After parting ways with Suzuki and the others, Yuuto pressed deeper into the dungeon alone. He had reached level three, and a quiet curiosity pushed him on. He wanted to know how far his new strength could take him.
The change in the dungeon was clear the moment he stepped onto the next floor. The rough, natural caves of the upper levels were gone. Here, the walls and floor showed clean cuts and smooth stone, as if shaped by skilled hands long ago. It felt less like a cave and more like the halls of an ancient ruin—or perhaps a hidden fortress buried under the earth.
If goblins ruled the upper floors, whatever lived down here would be far stronger.
Yuuto raised his guard. The corridors twisted and narrowed, and every corner could hide a threat. The air felt heavy, as if the dungeon itself watched him.
"Sort," he whispered, calling on his scan skill.
Blue lines traced the walls and ground in his vision. The world shifted into a living map, updating each time he took a step.
A warning flickered ahead. Ten meters in front of him, a section of floor glowed red.
A trap—an open pit beneath a false floor, with iron spikes waiting at the bottom.
He felt a chill. Without the skill, he might have walked right into it. When you explored alone, avoiding accidents mattered more than winning fights. A party could pull a trapped friend to safety, but a solo explorer only got one mistake.
He hugged the wall and slipped around the danger. His heart beat harder than it had in battle. Monsters you could see were easier than the threats that stayed hidden.
After a few minutes, the passage widened into a small chamber. A single wooden chest stood in the center of the room, old and dusty, as if waiting for someone foolish enough to reach for it.
He didn't move closer. "Sort."
Red lit up across the floor around the chest.
Pressure plates. If triggered, poisoned arrows would fire from the walls.
Classic, but deadly. A greedy treasure hunter would never leave this room alive.
Yuuto turned to leave.
Then a tiny glint near the ceiling caught his eye. "Sort" marked it as a hidden switch—one that both disabled the trap and opened a secret path.
So that was the real test. Only explorers who spotted the trick could continue.
The switch sat three meters up the wall, far beyond his reach. He scanned the room, found a stone, and weighed it in his hand. His strength and aim were higher now. He would only need one throw.
He drew a breath, focused, and sent the stone flying. It struck the switch with a soft click.
The red lights faded. The wall at the back of the room rumbled aside, revealing a dark hallway.
Yuuto allowed himself a small nod of satisfaction.
His gaze drifted back to the chest. Even with the floor trap disabled, something about it felt wrong. He checked again with "Sort." A faint warning pulsed from the chest itself.
A mimic was possible. A poison gas trap was likely.
The reward inside would be small—some coins, maybe a weak potion. Not worth the risk of a curse or a monster biting his head off.
But, he turned—then paused.
Unless he could take the contents without opening it.
"Break," he whispered, trying his break skill on the lock from a safe distance.
A sharp warning stabbed through his mind. The chest carried an anti-analysis enchantment. If he forced it, the trap would rebound straight into his mind as a curse or psychic attack.
He cut the skill at once, breath catching as cold sweat slid down his spine.
That had been close.
Yuuto steadied his breathing as the last echo of the warning faded from his mind. So that was the trick: a chest designed to punish anyone who relied on strength or skills. Force it open and the physical trap would fire. Try to analyze it with a skill, and a curse would hit you instead. He could almost hear the dungeon's creator laughing.
If his skills were higher, he might have broken the chest safely. But at his current level, the danger was far too high. One mistake here could mean a curse worse than the lamia's petrifying bite.
He weighed the risks again. The treasure would be weak—small change and low-grade items at best. The price of failure, however, was crippling injury or death.
The choice was clear.
He turned away without regret. Leaving the chest behind wasn't fear—it was strategy. Knowing his limits, cutting off a tempting reward, and placing survival first was its own kind of strength.
With that resolve, he stepped into the hidden passage.
The hall stretched straight ahead, lit at even intervals by torches fixed to the stone walls. The light made it easier to see, yet Yuuto's caution only grew.
No traps at all?
"Sort" showed nothing. No pitfalls, no poison darts, not even a hint of monsters. The silence felt wrong, like the still air right before a storm.
He kept a hand on his iron dagger and moved forward one slow step at a time.
Halfway through, a sharp whoosh cut the air behind him.
He dropped flat.
Arrows hissed over his head and slammed into the wall ahead, quivering with a harsh, metallic tremor.
Cold sweat ran down his back. This wasn't one of the simple traps he had seen before. There must be pressure plates at both the entrance and the exit—step on one, and arrows fired from the opposite end. Enter the corridor, and you were trapped in a deadly crossfire.
Even worse, "Sort" hadn't detected it. His skill level still wasn't high enough to identify complex traps that linked multiple mechanisms together.
What now?
If he stood, another volley could come. If he stayed on the floor, they would get him eventually. Forward or back, both paths led into the line of fire.
He still had more than half his MP. A skill might turn this around.
"Sort" had failed... "Break" would do nothing here. That left "Keep."
He recalled the effect of "Keep": it held a target's state in place for a short time.
If he could freeze the mechanism of the trap itself—stop it right before it fired—then maybe he could pass through safely.
It was risky, but it was a chance.
He eyed the wall, studying the small holes where the arrows had come from. The firing device had to be hidden just behind them.
Still lying low, Yuuto aimed at the rear wall and whispered, "Keep."
MP drained from him in a heavy wave.
A message flashed: the trap's mechanism had been frozen.
He sprang to his feet and sprinted toward the far end. Just before reaching the exit, he cast "Keep" again toward the front wall.
The second message appeared—success.
Both traps were locked in place, harmless.
Yuuto dashed out of the corridor and didn't stop until he reached a safe stretch of hallway. He leaned back against the wall, catching his breath.
"Haah... haah... I really thought I was done for."
He slid to the floor and gulped down the last of his Blue Potion. His MP had been nearly drained.
This close call was his own fault. He had grown careless, trusting his skills too much and letting his guard drop around unknown dangers.
He needed to do better.
A solo explorer walked beside death every moment. He reminded himself of that truth once more.
But there was something else too—a discovery.
"Keep" wasn't just a support skill. Used well, it could stop traps, freeze movement, and serve as a powerful way to disrupt the enemy.
He had gained a new weapon today—a hard-earned lesson that could only be won through pain and survival.