The Harsh Vote to Remain
"The pioneer group—myself, Seol Ara, Ishihara Yui, Jonathan Yombi, Irene Luker, and Dennis Cobitt. These six must head down to the lower floor."
At Mitchell's words, both those called out and those who weren't felt a lump in their throats. But no one raised a protest against the man who had shouldered such a heavy burden on his own.
"In addition, Kim Jung-min with the Taming skill and Josh McConnell with Fast and Slow will join us."
Out of the 36 spots available for the lower floor, eight had been selected.
"Now, excluding the goblins, we'll vote to decide the ten who remain here."
"……!"
"……!"
Confusion spread across everyone's faces. They'd expected a vote on who would go down, not who would stay?
Most wore expressions of Is this right?, but a few nodded in understanding.
"Exactly. If we voted on who goes down, people might just pick based on personal ties."
It was the bespectacled man, Pierre Rasbon, who spoke. A Eurasian from Singapore, he stood out with his strikingly pale, smooth skin and brown hair. Even in the dungeon's hellish conditions, Pierre always maintained a neat appearance, never letting himself fall too far into disarray. His poised demeanor matched his refined looks, and the sharp glint in his deep eyes exuded an air of intellect.
The woman beside him responded to Pierre's words.
"Even if we're voting on who stays, won't it still come down to personal ties? No one would vote for someone they want to save."
"It's different. When voting on who goes down, the choices are limited to 'people you're close to.' The results get scattered. But voting on who stays opens everyone else up as options, beyond just your friends."
"Ah…… I see. But on the flip side, couldn't people vote out of malice?"
"Sure, that could happen. Getting a vote or two from someone who dislikes you is fine—you won't stay behind over that. But if multiple people hate you and you rack up votes? That proves you're unnecessary to the survival group, no matter how skilled you are. Long-term, it means you're a liability, right?"
"Yeah, you could see it that way. As expected of you, Pierre. So sharp."
Pierre brushed off the woman's praise with an awkward smile. He had more to say but swallowed it down.
Mitchell isn't just deciding who survives with this vote—he's weeding out the dead weight for good.
There had been those with great skills who constantly soured the party's mood, others who survived selfishly at everyone else's expense, and even the kind but incompetent ones who were perpetual burdens. Most had swallowed their frustrations and endured. Mitchell was using this chance to purge them all. The votes for the ten to stay would naturally pile up on those types.
Of course, Pierre didn't think he'd be among those ten. His skill, Monster Encyclopedia, was a huge help to the group. It had evolved from his initial skill, Language Encyclopedia, after achieving a milestone on the fifth underground floor. Now, it revealed info on monsters' weaknesses and attack patterns. Sharing that made fights much easier.
So the ones likely to stay are……
Pierre quickly scanned a few faces. They seemed to have caught on too—their expressions darkened.
Meanwhile, Mitchell continued his explanation.
"Everyone here will vote, calling out one name each to me. No voting for yourself. For fairness, Dennis the priest and Ara will hear the names too."
Once Mitchell finished, the confirmed eight for the lower floor voted first. Mitchell noted the results on paper, including his own. Then the others voted, and the outcome emerged.
"……I'll now call out the ten who will remain here."
Mitchell's voice, holding the paper, was unbearably heavy. He paused for a long moment before uttering the first name.
"Devin Owens."
"Uwaaaah! You fucking bastards!"
The man whose name was called flew into a rage, screaming curses as he glared daggers at everyone.
"You goddamn shits! You're throwing me away like this? Fuck you all! You filthy dogs! You think I'll die alone……!"
Thwack!
A fist slammed into Devin's gut as he thrashed in fury.
"Guhk!"
Yui had subdued him in an instant. Devin rolled his eyes back and collapsed unconscious. Yui shot Mitchell a look that said keep going.
"……Tian Junlong."
"……Kuh……!"
The second man named pounded his chest and sobbed. He wanted to throw a fit, deny it couldn't be true—but after seeing Devin's fate, he held back.
Eight more names followed, each recipient breaking down in tears or fainting from grief.
Watching them, Mitchell bowed his head in apology.
"I'm sorry. This was the only way."
The others murmured their own apologies to those left behind.
"Quit the pathetic dragging and get going, you survivors!"
At Yui's sharp command, they forced their reluctant feet to move. A few felt more relief than regret, but none were foolish enough to show it.
Once everyone had descended, only Mitchell and Seol Ara remained.
"Time to go, Ara."
"……Yeah."
Seol Ara etched the faces of the ten left behind into her eyes one last time before turning away—as if vowing never to forget them.
But in a casual glance, her quest window looked off.
Objective: Only 36 can descend to the next floor. Time limit: 1 day.
Who stays? Who goes?
🎁 Reward: Food Box, Skill Enhancement Tickets: 0
"Huh?"
The skill enhancement tickets in the reward had vanished from 9 to 0.
A dark premonition flashed through Seol Ara's mind as she stared at it.
……No way?
Mitchell, beside her, nodded gravely.
"I noticed a bit late, but each time someone descended, one ticket disappeared."
He'd realized it too late to stop them—they'd all rushed down in a group, and the tickets were gone before he could act.
"So the first nine who went down got skill enhancement tickets?"
