Fluorescent moss, like rhythmic breathing, bloomed in the stone cracks and corners, providing a faint light to the narrow, dark cave and tunnels.
Deep within the passage, eerie roars or the sounds of intense fighting occasionally echoed from all directions.
Oppression and depth were the main themes here.
Grim yet noisy, contradictory yet perfectly natural.
One of the world’s three great mysteries, a rugged, layered, and infinitely expanding world,’situated’ in the Upper Floors of the Dungeon in the labyrinth city of Orario.
—Level 4, Cave Labyrinth.
“Waaaaghhhhhh—!”
An evil, small monster with glowing red eyes let out a frenzied roar, lunging with its thin, withered claws toward its target.
Facing the surprise attack, a young man clad in a black full-body hooded cloak flicked his arm, revealing the full equipment beneath his cloak.
He extended his right arm, planting his feet firmly as he gripped a short sword horizontally, while his left arm guarded his front.
Focusing his attention, his eyes locked onto the monster’s movements.
Just as the opponent lunged close, the short sword in the youth’s hand struck out like a venomous snake!
“Hah!”
With a low shout, the sharp blade pierced through the Goblin’s throat without any resistance.
Puchi!
[Ding!]
His black-gloved hands tightly gripped the hilt and pulled hard; blood immediately sprayed out like a pump.
As if he had anticipated it, he skillfully twisted his body, and the rain of foul blood brushed past him.
Flicking the blade, the youth—wearing black light armor and leather armor underneath—habitually pulled a rag from his waist pouch to wipe the blood from the short sword.
He then half-knelt, using a spare skinning knife to skillfully dig out a fingernail-sized magic stone from the monster’s body, tossing it casually into his magic stone bag.
He weighed the bag, and hearing the crisp clinking of the magic stones, a smile he couldn’t suppress tugged at the corner of his mouth under the hood.
But as if thinking of something, he glanced at the corpse on the ground.
That bit of a smile quickly vanished, replaced by a look of helplessness in his eyes as if saying “as expected.” He sighed softly, pushed off his knees, and stood up.
“That’s enough; I’ll call it a day here,” he whispered to himself, as if trying to persuade himself.
Fati Tirtiberne—that was the man’s name.
Like countless lower-tier Adventurers in Orario, he was an inconspicuous member of this vast crowd.
Commonly known as—an other-world beast of burden.
Lv.1 lower-tier Adventurers like him, who relied on the Dungeon to make a living, were as numerous as carp crossing a river in Orario.
They made up the majority of this adventure city and were the cornerstone of its foundation.
Some asked: Why become an Adventurer when your talent is so “ordinary”?
Naturally, it was because they had pursuits.
Setting aside the risks, Adventurers were a genuine high-income group.
Even at only Lv.1, once one survived the rookie period, the “meager” income from exploring the Upper Floors was enough to live a relatively comfortable life—at least the daily money for alcohol wasn’t an issue.
And Fati was just such an “old hand” who had barely passed his rookie phase.
‘Transmigrated for two and a half years, and I can’t even remember the last time a material dropped.
At least there’s a pleasant surprise today, so I’m not going back empty-handed.’ He silently complained about his pathetic luck while hanging the magic stone bag back on his waist.
After sliding the wiped short sword and knife into the leather sheaths at his side, he tightened his cloak.
He pulled out an old brass pocket watch and glanced at it, finding it was a tiny bit earlier than usual, but he still decided to return to the surface while it was still light.
Absolutely no greed, quit while ahead, keep a low profile, and be steady and cautious.
Donning his hood and packing his gear, Fati’s figure skillfully wove through the layered labyrinth passages.
His steps were light.
Recalling the “notification sound” he had never heard before when he killed the monster just now, the corners of his mouth hidden under the hood and cloak collar were harder to suppress than an AK.
Before long, he merged into the flow of people “getting off work,” moving along the flat main passage toward the plaza leading to the “Great Hole” exit.
The evening and the morning around eight or nine were the “morning rush” and “evening rush” of the Orario Dungeon.
Adventurers and Supporters were like tides, surging in or out at these times.
