Adventurers' Guild, Second Floor.
After Jack left, Leon stood by the window, gazing thoughtfully at the man's retreating figure.
"What's wrong, boss?" Terl asked. "What are you thinking about?"
Leon withdrew his gaze and gave a faint smile.
"Terl, this time you've been tricked again."
"Huh?" Terl scratched his head, baffled. "What do you mean?"
"It's simple." Leon's tone was calm, almost bored. "That Jack fellow is a con artist—and not even a good one."
"Black Fist" Bedan grunted in agreement.
"I knew that old man was shady from the start," Maru chimed in with a grin. "He was trembling like crazy. Anyone who saw him would think he was about to keel over." She tilted her head toward Terl and smirked. "Only a big idiot like you would fall for that."
"You—!" Terl shot her a glare, fists clenched, but Maru skipped lightly over to Leon's side, wearing a mischievous smile.
"Alright, Maru, enough teasing," Leon said, cutting her off. His calm voice restored order instantly as he turned back to Terl. "Didn't you notice anything… off?"
"Well, I did think something was strange," Terl admitted, slumping angrily onto the sofa. "But his knowledge of the dungeon didn't seem fake. He answered all your questions—and even spotted the deliberate mistake you slipped in."
Leon chuckled softly, running a hand through his sunlit golden hair. "True, his knowledge seems real. But the more convincing he looks, the more certain I am of one thing."
"What's that?" everyone asked at once.
"He likely has someone guiding him from the shadows," Leon said confidently. His hair seemed to shine brighter as if his hair summoned the sunlight.
"My eyes! I'm going blind!" Maru cried out dramatically, shielding her face with both hands. "Didn't we agree on hats indoors? Someone put a hat on him before I die!"
"Wearing a hat when meeting a guest would look unprofessional," Leon replied helplessly.
"Black Fist" Bedan nodded again, agreeing without a word.
"Anyway…" Leon's voice hardened, his eyes glinting. "I'm very interested in whoever's backing him. If we can invite that person to join our raid team, our progress will skyrocket." His lips curved into an ambitious smile. "At the very least, we won't fall behind the other raid teams tackling mutated dungeons."
"Maru!"
"I'm here, I'm here." Maru waved one hand lazily while still covering her eyes with the other to block Leon's glow.
"Follow Jack. If he really has someone giving him orders, be polite."
"Fine, fine. I can't stay in this blinding room another second," she muttered as she headed for the door, eager to escape the dazzling light. The trace of night-cat blood in her veins made her loathe strong light.
But then—something unexpected happened.
"Ahhh—murder! Somebody's been killed!"
A piercing scream rang out from downstairs in the guild.
.
..
...
Bedford City – Resurrection House of the Holy Light Church
Dozens of priests specialized in resurrection magic worked here around the clock. When an adventurer's corpse was teleported in, the revival process began immediately.
If the death was recent, it took less than ten minutes to bring someone back. But if the body had been dead longer, things got complicated. If more than a day had passed, resurrection magic became useless.
Not every resurrection house belonged to the Holy Light Church. Many competing churches ran their own—Forest Church, Nightlight Church, even the Necromancer Church.
Why? Because resurrection was big business. Every adventurer had to pay a revival fee—high enough to sting, but just low enough they'd pay it.
Inside a quiet study room, a young priest asked his elder:
"Teacher, as long as someone's been dead less than a day, resurrection always works, right? Doesn't the god of death get angry about that?"
"Why would he be angry?" the elder asked kindly.
"Because…" the young priest hesitated. "Doesn't resurrection magic… desecrate death?"
The elder chuckled and patted the boy's head.
"Hah! The god of death isn't that petty. Besides, not every death can be undone with simple resurrection magic."
"Only dungeon deaths are reversible this easily. Dungeons keep the soul locked inside the body. Since the soul never leaves, restoring the body and awakening the soul is enough to revive them."
"In the outside world, though? When someone dies—except in rare cases—the soul gets dragged into the Underworld instantly. The body becomes an empty shell. Bringing them back requires complex, costly rituals to pull the soul from the Underworld."
"That is what truly desecrates death. Those who cast such spells earn the god of death's mark."
The young priest swallowed nervously.
"Marked? What happens then?"
The elder lowered his voice dramatically.
"They get their name written down in the god of death's notebook."
"...?"
The boy blinked, then nodded gravely, eyes wide.
"Ohhh… The notebook. That's terrifying."
The elder's lips twitched, but he didn't elaborate.
Silence hung between them—until the boy blurted another question:
"So… that old man they just brought in—he can't be saved, right?"
"He can… and he can't."
"??"
The elder sighed.
"He can't afford the price."
(***)
In the morgue, Jack's body lay down.
This was the least-used area in the resurrection house. Most corpses came from dungeons and were revived almost immediately. Cases like Jack were rare.
"Heart stabbed by a blade. Instant death. My condolences," the priest said solemnly to Leon.
"I'm not his family," Leon replied coolly.
"Oh. That's fine then." The priest instantly dropped his serious tone, stretching lazily.
"Know how to reach his family? If not, he'll get a ground burial. He was an adventurer, right?"
"Yes," Maru muttered, still stunned by the priest's lightning-fast mood swing.
A ground burial—the lonely resting place of adventurers who died without kin or hadn't purchased a grave plot. After death, they were returned to the dungeon.
For people who'd lived their lives in dungeons, it almost felt… fitting.
"Brutal murder, though," the priest added casually. "That anti-dungeon group's getting out of control—killing people in broad daylight now. Poor guy had rotten luck."
The killer belonged to the Anti-Dungeon Organization.
A secret group that despised dungeons, they preached that evil gods lurked within and demanded the destruction of all dungeons and every scrap of loot from them.
For years, people laughed them off as lunatics. But recently, they'd turned militant—escalating from protests to outright murders.
Rumor had it they'd even discovered a way to permanently destroy dungeons.
Maybe Jack caught their eye by selling dungeon goods yesterday. Or maybe because he led raid parties. Either way, he became their target.
"Boss," Maru spoke up quietly. "Want me to stick around for a couple of days? If someone comes to claim the body, that might be the person backing him."
Leon was silent for a moment—then nodded.