Phosphorescent fungi cast a sickly blue-green glow across the small alcove they'd claimed as a temporary haven. Kiriti leaned against the cool stone wall, watching the others through half-lidded eyes while feigning rest.
Elyse sat cross-legged in the corner, lips moving in silent prayer, her pendant clutched so tightly her knuckles had whitened. Every few moments, her gaze would flick toward him, lingering just long enough for Kiriti to note the unease there before returning to her devotions.
Rovel had positioned himself equidistant from everyone, meticulously sharpening a makeshift bone dagger. The methodical scraping couldn't disguise how his attention remained fixed on Kiriti's every small movement. Those hollow cheeks tightened whenever Kiriti shifted position, eyes calculating, measuring.
Mira was the most transparent in her discomfort. She'd deliberately chosen to sit with her back to him, maintaining the maximum possible distance the alcove allowed. Her shoulders remained rigid, head turning sharply at any sound from the tunnels beyond.
Fascinating how quickly group dynamics deteriorate when power imbalance becomes apparent, Kiriti thought, mentally cataloging their behaviors. Classic NPC response patterns to a rapidly over-leveling protagonist.
During his writing career, he'd created dozens of scenarios like this—the side characters growing resentful of the hero's advancement, the tension building to either betrayal or renewed loyalty. The variables were predictable: fear, jealousy, self-preservation, pragmatism.
"We should move soon," Mira announced abruptly, still not turning to face him. "These small chambers are death traps if something finds us."
"Agreed," Kiriti said, deliberately making his voice sound weary. "Just needed a moment to stabilize after that stat increase. It takes some... adjustment."
He saw Rovel's jaw tighten at the reminder.
"Does it hurt?" Elyse asked, genuine curiosity momentarily overriding her suspicion. "When the Goddess grants her blessing?"
"Not pain," Kiriti replied, carefully crafting his response to sound both humble and slightly mysterious. "More like... expansion. As if parts of me were previously constrained by invisible barriers that suddenly dissolved."
Give them something they can't relate to but will find intriguing, he calculated. Reinforce the specialness without appearing to brag.
"Fascinating," Rovel muttered, his analytical mind clearly working despite his resentment. "The system must be rewriting fundamental physical parameters on an individual basis."
Mira finally turned, her expression guarded. "Well, if you're done expanding, F-Rank, some of us G-Ranks would like to keep moving before we die in this hole."
The pointed emphasis on their ranks wasn't subtle. Kiriti suppressed a smile.
Excellent, he thought. She's establishing the hierarchy explicitly, making sure everyone remains conscious of it. Perfect emotional priming.
"I've been thinking about our path," Kiriti said as they gathered their meager possessions. "There are three tunnels ahead. The left one slopes upward, which might lead to an exit."
"Then we take the left," Mira said immediately.
"Perhaps," Kiriti replied, injecting just enough doubt into his voice. "But remember what happened when the tunnels shifted before? Sometimes in dungeons, the obvious path is a trap."
"So what do you suggest?" Rovel asked, eyeing him carefully.
"The center passage," Kiriti said confidently. "It remains level, suggesting we stay on this dungeon floor. We might find better equipment or resources before attempting to leave."
He had no actual knowledge about which path was safer, but the center passage appeared narrower, with more shadows and alcoves—perfect for ambushes and "heroic" interventions.
"You want us to go deeper into danger?" Mira challenged.
"I want us to be prepared when we eventually face whatever is making that rumbling sound," Kiriti countered smoothly. "But of course, it's a group decision."
He knew it wasn't. Not really. Their survival instincts would override their resentment, forcing them to follow the only F-Rank among them. That was the beauty of this system—it created natural dependency through pure statistical advantage.
After a predictable round of grumbling, they chose the center passage.
Kiriti led the way, deliberately setting a pace slightly too fast for comfort, forcing the others to strain to keep up. The passage narrowed further, requiring them to proceed single-file.
"Keep alert," he whispered back to them. "Rovel, watch our rear. Mira, stay close behind me. Elyse, between Mira and Rovel."
Classic formation control, he thought. Establish leadership through spatial positioning while placing the strongest remaining fighter where she'll be most frustrated—following rather than leading.
The strategy worked perfectly. Within minutes, Mira's breathing had become more forceful, her footsteps heavier as frustration built. Rovel's analytical mind would be spinning with observations about Kiriti's tactical choices. Elyse, perpetually seeking authority figures, would be conflicted between her religious framework and her growing doubts.
A perfect emotional pressure cooker.
