Unlike the group stage, Team Nemean had a week before their next match rolled over.
The word week should have felt luxurious. After the compressed brutality of the group stage, after the Yeak, Zhen Wu Pavilion, Yuan Zheng Zi, the Gia Định Saviors' grudge match, and the constant political pressure wrapped around every broadcast segment, seven days sounded like an entire season of mercy. In theory, it meant rest, review, and quiet improvement. In theory, Alex could test the edges of bīng without cameras watching, Joanne could refine her new firing rhythm even more, Dominic and Alexei could refine shield overlap, and Emma could build a controlled fame strategy before the next bracket surprise arrived with sponsor logos attached.
In practice, Phong Tran had learned that the dungeon treated free time as an invitation.
The morning after Team Nemean's clean seven-point win, Phong sat in one of the Tannenbaum clubhouse's private call rooms with two tablets, a cup of tea gone lukewarm, and Rico perched on his head like a caffeinated crown of poor judgment. The raccoon had insisted that his elevated position helped "strategic perception," which Phong allowed only because removing him would require both hands and more emotional energy than he wanted to spend before breakfast. On the left tablet was Emma's preliminary media analysis from the Gia Định match; on the right was the secured connection routed through Yuè's communication chain, patched from surface calls to trusted intermediaries near Camp Stymphalian and Baratok Town.
Phong called the Lamberts first, then the Delacroix household, because the elf children had split time between familiar caretakers, training spaces, and Yuè's allied territories while Team Nemean dealt with the league. He asked about food, sleep, lessons, behavior, nightmares, injuries, and whether anyone had taught them new curse words. That last question made Rico lean forward on his head and whisper, "Coward. Language is culture." Phong reached up without looking and pushed the raccoon's face away from the microphone.
Lôi answered for the children during the second call.
Lôi, the eldest sister of the elf siblings, had become solemn enough to make Phong feel both proud and guilty. She appeared on the screen with her hair tied back, a practice tunic slightly too big for her shoulders, and the expression of a child who had decided that being responsible was on the menu for a while.
"Daddy," she said, "there is a civil war between the Greencap Bunnies on Floor One."
Phong closed his eyes.
Rico, still on his head, whispered, "That is a strong opening."
Phong opened his eyes again. "Tell me slowly."
Lôi did.
The Greencap Hare captain of Pioneer Squad Twelve, newly evolved after eating the Lime-Oak sapling clone and breaking through the dungeon-born ceiling placed on him since birth, had gathered wounded loyalty faster than anyone expected. His army was friendly to Yuè, partly because he owed Phong his life and his evolution, partly because his knights had been sheltered without oath. He was calling scattered pioneer squads to his banner, not as king, according to Lôi, but as a loyal commander preparing to rescue the actual king from Floor Three if the king still lived.
Opposing him was Pioneer Squad Seven.
Phong's fingers stilled.
He had never heard of Squad Seven before this call. He knew nothing about its captain, its loyalties, or its arrangements. That ignorance made the next report more troubling, not less.
Squad Seven had declared that Squad Twelve's evolution was a contamination of Greencap legitimacy through outside influence, which was a very polished way of saying they hated that another captain had gained strength through outside means. Their force was organized, supplied better than an isolated pioneer squad should have been, and openly hostile to Yuè-aligned routes.
Phong frowned.
Squad Twelve had Yuè's backing. It had access to food, medicine, safe roads, scouts, and the logistical support Phong had spent months building. Squad Seven should not have been able to rival it in supplies unless it had found another source of comparable strength.
But Phong had no idea what that source was.
He did not know Squad Seven had a deal with Kitahara. He did not know Josh or the Saitama gate was involved. All he knew was that a previously unknown squad had somehow acquired enough material support to stand against a force backed by Yuè.
It was suspicious.
It was also a problem he could not yet name.
"Do we know where their supplies come from?" Phong asked.
Lôi shook her head. "The Great Burrow scouts only said that they receive goods from outside the kingdom. They do not know who sends them."
"Any markings? Caravans? Routes?"
