"Ah yes… sacrifices for the forest amusement. How generous of them."
— A Corrupted Chieftain
I returned to the camp in search of at least one additional party member.
Before I could go far, a researcher hurried toward me, nearly tripping over a bundle of wires as she adjusted her glasses.
"What happened?" she asked quickly.
When I explained the dungeon's requirement for additional members before entry, her eyes widened—not with concern, but with unmistakable excitement.
"Oh. Oh, that is fascinating."
Before I could respond, she grabbed my sleeve and hurried me toward what I hoped was Susana's tent.
As we approached, raised voices spilt from within. The researcher paid them no mind and shoved the tent flap aside.
"Susana!"
I entered a moment later. Susana was massaging her temples while the woman spoke at a terrifying speed beside her. Papers lay scattered across the table, and several nearby scientists looked moments away from collapse.
Susana noticed me and gave a questioning look. I offered a polite smile and gestured toward the frantic researcher.
Understanding dawned across her face.
"Calm down," Susana ordered.
The woman did not. If anything, her eyes grew brighter.
Fed up, Susana delivered a light strike to the woman's forehead with two fingers.
A collective sigh rose from the nearby scientists.
"Again?" "She never learns." "That is the third time today."
The woman finally quieted, rubbing her forehead with visible offence before launching into a far calmer, yet still rapid, explanation.
Apparently, several previously documented dungeons shared similar "party system" mechanics. If this one functioned the same way, the rewards — or "drops", as they called them — would likely be substantial.
Confused by the terminology, I asked one of the nearby scientists for clarification. At first, he stared at me as though I should already know this. Then, realising my genuine ignorance, he adjusted his coat and explained with the air of a proud lecturer.
"Most dungeons possess the ability to reward challengers," he said. "Drops vary depending on the dungeon. Some are materials, others artefacts, consumables, enchanted equipment—"
"Simple terms, if you please."
He coughed awkwardly.
"When monsters die, they sometimes leave useful items behind."
Ah. Much clearer.
He continued eagerly. For example, there was currently an item on the global market known as 'goblin waist beads'. When worn by women, they increased fertility rates, reduced the chance of miscarriage, and made childbirth significantly less painful. These beads could be obtained from only five dungeons worldwide, most notably the Russian dungeon known as "The Great Below".
I thanked him sincerely for the explanation. He looked absurdly pleased with himself.
Once the energetic researcher finished outlining every possible theory she possessed regarding the dungeon, she finally inhaled deeply, as though she had forgotten the necessity of breathing. Another scientist immediately handed her a water bottle.
Susana stared at her for several long seconds before turning to me.
"Come on," she sighed. "Let us find you some party members."
We headed toward the gathering of explorers. There were more now than before, and these looked markedly different — older; harder; bearing scars that had healed poorly. Their armour was battered and mismatched, yet layered with residue-rich plates and old enchantments that pulsed faintly beneath scratched surfaces.
Several turned to stare at me as we approached. Not casually. Carefully. As though evaluating both prey and potential competition.
Susana explained the situation.
Silence followed. Then came the complaints.
"Now that we know the mechanics, we should prepare properly." "We didn't bring enough rations." "What if the entire structure changed?" "This is reckless."
It seemed no one wished to volunteer.
At least… not initially.
Then I noticed a hand shooting upward enthusiastically from the back. Both hands, in fact — waving violently.
"Pick me! Pick me!"
Ah. So she was not merely gesturing. She was genuinely saying it aloud.
Beside her sat a man whose expression suggested his soul had already left his body.
Susana noticed them as well.
"Yes, you may stop waving now," she said tiredly. "Thank you. So – you agree to join this man's group?"
"Yes!" the woman answered brightly. "Bo agrees too!"
She grabbed the man's arm with enthusiasm. The look he gave her carried the silent scream of a man betrayed by fate itself.