As someone who also drifted through his days relying on this great mystery of infinite resources, Fati was no exception.
He naturally blended in with his colleagues, maintaining a consistent pace.
As his peripheral vision swept over the half-person-tall, bulging large backpacks carried by the Supporters in the crowd, a trace of unavoidable envy flashed through his heart.
Those harvests were either from fixed multi-person parties or were the spoils of war of powerful Adventurers with ability values of B or higher who hung around below Level 9.
With the abilities of these people, every exploration could yield a significant harvest.
Even if luck was bad and not many Drop Items were found, the basic income from magic stones accumulated by killing monsters could be exchanged for a large sum of money.
‘Phew, don’t be envious.
Stay calm and low-key, develop steadily; impulsiveness is the devil.
I must never take risks because of a momentary impulse.’ Fati forcibly suppressed his emotions, thinking to himself.
He calmed his mind and was calculating where to kill time in the evening when he suddenly heard a familiar voice calling his name in the crowd:
“Yo, Fati!
Haven’t seen you in a while.
How was the harvest today?”
An Adventurer with a slender build—his muscles weren’t prominent, but he gave off an overall aura of agility—saw Fati blending low-key into the crowd.
After saying a few words to his companions, he walked over quickly and bumped Fati’s shoulder with a smile to greet him.
Fati glanced at that big smiling face, recognized him as a fair-weather friend from the tavern, and sighed helplessly.
“You can recognize me even with the hood on?
What kind of monster eyesight do you have?”
“Haha, I’m an old senior after all.
Isn’t this bit of skill only natural?” the other party said rather proudly.
Fati actually agreed with that statement.
Even though Lv.1 was the bottom of the Adventurer hierarchy, who among those who could survive in the Dungeon didn’t have some hidden skills or trump cards?
Not to mention those old hands who had who-knows-how-many tricks up their sleeves.
“Don’t mention it.
Same as usual, around 3,000 Valis,” Fati waved his hand.
His gaze swept over the bulging large backpack of the Supporter in the other’s team, and he changed the subject.
“How can I compare to your five-man party of veteran Lv.1s?
Looking at this momentum, another bumper harvest?
Can you each get 10,000?”
“Hehe, let me tell you,” the other party leaned in closer, lowering his voice but unable to hide his excitement, “Three Orc Tusks dropped on 10th Floor today.
It’s a huge windfall!
Forget 10,000; if we can get a good price, 20,000 or 30,000 is possible!”
“…”
Fati’s face darkened.
He finally knew why this guy had come over grinning; he was here to show off.
Seeing someone else get rich was harder to swallow than not getting rich himself.
He quickened his pace, trying to lose this “face-rubbing” fellow.
“Hey!
Tonight at The Hostess of Fertility, be there or be square!
The drinks are on me!” the other party shouted from behind.
“Got it!” Fati replied without looking back…
Following the crowd to the massive plaza of the absolute safe zone on Basement Level 1, which could accommodate thousands, Fati climbed the spiral stairs up the gentle slope surrounding the inner wall of the Great Hole.
He passed through the magnificent ground hall of the Tower of Babel, ending his day’s “work.”
Stepping out of the giant tower gates, the view suddenly opened up.
The circular plaza centered around the Tower of Babel connected to the bustling main roads and the rows upon rows of buildings in the distance.
The plaza and streets paved with white-gray stone slabs were clean and wide, dotted with stone-carved fountains and landscaped green parks that complemented each other perfectly.
Adventurers and Supporters finishing their shifts, tavern poster girls soliciting customers, roadside stalls and busy craftsmen, and curls of cooking smoke set against the twilight sunset—it all formed a vivid fantasy painting.
However, this familiar sight no longer inspired the wonder Fati felt when he first arrived.
Without stopping, he walked straight toward the Exchange Office set up by the City Management Authority near the Tower of Babel exit.
A few minutes later, he reappeared by the stone-carved fountain in the plaza, lightly weighing the coin bag filled with gold coins.
A hint of joy quietly surfaced in his heart.
‘Including today’s income, I’ve finally saved enough.’ He thought discreetly.
“System, open the panel!”