The entrance to the abandoned underground parking lot was a rolling shutter door, rusted down to its skeletal frame. A large gap at the bottom provided just enough space for a person to slide through.
Allen crouched before the door, flicking on his phone's flashlight to sweep the interior. Three levels of underground structure, a spiral downward ramp, and pillars with numbered plates faded into ghostly silhouettes. The air was a stagnant mix of mildew from standing water and old rodent droppings—not pleasant, but manageable.
He slipped inside.
The management panel expanded on the left side of his vision. He scrolled through the"Structure" page of the Dungeon Management interface and found the option he had noted yesterday but hadn't yet activated.
[Auxiliary Passage (备用通道)]
[Description: Create a second entry point within a 200-meter radius of the main entrance. The auxiliary passage shares the same dungeon instance as the main entrance. Creation Cost: 800 BP.]
[Create? Y/N]
800 BP. He currently had 5,650. He could afford it.
Allen walked down the spiral ramp to the second basement level. He chose a corner—near a load-bearing wall, shielded by two concrete pillars about ten meters away from the main ramp. From the ramp, the spot was invisible.
He pressed Y and dragged the passage exit on the management panel to the ground beneath his feet.
The ground vibrated. It was lighter than the warehouse tremor—more like the low-frequency hum of a heavy-duty washing machine on its spin cycle felt through the floor. Fissures on the concrete floor expanded along geometric lines, and a faint blue glow seeped through the cracks.
Ten seconds later, a diamond-shaped opening took shape. It was a size smaller than the one in the warehouse—about 1.5 meters wide, just enough for a person to jump in.
[Auxiliary Passage created.-800 BP. Current BP: 4,850.]
Allen crouched by the opening to inspect it. Stone steps extended downward, connecting to the side corridor of the dungeon's first room—a branch passage he had pre-planned during the expansion, invisible to those entering from the main gate.
Two entrances. One in the warehouse under the watchful eyes of Titan Shield. One in the second basement of the neighboring parking lot.
Wayne Tucker could stand at the warehouse entrance until the end of time. Independent adventurers would enter from here and exit here. The two routes had no intersection on the surface.
Allen added a note to his phone's memo:"Second Entrance: Parking Lot B2, Northwest corner, next to pillar P2-17."
He put away his phone and checked the time on the management panel. 10:00 AM.
Titan Shield said they would"come back tomorrow" when they left. Given Wayne's style, they would likely report to the warehouse before noon. They would take the front door—that blue-and-gold badge was still stuck to the warehouse iron as a declaration of ownership.
Allen had a two-hour window.
He jumped into the auxiliary passage.
Testing Mode. Round two.
Last time, he had spent eight hours clearing it twice, dying fourteen times, and reaching—Allen pulled up his own System panel to confirm.
[Allen Gray]
[Class: Dungeon Architect]
[Level: F-Rank]
[Strength: F / Agility: F+/ Constitution: F / Intelligence: E / Perception: E+/ Luck:???]
[Skills: Shadow Step (Rank F)]
[BP: 4,850]
F-Rank. Eight hours and he was still F-Rank.
The experience bar showed progress at approximately 72%. Another round and a half should be enough to hit Rank E.
Allen chose Testing Mode and entered the isolated instance.
It was smoother this time. The skeleton guards in the first five rooms were no longer a real threat—his body had memorized the telegraphing of every attack pattern. A lowered right shoulder meant a horizontal slash; raising both hands over the head was a vertical cleave; a half-step back with the left foot signaled a thrust. Three movements, three dodging routes—mechanical, but effective.
The ghost wolves remained troublesome. The pack-hunting AI made solo encounters unpredictable—the flanking routes of the pack changed slightly every time he entered rooms six through nine. Allen took a sneak attack in the seventh room, his left ribs torn open. Virtual damage, not carried to reality. But the sensation of ribs snapping made his diaphragm twitch for two seconds.
During his third attempt in the seventh room, he found a pattern—the timing of the ghost wolves' flanking was linked to the flickering frequency of the room's lights. Every time the light dimmed, one wolf would reposition.
His own dungeon. His own exploit.
Ironic. But useful.
Gargoyle room. The two gargoyles in the eighth room were pure physical attackers—thick-skinned, high health, and a large attack radius. Allen's F-rank short sword hit them like scratching a rock with a fingernail—each strike only shaved off a thin layer of debris.
In his first attempt against the gargoyles in room eight, it took him a full nine minutes to grind down one. The second one smashed his scapula just as his stamina ran out.
Death. Respawn.
Second time. He changed tactics—instead of hacking at the gargoyle's torso, he targeted the joints. Behind the knees, inside the elbows, the cervical spine connection. The gargoyle's armor was uneven; the joints were weaknesses.
