Double Play
"Jun, still nothing?"
"Yeah. Still nothing."
Fortuna asked the same question for what must have been the hundredth time. She was clearly uneasy about what might be coming up behind them — and Jun felt no differently.
It had already been five days since they'd resumed their exploration. Yet the only things that came looking for Jun and his wives were ghost-type undead. Of the people they were actually waiting for, not so much as a single hair had shown itself.
Was the provocation too weak?
Five days earlier, Jun had used nothing but teleportation to travel from the roof of the Central Guild to the airspace above the West Guild, then scattered Rebecca's specially made residue-free bombs across it.
Fortunately — or unfortunately — the place was the home base of people with plenty to hide, so the defenses had been excellent. The West Guild hadn't collapsed in a heap of rubble. Still, its once-ostentatious exterior, flaunting wealth at every turn, had been reduced to a soot-blackened mess, and the adventurers inside and out had been left sitting on the ground looking thoroughly pathetic, unable to do a thing.
The dirtier a person's secrets, the more they lived and died by appearances. Having had their headquarters attacked without managing so much as a proper counterattack, the Merchant Coalition and the adventurers who made that district their home would be hunting the culprit with fire in their eyes, desperate to salvage their pride.
Jun would have loved to watch — but he'd steeled himself, returned to the Central Guild the same way he'd come, and, with the Guild Master's and Carol's help, slipped into the Labyrinth unnoticed.
For the record, Jun and his wives had staged a public entry into the Labyrinth a few hours earlier, in full view of everyone. A solid alibi.
From that point on, they'd explored while waiting for their enemies to come chasing after them. And yet, for reasons unknown, the enemy showed no sign of appearing — even though they could freely move between floors.
"My lord, might it not be that they have struck us from their list of suspects entirely? Men with dirty secrets are bound to have enemies besides ourselves."
"Dohwa's right. They might be looking at someone else as the culprit. No matter how I think about it, there's just too little evidence pointing to us."
"…Yeah, that is possible."
Swift movement and bomb use were Jun and Rebecca's specialties, but they weren't exclusive to them. Difficult, yes — but others could manage it well enough. And with a clear alibi already in place, the chance they'd been scratched off the suspect list wasn't zero.
"Nothing for it. Let's stop running circles and take the boss."
They couldn't clear a boss with enemies on their tail, so even after reaching the threshold of the boss chamber, they'd kept putting the fight off. But any more waiting felt like a waste of time, so Jun decided to press the attack.
"Jun, then should Fortuna and Dohwa join in too?"
"No. Fortuna and Dohwa, stay in mini mode."
There was always the chance the enemy was watching them from beyond radar range with some clairvoyant ability. To draw them in and take them down, it was best to keep Fortuna's and Dohwa's presence as hidden as possible.
"Tch∼. Fortuna's bored."
"Endure just a little longer, Sister. Here — your humble servant saved these honey rice cakes from last snack time."
"Whoa! Honey rice cakes!"
Fortuna, sprawled invisibly atop Jun's head, had been complaining of boredom. Beside her in the same position, Dohwa pulled two honey rice cakes from her sleeve and began sharing them amicably. Fortuna's mood improved considerably, which was nice, but…
Could you not eat on top of my head? It's getting sticky.
-Kiheehee!
-Die! Diiie!
The moment they turned toward the boss chamber, monsters latched onto them again. All of them were ghost-type Wraiths. Ever since entering the sixth floor, the proportion of Skeletons had steadily dropped while Wraiths increased, and from the tenth floor onward, only Wraiths appeared — just like now.
-Kyaaaaah!!!
Like something out of a horror film, the Wraiths closed the distance the instant they were noticed, circling and screeching their death-wails. The cries of Wraiths strengthened by the higher floor would normally drive ordinary adventurers into fatal mental breakdown —
"Shut up."
"Annoying."
