[Redcaps] 22
The Redcaps had multiplied even further.
Andre was right—this needed to be dealt with immediately.
According to Paimon, these Redcaps were drifting in from the surrounding areas. If left unchecked, they'd cause serious damage to even the goblin villages nearby.
Unfortunately, the orcs had already been attacked. Casualties were reportedly heavy.
So that's why there were so few of them, huh.
Apparently, goblins and orcs were demons, while Redcaps were monsters. Honestly, if Paimon hadn't explained it to me, I'd probably have marched out there all fired up, yelling something like, "First battle's gotta be against goblins or slimes, right!?" and gone on a massacre.
Oh, and slimes are monsters too. I really can't tell the difference.
For now, the Redcaps were sticking together. If they scattered, things would get annoying.
"Confirming—Redcaps."
From above, I could see the group through an aerial view.
Redcaps were ugly creatures—like someone had crossed a rat with a dog and then drenched it in pure malice. They stood about five feet tall. Compared to their bodies, their heads were absurdly huge.
Their crimson manes looked kind of like mohawks. They were breathing raggedly, maybe worked up or excited—any second now, I half-expected them to start screaming "WOOOO!!" like maniacs.
They barely stood on two legs, but their beastly traits were so strong that moving on all fours would obviously be faster.
The positions of living things showed up as white dots on my smartphone. So I didn't really need to confirm visually. But still—this was my first official job as a Dungeon Master. I wanted to see it with my own eyes.
"『Create』 dungeon... okay. Trap? A pitfall should work. Ah, no need for this much space. Height two meters, width seven meters, length five hundred meters... yeah, about this."
A narrow corridor formed, just big enough to barely contain the Redcap swarm. The material was plain stone. It'd be dark inside, so I added torches too—one hundred total, spaced every ten meters on both walls. To be honest, this wasn't out of kindness.
"Alright, done."
'You can't save unless escape is possible.'
"Oh, right. Forgot to make an exit. Might as well make an entrance too."
I created small openings about a meter high at both ends of the corridor.
"That should do it... Yeah, okay. Save!"
The Redcaps in my view suddenly started panicking.
Well, no surprise there. You're walking across an open plain, and suddenly you're shoved into a cramped tunnel.
All the torches lit up at once, flooding the stone corridor with bright light.
"Are these guys stupid?"
The moment the lights came on, the Redcaps scattered in all directions.
"Monsters have almost no intelligence," Paimon said.
Paimon proved right almost immediately.
Half the Redcaps fell into the first pitfall.
None of them even noticed the entrance behind them.
Well, not that it mattered—once you enter, that entrance doesn't open again unless the intruder dies or escapes.
At this rate, all the effort I'd put into designing this would make me look like an idiot.
The pitfalls weren't just holes, though. Step on one, and the floor tilted, forming a steep slope on the entrance side that you could climb if you tried hard enough. The exit side was, of course, a sheer wall.
I'd even built in a weakness—the trap didn't activate unless multiple people stepped on it at once.
The Redcaps were all desperately scrambling up the slope. Moving on all fours really did seem faster.
The pitfall was four meters wide, about ten meters deep and long. It was possible to go around.
The ones lucky enough to bypass it fell into the next pitfall instead.
See, this corridor looked like a straight path—but it was actually designed so you couldn't progress without making sharp zigzag turns.
Only a loner could pass straight through.
'Master,' the system interface announced, 'while this trap is effective at slowing them down, it's not eliminating them at all. Isn't the danger level too low?'1
"Danger level" was basically dungeon difficulty. Floors with no mortal danger had low danger levels; floors with vicious traps had high ones.
Higher danger levels cost more to maintain. Lower levels cost less.
Maintaining a dungeon required energy.
There were two ways to refill it: I could pour in my own magical power, or the dungeon would absorb it from creatures, monsters, or even small bits of organic matter that died inside.
The danger scale went from one to ten. This corridor was a level three.
Probably determined by the number and nature of the traps, but—
Too soft—as if I'd build some casual easy-mode dungeon.2
These traps? They were the brutal version I planned to place in the mid-game when I expanded the dungeon later.
If anything, they were so vicious that only a loner could clear them.
'Ah! Master,' the system interface said, 'the Redcap numbers are starting to drop.'
Yeah, about time.
In the distance, several Redcaps collapsed.
The others stood gasping, struggling to stay upright.
At the same time, the torches began going out.
In this corridor—with limited height, width, and length—burning a hundred torches constantly used up the oxygen. On top of that, all the traps here were designed to stall intruders, which forced anyone caught in them to push themselves hard.
