Apparently, I could extend to the whole building by spreading my mana towards the stairs and letting it crawl like roots, threading into every corner. The sensation was strange—like liquid warmth leaking from my chest and soaking into the walls, claiming them as mine. Before I realized it, this thirty-room apartment had fallen entirely under my control. Some rooms even had more than three people staying inside, and since everyone was locked up for the night, my DP income skyrocketed.
3,202 DP per day.
I almost jumped out of my chair when I saw the number flicker across the screen. That was absurd. Just for sitting here, I was earning more than I would working three part-time jobs.
But my elation quickly soured when I tried extending my mana beyond the apartment. The moment I reached the outside world, my mana just… dispersed. Like smoke vanishing into the night air. No matter how much I pushed, I couldn't expand into the open street or the nearby park. I even walked outside to test if there was some kind of range limit, but nope—my mana simply couldn't attach to open spaces.
"So, what now…?" I muttered, scratching my head.
The only theory I could come up with was simple: I could only extend my dungeon through tunnels. Basically, my dungeon could only spread if there was some kind of enclosed, defined path.
When I checked the menu for dungeon expansion, my hunch was confirmed.
[Expand Dungeon: Tunnel] – 100 DP per 1 meter.
"That's highway robbery," I groaned. "At that rate, just five meters would cost me ¥100,000! Or $665+!…"
Still, the idea sparked a plan. Could I make summoned creatures dig instead of wasting DP? My eyes darted to the [Recruit] menu, and without much hesitation, I summoned ten rats. They appeared in a little cloud of particles, squeaking and twitching their noses like normal vermin.
I ordered them to dig toward the building next door, imagining them like a little construction team. To my surprise, they actually obeyed, scurrying to the of wall and starting to going down. Watching them work gave me another thought.
The menu even had an option for spawners:
[Rat Spawner: 100 DP] – Produces 1 rat per hour.
That wasn't bad. If I made ten of these, I'd have a swarm of rodents tunneling for me in no time. It wasn't glamorous, but who cares? I didn't have to do the work.
Still, paranoia gnawed at me. I'd only seen Rikka from Chuunibyou so far—hardly dangerous. But what if this world wasn't as safe as it seemed? What if this was just the calm before the storm, and somewhere out there were creatures capable of crushing me?
I needed to be ready.
After pulling out my phone and browsing the news, I relaxed a little. No Gas leaks. No mysterious earthquakes. No unexplained mass disappearances. No sudden monster attacks. Just normal Japanese news: weather forecasts, idol gossip, and political squabbles. For now, at least, it seemed safe.
But safety didn't mean I could slack off. I scrolled further down the recruit list and spotted two better options for digging:
Mole – 2 DP Badger – 3 DP
I leaned back in my chair, smirking. "Nice."
Rats could scratch at dirt, sure, but moles were nature's tunneling machines, and badgers? Those little beasts were practically living excavators. With my current income of 133 DP per hour, I could already afford six mole spawners or four badger spawners.
"Obviously, I go with badgers. Stronger claws, better endurance. And if I get creative…" I pictured it in my head—one badger holding a chisel, another slamming a hammer against it, slowly chiseling through concrete like a mining crew. It sounded ridiculous, but also… genius.
I couldn't stop grinning. "I'll make the first-ever badger construction company. Dungeon-style."
My musings were interrupted when I checked the map. Something caught my eye: my rat count had dropped from ten to nine.
"What the—already? Did a cat get them?"
I hurried downstairs, following their little life signals on the map until I found the corpse. My face went slack.
"…You've gotta be kidding me. Fall damage?"
The tiny rat lay splattered at the bottom of a step. My first dungeon casualty. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Bro didn't clutch." I silently absorbed it's body with dungeon function and recovered 1/10th of DP spent which is basically nothing.
Shaking my head, I continued to their starting point. That's when I saw it.
A giant hole at the dirt near base of the wall. Obvious. Glaring. Impossible to miss. My heart almost stopped.
"Are you kidding me?! How did I not notice this?" I hissed, slapping my forehead. If the landlord saw this, I was screwed. It looked less like rats digging and more like a horror movie portal about to burst open.
Panicking, I grabbed the nearest thing I could find—a potted plant—and shoved it over the hole. "Perfect crime," I muttered.
Still, the rats were making surprising progress. Despite being just vermin, they were almost through to the neighboring building. Minutes ticked by and the rats were surprisingly efficient. They were almost done connecting… but no matter how much they dug, I didn't feel the system prompt to extend my dungeon.
So I couldn't actually take the building through rat holes, huh? Damn.
I tried checking for another option, like adding a basement floor, but that required 10,000 DP.
Damnit.