"Nothing certain. The goods arrive through different paths. Sometimes they are carried by humans. Sometimes by rabbits who do not belong to Squad Seven."
Phong's concern deepened.
He had expected enemies to oppose Yuè. He had expected Greencap traditionalists to resent Squad Twelve's evolution and the influence of an outsider. But a faction with enough supply to rival Yuè-backed forces, while concealing the source of that supply, was something else entirely. It meant someone had been preparing for this conflict before Phong knew it existed.
The third faction made the matter worse.
"A convoy came," Lôi said carefully. "They said they carry the king's entrusted future."
"A royal convoy?"
"Yes. Their leader says the Greencap King gave him command of the kingdom's future before the king was taken or sealed or lost. The wording changes when different rabbits repeat it."
Rico tapped Phong's forehead with one claw. "Translation: suspicious bunny with paperwork."
Phong resisted the urge to sigh into the microphone. "Does he have support?"
"Some. Mostly older families and squads afraid of both captains. He says Squad Twelve is too close to Yuè and Squad Seven is too close to humans from another gate, so he is the balanced choice."
Phong stared at the screen.
The Greencap Kingdom had fractured into a pro-Yuè military reform faction led by a level 67 Greencap Hare, an anti-Yuè faction led by a squad whose unexplained supply network concerned him more with every sentence, and a legitimacy faction claiming royal mandate.
So much for a week.
"Do not let any faction pressure your brothers and sisters," Phong said. "If Greencap messengers arrive, send them to the lizardmen queen or the Great Burrow king. You do not accept oaths, gifts, apologies, tokens, or letters."
Lôi nodded seriously.
Then she added, "There is Painted Skin news too."
Phong's hand tightened around the cup.
Great Burrow scouts had seen goblins wearing Painted Skins. Malformed, twisted and insane, with living hides wrapped around their bodies like living clothing, rather than a parasite that choked it host to dead like they had seen before. In some cases, according to the mice, the goblin and skin seemed to disagree for a moment before moving as one. The scouts believed the relationship was becoming symbiotic rather than purely parasitic, which meant Painted Skin had found a host population unstable enough to blend with instead of merely occupy.
Emma, standing behind Phong now because she had entered midway through the call and immediately understood this was worse than breakfast, wrote a note on her tablet.
Phong's face stayed calm for Lôi.
"Tell the mice they did well. Nobody engages those goblins. Observation only unless they threaten one of our routes."
Lôi nodded, then glanced to the side as if one of her siblings had reminded her of something.
"The mice also saw Josh."
Phong became very still.
Rico stopped fidgeting on his head.
"Where?"
"A ruin near Croak Wood. He had divers with him. The mice said the rich bastard cried at night when nobody noticed."
Rico whispered, "Great Burrow intelligence reports are getting spicy."
Phong touched the mute button long enough to say, "Do not teach the children to call people rich bastards."
Rico looked offended. "I didn't."
Phong unmuted.
Lôi continued, repeating the report in the careful cadence of someone who knew the words mattered even if she did not understand all of them. Josh Harlan had been seen with members of his diver team in a ruin adjacent to Croak Wood. The mice had observed from cracks and broken ceiling stones. At night, when Josh thought his people were asleep, he cried. He whispered to his dead father that his mother had changed, that he had seen her talking to a third eye on her palm, and that he suspected his mother was a monster from the dungeon.
For a moment, Phong felt the old bitter amusement rise.
Josh Harlan, rich bastard, bully, killer, thief of Greencap banners, arrogant enough to turn suffering into branding, crying alone in a ruin because the mother who survived Daniel Harlan's death might not be fully human anymore. There was a tiny, unkind part of Phong that enjoyed the pathetic image.
Then the rest of him caught up.
A third eye on her palm. A mother changed after Daniel Harlan's death. A possible dungeon entity wearing influence through family, grief, or replacement. The mere existence of the True Irises was proof that what Josh had said was closer than the truth for anyone comfort.
The amusement died quickly.
"That is important," Phong said. "Very important. Tell the mice to continue observing Josh from a safe distance."
