The puppet plummeted quickly through the air, its presence already diminished to the point that even the Amphisbaena didn't notice it at all.
"Whew~."
Just before landing, the ring on the puppet's hand flickered, and a cushion of wind formed beneath it, slowing the fall and setting it gently on the ground.
"Oh~ nice function. A wind barrier that forms right before impact to cancel fall damage. Pretty clever."
Finn couldn't help but admire it. Small gadgets like these often proved invaluable in critical moments.
"If your creations could function without your direct control, I'm sure Hephaestus would be dying to recruit you."
Finn had long since figured out that Tsuna's abilities couldn't yet act outside his line of sight. That was why he'd given Ais and the others manually adjustable tools rather than autonomous constructs.
"The goddess of forging would probably get a massive headache dealing with me," Tsuna said with a half-smile. "My ability completely ignores the concept of 'crafting.' I just imagine what I want a monster to do, and it manifests. My compatibility with her... yeah, it's about as bad as it gets."
He didn't need to think hard to realize that his power clashed with Hephaestus's ideals on every level.
"Honestly, it's not just her. Any commerce-based Familia would probably hate me. My ability completely breaks their entire business model."
"Fair point."
Finn imagined it—Tsuna effortlessly creating monsters through imagination alone, while merchant Familias worked tirelessly for their profits. The contrast was absurd. With a power like that, any economy built on effort would crumble instantly.
"Tsuna, can your monsters really maintain their shape and function—and even be used by others?"
Tsuna's response came without hesitation.
"Absolutely."
Every Sacred Gear adapted to its wielder's will, reshaping itself according to the user's intent.
"Finn, how long have I even been an adventurer? You really think I've already mastered everything my ability can do? No matter how much you expect from me, I can't be perfect in such a short time."
Finn laughed softly. "It's just hard to see you as a rookie, you know?"
Annihilation Maker had given Tsuna far too much power and versatility. Even he had to admit—he didn't really look like a newcomer anymore. Tsuna shook his head slightly but didn't argue.
He glanced upward.
The floor boss was still above. It didn't seem to have noticed their movements. Tsuna let out a quiet breath of relief. This was the first time he'd used his concealment ability in front of a mutated floor boss, and he'd been worried it might not work properly. Guess he'd been overthinking it.
Still, they needed to get out of the Great Waterfall as fast as possible. Tsuna steadied his breathing and refocused.
"Finn, guide the next path."
"Yeah. Keep moving forward along the river's flow. There's a slope ahead where the water rushes downward. The entrance to the next floor is right beside it."
Understanding the route, Tsuna controlled his puppet to move forward.
Through the Alternate Dimension's vision, he could see countless monsters lurking in the shadows, waiting silently like hunters ready to strike.
"If we fight here, the Amphisbaena would probably chase us from behind, right?"
A bead of cold sweat rolled down Tsuna's neck. The middle floors were crawling with what he could only describe as walking alarm systems.
"This kind of situation mostly happens in the middle floors," Finn explained. "Once you reach the lower and deep levels, monsters don't hide anymore—they just charge straight at you."
Even just listening to him, Tsuna could tell how brutal front-line expeditions really were. Adventurers constantly danced on the edge of death, locked in an endless waltz with monsters.
"Front-liners really have it rough, huh."
"It's normal. The Dungeon isn't a vacation spot. Down here, life and death are constant companions. One moment you're chatting with a friend, the next... they're gone, eaten by a monster."
Tsuna fell silent at that.
He knew Finn wasn't joking. The Dungeon was never meant to be kind. The stories he'd heard or read before had always glossed over the gore—filtered for approval, sanitized for audiences. The reality was far worse.
Finn noticed his silence and turned to him. "Can't accept it?"
"...Yeah. Guess not. I'm just an ordinary guy from a safe world. If someone I'd just been talking to died right in front of me—and I could accept that easily—I'd probably be a lunatic."
Finn nodded slightly. He didn't see that as weakness. It was normal. Anyone who could calmly accept such loss would be the strange one. Even veteran adventurers never got used to it.
"If you can't accept it," Finn said quietly, "then change it."
He dropped the words like they were obvious. In this world, if something couldn't be accepted, then it had to be changed.
"We can't really accept it either. Every death hits us hard. That's why we move carefully, step by step. We could go faster, sure—but faster means less safe."
"Our strength isn't that great, so we survive by sticking together and advancing little by little. Your arrival... changed that, even if just a bit. Your ability fits the Dungeon perfectly—it's helped us pick up the pace."
Change it...
The words lingered in Tsuna's mind. He stayed silent for a while, then finally lifted his head.
"I don't know if I can really change this world... but I'm not gonna stand by and let the Dungeon swallow the people I care about."
Finn smiled, warm and genuine.
"That's a good answer."