"Anyway, Tsuna, what were you thinking going off on your own like that?"
After hearing the general situation, Finn immediately went after the next pressing issue—Tsuna's solo operation.
"Yeah," Gareth grunted. "The old man's curious about that too."
Under their questioning gazes, Tsuna began to explain—about the whisper he'd heard by his ear, his own suspicions and worries about it, and how that led him to act alone.
"I see."
Once he finished, Finn and Gareth exchanged knowing looks.
"If it wasn't a fight and just a rescue, then yeah, your ability's perfect for that."
He could send puppets to the target location, then use the Space Rabbits to pull the wounded into the Alternate Dimension. That completely made up for the rabbits' weakness against fast-moving enemies.
They couldn't pin down quick opponents—but they could always save the injured.
He'd taken the functionality of the Space Rabbits to the extreme, making it possible to carry out rescues anytime, anywhere.
It was an ability perfectly suited for Dungeon expeditions—an invaluable form of support.
"Tsuna," Finn said, crossing his arms, "explain how the Dungeon's mechanism works again."
He'd barely finished sighing before steering the conversation back to the real issue. The Dark Faction had managed to use this strange system to devastate the Astraea Familia and cause such a bloody mess—this was something they had to understand.
"When the damage on a particular floor of the Dungeon reaches a certain threshold," Tsuna began, "it triggers what's called a 'cleaning mode.' The Dungeon sends out a Cleaner—or more properly called a Juggernaut—a monster powerful enough to wipe out anything on that floor."
"The Dark Faction must've discovered that mechanism by accident. Since then, they've been experimenting with it over and over, which is what caused all the recent 'abnormalities' in the Dungeon."
"I see…"
Both Finn and Gareth's faces hardened.
"To think the Dungeon had a system like that. When it takes too much damage, it actually retaliates. Lucky we found out beforehand."
"Yeah," Gareth muttered. "But it's bad news that the Dark Faction got wind of it. Those bastards love setting traps. We'll have to stay alert for any ambushes they might pull down there."
Both men thought the same thing—the Dark Faction's ambush tactics were legendary.
The Astraea Familia was living proof of what happened when you let your guard down.
They turned to Tsuna, the only one who'd actually seen the Juggernaut in action.
"Tsuna, what exactly can this 'Juggernaut' do? The Astraea Familia isn't weak. How could they have been taken out like that?"
"They're not weak," Tsuna admitted, "but the Juggernaut's ability is far more dangerous."
He knew better than anyone how strong Astraea's children were. If they'd been weak, they wouldn't have been on the thirtieth floor—and the Dark Faction wouldn't have needed to sic a Juggernaut on them.
"The Juggernaut's strength scales with the floor level. Its body looks dried out, almost like a crawling dragon. Its entire structure's made of Magic Stones, which makes it insanely tough. Even a second-tier weapon can barely scratch it, let alone deal a fatal blow. Meanwhile, its claws can pierce through regular steel like paper."
He paused, his expression grim.
"It's not just tough—it's fast. When I encountered it on the thirtieth floor, it outran my puppet before I even realized it had moved. And the worst part? It can reflect magic—at double the power."
Both Finn and Gareth sucked in sharp breaths.
That wasn't just bad—that was broken. Reflecting magic alone was terrifying enough. But doubling the output? That made it the ultimate nightmare for mages.
"So it's resistant to physical attacks, bounces back magic, and can break first-tier weapons. Not slow either. In short, an unkillable monster," Gareth summarized grimly.
"Yeah," Finn muttered. "That thing practically counters all three of us."
The two men shared the same conclusion—and the same headache.
Watching their troubled expressions, Tsuna tilted his head thoughtfully. "In that case, Finn, Gareth… want to train a bit? Just in case we ever run into a Juggernaut again."
The two veterans exchanged glances before staring at him together.
"…You mean you can make one?"
"Sure can." Tsuna smiled faintly. "As long as I know the details, I can reproduce it through imagination."
He raised a hand. A palm-sized figurine of the Juggernaut materialized instantly.
"I can create beasts that absorb mana or ones that reflect magic. Why wouldn't I be able to make a Juggernaut?"
Finn stared at the miniature monster in disbelief, fully realizing just how insane Tsuna's ability truly was. But instead of fear, something else flickered in his eyes—ambition.
"Once this expedition's over," he said quietly, "we'll train properly."
…Ais, I think I finally understand your hunger for strength.
For the first time in a long while, Finn felt the spark of progress ignite within him.
He'd been held back by countless responsibilities and restrictions—but once free of them, that desire to grow burned brighter than ever.
Gareth felt it too.
"Tsuna, your ability's damn near all-purpose," the dwarf said gruffly. "But if we're going all out against something like that, we might end up with a few missing limbs."
"I can heal that."
Tsuna blinked innocently as he dropped the bombshell, leaving both Finn and Gareth staring blankly.
"I already thought about healing during my prep phase. Fixing severed limbs was one of the first problems I tested—and it worked out perfectly."
"Honestly, I should've mentioned it sooner. But things were hectic, and Miss Loki specifically told me to keep the Healing Rabbit a secret for now."
To make his claim more believable, Tsuna added, "You know that gloomy courtyard at the edge of the Twilight Manor? After I created the Healing Rabbit, Miss Loki took me there right away. There were plenty of volunteers for treatment."
Finn and Gareth were speechless.
There was nothing left to doubt.
"Tsuna," Finn said finally, his lips curving into a grin, "when this expedition's over, we've got a lot to talk about."
With their doubts gone, both men felt their old drive for growth flare up again—stronger than ever before.