The viral success of Dungeon-Dive Dave's six-star review had turned my quiet sanctuary into a ticking time bomb of impending popularity.
FaeLina was not handling it well.
"One thousand percent, Mochi!" she fretted, her invisible form leaving a faint trail of anxious energy as she zipped around my core. "That's not a visitor increase, that's an invasion! An invasion of paying customers who will all expect a six-star experience! Our infrastructure can't handle it!"
She began to spiral, painting a vivid picture of our doom. "The line for the Tea Nook will stretch out the entrance! People will start leaving terrible reviews on the ScryNet! 'Came to the famous Nap Dungeon, but the line was an hour long and a Pillow Fiend tried to absorb my pet cat. 0/10.' We'll be ruined, Mochi! Ruined by our own success!"
Gilda, who had been quietly listening to the fairy's one-sided, frantic conversation with me, finally spoke up, her practical mind trying to grasp the situation.
"Core," she said, addressing me directly. "I understand the fame, but how can that influencer simply decide to stay here for a week and have the Ministry pay for it? Does he truly have that much authority?"
It was the perfect question.
'He's not just a streamer, he's an officially recognized critic for the Dungeon Influencer Guild!' FaeLina's psychic voice explained frantically in my mind. 'The DLRB uses his reviews as official field reports! His stay here is now considered a 'long-term assessment' of our new Sanctuary status, so the Ministry has to pay for it! Which means we have to be the perfect hosts, or his final, detailed report could ruin us before we even get started!'
I took her panicked, information-filled rant and distilled it into a calmer, more official-sounding explanation for Gilda.
'The Dungeon Influencer Guild works in partnership with the DLRB,' I projected. 'Mr. Dave's extended stay is now classified as a professional assessment of this dungeon's unique Sanctuary status. His expenses are covered by the Ministry as part of his official duties.'
Gilda's eyes widened slightly as she understood the political implications. "So his final, detailed review will be treated as an official government report?"
'That is my understanding,' I confirmed.
"You really have a serious problem," Gilda said with a grim look, unknowingly agreeing with the invisible fairy. "If hundreds of people show up tomorrow and have a bad experience, it won't just be a few bad reviews. It could be an official downgrade from the Ministry."
She wasn't wrong. My cozy little corner was about to be tested by the one thing more dangerous than an assassin: overwhelming success.
'We need to expand,' I projected, both to FaeLina and to Gilda. 'Immediately.'
FaeLina's panic instantly shifted to focused, managerial energy. "Yes! We need more floors! More napping alcoves! And a velvet rope for a VIP section! We can have a tiered pricing system! A 'Gold Tier Nap' gets you an extra pillow!"
'No velvet ropes,' I said firmly. My goal was to reduce stress, not create social anxiety over who gets the best pillow. 'The Hibernation Hollows are for deep rest. We need a place for people to wait. A place that is, in itself, a relaxing experience.'
A new idea began to form, inspired by the waiting rooms of my old life, but made infinitely better by magic.
'We are going to build a lobby.'
I accessed the Dungeon Menu, my mind already sketching out the blueprints. I had plenty of DP from the recent events. It was time to invest.
First, I needed to create the space. [Excavate new Chamber: Grand Antechamber? Connects to main entrance. Cost: 150 DP.]
Confirm.
The dungeon rumbled gently as the earth in front of the main chamber, just beyond the Tea Nook, began to recede. A new, large, and airy cavern was formed, with a high, vaulted ceiling.
"Okay, a lobby," FaeLina said, tapping her chin. "So, what goes in it? Benches? Some potted plants?"
'Better,' I projected, and began to furnish my new antechamber.
[[Purchase Item: 'Bottomless Tea Urn'? A large, magical urn that never runs out and dispenses free, delicious, non-magical tea to waiting guests. Cost: 50 DP.]
[Purchase Item: 'Whispering Chimes'? Hanging chimes that create soft, ever-changing music based on the dungeon's overall mood. Cost: 30 DP.]
[Summon Monster: 'Listening Post' x 3? Small, stone golems shaped like sleeping capybaras that project a faint aura of empathy, making guests feel heard and patient. Cost: 45 DP.]
With a series of soft shimmers and poofs, the new lobby came to life. The large tea urn appeared in a corner, already steaming gently. The chimes hung from the ceiling, their music soft and pleasant. And three adorable, stone capybaras curled up in various corners, looking perfectly content.
FaeLina stared at the stone capybaras. "Their only function... is to be good listeners?"
'Correct,' I confirmed. 'The ultimate waiting room experience.'