The next morning, before the sun had fully risen—
Charles lay curled on his bed, arms locked tightly around himself, his body bent like a shrimp.
"Haa… haa…"
He gasped for breath in ragged gulps. Even with [Drunken Rampage]'s immunity to intoxication, the craving for divine wine gnawed at him relentlessly.
"Damn withdrawal symptoms!"
Sweat soaked his body, his muscles trembled, and he felt completely drained.
"No wonder years later Liliruca would flinch at the mere mention of divine wine… This stuff is hell on earth."
His eyes were vacant as he stared at the ceiling.
"Looks like… unless I absolutely have to, I can't change my skill yet. At least not until the side effects from the wine weaken."
He was still mapping out today's plan in his head when—
BANG BANG BANG—
A violent pounding on the door jolted him upright.
With a crash, the door was kicked open, a stocky dwarf barging in without so much as a greeting.
"Hey! How long are you planning to sleep, Charles? Making me wait this long—do you have a death wish?!"
Who the hell are you? It's not even daylight yet… Charles blinked, still adjusting to his reality.
A human swordsman followed the dwarf inside, sneering as he spoke:
"Hey, Gannu. That door belongs to the Familia. Break it and Zanis will have your head."
Outside, a male and female—both looking like rangers—voiced their own complaints.
"Who told the kid to sleep in? Dock the repair cost from his pay for today!"
"Pay? Hah! What pay?"
"Hahaha!"
Amid their laughter, Gannu slammed a boot into the side of Charles' bed.
"Useless brat! Stop dawdling and grab your pack. You're just a worthless pack mule—if you make us lose money, can you afford to pay it back?"
That snapped Charles into focus.
The four in front of him were the same adventurers who'd exploited him after his parents died. And Gannu—yes, the very same dwarf who, in the original timeline, carried killer ants to sabotage Lili.
Charles' eyes lit up. Well now… what a coincidence.
Just yesterday he'd been wishing for some "teammates." And here they were, delivered to his door.
Sure, they weren't exactly friendly… but that could be fixed in time.
He rose unhurriedly, brushed the wrinkles from his clothes, and shouldered his oversized pack.
"You're unusually gentle today, Master Gannu."
He shot a glance at the dwarf leaning in the doorway, arms crossed.
Normally, Gannu would've grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the pack for laughs. Today, though, he'd actually given him time to straighten up.
Gannu snorted through his nose.
"Tch."
Behind him, the human swordsman—Swen—spoke casually:
"I hear you awakened a new skill? Thinking about graduating from supporter work and joining our party?"
Charles narrowed his eyes. So that's what this is.
No way these bottom-feeders had suddenly grown a conscience. They were here to probe his strength—afraid he might slip out of their control. If his skill was useful but he was still "manageable," they could bleed him dry.
Charles could smell malice a mile away.
These four were nothing special—bottom-rung Soma Familia, their stats maybe in the H to E range. Not that strong…
With [Drunken Rampage]'s bonus damage, he figured he had a good shot at winning a one-on-one. The rangers, though, would be a hassle.
Fine. Let's play along.
"Zanis sent you, didn't he?"
His bluntness made the four tense.
Gannu's expression darkened.
"Since you already know… yeah. He told us to 'take care' of you. You got a reward, now it's time to earn for the Familia."
Swen added,
"It's already 5:30 and you're still in bed. Sloth like that is disgraceful."
Ah, bless you, Brother Zanis—delivering four half-price funeral packages straight to my door.
Keeping a solemn face, Charles said,
"I see. If this is Captain Zanis' will, then from today onward… you are my dearest brothers and sisters!"
"…Huh?"
Gannu grabbed him by the collar, yanking him up.
"What the hell are you babbling about, brat? Who's your fucking sibling?!"
"Don't call me brat. From now on, call me little bro.'"
Charles pried Gannu's thick fingers off and smoothed his collar.
"Or… are you planning to defy Captain Zanis' will? You know the price for betraying him—and the Familia?"
Who the hell's betraying the Familia?!
"Looks like I'll have to clean house myself!"
He cracked his knuckles.
The four exchanged looks. Who gave this scrawny kid the courage to challenge a dwarf to an arm fight?
Sure, Soma Familia was a cesspit, but fights were usually handled quietly in the Dungeon. Who openly called for "cleaning house"?
Had the divine wine rotted his brain?
Swen held Gannu back, forcing a smile.
"Let's get moving. Our quota today is 10,000 valis. Charles, if you're as good as you say, show us in the Dungeon."
The swordsman clapped a "friendly" hand on Charles' shoulder.
As they passed through the hall, Charles stopped, grabbed an iron-banded cask from the wall, and stuffed it into his pack.
"Don't add dead weight!" ranger Link snapped.
This was low-grade discard brew—failed batches concentrated for disposal. Technically free for the taking, but bringing it into the Dungeon was just extra weight.
He hated the way this "pack mule" was suddenly on equal footing—and worse, had Zanis' attention.
Charles shrugged.
"Had divine wine yesterday. This'll take the edge off."
The four nodded in understanding. They knew the itch of going without. They'd done the same before, though never desperate enough to use this bottom-of-the-barrel swill.
Link clicked his tongue and looked away.
They headed for the gate. As they passed, Charles noticed the rookies from yesterday now following veterans toward the Dungeon to earn their keep.
Seeing where Charles was looking, Swen smiled falsely.
"You should thank us. If you were with them, you wouldn't survive more than a few runs."
Gannu sneered.
"That guy Hughes is probably taking them to the 6th floor today, eh?"
The 6th floor—rookie graveyard. Monsters there fought differently, and in greater numbers.
Not that you're much better off yourselves.
Charles rolled his eyes and said nothing.
"Hey, boss, this kid just ignored you," the female ranger—Emma—said with mockery.
"Bluffing," Link muttered.
"We'll test him soon," Swen said, rubbing his chin. "Zanis didn't look happy yesterday. Told us to 'take care' of him, but I'm not sure which kind of care he meant. If his skill's anything like the Sword Princess'… even ten of us wouldn't win."
The Sword Princess—Ais Wallenstein.
A lunatic who'd reached the 7th floor right after becoming an adventurer.
Whenever a rising star like that appeared, people like Gannu's group were reminded of their own mediocrity.