Constantine turned the problem over carefully.
The System ran the Shop. That was undeniable. Any item purchased there would presumably pass through the same interface that had already been weaponized against him in multiple ways.
Under ordinary reasoning, the Shop was exactly as risky as the Inventory or the Forge.
But items and Skills were not the same thing.
This was the distinction that kept pulling his attention back.
Items were external objects managed through a menu—retrievable on demand, beholden at some level to the System that controlled access. The Inventory functioned the same way. So did anything that passed through the Forge. Every piece of equipment that moved through those systems was, by definition, within reach.
Skills were different.
Constantine returned to the memory that had lodged itself at the back of his mind since the confrontation with the three Adventurers. He had been cornered, half-destroyed, crawling toward a treasure chest with nothing keeping him alive except Miasma Emission.
The System had known exactly how precarious that situation was. It had watched every second of that fight and had every reason in the world to act on it.
It hadn't disabled his Skill.
'If it could interfere with Skills, that was the moment,' he reasoned quietly. 'It didn't. Which means it couldn't.'
Skills were absorbed directly into the user at the moment of acquisition—they became part of the host rather than existing as an external object in a storage menu. The System's ability to tamper was apparently limited to surfaces it could access from the outside. Whatever was integrated internally was beyond its reach.
'If I buy a Skill from the Shop,' Constantine concluded, 'that Skill is genuinely mine.'
He opened the Shop—not because the System's Note had suggested it, but because his own logic had arrived there independently.
As for why the System suggested it, perhaps it was trying to use reverse psychology.
It must have already figured out that Constantine was suspicious of it, and would take any advice it gave with a grain of salt. So, by suggesting using the Shop, the System was essentially trying to make him do the opposite.
'Hehe… You can't fool me!'
{SYSTEM SHOP}
<<Browse by Category>>
Skills / Items / Equipment / Consumables / Special
The first thing he checked was his System Points.
The three question marks from his Status Window resolved the moment the interface opened. A Floor Boss reward, held back until he directly engaged with the marketplace.
'A total of 500 Points? How generous,' he thought, with zero warmth.
He moved past the Items and Equipment categories without interest.
There was decent stock for 500 points.
A few Rare weapons and supplementary gear that, under different circumstances, might have warranted consideration. However, since there was a chance they would be taken directly to his Inventory, he couldn't risk it.
Under these circumstances, he wasn't here for items.
He navigated to Skills and opened the Utility section at the bottom of the catalogue.
Most entries were minor additions—map annotation tools, enhanced sensory detection, and even a language comprehension Skill that was redundant given his existing racial trait. He scrolled past them without stopping until something near the very end of the list caught his eye.
[Subspace (Skill)]
{The user manifests a personal dimensional pocket that exists entirely outside the bounds of conventional storage systems. Subspace operates independently of all external interfaces and cannot be accessed or modified by any party other than the user. Cost: 450 System Points}
'Finally what I want!'
Constantine read the description once.
Then read it again.
{…Outside the bounds of conventional storage systems.
… Cannot be accessed or modified by any party other than the user.}
'This is perfect.'
He purchased it without deliberating further.
[Skill Acquired: Subspace]
[System Notice]
{I see you've found Subspace. An interesting choice, Host. I hope it serves you well! :)}
Constantine observed the smiley face for a long moment.
Whatever the System actually felt about this purchase bore very little resemblance to enthusiasm.
The Skill manifested immediately—a new spatial awareness that bloomed quietly at the edge of his consciousness.
There was no interface for the System to intercept or manipulate. It was just a dimensional pocket that was entirely, unconditionally his, responsive only to his own intent.
He turned to the pile of loot and began working through it.
Ghost Iron Fragments, one by one.
The Gem pouches—several of them, satisfyingly heavy.
The Rare bow.
The Common sword.
Every crafting material he'd identified.
His cracked Ordinary Sharp Sword, too damaged to rely on but worth holding for potential future value.
Item by item, the pile disappeared.
When the floor was bare and every last piece secured, Constantine stood in the empty space and checked his remaining System Points.
He considered spending them.
50 wasn't much, but the Shop had more to offer and 50 was still something.
'No…' He quickly dismissed the idea.
In an environment this unpredictable, a reserve was always worth more unspent than whatever it might buy on an ordinary day. He would hold it for an emergency.
Constantine took stock clearly.
The Forge was compromised and the Inventory was a liability.
Those two conclusions eliminated the conventional paths to equipment entirely and left him with one reliable option: drops. Everything he built from here would come directly from kills—no intermediary system he couldn't trust, no staging ground for another trap.
It wasn't the most efficient model.
But it was trustworthy.
He knew these Dungeons well enough to work with that constraint. He knew the drop tables for most enemies across multiple floors. Clearing Danger Zones consistently and targeting high-value enemies would build him a workable arsenal through attrition alone.
It would simply require more fighting than a standard Player might prefer.
That was fine.
He pulled up his mental map and moved toward the eastern section of the first floor—the descent corridor he had committed to memory years ago, now accessible after the Boss kill. The dungeon's energy had already shifted around the passage entrance, a subtle pressure change that indicated a new territory opening beneath him.
Constantine stopped at the threshold and glanced back once at the cleared first floor behind him.
The Awakening Cave. The Goblin ambush. The three dead Adventurers. The Safe Zone that tried to become his grave. The Boss Room that nearly finished the job.
All of it, cleared.
'Not bad for a dead man,' he thought.
He turned back and stepped into the descent.