Live Dungeon!

In recent months, Leleia had finally started to blend in with the members of Absolute Helix. The stiff formality she once carried had faded, and she had gradually become just another part of the Clan. But now, with her mask torn away, the ugly truth beneath was laid bare. Her display of cruelty had left most of the Clan members visibly shaken.

Even Amy — who had bristled with fury, her cat ears flattened against her head when Leleia first declared her revenge — was now slumped in her chair, looking utterly deflated. Her mouth hung slightly open, her expression vacant and defeated. The rest of the group wore similarly uneasy faces, a mix of confusion and dismay.

Tsutomu, however, remained unfazed — he had expected this. Clapping his hands together sharply, he drew the room’s attention.

”Those two will be back eventually,” he said, gesturing toward the door Amira and Leleia had stormed out of. ”In the meantime, let’s keep going.”

”Ah… yeah, okay…” Amy murmured distractedly, still dazed.

Without missing a beat, Tsutomu pressed on, diving into the specifics of their Corrupted Shell strategy. Gradually, the room settled. Diniel, predictably, was the first to return to her usual detached demeanor. One by one, the six others began to steady, turning their attention to the documents Tsutomu handed out.

”Wait, so… you’re going to replicate the Corrupted Shell’s attacks yourself?” Amy asked, frowning slightly as she scanned the notes.

”Yeah. I’ve been squeezing in practice between sessions. We’ll start tomorrow — we’ll drill the full-party attack patterns together, so be ready.”

The Corrupted Shell’s wide-area strikes were far more dangerous here than they had been in Live Dungeon — there were no telegraphed effect areas in this world. But based on the footage he had studied from the Monitors, the attack patterns and range hadn’t changed. Tsutomu planned to recreate every single one of those attacks using [, allowing the team to practice avoiding and enduring them until the movements became second nature.

Beyond that, they would drill for every possible contingency: blindfold training to simulate fighting without sight, exercises in silent coordination to prepare for Dark Silence, and countless other grueling routines. In an ideal scenario, Ealdred Crow would reach the fight’s later phases while they were training. But given that Clan’s struggles with the Corrupted Shell’s area attacks, that was unlikely.

”…This is amazing…” Korinna murmured, her voice tinged with awe.

She stared down at the meticulously detailed documents in her hands — every page packed with strategies, drills, and insights. It was not just a plan; it was a fully fleshed-out blueprint for victory.

Tsutomu glanced at her and suddenly remembered something.

”Oh, right. Korinna, you’re not very connected with the Dungeon Maniacs, are you? I noticed you had to gather information on the mutated Shell Crab by yourself last time. I’m thinking I’d introduce you to them sometime soon.”

Her eyes widened slightly. ”Wait, really? You’d do that?”

”Of course. It’s stupid for people in the same Clan to be at a disadvantage just because they have less info. I mean, I didn’t mention this before now since I wasn’t supposed to interfere with your mission, but you saw how valuable that knowledge was during the Shell Crab fight, didn’t you?”

”…Yeah. I did.”

”We’ll stop by and make some introductions. You don’t have to visit them every day, but you should check in regularly. Unlike the market vendors, there are people in the Dungeon Maniacs who won’t sell information no matter how much Gold you offer. You need trust for that.”

The Dungeon Maniacs had started as nothing more than a band of hobbyists — idle spectators obsessed with the Monitors’ broadcasts. But over time, they had grown into a network of pseudo-brokers. Even so, many of the original members still refused to profit from their knowledge.

Tsutomu had built relationships with them through regular visits — practically every week whenever he went to check out the Monitors. It was a practice he had carried over from Live Dungeon, maintaining connections and trading information. Thanks to his frequent meetings with Pico — Xeno’s wife and a particularly well-connected member — his own network had deepened considerably.

After another few hours of tactical discussion, Hannah was practically wilting from the overload of information. Deciding it was enough for the day, Tsutomu finally called an end to the meeting. But just as the tension in the room began to ease, Amy sidled up to him, her arms crossed, and gave him a light nudge with her elbow.

”Hey, Tsutomu,” she said, her voice low and accusatory. ”You knew about Lelee’s… thing, didn’t you?”

He glanced at her with mild disinterest. ”Yeah, I did.”

Amy’s eyes narrowed slightly. ”…Hmm…”

”Look, I didn’t show her any favoritism, if that’s what you’re thinking. I picked her for the team because she deserved it. You can’t blame me for that. Besides… the stuff I told Amira applies partially to you too, you know?” 𝘙ÀNő฿ËⱾ

”…I guess.”

As if sensing Amy’s discomfort, Tsutomu cast a glance toward Garm, who was still pouring over the strategy documents. Amy followed his gaze and immediately scowled.