— but neither Jun nor Rebecca fell anywhere near the ordinary category. Both of them possessed Psychic Cores. The Wraiths' death-wails were nothing more than unpleasant noise.
For reference: awakening a Psychic Core dramatically boosts mental resistance. Since the core sits at the exact center of the brain, any mental assault triggers the psychic energy to protect it immediately.
-Kheheheh…
-How long do you think you can last?
Unaware of any of this, the Wraiths kept screeching without pause. A few of the more experienced ones even mocked Jun and Rebecca. They knew the living mind was not infinite. Harass it long enough, and eventually you could claim the soul. Before that, the living might lash out with that unpleasant white energy, or with fire and lightning — but fortunately, the two before them didn't seem to be using any of that.
Savoring the prospect of fresh souls for the first time in a while, the Wraiths were licking their lips when —
Crack! Crackle!
— Jun poured electricity into Firmus and swung.
Since ancient times, lightning had been the symbol of exorcism, and Jun's bioelectricity carried the power of a certain exalted being. No low-grade ghost species could withstand it.
-Kyaaak!
-It hurts! It hurts!
Torn and scorched, the Wraiths thrashed and screamed. The emotion in those screams was no longer the rage and greed of before — it was pure terror and despair.
"Fortuna, if you would."
"Mmph-mmph. Okay!"
As Jun shot forward, Fortuna relocated to Rebecca's head. Rebecca pulled out a bomb and held it up. Fortuna swallowed her honey rice cake in one gulp and imbued the bomb with divine power.
"You — fall back!"
At Rebecca's command, Jun Blinked clear at once. The thrown bomb dropped into the middle of the Wraiths in his place.
BOOM!
An explosion laced with divine power erupted. Most of the Wraiths vanished without even a death cry. The few that barely survived were burned to ash by the pink birds Dohwa sent after them.
After the fight ended and they repeated similar battles about five more times, the entrance to the boss chamber finally welcomed Jun and his wives.
"Rebecca, the tenth-floor boss is a Banshee, right?"
"Correct. A ghost-type monster in female form. Primary abilities are a wail that induces mental collapse, and Wraith summoning. Both eyes are Navy."
A boss's strength was roughly ten times that of an adventurer at the same mastery rank as its eye color. Adventurers whose rank matched a boss's eyes had to approach the fight with extreme care. But —
"Should be easy."
"Hmph. Obviously."
— for Jun and Rebecca, a tenth-floor boss was something they could crush without breaking a sweat.
"Jun. Little one. Don't get careless just because of that."
"You may yet come to grief. Take heed."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Got it."
When Jun and Rebecca showed signs of letting their guard down, Fortuna and Dohwa fixed them with stern looks and issued their warnings. They were right, so both of them nodded obediently.
"Well, since it came up — let's get ready."
Jun opened the entrance to Dowonhyang. From within, one long, slender object and one short, stubby object came flying out.
"Jun, same setup as last boss?"
"Yeah. Not like there's any other time I'd use this."
As he spoke, Jun gazed fondly at the long, slender object — Pirbyon's custom musket. To increase the Railgun's destructive power, the barrel had been extended by more than half, and the whole thing was built from heat-resistant, durable steelwood and a special magnetic metal, giving it an overall black finish. It was a weapon that sniped the male heart with pinpoint precision.
"…Jun, your eyes look weird."
"You are practically drooling, my lord."
"A man's heart truly is beyond comprehension."
He'd gotten a little too excited. His wives' stares were scorching. Embarrassed, Jun cleared his throat once and loaded the short, stubby object — a solid special-metal bullet — into the musket. Then he shouldered it and poured Aura, electricity, and psychic energy into the weapon.
Crack! Crackle!
The musket drank in electricity without end. The charge condensed so intensely that even Jun — whose traits and modifications gave him strong resistance to heat and electricity — flinched at the heat and current radiating from it. Then the angel layered divine power on top. At that point, you could call the musket the Spear of the Thunder God and no one would argue.
