“Labyrinth Paradise, Riviera?” Fati thought for a moment and then understood.
Indeed, aside from that group of outlaws who had long occupied the 18th floor of the Dungeon, no one could be better informed, especially regarding intelligence within the underground.
Riviera Town was established on the 18th floor of the Dungeon’s Middle Floors.
This floor was one of the few “Safe Floors” in the Dungeon where monsters did not spawn, so it was affectionately called “Labyrinth Paradise (Under Resort)” by Adventurers.
The reason this town was so famous was that it was a legend in itself.
It was said to have been overrun by monsters more than three hundred times, yet it had stubbornly been rebuilt more than three hundred times and still stood today.
In addition, Riviera Town, built in the Labyrinth Paradise of the 18th floor, held a geographical advantage.
The “residents” of the town were well-versed in the way of buying low and selling high, reaping huge profits.
Being in the special environment of the Dungeon allowed Riviera to escape the constraints of the surface city’s order, giving rise to a notorious black market.
Various [contraband] that had disappeared from the market were circulated here, such as terrifying little items like [Unlocking Medicine], [Update Medicine], [flame stones], and so on.
Those who could gain a foothold in Riviera were all ruthless outlaws or Adventurers who considered themselves powerful.
Combined with being a Safe Floor in the Middle Floors, it served as a hub connecting the Upper Floors and Lower Floors, naturally attracting intelligence brokers from various factions to take root there.
Fati quickly went through the information about this town in his mind and nodded.
“Riviera, huh.
Then this rumor is probably true.”
Dorumur sighed heavily and cursed under his breath:
“Can’t those Dark Faction lunatics just die in peace?
Stirring up trouble in the city is one thing—the tall ones can deal with it if the sky falls.
But reaching their hands into the Dungeon, they really deserve to f**king die!”
Countless Adventurers relied on the Dungeon for their livelihood.
With the Dark Faction causing such a ruckus and making the situation so tense, it was impossible for the City Management Authority, the city Military Police, the Astrea Familia, and the Order Faction to turn a blind eye.
Once the situation escalated and access to the Dungeon was tightened, there was no telling how many people would lose their source of income.
As the saying goes, cutting off someone’s livelihood is like killing their parents.
It was easy to understand why these lunatics, stirring up trouble in the Dungeon, were being targeted by the vast majority of the Adventurer community.
Fati took a sip of cold ale, forked a clove of garlic confit into his mouth, and said with narrowed eyes:
“They only need to focus on causing trouble; naturally, someone behind the scenes will foot the bill for their actions.
For instance, aren’t those merchant Guilds and noble lords who deal in smuggling the perfect ready-made financiers?”
Dorumur paused mid-drink, then fell silent.
He understood what Fati meant.
Smuggling trade—the astronomical profits involved were unimaginable.
The Labyrinth City Orario held a monopoly on the worldwide trade of Magic Stone Products and unique Dungeon goods.
Trade meant taxes; for every import and export, especially in bulk transactions, how staggering would the amounts be?
Not to mention regulated goods, contraband, and slaves—’merchandise’ with incredible profit margins.
Such immense interests were enough to make people take risks, let alone the small matter of providing a little funding to the Dark Faction.
Now, with the Dark Faction charging ahead and drawing fire, these behind-the-scenes financiers were happy to see it happen, so their level of support was naturally significant.
As long as the Dark Faction continued to create chaos and disrupt order, the Familias maintaining that order would have no time to look elsewhere.
Even Fati knew about the filth involved; could the city’s high-ranking officials and the leading Familias not know?
It was merely a matter of weighing priorities.
Compared to those greedy merchant Guilds and brain-dead nobles, the threat of the Dark Faction was clearly more direct and lethal.
When these guys were dealt with, the monsters and ghosts behind them who lost their power would naturally not escape the final reckoning.
“Sigh, we finally got a bit of peace and quiet, and now it’s going to be chaotic again.
How many days has it been since the last riot?” Dorumur stopped smiling, instead gloomily gulping down his drink one mouthful after another.
Fati, however, wasn’t worried about much.
He was just a small fry hanging around the 7th floor and above; who would bother him for no reason?
But Fati still secretly heightened his vigilance, deciding to be even more steady and low-key when going to the Dungeon during this period.
As the old saying goes, it’s not the one-in-ten-thousand chance you fear, but the ‘what if’.