"No. The downgraded quest originally offered 10 tickets."
Seol Ara caught his meaning instantly.
"……Andra!"
"Yeah."
They bolted for the lower floor without another word.
Seeing treasure stirs greed in people. They had to prevent those tickets from being wasted.
* * *
"Th-this is unacceptable, sir!"
Ferrofero watched Han Ji-woo and Os Gillro's antics through the crystal orb, tearing at his fur in frustration.
"Escaping the Dungeon Prison? That's impossible! It can't be allowed, sir!"
Ferrofero could monitor the Dungeon Prison via the orb but couldn't manifest there himself. Yet Han Ji-woo had taken some bizarre route, grabbed a quest, and busted out.
He wanted to rush over and demand why this guy wouldn't just die already, but with Han Ji-woo vanished into Hidden Space, there was nothing he could do.
"You're leaving a massive stain on my career as manager, sir! Han Ji-woo! I really hate you, sir!"
As Ferrofero threw his hysterical tantrum, bellowing at the top of his lungs—
The dormant 'Dungeon Guard' stirs.
"Gasp!"
He sucked in a sharp breath at the message floating in the air.
The Dungeon Guard—she was the true overseer of the dungeon. An intangible energy body controlling the entire system. But so lazy, she needed a subordinate to handle the work. That was Ferrofero.
The dormant 'Dungeon Guard' yawns lazily, cracking one eye open.
Ferrofero prostrated himself before the message.
"D-Dungeon Guard, ma'am! Did you cough, ma'am?!"
The 'Dungeon Guard' says she's still sleepy.
The 'Dungeon Guard' murmurs that she knows about the anomaly in the Dungeon Prison.
The 'Dungeon Guard' scolds you on how you're handling management.
"Eek! S-sorry, ma'am! It won't happen again, ma'am!"
The 'Dungeon Guard' senses a problem with the Dungeon Prison's laws.
The 'Dungeon Guard' alters the Dungeon Prison's rules. From now on, those imprisoned will enter with body and soul alike. Additionally, they will die after 3 days in the Dungeon Prison.
"Kyaa! Brilliant solution, ma'am! So smart, ma'am!"
The 'Dungeon Guard' is pleased by Ferrofero's praise and orders you to manage the dungeon properly from now on.
"Of course, ma'am!"
The 'Dungeon Guard' finds the dungeon's changed appearance strange.
Caught off-guard by the message, Ferrofero scrambled to cover.
"It-it's temporary, ma'am! The dungeon won't get cleared this time either, so no worries, ma'am!"
The 'Dungeon Guard' says she'll trust Ferrofero for now and closes her heavy eyelids again. Her snoring echoes.
As the system messages ended, Ferrofero sighed in relief, patting his chest.
"Haaaaah. That was close, sir."
The Dungeon Guard was awfully moody. If things went wrong, she might break their deal and fire him. That's why he'd soothed her back to sleep before she noticed Hidden Space.
"As long as the dungeon doesn't get cleared, it's fine, sir!"
Ferrofero clenched his fists, nodding resolutely.
"Han Ji-woo! Just keep that human out of the way, sir!"
He racked his brains on how to eliminate Han Ji-woo.
* * *
"So, anything we build here gets shared with the dungeon we're raiding?"
"That's right."
"Hoo, interesting."
Os Gillro inspected the various structures, touching and testing them. Then he looked up at the night sky.
"A place where you can always see the sky. Nice. And there's a lake and waterfall too."
"Plenty of food as well."
"Hmph!"
Os Gillro suddenly stripped off his armor with a clatter.
Han Ji-woo, caught off-guard by the unexpected sight, yelped.
"Argh, my eyes! What the hell are you doing?!"
"Wanted a wash!"
With that, he charged straight into the lake.
Splash!
"Kuhahaha! I'm alive!"
In his dungeon raids, the only water he'd touched was drinking rations and the sea. No chance to bathe properly. But here was a massive lake welcoming him—he couldn't resist.
After a thorough rinse, Os Gillro emerged refreshed and dressed again. Han Ji-woo handed him an apple.
"Here."
"An apple! How long's it been?!"
Os Gillro chomped into the ripe fruit, shuddering in delight.
"Mmm! This is it! This exact taste!"
As he trembled in ecstasy, Han Ji-woo asked.
"From your dungeon-clearing experience, what was the most needed thing?"
"Food and a comfy rest spot! Sure, my skill let me make shelter anytime, but food was the real killer."
He took another crisp bite.
Crunch.
Crunch.
"Food's overflowing here now, so a proper rest spot would be great. As you see, my house is kinda small."
Han Ji-woo pointed to the 2-pyeong structure. Sure, Creation's build mode could expand it plenty, but that was it—no dwarf-crafted comfort.
Han Ji-woo knew how sick Os Gillro was of crude builds. He prodded deliberately.
"Oh dear! That's a house? What's the difference between you and an orc?!"
Predictably, Os Gillro bristled, rolling up his sleeves.
Han Ji-woo grinned.
"Then build us a real house? Say, around 50 pyeong."
"Hah! Just watch! I'll make a mansion tough enough no average monster can scratch!"
Os Gillro pulled a hammer from his inventory, eyes gleaming.