I crouched one floor above the corridor where the undead horde surged like a black tide, thousands of skeletons and zombies crammed so tightly together they seemed to crawl over each other's bones.
From this height I could see the way their rotting arms swayed in unison, a grotesque parody of marching soldiers. If anyone tried to face them head-on, even an A-rank party would be swallowed whole in seconds.
But I wasn't here to fight. My job wasn't to swing a sword or shout a spell. My job was to corner the board, to bring this entire game to checkmate.
"Well then... guess it's overtime."
I muttered the words, almost amused at how natural they felt, and triggered my skill: [Rearrangement]. A grid of lines and images unfolded in my head, the map etched there by repetition and memory. Five uses—that was all Skill Level 2 granted me. And with those five, I would end everything.
* * *
"Report. One unidentified adventurer has entered Sector Nine."
"What? Who in their right mind would charge into that deathtrap now?"
The Adventurers' Guild command room froze at the communication officer's words. Hikawa Reina snapped her eyes to the monitor and pulled up the intruder's data.
[Name] Sato Koichi
[Rank] F
[Status] Operating Solo
Her breath caught. Him. Why there, why now? A terrifying possibility surfaced in her mind, impossible yet somehow undeniable.
"Keep tracking him. Don't look away, not for a second."
Her voice cut like a blade, and though the surrounding staff exchanged doubtful looks, they obeyed. After all, what could an F-rank do? He is alone too. That was what they believed. But that belief shattered moments later.
* * *
The first move.
In Sector Seven, I swapped every [torch] along the walls with oil jars I'd collected from another floor. Old clay shattered instantly in the torch flames, and a rain of volatile oil drenched the undead horde from above.
The second move.
Every remaining torch across the floor blinked out of place and reappeared at the feet of the oil-soaked undead. A single spark became a storm.
"Sector Seven! A massive fire has broken out—the horde's engulfed!"
"Fire? How? Who caused this?"
The command room erupted. On the monitor, the corridor became an inferno, the undead writhing in sheets of flame. Reina's gaze, however, clung to a single flickering marker. Sato Koichi. It had to be him. But how?
The third move.
Those who escaped the blaze funneled into Sector Five. I exchanged the ceiling's [Collapse Switches] with the stones beneath the monsters' feet. Their own weight triggered the fall. The roof caved in with a roar, and from above the underground river burst through, a white torrent crashing down, drowning the army in a flood.
"Sector Five submerged—the advance is delayed, heavily delayed!"
"It's like... the dungeon itself is fighting for us..."
Someone whispered it like a prayer. God's hand or Divine providence. To everyone else, that was the only explanation. But Reina knew. This wasn't divine. This was one man wielding an uncharted skill, rewriting the battlefield alone.
The fourth move.
The survivors still pushed forward, staggering into Sector Three, the final path. At the corridor's end stood the guild's last defense: a massive [Iron Gate], locked until triggered by the command room switch. I replaced it with a pebble. With a crash that shook the dungeon, the Iron Gate dropped into place without warning, sealing half the route.
"The Iron Gate's falling—without activation!"
"Impossible! The switch is here in the command room!"
The fifth move.
I took the [Activation Switch] itself and placed it right under the leading skeletons' charge. Bone shattered the lever in an instant. The gate thundered down, the last corridor crushed beneath an immovable wall of iron.
* * *
-Advance, halted.
The report was met with stunned silence, then the command room exploded with cheers. Relief surged through them like fresh air after drowning. They were saved. The town was saved.
But Reina only stared at the screen, where all undead signals blinked out one by one, leaving a single lonely marker still shining. F-rank. Solo. Her chest tightened. The chain of traps, the dungeon itself turned into a weapon—it had all been the work of that man.
The whispered rumor had taken shape before her eyes. A savior born not of gods but of the unlikeliest of mortals.
Her lips moved, her voice swallowed by the roar of celebration.
"...This is... God Solo."
* * *
Meanwhile, in the dungeon's shadowed corner, I leaned against a cold wall, lungs heaving. My hands trembled as the adrenaline bled out of me.
"Good grief... I guess that's that. Now, will the guild be paying me overtime for this, or what?"
(End of Volume Two)