Seven minutes. Both destroyed.
Progress.
On the third pass through the eighth room, something dropped from the gargoyle's shards.
[Skill Drop!—— Stone Skin (Rank F)]
[Effect: Upon activation, the entire skin surface becomes lithified, increasing physical defense by 300% for 8 seconds. Cooldown: 45 seconds.]
[Learn? Y/N]
Allen pressed Y. A sensation of dry tightening swept across his skin—from fingertips to forearms, forearms to shoulders—lasting for a second before vanishing.
He tried activating it. The skin of his right forearm turned grayish-white in half a second, its texture shifting from flesh to a blend of volcanic rock. He scratched it with his left fingernail—no sensation at all.
The effect faded eight seconds later, skin returning to normal. Not even a white mark remained where the nail had scratched.
Two skills now. One for teleportation, one for defense. Both F-rank.
Allen continued. Shadow Knight Boss room.
It wasn't a struggle like yesterday—the use of Shadow Step had become muscle memory. The moment the knight disappeared for the third time, Allen Shadow-Stepped to the opposite corner of the room, waited for the knight to whiff at his original position, and in the 0.5-second window where its back was exposed, he lunged, thrusting his short sword into the spinal junction.
Cleared.
[Testing Mode Cleared. Total Kills: 52. Total BP Earned:+400. Experience Earned:+1,400.]
The experience bar peaked.
[Level Up! Rank F→ Rank E]
[All Attributes Increased. Strength: E-/ Agility: E / Constitution: E-/ Intelligence: E+/ Perception: D-/ Luck:???]
Rank E.
Allen stood in the ruins of the boss room, looking down at his hands. He clenched his fists twice. The power difference from Rank F was tangible—it wasn't a vague"feeling stronger," but a literal increase in muscle fiber density. The curve of his forearm muscles when he closed his fist was a notch more pronounced than five minutes ago.
From the awakening ceremony until now, less than seventy-two hours. From"???" to Rank E.
Not enough. Far from enough. But the direction was right.
Allen exited Testing Mode and climbed back to the parking lot floor. He checked the time—1:00 PM. He had spent another three hours in Testing Mode.
4,850 minus 800 for the auxiliary passage, plus the 400 from testing... wait, the passage had already been deducted. Current BP should be—
He confirmed on the panel.
[Current BP: 5,250]
Enough for the next item.
Allen scrolled down the Blueprint Store, skipping the monsters and traps, and entered the"Items" page. There were far fewer item blueprints than monsters, but each had a unique function. He found his target on the third page.
[Phantom Mirror (幻影分身镜)· Item Blueprint]
[Price: 1,500 BP]
[Function: Deploy in any dungeon room. When a challenger passes by, it automatically scans and records their System panel information (Rank, Class, Skill List, Attribute Overview). Data synchronizes to the management panel in real-time.]
[Restriction: Maximum 3 mirrors per dungeon. Automatically turns invisible upon detection (challengers cannot perceive this item).]
Allen bought one.
[Phantom Mirror Blueprint unlocked.-1,500 BP. Current BP: 3,750.]
He re-entered the dungeon—not in Testing Mode, but through the Architect's channel of the formal instance. He deployed the Phantom Mirror on the wall of the entrance corridor in the first room.
The mirror surface was only the size of a palm; once embedded into the stone, its surface blended perfectly with the surrounding rock texture. Unless one looked closely from half a meter away, it was impossible to find.
Every person who stepped into this dungeon, from the first second they entered the corridor, their rank, class, skills, and attributes—all would automatically be transmitted to Allen's management panel.
A customer database.
Allen exited the dungeon and crouched for a while by the rolling shutter door of the parking lot. Sunlight shone through the gap at the bottom, casting a bright strip on the concrete floor.
DeepRift forum notifications had piled up by the dozens. The post's popularity was still rising. But he had no time to look now—the external surveillance on the management panel showed six marked points of light approaching the warehouse.
Titan Shield. On time.
Allen watched from two blocks away as the six lights entered the warehouse and jumped into the main diamond opening. The Phantom Mirror activated immediately—six sets of System panel data flashed onto his management panel.
Wayne Tucker. D-Rank Warrior. Three skills: Fissure Slash, Iron Wall, War Cry. Strength D+, Agility D-, Constitution D.
Jason Collins. B-Rank Warrior. Five skills. Strength B, Agility C+, Constitution B-.
The data for the remaining four D-ranks and E-ranks were also recorded.
Allen created a new folder on the management panel, naming it"Customer Files." He dragged the six sets of data into it.
From now on, everyone who stepped into this dungeon would leave their hand of cards in this folder.