Twenty minutes into their trek, Kiriti detected a shift in the air current—a subtle hint of multiple heat sources ahead. He deliberately said nothing, maintaining pace. When they rounded the next bend, the passage opened into a modest chamber where three goblin sentries sat around a small fire, gnawing on bones.
Kiriti held up his hand, stopping the group just before they would have been spotted. He leaned back, whispering instructions just loud enough for all to hear.
"Three of them, standard F-Rank by the look of it. We'll need coordination." He turned to Mira. "You take point this time. I'll hang back and intervene if needed."
Her eyes widened fractionally in surprise, then narrowed with suspicion. "Why the sudden generosity?"
"Not generosity," he replied smoothly. "Strategy. You're our second strongest fighter. We should maximize your combat experience."
And place you in the most vulnerable position while making it seem like an opportunity, he added silently.
"Fine," she said, gripping her bone club tighter.
"Elyse, distract the leftmost goblin," Kiriti continued. "Rovel, analyze their movements and call out patterns. I'll cover anyone who gets in trouble."
As they prepared to attack, Kiriti noticed Rovel studying the goblins with unusual intensity. The hollow-cheeked boy seemed to be mentally rehearsing something.
"Now," Kiriti whispered.
Mira burst into the chamber with surprising speed, her club already swinging toward the nearest goblin. The creature barely had time to look up before the makeshift weapon connected with its shoulder—a solid hit, but not immediately incapacitating.
Numbers appeared above each goblin:
Goblin Sentry #1 (F-Rank): STR: 8 AGI: 9 VIT: 7 INT: 6 LCK: 4 TOTAL: 34 Goblin Sentry #2 (F-Rank): STR: 4 AGI: 5 VIT: 4 INT: 3 LCK: 2 TOTAL: 18 Goblin Sentry #3 (F-Rank): STR: 12 AGI: 13 VIT: 11 INT: 7 LCK: 5 TOTAL: 48
The injured goblin shrieked, alerting its companions. All three scrambled to their feet, baring yellowed fangs and reaching for crude weapons.
"The right one is favoring its left leg!" Rovel called out, fulfilling his assigned role. Then, unexpectedly, he stepped forward, raising his bone dagger high.
"Behold the might of a true warrior!" he shouted, his voice cracking slightly. "Your doom is at hand!"
The dramatic declaration hung awkwardly in the air for a moment before the goblins responded with confused snarls. The one nearest Rovel lunged at him, its speed belying its awkward gait. The boy was clearly unprepared for the swift response to his proclamation. The goblin's club caught him in the ribs, sending him sprawling backwards with a pained gasp.
Interesting, Kiriti noted, deliberately holding his position. He's trying to mimic the heroic declaration that triggered my first MC Moment.
Elyse had successfully drawn the attention of the leftmost goblin, but rather than retreating as instructed, she raised her pendant.
"By the divine light of the Eternal Goddess," she proclaimed, voice trembling slightly, "I banish you to the shadow realm from whence you came!"
Nothing happened except the goblin tilting its head in apparent confusion before charging her. Elyse barely evaded its grasp, stumbling backward with a startled cry.
She's attempting to trigger a divine intervention moment, Kiriti observed. Predictable.
Mira was handling herself better, having managed to drive her goblin back with several aggressive strikes. But Kiriti could see she was overextending, leaving her flanks exposed in her desperation to land a killing blow.
"Watch your left!" he called out, timing his warning deliberately so it would come just a fraction too late.
The second goblin circled around and raked its claws across Mira's arm. She cried out, staggering sideways, her face contorted with pain and rage.
"Cover Rovel!" Kiriti called to Elyse, still not engaging directly. He needed to let the situation deteriorate just enough before intervening.
Elyse scrambled toward Rovel, who was struggling to regain his feet while clutching his side. The goblin advanced on them, its fanged mouth stretching in what almost looked like a grin.
Now, Kiriti decided, finally drawing his dagger. He moved with his newly enhanced Agility, crossing the chamber in a smooth burst of speed that surprised even him. His first strike caught the goblin attacking Elyse and Rovel at the base of its skull, killing it instantly.
Without pausing, he pivoted toward Mira, who was now desperately fending off two goblins simultaneously. Blood ran down her left arm, her movements growing more frantic by the second.
Kiriti slid in beside her, his dagger deflecting a strike aimed at her head.
"Together!" he called out, deliberately echoing their previous successful tactic. "On three!"
The familiar command seemed to center her. Despite her injury, Mira nodded sharply.
"One, two, THREE!"
