The air is thick with unease as we gather around the slain goblin. I try to read the room—glances flit between Mira and me, the lingering echoes of her triumph clashing against my own bizarre success.
"Kiriti," she says, breaking the silence, "how exactly did you manage to trigger those MC Moments? Are you hoarding secrets?"
Tam nods eagerly, wide-eyed. "Yeah, what's the deal with that?"
I feign innocence, shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly. "It's simple: dramatic flair and a dash of luck. You know, the usual protagonist stuff."
Mira crosses her arms, skepticism radiating from her like a high-intensity spotlight. "You think you can just waltz in here and collect stat boosts while the rest of us grind through G-Ranks?"
"Hey now," I counter, my grin sharp enough to cut through her doubts. "I didn't choose this life; it chose me."
"Sounds like an excuse for not being able to pull your weight," she shoots back.
A murmur of agreement ripples through our group. I catch Rovel glancing at me like I'm about to swipe his lunch money, while Tam watches on with a mix of admiration and worry.
"I'm not here to play favorites or be your personal stat machine," I retort, letting the sarcasm flow. "But if you're looking for someone to blame for your own choices—"
"Stop acting like you're better than us!" Mira snaps. "We all have a chance to fight! We just need teamwork!"
"Teamwork?" I scoff. "In this world? You'll need more than camaraderie to survive." My gaze sweeps across the chamber, weighing our chances against whatever horrors lurk beyond this moment.
As if summoned by my words, a deep growl rumbles from the shadows—a new foe lurking just out of sight.
"I suggest we focus on surviving first," I say quickly. The group's anxiety mounts again; tension crackles like static in the air.
Mira's expression shifts as she ponders my words. A flicker of understanding passes through her eyes before she shakes it off.
"Enough about you! We need a plan," she declares with newfound determination. "Let's put our strengths together and take down whatever comes next!"
And just like that, a sense of unity begins to form despite the underlying resentment still bubbling beneath the surface.
"We'll take turns distracting it," I suggest, feeling momentum build as we collectively agree on a strategy. "Keep it busy while we find an advantage."
The growling intensifies; whatever beast waits beyond is hungry and impatient.
"Alright!" Mira announces as we huddle together—our spirits rising despite the impending threat.
But then another voice breaks through: Rovel stammers nervously, "What if it knows our weaknesses? What if it's bigger than us?"
"Don't worry!" Tam pipes up with forced enthusiasm, though his face betrays his fear. "If we work together… maybe we can win!"
I suppress a chuckle at how easily they cling to optimism in this unforgiving place.
"Trust me; nothing can be worse than what we've faced already." A devilish grin spreads across my face as another thought occurs to me—a perfect distraction could very well change our odds in an instant.
"Mira," I say casually, nodding toward one corner of the chamber where shadows stretch longer than they should—a flicker catches my eye: something glimmering faintly amidst debris.
"What?" she replies skeptically but intrigued nonetheless.
"That over there looks like it might be treasure or equipment! Something shiny!"
Before anyone else can react—before doubt settles in—I dart toward the corner with deliberate haste. The shadows beckon me forward like an old friend whispering secrets long buried.
"What are you doing?" Mira calls after me as she finally realizes what I'm attempting.
"Just playing the role of hero!" I shout back over my shoulder, my voice dripping with feigned exuberance.
Because let's be honest here; who wouldn't want loot? The promise of treasure glimmers like a beacon in the dark, and it's hard not to feel a surge of enthusiasm at the thought of what we might find.
The rest of the group follows cautiously behind me, their steps hesitant yet filled with a spark of curiosity that hadn't been there moments before.
The potential for treasure ignites a flicker of hope where fear had taken root, and it feels almost electric in the air, crackling like static before a storm.
When I finally reach that glimmering pile, my heart races, thumping against my ribcage like a war drum. I crouch down, fingers brushing against cold metal pieces hidden beneath layers of grime and dust.
A collection of weapons lay dormant yet enticing, each one a promise of power waiting to be awakened by the hands of those daring enough to seize them. I can almost hear them whispering—calling out to me with the allure of potential.
"Mira!" I shout excitedly without thinking twice, adrenaline surging through my veins like wildfire. "Help me dig this out!" The thrill of discovery pulses in my chest, pushing me forward.
The others join without hesitation now, united in purpose—even if that purpose is driven more by greed than camaraderie at this point.
Their faces reflect a mix of trepidation and excitement, a shared understanding that this could either be our salvation or our undoing.
As we begin to uncover more weapons, their forms shining brighter under the flickering torchlight, we momentarily distract ourselves from the looming fate hanging over us like a specter.
Each piece we reveal draws us deeper into another realm entirely: hope tinged with thrill, wrapped in danger—and possibly even opportunity!
