This chapter captures the transition from desperate flight to a calculated power-play. Bjorn is no longer just surviving; he is "gaming" the system, using Erwen's unique skills to bypass the dangers that would kill a solo Level 1.
I've polished the dialogue to reflect Bjorn's dry, profit-oriented inner monologue and the dark humor of his "accidental" circular journey.
Revised Version: Chapter 2, Part 6The "9-to-1" Investment
The radio crackled again. The Union wasn't giving up.
[They may have already separated. If you see a barbarian wielding a one-handed hammer and shield, do not engage. Wait for backup.]
I looked at my gear. A shield-wielding barbarian was a rarity on the first floor. I was officially a marked man.
"Mister..." Erwen's eyes were wide with anxiety. I gave her a content smile.
"Don't worry. I'm not leaving you," I said.
I'd always liked helping people—provided it came with a massive profit margin. "Our deal stands. 9-to-1 split on the loot. Got it?"
"Of course! I'll find a way to return the favor, I promise!"
I didn't expect much in the way of "favors," but I wasn't going to turn down a potential bonus. I tightened my laces. It was time to move.
"What's the plan?" Erwen asked, summoning her fist-sized fire spirit.
"We're going to the outskirts," I said as we plunged into the dark. "And then, we're going to the Second Floor."
The Orc's Lair
Erwen nearly tripped. "The second floor? Just the two of us?"
"Just us."
On the first floor, my profits were capped. The mobs were small, and the competition was fierce. On the second floor, the density of monsters tripled, and the quality of mana stones spiked.
"Sir, the second floor is... it's a different world," she stammered. "Ten monsters at a time. Variable species. It's suicide."
"Synergy," I said simply. "Melee tank and ranged DPS. You have fire and arrows; I have a shield and a hammer. If we stay in the initial zones, we'll be fine."
She looked skeptical, but the message stone chimed again, providing the final push:
[Whoever catches that fox-fairy gets 10,000 stones. Plus... you get the chance to 'enjoy' her first before we hand her over to Harts.]
I felt a surge of genuine loathing for these people. But if I could give them the middle finger while tripling my income and playing the hero? That was the epitome of efficiency.
"Your choice," I said. "Stay here and be 'enjoyed,' or come upstairs."
"I'll go with you," she whispered, her face pale.
"Good. North, then."
The Legolas of Goblins
We navigated by instinct and the faint glow of Erwen's spirit. Suddenly, the darkness stirred.
"A goblin trap!" Erwen hissed. She stepped forward, an arrow already nocked.
Thwip—Stab!
The goblin lunged from the shadows, only to take an arrow through the eye at point-blank range. She moved with a fluidity that made her look like a low-budget Legolas.
"How was that?" she asked, looking for approval.
"Good," I said. "But from now on, I take point. Conserve your arrows."
"Oh, I can just pick them up," she said, plucking the arrow from the corpse. "I don't need to waste them."
Right. This isn't a game where arrows are disposable stackables. Realism had its perks.
"Here!" she held out her hand. "Your nine, my one. I have to work hard if I want to buy my little brother a present."
I looked at the single mana stone in her hand. For a second, I felt like a Dickensian villain, but I took it anyway. Business was business.
The Border and the Ghoul
The third day was winding down. We had reached a transition zone where the monsters changed.
"Mister! There! A ghoul!"
I squinted. All I saw was darkness. Then, Erwen moved her flame forward.
Rotting skin, empty sockets, and four-legged humanoid limbs. It was the Rank 9 undead from the loading screen. But wait—ghouls only spawned in the Southern region.
Had we been walking in circles? I felt a dull ache in my head. We'd headed north, hit a dead end, and apparently looped back around like idiots.
"I'll lead," I said, shaking off the frustration. "You take the one in the rear."
Three ghouls sat like gargoyles in the path. They were faster and stronger than goblins, but they lacked the cunning for traps. As I closed the distance, they lunged.
CRUNCH!
My hammer caved in the first one's skull. An arrow hissed past my ear, pinning the second one through the forehead. I finished the third with a heavy swing.
[Ghouls defeated. EXP +1]
"Better than goblins," I muttered. No traps, no hiding—just straightforward violence. We harvested the stones and kept moving.
The Abandoned Sandal
We followed a trail. First, it was just bloodstains. Then, pieces of dried bread.
Erwen followed me in silence for hours. "Are you... angry with me?" she asked eventually.
I didn't answer. I recognized this trail. The blood. The bread.
Two hours later, I saw it lying on the ground: a single, abandoned sandal.
"Damn it," I cursed under my breath. "Are you kidding me?"
"I'm sorry! Whatever I did, I'm sorry!" Erwen squeaked.
She thought I was mad at her. I wasn't. I was mad at the Labyrinth. I had spent hours trekking "North" through the dark, only to find the exact spot where I had lost my shoe after the fight with Hans.
I looked up. Directly in front of us, shimmering in the gloom, was a portal.
We had spent all night running in a giant circle, and it had led us exactly where we needed to be.