They thought they were grinding the dungeon.
In reality, the dungeon was grinding their information.
Allen closed the panel and leaned against the doorframe, closing his eyes for a moment. He hadn't slept in three days. His brain was still functioning, but his eyes were dry and strained.
—What he didn't know was that on the main street of the warehouse district, two miles away, a black car with government plates had just pulled over.
Robert Chen adjusted his cuff as he stepped out of the car.
A habitual movement. The left cuff button was always half a turn tighter than the right—he had noted this detail three years ago and never changed it. Obsessive-compulsive disorder was not a flaw in investigative work.
Warehouse district. Red Hook. One of the cheapest neighborhoods in Brooklyn.
He stood on the sidewalk, not rushing. He first surveyed the surroundings. Three abandoned industrial buildings, a rolling shutter entrance to an underground parking lot, a dead-end alley leading toward the docks. There were fresh tire tracks on the road—more than one vehicle, and high frequency.
For an"abandoned warehouse district," the traffic was unusual.
He followed the tire tracks. Two minutes later, he stood before the main gate of the warehouse.
The iron door was half-ajar. A Titan Shield blue-and-gold badge was stuck to the door panel.
Robert looked at the badge for three seconds. Then he bypassed it, walked to the side of the warehouse, and found an unlocked side window. The glass was shattered, and the rust on the frame suggested no one had touched it for at least six months.
He looked inside from the window.
The warehouse interior was empty, with footprints on the cement floor—many footprints, some new, some old. In the center of the floor was a diamond-shaped opening emitting a faint blue light.
The dungeon entrance.
Robert did not enter. He pulled a small black instrument from his inner jacket pocket—not standard GWA issue, but a portable energy analyzer he had modified himself. He mounted the instrument on the window frame, aiming it at the diamond opening.
Then, he activated his class skill.
[Eye of Truth (真相之眼)—— Rank A Scouting Skill]
His right pupil shifted from deep brown to amber gold the moment of activation. Fine runes rotated within the iris—moving so fast the naked eye couldn't tell, but a high-speed camera would show each rune aligning in a specific order.
The world changed in his right eye.
Beneath the physical surface, the energy structure manifested. The warehouse walls, floor, ceiling—all matter took on a translucent gray base color, covered with dense patterns of"information residue." The footprints were faint white, the newer ones brighter. The energy fluctuations around the Titan Shield badge on the door were blue-gold and weak.
But that diamond opening in the center—
Robert's right eye fixed on it for a full fifteen seconds.
The energy patterns around the opening were unlike any natural dungeon he had ever seen. The entrance of a natural dungeon was driven by"Rift Energy"—the visual characteristic of which was chaotic, irregular, with fuzzy spectral fluctuations that changed randomly every frame. In the three years since the Great Cataclysm, he had scanned hundreds of dungeons; every single one had that characteristic.
This opening's energy patterns were regular.
Every energy line had a precise start and end point. The wave cycle was stable, the amplitude uniform. The edges were unnaturally sharp—completely devoid of fuzziness.
It wasn't Rift Energy.
It was Will Energy.
Robert had seen the entry for"Will Energy" in the GWA energy classification system. Theoretically existent, never recorded in actual observation. The definition: a product of an Awakener's personal will manifested as an external energy structure.
In plain terms—someone had"thought" this dungeon into existence with their own power.
He deactivated the Eye of Truth. The amber gold faded from his right eye, returning to deep brown. The data readings on the analyzer were still jumping—he packed the instrument and stepped back from the window.
He pulled out his phone. The GWA internal encrypted communication channel.
"Headquarters, this is Chen. On-site confirmation of the Brooklyn Red Hook anomalous dungeon."
"Received, Mr. Chen. Please report." The operator's voice was standardized, gender-neutral.
"Core energy signature type: Non-Rift Energy. Preliminary determination is Will Energy—artificial projection. The dungeon creation timestamp coincides with the 17th Awakening Ceremony forty-eight hours ago. Conclusion: This is a man-made dungeon."
The communication channel went silent for four seconds.
"Please repeat the last sentence."
"A man-made dungeon. A global first."
Another three seconds of silence. Then the operator's voice underwent an extremely subtle change—the speed picked up by half a beat.
"Please wait, Mr. Chen. I need to transfer this information to—"
"Transfer directly to the Security Committee."
"...Received. Please hold."
He held for forty seconds.
The person who picked up wasn't a regular duty officer of the Security Committee. It was the private line of Deputy Secretary Harold Pinkerton—Robert recognized the specific encrypted background hiss.