The weapons gleam like stars fallen from the sky, each one embodying a chance to change our fortunes.
"Grab what you can!" I shout, my voice rising above the chaos of our frantic digging as excitement floods my veins. In this moment, we are not just desperate souls trapped in a dungeon; we are adventurers, poised on the edge of something magnificent, ready to embrace the risks that come with newfound power.
I spot a sword lying amongst the rubble, its blade shimmering like a beacon of hope—or perhaps a terrible curse. It has an inscription along the hilt: "Requires Intelligence above D-Rank." My heart skips. It's not just any sword; it's a potential game changer.
I clutch the sword, its weight promising more than just metal—it's potential incarnate. STR +5, AGI +3 on a single swing. This isn't just any weapon; it's practically a ticket to survival.
"Guys," I say, excitement bubbling beneath my facade of calm, "this sword requires an INT above D-Rank to wield properly, and look at mine! I'm practically a genius!"
Tam blinks at me, awe mingling with anxiety. "But are you sure? It looks... kinda fancy."
"Fancy is an understatement," I shoot back with a grin. "This baby could turn the tide in our favor. And if it doesn't? Well, at least I'll look good while we're being devoured."
The group stares at me, a mix of fear and newfound hope flickering in their eyes. The goblin's death gave us confidence—now this sword adds fire to that spark.
But as my thoughts spiral into strategy, the ominous growl reverberates through the chamber again—a reminder that victory comes with a price.
"Time to show this dungeon who's boss!" I declare with bravado. But inside? My heart races faster than my brain can keep up with the reality unfolding around us.
"Stick together!" I shout as the beast looms closer.
With a flick of my wrist, the sword hums—waiting for its moment to strike.
I reach for it, fingers wrapping around the cool metal. It feels balanced, weighty in all the right ways. A rush of energy surges through me as if the weapon recognizes its new wielder.
"Kiriti, what are you doing?" Mira hisses, her voice cutting through my triumph.
"Just enhancing my arsenal!" I retort, feeling more like a protagonist with every second. "And guess what? This bad boy needs brains over brawn!"
I raise the sword triumphantly as another glimmer catches my eye—an armguard that practically radiates power, promising bonuses to agility and strength.
The system pings again.
Armguard acquired: +3 AGI, +2 STR!
"Now we're talking," I grin at the group, adrenaline coursing through me as I strap on the armguard. "With these upgrades, I might just turn this dungeon into my personal playground."
They stare at me like I've gone mad—but hey, if I'm going to be their lead character, I might as well do it in style.
"Time to rewrite this script," I declare with newfound confidence. "Let's see how this beast likes a little challenge."
But just as we begin to celebrate our good fortune—dark clouds roll over us like a bad pun—and then we hear it:
A low growl reverberates through the chamber; it vibrates deep within our bones.
The air shifts—the thrill of discovery shatters as a hulking figure emerges from behind a mound of gold: an E-Rank monster radiating power like an inferno against candlelight. Its body is massive; its muscles ripple beneath matted fur that looks less "intimidating" and more "I need a bath."
I gulp audibly as its stats flash above its head:
STR: 35 (E)
AGI: 20 (E)
VIT: 18 (E)
INT: 5 (G)
LCK: 0 (G)
TOTAL: 78 (E)
"Well," I say slowly as reality sets in harder than a rogue wave crashing into your daydreams. "This isn't what I meant by 'loot.'"
A nervous laugh escapes me—defensive humor wrapping around dread like cotton candy around razor blades. My instincts scream at me to run or hide; both options would be equally ineffective against this wall of muscle and malice.
"Everyone back up!" I bark, heart racing faster than it has any right to go.
"We can take it!" someone yells back defiantly.
"No! We really can't! This is not our moment!"
The creature shifts forward menacingly—a low growl echoing through its gnarled throat as if warning us that even attempting heroics here would lead straight to oblivion. My mind races with calculations and worst-case scenarios—how quickly it could shred us into stats nobody would ever remember.
In this moment of panic-infused clarity, I realize something painfully obvious:
"We are so screwed."
It's surreal how quickly optimism turns sour when faced with certain doom—a comedic punchline blurring against reality's cruel canvas. This isn't just another dungeon challenge; this is death wrapped in muscle and fury waiting for us to make our first move before crushing us beneath its bulk.
Mira shoots me a glance full of accusation mixed with fear—like somehow my enthusiasm led us all straight into hell's waiting room—and she's not wrong! A new kind of fear grips my stomach tightens around panic like barbed wire.
Then another thought strikes me hard: If we survive this...
But who am I kidding? The chance feels almost nonexistent now.
"So…who wants to volunteer for distraction duty?"