They struck in unison, Mira's club smashing into one goblin's knee while Kiriti's dagger found the vulnerable spot beneath its jaw. The creature collapsed, twitching.
One goblin remained, its yellow eyes darting between them and the tunnel entrance, clearly calculating whether to fight or flee. Mira was already moving toward it, her face set in grim determination.
This is it, Kiriti thought, recognizing the opportunity. Time to test my theory.
He deliberately slowed his advance, allowing Mira to reach the goblin first. She swung her club with all her remaining strength, catching the creature directly in the temple. There was a sickening crack, and the goblin dropped to the ground, instantly dead.
The chamber fell silent except for their heavy breathing. Kiriti watched Mira closely, noting the triumphant gleam in her eyes as she stood over her kill. Rovel and Elyse stared expectantly, waiting.
"I felt it," Mira said suddenly, a hint of wonder in her voice. "A small shift. My Strength increased by a quarter point."
"The standard monster kill reward," Rovel confirmed, nodding. "That makes sense."
But Mira's expression quickly shifted from momentary satisfaction to bitter disappointment.
"But that's it," she muttered. "Just the basic reward. I did everything right. The dramatic fight, the killing blow... No MC Moment."
Before anyone could respond, a blue rectangle materialized in front of Kiriti's eyes:
MC Moment Triggered: Strategic Sacrifice for Narrative Cohesion Triggered Action: [Deliberate forfeit of a kill to test companion's system interaction] + [Preservation of group dynamic through psychological manipulation] +7 Stat Points Awarded (Strategic Distribution) VIT +2 | INT +2 | AGI +1 | LCK +2 Updated Statistics: STR: 2.25 AGI: 4 VIT: 4 INT: 8.25 LCK: 5.25 TOTAL: 23.75
Kiriti's eyes widened involuntarily. Seven points? For deliberately not killing a goblin? The system had not only recognized his intentional restraint but had explicitly rewarded his manipulation of the group dynamic.
"What?" Mira demanded, noticing his expression. "What just happened?"
"I... got another MC Moment," Kiriti admitted, feigning reluctance.
"But you didn't even kill it!" Rovel exclaimed, wincing as he straightened up. "Mira did!"
"That appears to be precisely why," Kiriti said carefully. "The system called it 'Strategic Sacrifice for Narrative Cohesion.' It seems I was rewarded for deliberately letting Mira take the kill."
Mira's face went through a complex series of emotions—disbelief, confusion, anger, and finally a bitter resignation.
"So even when I get the kill, you get the reward," she said flatly. "That's... that's just..."
"Remarkable," Rovel finished, his analytical mind clearly overriding his envy. "The system isn't just rewarding combat prowess or heroic actions. It's rewarding narrative awareness and manipulation."
Elyse took a step back, her eyes wide. "You knew," she whispered. "You knew you'd get rewarded for letting Mira kill it."
"I suspected," Kiriti corrected, adopting a thoughtful expression. "I've been trying to understand the pattern of these rewards. This was... an experiment."
"An experiment using us as lab rats," Mira said, her voice dangerously low.
"Using all of us to improve our collective chances of survival," Kiriti countered smoothly. "I just received a substantial stat increase that makes me better able to protect everyone."
"How substantial?" Rovel asked, unable to contain his curiosity despite the tension.
"Seven points," Kiriti said, watching their reactions carefully.
Elyse gasped audibly. Rovel's eyes widened to an almost comical degree. Even Mira's anger seemed momentarily supplanted by shock.
"Seven?" Rovel repeated. "From one moment?"
"Distributed across Vitality, Intelligence, Agility, and Luck," Kiriti confirmed. "I'm now at nearly 24 total points."
The implication hung in the air. He was rapidly approaching E-Rank territory while they remained firmly at G-Rank. The power gap was becoming insurmountable.
Elyse suddenly dropped to one knee before Kiriti, her pendant clutched to her chest.
"The Goddess has chosen you," she breathed, eyes shining with renewed religious fervor. "Only divine selection could explain such blessing."
"Get up," Mira snapped at her. "He's not a god. He's just gaming a system none of us understand."
But Kiriti noted the new hesitancy in Mira's posture, the way she unconsciously shifted her weight away from him. Fear was beginning to override anger—fear of his growing power, fear of her own expendability.
Rovel simply stared, his analytical mind visibly recalibrating. "I've been thinking about this all wrong," he murmured, almost to himself. "It's not about mimicking protagonist behavior. It's about playing a role within the protagonist's story."
