Hours blurred in relentless cycles, dungeon after dungeon, wolf howls echoing in triumph. By 7 a.m., thirty-seven clears etched exhaustion into his bones, but power surged: over thirteen thousand points, a fortune begging to be spent. The upgrade beckoned, a threshold to greater depths. What beasts would he summon next? The world above waited, oblivious to the storm brewing below.
Alex scanned the stores inventory, finding it barren of useful items as ever. He offloaded his E-rank gear and the duplicates cluttering his space, watching the points trickle in. Satisfied, he activated the Dungeon Editor. The Upgrade Dungeon skill demanded 5000 points, a steep price, but he confirmed without hesitation. A surge of power coursed through him, muscles tightening, senses sharpening as his class ascended to Dungeon Master Rank E.
The dungeon responded instantly, unfurling a new floor that mirrored the stark simplicity of the first two. Eager to push further, Alex allocated 1050 Dungeon Points to extend it to four floors. Each floor hovered at 30% capacity. One day, he mused, those four cramped rooms per floor might merge into vast, echoing chambers, teeming with untold possibilities. The cost of broader expansions beyond the 70% filled with hard rock still a distant dream. The Editor's advanced features felt like endgame rewards, most locked behind exorbitant fees, though a handful remained affordably within reach.
Fresh options bloomed on his interface. A secondary portal caught his eye, promising strategic depth. He positioned its entry on the fourth floor for now, knowing he could relocate it later. Adventurers would still spawn at the primary entrance, but he could now select his own path in or out. Even better, guest access appeared for Luna and Mary, the only names available so far. Maria would need an invitation soon, he decided. Then, an Administrative role unlocked, a godsend that could delegate the endless grind to another.
Gratitude swelled in his chest as he summoned his wolves, one by one. For each loyal beast he called forth, he brought two more out of nothing from his summoning skill, upgrading the one bearing a fresh claw slash along its flank. The merge rippled through fur and flesh, the wound knitting into a faint scar on the newly empowered form. Cycle after cycle, he upgraded his thirty-three wolves with sixty-six summoned, then brought forth 102 fresh E-rank to consolidate into 34 robust D-rank guardians.
With sixty-seven wolves at his command, E-rank threats would crumble effortlessly, and even D-rank incursions might bend to his will. He created 120 E-rank goblins next, fused into 40 D-rank menaces, their scuttling forms eager for orders. "Gather every bone from the first two floors," he commanded, "and pile them along the pathway." Goblins swarmed the lowest level while wolves prowled the upper three, efficiency incarnate.
The dungeon brimmed now, dens overflowing with healthy rabbits. Exhaustion tugged at him; sleep called louder than any alert. He might doze through any official visits, letting the world spin on without him. Alex retreated to his room and collapsed into oblivion.
Three hours later, Luna's gentle shake pulled him from his wet dreams. "The officers spoke with Mary," she murmured, her voice a soft anchor. "It's all cleared up." Before he could fully rouse, she slid down, her lips parting to envelop him in warm, insistent suction. Her tongue swirled with practiced hunger, drawing him deeper until tension coiled tight. He groaned, fingers tangling in her hair as release flooded her mouth, her throat working to claim every pulse. She pulled back with a satisfied gleam, wiping her lips. "Lunch is almost ready. Two rabbits are waiting in the living room."
Alex dragged himself to the shower, the hot spray chasing away the haze. He longed for extra hands, two or three rabbits joining him under the steam, their slick bodies pressing close, exploring every curve and crevice. But reality hurried him along; he scrubbed quickly, emerging to towel off and slip into casual clothes.
He packed a bag with essentials and stowed it away, then checked his messages. Nothing from Beth yet, so he typed: Just up. Heading out to spend time with my sister and her friend Mary for lunch. To Amber, he added: You free today? Unless a D-rank Dungeon Porter gig pulls me away, I've got time for you.
Descending the stairs, her reply buzzed: Free all day, so come whenever you're ready, Master. A string of kiss emojis followed, igniting a spark of anticipation.
In the living room, he settled beside Mary and Maria, offering a warm "Good morning." Their eyes glued to their screens, he leaned in, only to facepalm at the broadcast. Phones in hand, they scrolled through clips of the chaos, the story exploding across feeds.
A street reporter thrust a microphone at passersby, voice cutting through the urban hum. "Sir, ma'am, what do you make of the masked vigilante who delivered street justice nearby?"
An older couple paused, the husband frowning deeply. "What justice? Word is he murdered those folks. He's no hero; he's a criminal."
A bystander shoved forward, voice rising sharp. "Murder? What murder? Didn't you hear about the massacre in room 427? Those scum were the real criminals. This guy's doing what the law won't."
The exchange hung in the air, opinions clashing like storm clouds, leaving Alex to wonder how deep the ripples would spread, and what secrets the mask concealed.
The reporter's eyes lit up, phone already in hand. "There's a video showing that? I'll look it up right now; I have to see this." The crowd surged closer, voices overlapping in a chaotic symphony of opinions, each one sharper than the last. "Did you catch the clip titled 'On the Way to Room 427'? That cabbie posted it fresh after the news broke," one woman shouted, her excitement palpable.
The journalist fumbled for his tablet, tapping furiously. "Sending this to my boss; thanks!" he called over his shoulder, already lost in the footage. Alex rubbed his temple, another facepalm inevitable. The web of secrets spun wider with every share, pulling in strangers who might unknowingly brush against truths best left buried. What if one of those voices recognized a shadow from the night?
Lunch wrapped up amid the buzz, plates cleared and chatter fading. Alex pushed back from the table, announcing, "I'm off to the dungeon for the day; need to keep working hard." Luna pressed two packed kits into his hands, her smile warm and knowing. "Just in case chasing rabbits works up an appetite," she teased in a whisper. He stole a quick kiss, her lips lingering just long enough to stir the familiar heat, then handed over the reins. "Try and have my room up before I get home. I want to eat rabbit meat with you in my new bedroom. "
His belongings had migrated downstairs, a simple reorganization away from ready. Mary would claim his old room. Luna had already scouted beds online, timing the delivery for after noon, a seamless shift in their shared rhythm.
As the engine hummed to life, Alex dialed Amber, the address pulling him toward the cluster of buildings where medical students, teachers, and veteran healers worked to teach medical science at the hospital. "Hey, on my way now," he said, voice steady.
"Okay, Master. I'll be ready when you arrive," she replied, her tone soft and yielding, laced with that innate submission that always quickened his pulse.