"Rebecca, open the door."
"Understood."
Each floor of the Labyrinth was an independent space, and the boss chamber — the entrance leading to the next floor — was a passage connecting one space to another. Strictly speaking, what lay beyond the door was a different space entirely, so you couldn't attack inside from outside.
Kuuung∼
The door, carved with scenes of hell, opened with a heavy, dull sound. As always, the moment the gap reached shoulder-width, Jun shoved himself through.
"Kheheh. Here they are."
"Kheheh. You're late."
"Kheheh. For that, you'll —"
Click!
"Guek!"
BANG!
Thud.
"…"
"…"
"What, you guys were all hanging out in here?"
"Y-you bastard!"
"We were in the middle of talking!"
…And?
"Guhhk! Kuh—! S-spare me…"
Shunk!
A final thrashing for life ended meaninglessly on the tip of a sword driven through the belly. One might have expected guilt — but the sword's owner only smiled strangely.
"Betty, that one was supposed to be mine."
"So unfair, so unfair, so unfair."
"Was it? My apologies. I forgot."
Betty, daughter of a noble house, answered evasively as she drew her blade free. The already cold expressions of the elf archer Sally and the fire mage Rose grew even more chilling. It wouldn't have been strange if blades came out right then and there.
"…Crazy bitches."
Watching from a short distance, the hunter muttered coldly and let out a laugh. When he'd first met them, they'd spouted every high-minded word in the book about justice and duty — and in a matter of days they'd corrupted themselves down to the last scrap. He couldn't help finding it deliciously ironic.
"Honey, shouldn't you stop them?"
At the dancer's words, the hunter glanced sidelong at the key figures of this group.
"Kheheh. That body never gets old."
"Kheheh. Come look at this. They even rendered the panties."
"Kheheh. Ridiculously thin. Is the god of light actually the god of bitches in heat?"
The men were standing between the two feet of a statue of a goddess in one corner of the boss chamber, staring up between its legs. A sudden headache hit the hunter, and he pressed a hand over his eyes.
Am I going to end up like that someday?
The grotesque mark etched into the back of his hand, which had entered his field of view unbidden, made the thought unavoidable. Those lunatic women had gone half-mad the moment the mark was branded on them, so it was probably a sure thing.
The only reason I haven't gone mad yet is that I was already a little mad to begin with.
So he was just going mad a little earlier, that was all. He was trying to soothe his uneasy heart with that thought when the barbarian warrior approached, adjusting his belt.
"Ahh, refreshing. So damn refreshing. Boss, you know what? The doghouse's whorehouse is even better after you're dead."
Ignoring the mad nonsense the man started spouting the moment he arrived, the hunter traced the path he'd walked. At the end of it, a corpse lay sprawled in a ruin so thorough its original form was unrecognizable.
"…"
A conscience he hadn't even known still existed screamed at him to say something. But the hunter kept his mouth shut. A few days ago he might at least have muttered "disgusting" — now he couldn't even feel that much.
He wasn't the only one. The dancer opened her mouth anxiously.
"Honey… was this the right choice?"
"…Then what should we have done? Kept grinding mediocre floors with mediocre skill until we met a mediocre end?"
"Honey…"
"I refuse. I refuse that kind of half-assed life!"
The hunter's shout rang through the chamber. Every gaze turned toward him — and in that instant,
Kuuung∼
A heavy, dull sound, and the entrance began to open.
"Khihihi."
"Khihihi."
"Khihihi."
Black-robed figures with hoods pulled low took up positions before the entrance, laughing that bizarre laugh. Then they started to speak —
BANG!
The black-robe who'd been waiting for his turn until the very end had barely opened his mouth when a brilliant light, like divine punishment itself, punched straight through him.
Thud.
His headless body dropped to its knees of its own accord.
And in that moment, a thought crossed the hunter's mind:
Maybe living that half-assed life would have been better than this.