In other words—
This floor was an oxygen-deprivation trap zone.
"Still, those dumb Redcaps made it more than halfway through. Okay. Width to five meters, torch spacing to every five meters too," I muttered.
Obviously, I'd narrow the pitfall width as well. Can't save unless the dungeon is clearable, right?
"—Wait, I can't save, huh..."
So doubling the torches was overkill after all.
I restored the torch count to the original number.
Oh. Looks like the Redcaps are all dead now.
Well, once the oxygen runs out, doesn't matter how many there are.
So, for my first job as Dungeon Master—how'd I do?
Summary:
The Protagonist creates a narrow corridor dungeon trap to handle the Redcap swarm, filling it with pitfall traps and torches. The Redcaps fall for the initial traps but manage to progress halfway through the corridor before the oxygen depletion strategy begins taking effect. The system interface questions the low danger level, but the Protagonist reveals the traps are actually mid-game brutal versions designed for future expansion, not casual content.
Trivia:
The Protagonist is new to being a Dungeon Master and this is their first official job.
Redcaps are monsters, while goblins and orcs are demons—a distinction the Protagonist struggles to remember.
The Protagonist uses a smartphone to track living creature positions via white dots.
The corridor is designed with a zigzag pattern that only a single person walking straight can bypass easily.
The traps are not simple pitfalls—they create steep slopes on the entrance side and sheer walls on the exit side.
The pitfall traps only activate when multiple people step on them simultaneously.
The corridor has 100 torches placed 10 meters apart, designed to deplete oxygen gradually.
Dungeon danger levels range from 1 to 10, with this corridor rated at level 3.
Higher danger levels cost more magic energy to maintain; lower levels cost less.
The dungeon absorbs energy from any creatures, monsters, or organic matter that die inside it.
The traps in this corridor are actually prototype versions for mid-game content, not beginner-friendly.
The save function requires the dungeon to be clearable by escape or complete elimination.
The Redcap swarm originally numbered 22, though many appear to have been lost before the chapter starts.
The Protagonist doubles the torch count initially but reverts it after realizing they can't save with the harder configuration.
The corridor dimensions: 2 meters high, 7 meters wide, 500 meters long.
Translation Notes:
1 ↩ Japanese term "危険度" (kikendo) refers to a numerical dungeon difficulty rating system (1-10) that determines maintenance costs and energy requirements. Higher danger levels consume more magical energy to maintain.
2 ↩ Japanese slang "ぬるゲー" (nuruge) combines "nurui" (weak/lukewarm) with "ge" (game) to mean an overly easy, casual game. The Protagonist uses this to dismiss the idea of building beginner-friendly content.
Notes:
• Andre - A demon of the sixty-fifth rank in Solomon's seventy-two demons, appearing in the form of a peacock. Acts as a conductor of sophistry and a support interface for the dungeon master. Bestows knowledge of surveying, astronomy, and geometry. Displays a formal, refined demeanor with hidden warmth and genuine concern for her master's safety, though she expresses frustration through sharp lecturing. Colleague of the narrator. Speaks to the Demon Lord without fear. Blunt and sarcastic. Uses insults casually but reveals underlying care through actions. Functions as the straight-man tsukkomi character. The protagonist's smartphone companion who serves as both advisor and voice of reason. Speaks with polite, respectful deference while occasionally expressing exasperation at the master's priorities. Questions the safety of dungeon designs and serves as a grounding presence to the protagonist's whims.
• Paimon - An orphaned, shy ogre companion serving Amduskias with deep deference. Appearing as a 190cm tall, handsome female with an ash-gray body, a single jet-black horn, golden eyes, and a voluptuous yet muscular build, she mimics the protagonist's posture. Knowledgeable and polite, she acts as a guide on local threats and monsters, often stammering nervously while providing essential supplies and information.
• Master - The dungeon master and protagonist of the story. A self-aware individual who acknowledges his own laziness and tendency to prioritize comfort over dungeon management. Possesses absurdly high stats and a vast array of skills despite being Level 1. Maintains a casual, modern internal monologue with self-deprecating humor.
• Protagonist - A reincarnated Demon Lord and one-horned ogre, this young man awakens in a stone room with memories lost but his genius in science, magic, and crafting intact. A pragmatic, genre-savvy loner, he adapts to his new role as a Dungeon Master, using a smartphone and his companion Andre to over-engineer defenses. Despite his god-like powers and technical obsession with building baths, he masks deep isolation.