Lôi's small face grew more serious. "Is it like the H'Re chieftain's eye?"
"I do not know, and that is why I am worried."
He gave more instructions before ending the call. Trolls were to move more dirt to Fort Erymanthian, as much clean soil as the Giant Crickets and gondola systems could handle without weakening Camp Stymphalian's own farms. The terraced fields on the troll mountain had to be accelerated, because if Greencap civil war, Windrider threats, Painted Skin goblins, and Josh's new mystery all became simultaneous problems, Yuè would need food grown in layered, defensible locations rather than depending on one fertile camp or one trade route. Water management through the canal had to be checked twice, storage burrows reinforced, and seed reserves separated so one disaster could not ruin an entire crop category.
He also ordered the Great Burrow to investigate Squad Seven's supply routes without provoking them.
He wanted to know who was moving goods into Greencap territory, how often, and why Squad Seven could match Squad Twelve's access to food and equipment. Until he knew that, every explanation remained possible, including the ones he least wanted to consider.
Lôi listened to all of it, then waited until he stopped speaking.
"Mushroomkhan sent Mushroomtrons," she said.
Phong's shoulders sagged.
"Of course it did."
Mushroomkhan's message was simple, at least by the standards of a level 150 hivemind boss structure. It had formed a newly stable symbiotic relationship with the Black Ants, and it requested that Yuè not attack ants under Mushroomkhan protection. Lôi recited the message with the solemnity of a formal envoy while Rico leaned upside down from Phong's head to stare at the screen as if this angle improved diplomacy.
Phong considered the implications. Black Ants under Mushroomkhan protection could become terrifying logistics, terrifying agriculture, terrifying underground warfare, or all of those at once. Attacking them preemptively would anger something Phong absolutely did not want angry. Letting them move freely around allies carried risk, but Yuè already survived by turning impossible neighbors into negotiated headaches.
"Tell Mushroomkhan I agree," Phong said. "Yuè will not attack Black Ants under its protection unless the ants attack my allies or vassals first. If they want routes, boundaries, or food waste arrangements, they can send Mushroomtrons to negotiate terms."
Lôi nodded.
Then she looked slightly guilty.
Phong knew that look.
"What happened?"
"I have been leading the brothers and sisters into the treant territory to play sometimes," she said. "I thought daddy should know."
Phong leaned back in the chair.
He remembered Rico doing exactly that before the diver league, leading the elf children into the woods to play as part of babysitting. The treants were allies. The forest near Camp Harpy was safer than most dungeon territory, especially now that the pixie nest had formal feeding rules and fire chicken supervision. Still, children wandering treant territory while Greencap factions fractured and Painted Skin goblins emerged was enough to wake several different fatherly instincts Phong did not remember agreeing to acquire.
"You can go," Phong said.
Lôi brightened.
"With rules."
She dimmed.
"You return to camp before bed time. Every time. You tell an adult where you are going and when you plan to return. You bring food, Bright Sunflower seeds, Alerting Carrots, and at least fifty Timatoes with you."
Lôi blinked. "Fifty total?"
"Each."
Rico nearly fell off Phong's head laughing. "You are acting like an overprotective dad."
Phong reached up, grabbed him by the scruff, and held him in front of the screen. "Do not learn from your raccoon uncle."
Rico squirmed in the air. "I provided enrichment."
"You provided chaos."
"Same family."
Lôi giggled, which made the whole call feel less like a war briefing for a kingdom stitched across dungeon floors and more like a father talking to children who wanted permission to play under dangerous trees with fifty aggressive tomato guardians each. Phong let himself smile for her, because she deserved that more than she deserved his fear.
After the call ended, the room remained quiet for a moment.
Emma finished typing.
"That was a lot."
Phong set Rico down on the table. "That was my week off saying hello."
Alex, who had entered during the last part of the call and leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed, looked at him with open concern. "Josh's mother."
"Yes."
"The palm eye matters."
"Yes."
"We need Selena."
"We need Selena after she stops burying herself under enough lore to build a second dungeon."
Emma looked up. "She will want the report immediately."
"I know."