"Chen." Pinkerton's voice was dry. A man in his sixties, he had been at the GWA for twenty years and had experienced the chaos of the first day of the Great Cataclysm."You said 'man-made dungeon.' You sure?"
"The Eye of Truth does not misjudge energy types."
"Could it be the product of some high-level Spatial-type Awakener's skill? We have a few S-rank Spatial types—"
"Spatial-type skills create temporary sub-spaces; the structure is unstable and persists for no more than 72 hours. This dungeon's energy structure is self-sustaining—it has an independent Dungeon Heart. Just like a natural dungeon."
Silence. This time longer.
"Chen, listen." Pinkerton's voice dropped an octave."This information is now classified as Omega-level. Do not upload it to the public database, do not write it into regular reports, and do not discuss it with anyone—including your own analysts."
Robert did not immediately respond.
"I need you to investigate this secretly. Find the identity of the creator. Do not alert the target, do not alert the local guilds, and do not let the media catch wind of anything."
"Reason."
"Think for yourself." Pinkerton let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a low chuckle."If there is a person who can create a dungeon out of thin air—with monsters, resources, and loot—what is that person?"
Robert didn't need to think.
Global annual deaths from dungeon outbreaks: 70,000 to 120,000. Total annual value of transcendent resources obtained from dungeons: 4 trillion dollars. Dungeons were disasters, but also the largest economic engine of this new world.
A person who could create dungeons was a walking hybrid of a gold mine and a nuclear bomb.
A hundred times more important than an S-rank Awakener.
Every nation, every major guild, every interest group—the moment they learned this information, they would stop at nothing to seize control.
"I understand."
"Find this person quickly and quietly. Before anyone else does." The communication cut off.
Robert put the phone back in his pocket. He stood in the shadows on the side of the warehouse, facing the gray Brooklyn sky.
His right index finger tapped against his pants twice.
Then he pulled a business card from his coat, wrote a line on the back with a pen, and walked to the warehouse's main gate. He didn't open the door but slid the card through the bottom gap, wedging it between the iron door and the ground.
The Titan Shield blue-and-gold badge flashed coldly above him. He didn't even spare it a glance.
Robert Chen turned and walked back to his black sedan, started the engine, and drove away from Red Hook.
Allen returned to the warehouse at 4:00 PM to check the status of the main entrance. Titan Shield had left; the management panel showed their second clear had taken nineteen minutes and contributed 2,900 BP.
When he pushed the iron door open, his foot stepped on something.
A business card. White cardstock, with the black GWA logo and a small line of text:"Robert Chen, Senior Investigator, Global Awakener Administration."
There was a handwritten line on the back.
"I'm not here to shut you down. I'm here to understand. Call me.— R.C."
Allen crouched, picking up the card with two fingers. He looked at both sides under the faint blue light of the warehouse.
GWA Senior Investigator. A handwritten message. Slid under the door.
This person had been to the warehouse. Had seen the dungeon entrance. But had not gone in.
He had left a card.
Allen looked over the handwritten words again and again. The handwriting was unnaturally neat—the spacing between each letter was almost identical. It wasn't written casually; it was written by someone who had precise control over every single movement.
"I'm here to understand."
Allen put the card in his hoodie pocket and stood up, preparing to check the Phantom Mirror data—
The management panel exploded with a series of red pop-ups.
They weren't regular system notifications. Red background, white text, borders flashing. He had never seen an alert of this level.
[Warning—— External Scan Detected]
[Detected Rank A Awakened Ability performing deep scan of the dungeon entrance.]
[Scan Type: Energy Signature Analysis· Information Residue Reading· Core Structure Analysis]
[Scanner Rank Judgment: Rank A]
[Scanner Class Type Judgment: Scouting-type]
[Scan Time: Today 13:47 - 14:02 (Completed)]
[Scan Information Volume Assessment: High. Core energy signature has been recorded. Dungeon creation timestamp has been calculated."Artificial attributes" have been identified.]
[Suggestion: Immediately activate anti-reconnaissance protocols.]
Allen stared at the line"Artificial attributes have been identified."
The weight of the card in his pocket suddenly became very concrete.
R.C. Robert Chen. Rank A Investigator. Scouting-type class.
Four hours ago—while he was here—he hadn't just"looked" at the dungeon entrance. He had scanned it. With Rank A scouting abilities, he had spent a full fifteen minutes stripping the dungeon bare.
"I'm here to understand."
It wasn't a pleasantry. It was a hunter's declaration.
Allen's right hand touched the edge of the card in his pocket. The sharp corner of the cardstock pressed against his finger.
The warehouse was silent. The blue light from the diamond opening pulsed steadily, casting Allen's shadow onto the iron wall.
the red alert on the management panel was still flashing.
He did not dial the phone number.