Perfect, Kiriti thought. They're falling into exactly the mindset I need—acknowledging their supporting roles while remaining invested in the outcome.
"We should search the chamber," he suggested, deliberately changing the subject. "These sentries might have been guarding something valuable."
The others moved to comply, the new dynamic already establishing itself. Elyse now watched him with reverent awe. Rovel studied him with scientific fascination rather than envy. Only Mira maintained her distance, her resentment still palpable but now tempered with pragmatic resignation.
As they searched, Rovel moved toward the far wall where a strange pattern of moss grew in an almost geometrically perfect circle.
"This looks unusual," he commented, reaching out to touch it.
"Rovel, wait—" Kiriti began, but it was too late.
The boy's fingers pressed against the moss, which compressed with an audible click. The entire wall began to rumble, stone grinding against stone as a previously hidden doorway slid open, revealing a descending staircase.
Cold air rushed up from the opening, carrying with it a scent that made Kiriti's newly enhanced senses recoil—a mixture of decay, sulfur, and something else... something almost metallic.
"What did you do?" Mira hissed at Rovel.
"I... I just touched it," he stammered, backing away from the opening.
"A hidden passage," Elyse whispered. "The Goddess guides our path."
Kiriti approached cautiously, peering down the staircase. Unlike the rough-hewn tunnels they'd been traversing, these steps were precisely cut from smooth stone, descending in a perfect spiral. Phosphorescent fungi grew here too, but in deliberate patterns along the walls, illuminating the way down.
"This isn't natural," he murmured. "This was designed."
"By what?" Mira asked, momentarily forgetting her resentment in the face of this new discovery.
"I don't know," Kiriti admitted. "But it might lead to an exit."
"Or to something worse," Rovel countered.
The rumbling sound they'd heard earlier suddenly returned, much louder now, emanating from deep below. The stairs themselves seemed to vibrate with the force of it.
"We should go back," Elyse suggested, clutching her pendant.
"The passage we came through is too narrow to defend if something follows us," Kiriti pointed out. "And we don't know what's in the left tunnel. At least this way, we can see what's coming."
His logic was sound, but his true motivation was curiosity. The system had just rewarded him handsomely for manipulating the group dynamic. What might it offer for leading them into even greater danger?
"I'll go first," he declared, already moving toward the stairs. "Stay close behind me, but be ready to retreat if necessary."
They descended in tense silence, the spiral staircase seeming to go on forever. Kiriti counted one hundred and eight steps before they finally reached a landing that opened into a vast chamber.
Unlike the rough caves above, this space was clearly artificial—a perfect circle at least fifty meters in diameter, its ceiling lost in darkness overhead. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes of battle, worship, and what appeared to be ritual sacrifice. Massive pillars carved to resemble twisted humanoid figures supported the unseen ceiling.
And in the center of the chamber, seated on a throne of fused bones and weapons, was the largest goblin Kiriti had ever seen.
Standing nearly three meters tall, its muscular green body was covered in elaborate armor made from scavenged metal and leather. A crown of what appeared to be human skulls adorned its massive head. In one hand, it held a crude scepter; in the other, a massive war hammer that looked capable of crushing stone.
As they entered, its glowing yellow eyes fixed on them, and a slow, intelligent smile spread across its fanged face. Numbers appeared above it:
Goblin King (E-Rank): STR: 45 AGI: 38 VIT: 53 INT: 32 LCK: 34 TOTAL: 202
"Welcome," it rumbled in a deep, guttural voice that somehow formed recognizable words. "Few morsels deliver themselves so willingly to my table."
Beside him, Kiriti heard Elyse whimper. Rovel had gone absolutely still. Mira's breath came in short, panicked gasps.
Even with his enhanced stats, Kiriti felt real fear grip him for the first time since entering the dungeon. An E-Rank monster against an F-Rank and three G-Ranks? The statistical mismatch was insurmountable.
"Oh no," he whispered, mind racing desperately for a solution.
He'd pushed too far ahead of the narrative curve. No amount of clever positioning or tactical advantage could overcome a 202 vs. 23.75 stat differential. This wasn't a heroic challenge; it was a statistical impossibility.
As the Goblin King rose from its throne, massive war hammer scraping ominously against the stone floor, Kiriti realized he had seconds to devise an MC Moment powerful enough to save them—or accept that their story had reached its abrupt conclusion.
The monster's rumbling laugh echoed throughout the chamber.
"I so rarely get to speak with my food before eating it," the Goblin King said, taking a ponderous step forward. "Tell me, little ones—which of you shall I devour first?"