"Holy—!"
By the time Sawada Tsunayoshi stepped into the space, it was "holy—!" in every direction. Adventurers stared up at the sky, at the forest, at the towering tree-house, mouths agape, faces stamped with disbelief—the standard loadout.
"Everyone, act normal. And stop opening with 'holy—.'"
Tsuna turned to see Raul, who was busy calming the familia. His spiky hair looked even more skyward than usual—clearly this sight had ruffled him too.
Tsuna sat on the grass to the side and rested quietly. He didn't need to police order here; standby was fine.
Raul still had clout in the familia. Taking the job seriously, he soon had the agitated adventurers back under control.
"Whew."
Silence at last. Raul exhaled and, with the situation stabilized, yielded the floor to the captain.
"Captain."
"Mhm. Thanks, Raul."
Raul stood straighter than ever. Finn only smiled, then faced every pair of eyes on him. This was a perfect opportunity.
"You've all seen it. This is a rest space Tsuna created. The original aim was to solve unsafe rests in the Dungeon—and hygiene for the women—but the scale far exceeds our expectations."
Finn gestured at the forest around them.
"Everything here is real. It's a self-contained miniature world; that comes straight from Loki. The sun, moon, and stars above aren't fakes. Treat this as a small world providing rest, safety, water, and storage."
"I trust you understand what that means. We're an exploration familia. Even without Guild-mandated expeditions, we push the Dungeon on our own cadence. If not for the city-wide conflict three years ago, our schedule wouldn't have stalled."
Everyone here had lived through or learned of that upheaval. Without it, Loki Familia might never have shifted course—yet it was also what propelled Finn, Riveria, and Gareth to Level 6, while freezing their exploration for over a year. The Dungeon's own upheavals, and remnants of the Dark Faction—these were the factors that shaped "expedition."
They'd been stuck long enough. Everyone had been itching for expedition—and for a step forward.
"We come from all over, with our own ambitions and aims—but we share an ideal: conquer the Dungeon, reach the unknown, fulfill the adventurer's three great commissions. Yet our exploration has always had limits."
"Those limits came from our strength—and from 'abnormalities' that sometimes crop up in the Dungeon and stall our pace. Unsafe 'safe zones,' never truly relaxing even when resting—those are the Dungeon's ongoing trials."
"In the past, we could only grit our teeth. Logistics still put a hard cap on us. But those troubles are past tense. From today, our Dungeon strategy moves into a new mode."
"We can collect far more magic stones and drops, boosting expedition income every time. We won't need to pay Rivira's markup for emergency resupply. Everyone will get more live-combat reps; even if you're injured, it's fine—this gives us a place to station and treat the wounded."
Eyes lit up across the room. This was about each adventurer's livelihood and future; every ear locked in.
They all grasped how huge this space was for them.
They'd all suffered the pains Finn named: progress halted by Dungeon trouble; comrades dropping mid-push; becoming dead weight. Now, those would ease. Someone had built a space that solved their old problems—so they could fight without shackles, knowing there was a place to mend.
Expeditions were lucrative. Deep-floor monsters were strong, and their stones and drops were valuable. Before, transport limits forced them to prioritize medicines and only the highest-value drops. If they could haul everything back now, the familia's finances would climb sharply.
This space solved rest and survival, solved supply lines, and solved the drops-selection problem—reducing survival pressure and strengthening the familia's economy. Direct, tangible benefits.
"But such convenience will draw other gods' covetous eyes. We need protective measures for Tsuna, the one who created this space, and ensure nothing leaks."
Right! Heads nodded all around. Everyone knew the rookie's power was over-tuned; no one expected a newcomer to achieve this. Which only meant they had to keep it secret and safe.
Almost instinctively, every gaze settled on Raul—some appraising, some wary.
"I mean you, Raul."
…I know. Raul's cheek twitched. He'd already guessed that once the talk turned to protecting the rookie, he'd be the one under focus fire. And he knew he had no right to protest—he really was the leaky bucket.
(End of Chapter)
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