Susana looked too exhausted to argue. As she turned away, she whispered to me that many high-level explorers were eccentrics, lunatics, or functioning disasters — sometimes all three at once.
The woman finally managed to drag her companion toward us. She wore light armour decorated with excessive charms and trinkets that jingled with every movement. Her smile was impossibly wide.
"Hi! My name is Belinda, but you can call me Bel! Seriously, call me Bel. This is my closest companion and best friend, Bo!"
Why did the man look emotionally wounded at the words "best friend"?
"Um… I'm Bodie," he said weakly. "But most people call me Bo. Nice to meet you."
"Oh come on, Bo!" Bel groaned dramatically. "Be more energetic! We're about to explore an unknown dungeon and fight horrifying monsters! This is exciting!"
Bo stared at the ground.
"You're a wonderful fighter, Bo! Be brave! Be radiant! Shine like the glorious star you are! Future generations shall speak of the mighty Bo—"
"Bel", I interrupted gently but firmly, "I believe we understand the sentiment."
She stopped instantly, then nodded with frightening intensity. Bo looked at me with the gratitude of a dying man receiving water.
Interesting woman.
Dangerous levels of energy.
If enthusiasm itself were an Arcana, she would likely be its living embodiment.
Then—
I heard it again.
Soft laughter. Feminine. Close.
"Qulien…"
I froze. The voice had whispered directly beside my ear.
I turned immediately. Nothing. Only trees and the distant noise of the camp.
Slowly, I looked away.
A trick of memory. Yes. That had to be it.
Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling beneath my skin, I led Bel and Bo toward the dungeon gate where Miranda waited.
When we arrived, Miranda was punching the stone door with considerable force. Each strike shook the surrounding bark. Had the structure not been reinforced with divinity, I suspected the entire doorway would have shattered.
I called out to her. She turned instantly, smiling pleasantly as though we had not just witnessed attempted structural murder. That was when I noticed her gloves were gone. Dark markings stretched across her hands and wrists — tattoos, or perhaps old scars.
Bel practically launched herself forward and began a verbal assault of introductions. As she continued, I exchanged a glance with Bo. His expression clearly read: Do you see what I endure?
I silently agreed.
Taking advantage of the distraction, I removed my glove and pressed my hand against the wooden tablet. Pain bit into my palm — not deeply, just enough. The moment blood touched the wood, information flooded my mind.
Party Registered. Roles Assigned. Support.
So, I had been chosen as support.
Each role apparently carried different limitations and enhancements once inside. How troublesome.
I cleared my throat loudly. Miranda understood immediately and cut off Bel's ongoing speech about legendary heroes and romantic knights. She walked directly to Bo, grabbed his wrist, and slammed his hand against the tablet.
"Do you want your girl getting injured?" she asked bluntly. "Be a man."
Bel's face turned bright red. Bo looked moments away from death.
Then, with the exhausted resignation of a man accepting divine punishment, he allowed the process to continue.
The wooden tablet glowed.
Something shifted within the door.
A deep metallic sound echoed through the forest.
Click.Clack.
The massive stone doors slowly creaked open. Cold air poured outward — not natural cold, but something stale. Like air trapped somewhere ancient.
The moment the doors parted fully, the forest around us grew deathly quiet. Even the insects had stopped.
The darkness beyond did not resemble an ordinary cave or corridor. It looked deeper than it should have been. As though the doorway had not opened into a location but into absence itself.
Miranda stepped forward first.
"See you on the other side," she said lightly before walking through.
Bel followed immediately, vibrating with excitement. Bo hesitated, his hand trembling slightly. He felt it too — that instinctive warning buried deep within the human mind.
The understanding that something beyond the door was wrong.
Very wrong.
Bo eventually forced himself forward.
Then only I remained.
The forest behind me felt watchful. The darkness ahead felt hungry. And somewhere — far deeper than sound itself — I thought I heard breathing.
I adjusted my gloves, twirled my cane once, and smiled faintly.
It seemed the exploration had finally begun.