While Phong dealt with Yuè's ripples, the rest of Team Nemean had gathered in another private room under Emma's direction. By the time Phong entered, the meeting had already shifted from match review to something larger. Dominic stood near the window with Janet beside him. Joanne sat backward in a chair, her Celestial Skeletal headpiece hidden beneath her hair but visible in the way her eyes followed two conversations at once. Jack and Jake occupied opposite sides of the room, one still, one fidgeting. Séline and Camille spoke quietly near a wall display. Alexei had a tablet open with public approval metrics, which looked strange in his hands until Phong realized Emma had given everyone homework.
Emma came in and stood at the center.
The display behind her showed clips from the Gia Định match, but the analytics were not about damage, skill reveal, or bracket odds. They were about audience reaction. Dominic's speech defending Phong. Alex's post-fight line about too much mouth and limited capability. Joanne's follow-up. Rico Cam engagement. The spike in positive sentiment around Team Nemean's unity. The regional breakdown of arguments over Phong's background. Sponsor inquiries, new follower growth, international reposts, and even more of those statistics only eternally online KOLs would obsess over.
Phong stopped near the door.
"What is this?"
Dominic answered before Emma could.
"We want to help."
Phong's first instinct was to say they already were.
Dominic seemed to expect that and continued. "Not only in fights. Not only with Yuè when we are in the dungeon. We talked about what you said before to Rico, about the farms being mediation between dungeon natives and humanity, and about fighting for all of humanity when threats like the Night Kings or the Grey One come."
Phong shot a glare at the racoon general direction.
Janet nodded. "You are better at working with the dungeon side. You see people there before most humans even admit they are people."
Joanne leaned her chin on the back of her chair. "And you hate surface politics with the burning passion of a man asked to fill out tax paperwork during a monster siege."
"That is accurate," Phong said.
Emma gestured toward the display. "Which means the human side of your equation cannot be left to chance. If Yuè is going to become a bridge instead of a private army, humanity needs visible examples of powerful divers choosing cooperation before governments and corporations define cooperation as ownership."
Alex came to stand beside Phong.
Her hand found his. The gesture was public within the team now, casual and steady.
"We can cover that side," she said.
Phong looked at her, then at the others.
They were serious.
Team Nemean had seen enough now, maybe even more so than him: Alexis Valantris failing despite unimaginable power, Zhen Wu Pavilion turning to crystal, Night Kings waking when humanity advanced, Josh treating dungeon lives as stepping stones, and whatever was going on with Kitahara. They understood that fame was not vanity anymore. It was leverage. It was shelter. It was a way to make peaceful options visible before violent ones became profitable.
Emma's gaze held his.
"If we want to influence humanity toward a less catastrophic path, Team Nemean needs to become too well-known to dismiss and too trusted to quietly discredit. That means we must accelerate. I'm talking media discipline, selective transparency, controlled sponsorship, public humanitarian action, and alliances framed in language the surface can understand. Out of everyone here, I am the one who knows how to maximize that fame without letting it devour us."
Phong looked at the screen again.
Rico Cam remained one of the top engagement spikes.
He pointed at it.
"Your plan includes the raccoon?"
Emma's expression tightened with professional pain. "Unfortunately, the raccoon is one of our strongest public assets."
Rico, who had followed Phong in and climbed onto a side table, lifted both paws in triumph. "The people recognize excellence."
Joanne groaned. "We are doomed by metrics."
Phong laughed softly despite everything.
Then the laughter faded into something warmer and more difficult.
He had spent so long trying to keep his farms from becoming one country's weapon that he had forgotten bridges needed people standing on both ends. Yuè could feed dungeon races, shelter refugees, negotiate with Mushroomkhan, arm Greencap captains, and build terraces on troll mountains, but humanity would still hear monster alliance and imagine invasion unless someone they trusted translated the shape of it. Team Nemean could be that translation.
Not perfectly. Not safely. But perhaps enough.
Phong squeezed Alex's hand.
"All right," he said. "Show me the plan."
Emma smiled.
It was sharp, ambitious, and very much her.
"With pleasure."