution. Even Miss Pico was theorizing all sorts of possibilities about the ninety-second layer. Maybe her method could work too.]

 

Fenrir and its kin seemed to be configured with a higher learning curve compared to other monsters. If that trait could be properly leveraged, it might be possible to guide them toward a survival route instead of a doomed one. Of course, after today’s ordeal, Korinna and the others likely had no desire left to dive back into the ninety-second layer. But the larger, better-resourced Ealdred Crow might be willing to run the necessary tests.

 

Tsutomu, still chuckling faintly, finally wiped the tears from his eyes. Had any member of the party been present to see him rolling on the bench like a sea otter, he might well have been punched on the spot and frankly, he wouldn’t have blamed them.

 

[Korinna performed even better than I expected… I think I can go ahead and push her toward the hundredth layer. Actually, if I’m not careful, she might beat me to it.]

 

He had trained her himself, so her excellence was no surprise. Still, there was no denying that she was currently the strongest Channeler alive. If he became too cautious and left the hundredth layer to her entirely, it wasn’t unthinkable that she would clear it before he did. He’d need to rethink his strategy just in case that scenario came to pass.

 

While turning around ideas in his head, Tsutomu stood and restructured his <<Barrier>> above his head like an umbrella before leaving the Pedestal Market behind.

 

As he walked down the stone-paved streets, dodging puddles that had begun to collect in shallow dips along the way, he passed one of the smaller Monitors floating by the roadside, randomly displaying glimpses of the inside of God’s Dungeon. He gave it a glance in passing.

 

In Dungeon City, Eidolons had gained a great deal of popularity as utility and showpieces. Shell Crabs had led the charge, and now all manner of summoned monsters walked through the streets. Among them, the larger beasts were particularly troublesome, cracking cobblestone paths beneath their weight and sometimes even tearing up whole sections of road. The damage was an inevitable consequence of the city’s rapid expansion to accommodate its growing population, but complaints about ruined streets were on the rise.

 

“Okay, just a moment… All right, you’re good to go!”

 

Lately, it had become a common sight to see the city’s Security Team working alongside knights from House Babenberg, repairing damaged roadways. They remained at their posts even in the rain, directing carts and monsters while continuing their labor on the roads. Tsutomu passed them by as he walked through a district where food stalls lined the street.

 

This part of the city, where crowds pressed close and cash frequently changed hands, had once been a haven for pickpockets. Even now, it had a reputation for petty crimes and scuffles. And Tsutomu, when he first arrived in this world, had looked like the very definition of a soft, sheltered weakling; he would have been easy prey not long ago.

 

But times had changed; since founding Absolute Helix, he had grown more comfortable in this world. Trained by Garm and the others in the Clan, he now possessed enough strength to dispatch the average thug without much trouble. Even so, Tsutomu was no brawler by nature. He had spent most of his life without ever throwing a punch. Until recently, he still carried himself with the hesitant air of someone easily dismissed by tougher folk. Street orphans from the Royal Capital often sized him up with derision in their eyes.

 

“Ah…! H-hello!”

 

“…Hello.”

 

That, too, had changed. After the dramatic reversal of fortune in the ninetieth layer, and more importantly, after Tsutomu had faced death publicly for the first time and come through alive, his presence exuded enough pressure that even the most ignorant of orphans thought twice before challenging him. And now that Riki’s group, who managed most of the orphans from the Royal Capital, had spread word of Tsutomu’s status, the children would often offer polite greetings whenever they spotted him.

 

One such child came running now, soaked to the bone, dashing out from a side alley just to bow and say hello. Tsutomu barely managed to stifle a sigh as he offered a curt reply. He’d already instructed Riki to tell the children to stop, but messages passed through word of mouth often became muddled along the way. His intentions rarely reached their destination intact.

 

Besides, some of the orphans seemed to act out of sheer deference, guessing at what Tsutomu might want and trying to please him… often in the most inconvenient ways possible. He’d even half-seriously considered making an official statement on one of the Monitors. But their behavior was not malicious, and that made it all the more complicated. Only after the boy had run off did Tsutomu allow himself a sigh.

 

[And somehow that still led to the Security Team interrogating me… Maybe I should announce something publicly using the God Eye.]

 

Individually, the orphans were weak. But precisely because of that, they operated in packs to protect themselves. These days, thanks to the opportunities granted by God’s Dungeon, gaining power was easier than ever if one had the will. For that reason, the Security Team kept a close eye on Riki and his group, wary of what a determined band of orphans might do.

 

Tsutomu, having interacted with Riki and built a degree of trust, was now watched by extension. Every so often, he’d be pulled aside for a chat, serving as an uncomfortable reminder that his growing influence had not gone unnoticed.

 

[Well… my own party’s nearly all set now. Once I’ve got a little more breathing room, I could give it a try.]

 

He had been experimenting with party movement through the notoriously tricky ninety-first layer, trying to establish a natural rhythm and cohesion. Now, his presence had settled in, his comrades’ fundamentals were solidifying, and they were nearly ready for a proper push. Amira, for one, was probably itching to get going, and from here on, tackling the layers one by one seemed like the best course of action.

 

Even on a rare day off, Tsutomu’s thoughts couldn’t escape the pull of God’s Dungeon. He walked back to the Clan House, his mind abuzz with plans and possibilities.