“If the Dark Faction is making moves, those at the top can’t just stand by.
Have those few houses taken action?”
“Yeah, when it involves the city and the Dungeon, the Guild’s reaction is actually quite fast.” Dorumur wiped the foam from his beard.
“I heard that the Astrea Familia, Ganesha Familia, and Loki Familia have already sent out a joint investigation team.
They left earlier today.”
Fati clicked his tongue, his heart settling slightly.
“Those three?
Just hearing the names makes one feel much more at ease.”
Dorumur also grinned, his brown beard stained with ale quivering.
“That little Pallum Brave really has something.
At least for the past few years, he’s been chasing those lunatics all over the place.
I heard he’s even taken down quite a few Executives and important figures.”
As he spoke, he kept pouring ale into his mouth.
Fati felt that even he himself wasn’t as bold when drinking water as Dorumur was with ale.
“Haha, refreshing!”
“By the way, I’m telling you, kid, don’t just stay cooped up in the Dungeon alone every day.
You should come out and socialize more, otherwise, being uninformed is never a good thing!”
“Take the recent big news: Ais Wallenstein from the Loki house has reached Lv.
2.”
“Huh?” Fati was stunned, then he sucked in a breath of cold air and blurted out an expletive in shock: “Holy sh*t, if I remember correctly—Goddess’s shoes!
From the time she became an Adventurer until now…
it’s only been a bit over a year?”
Dorumur grinned and gestured with three fingers.
“Eleven and a half months.”
Hearing this, Fati’s mouth twitched, and he immediately broke into a cold sweat, his mind churning with waves of emotion.
This wasn’t an act; he was truly shocked.
It was just like the internet keyboard warriors in his past life saying ‘I could do that too’—when doing the same thing, there was a chasm of difference between others doing it and doing it oneself.
Only by personally experiencing the difficulty of leveling up could one deeply understand the sheer weight of reaching the next level again in just 13 months.
That wasn’t something that could be dismissed by saying she was guided by seniors from a large Familia.
Comparing it to his own rate of improvement without any ‘cheats,’ Fati felt a deep sense of awe for their talent.
“Goddess’s shoes, the gap between people is bigger than the gap between humans and dogs,” Fati murmured.
Dorumur nodded heavily in agreement.
“Come!” The Pallum raised his glass high, his voice booming.
“To celebrate the growth of the Order Faction’s strength once more, cheers!”
Fati smiled and clinked his glass!
“Cheers!”
…The crescent moon hung high, and the entire city was veiled in a black shroud.
“Safe travels, guest!
Please come again!” Syr stood at the door, her posture professional.
Watching this scene, Fati felt a sense of absurdity and could only secretly sigh that women were truly born actors.
“Alright, beautiful lady, please go back inside.
No need to see us out.”
Stepping out of The Hostess of Fertility, the cool late-night breeze blew, and much of his intoxication instantly dissipated.
Dorumur, practiced in the routine, settled the bill with Lovis’s money and hoisted the dead-asleep Elf onto his back, saying to Fati: “Watch yourself on the road.
I’ll take this idiot back first.”
“Yeah, you guys be careful too.” Fati nodded.
Dorumur waved his hand, and his figure carrying the Elf soon merged into the end of the street.
Watching them disappear, Fati stretched his body and took a deep breath.
“Time to go home.”
…The next day.
Just as the horizon began to turn pale, Fati woke up.
He glanced at the time: 4:30 AM.
He nimbly climbed out of bed, pushed open the door in his pajamas, and walked into the small courtyard.
Fresh air flooded his lungs.
After stretching his muscles a bit, he habitually picked up the watering can and slowly began to water the potted plants on the windowsill and in the corner of the yard.
“This talent…
it’s like I was born to tend to these plants and flowers.” Fati muttered to himself with a smile, his fingertips brushing against a tender leaf.
“Little ones, grow well.
Don’t let your master’s care go to waste.”
After tending to his little ancestors, he returned to the house to prepare breakfast and a bento for the Dungeon.
Breakfast consisted of three thick slices of bacon, two fried eggs, a piece of toast, accompanied by two small plates of refreshing pickles bought from Demeter Fruits and Vegetables, plus a glass of milk.
As for the bento, it was rice balls made from leftover rice, wrapped in seaweed sheets—simple and neatly packed.