”Okay, listen — Leleia practiced with everyone,” Tsutomu continued, ”Even the girl she… uh, hated. She never skipped a session, and she never slacked on her individual training. Her motivation was petty, sure — but she still earned her place. She didn’t get in through favoritism. She won it with her own strength.”

”……” Amy pursed her lips, unable to refute him.

”Stop picking on Amy,” Diniel’s voice drawled lazily, butting into the conversation, her eyes half-lidded with disinterest.

”Ugh… don’t defend me, Dini. You also got chosen over me, you know,” Amy groaned, lightly chopping Diniel in the side with her hand. ”It just makes me feel even more pathetic.”

”C’mon, cheer up, Amy. You just gotta try harder next time.”

”Wow. That was almost encouraging — except it was totally unconvincing, coming from YOU!”

”Idiot,” Diniel deadpanned.

Watching their petty exchange, Tsutomu decided they were fine on their own and quietly stepped away.

”W-what do you think happened to Miss Leleia?” Daryl’s voice wavered slightly, his brow furrowed with concern.

”Ah… right. You didn’t know about her thing, huh? So basically, Leleia was part of Amira’s old Clan.”

Tsutomu began to explain the situation to Daryl and the few others who were unaware of the history between the two. Leleia had joined Absolute Helix for one reason only: revenge. She had spent all this time training, biding her time and sharpening her skills, all for the chance to take something — anything — from Amira. And today, she had finally seized that chance.

When Tsutomu finished, Garm — who had been quietly listening with a dark expression — spoke up.

”Tsutomu. Did you approve of Leleia’s revenge?”

”Well… yeah,” Tsutomu admitted. ”I was fine with it. I mean, if she’d gone too far — if she did anything that actually caused harm — I would’ve stopped her. But stealing a spot from Amira with her own strength? Humiliating her a little?” He gave a faint shrug. ”Didn’t seem like a big deal to me. Though, I guess that last… uh, stunt she pulled might’ve crossed the line into ‘actual harm.’”

”Then you should have stopped her,” Garm said firmly. ”Amira… the way she is now — if Leleia had simply talked to her, she would have apologized. She would have made amends. But instead, Leleia chose this convoluted, needlessly cruel path. And I doubt this did anything to improve their relationship. This could have been resolved through honest conversation.”

”Yeah, Amira totally would’ve apologized… But she’s only one side of this conflict. Leleia wouldn’t have forgiven her. No matter how sincerely Amira apologized. Sure, it wasn’t intentional. And yeah, they were in God’s Dungeon, so Leleia could be resurrected. But do you really think an apology is enough to erase the memory of being run through with a greatsword from behind? Of being killed again and again? You might be able to forgive something like that, Garm. But I sure as hell wouldn’t.”

Garm’s jaw tightened slightly, but he had no retort. For most of the older Explorers, the Dungeon’s cycle of death and resurrection had become the new normal — they were used to treating it as a mere setback, and as professionals, they valued reputation and due compensation over safety. But to any ordinary person, it was still death. No amount of Gold or fame could make it any less horrifying.

Seeing the conflicted look on Garm’s face, Tsutomu’s expression softened slightly.

”Look, you’re not wrong. Every other member of Amira’s old Clan forgave her. They accepted her apology and moved on. So yeah, I get where you’re coming from. But Leleia didn’t, and she shouldn’t have to. That wasn’t something she could just ‘get over.’ She needed this. Besides, she’s actually been getting along with everyone pretty naturally lately, hasn’t she? She’s starting to act more like herself. You can see it, can’t you? She’s the same type of person as me.”

Garm’s stern expression wavered slightly at that. ”…I suppose I can see the similarity. But… she’s achieved her revenge now, hasn’t she? So what reason does she have to stay? She has nothing she needs from this Clan anymore.”

Tsutomu’s eyes drifted toward the door, his expression contemplative. ”Yeah, probably not,” he admitted with a casual shrug. ”At least for now, she’ll stick around until we get past the ninetieth layer. She’ll want to be there to rub it in Amira’s face. After that, though… who knows? She might leave.”

”Whaaat!?” Hannah blurted out, her blue wings flaring wide in shock. ”Leleia’s gonna leave!?”

”I said maybe. Though she probably won’t.”

Hannah’s eyes widened in confusion. ”Wha–? Hey! You just said she might! Which is it!?”

”She licked Amira’s face, for crying out loud. Surely you can guess why she would do something like that. As for what happens now, well… we can only wait and see, eh?”

Hannah stared at Tsutomu, wide-eyed and incredulous. Amy, meanwhile, had gone pale, her face twisted in discomfort. Wrapping her arms around herself, she rubbed at her arms, as though trying to ward off a chill.