Thump! Thump! Thump!

Ferrofero's heart pounded like mad. Even in that moment, the messages kept coming.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

…….

Ferrofero stared at the stream of messages in utter confusion. It felt like some ridiculously playful scene was unfolding…….

CRACK!

"Nyaaaaaaaang!"

In an instant, searing pain flared across Ferrofero's back. The Creator's whip hadn't been aimed at the Dungeon Guard—it was for him.

Ferrofero's face drained of color. He couldn't even tend to his throbbing back as he flattened himself to the ground, groveling desperately.

"I-I'm sorryyy! P-Please, just spare my life, and I swear I won't do it againyy! I really messed upyy!"

"Huh? Th-Then you'll spare me, rightyy?"

"……!"

Ferrofero's eyes went wide. The Creator already knew about the Hidden Spaceand Han Ji-woo's existence. But for some reason, they had no intention of fixing it. If anything, they seemed to be enjoying it immensely.

Ferrofero had spent 50 years of his own lifespan at the administrator shop to temporarily borrow the Creator's authority. Using that power, he'd forced the Dungeon Guard back to sleep. But now the real Creator had appeared and lightened that effect just a bit. It was the first time Ferrofero had witnessed the Creator wielding their authority firsthand—even if it was all just text. Still, it was an astonishing experience. And he learned one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠key fact: even the Creator consumed lifespan to use their powers. But it wasn't their lifespan—it was 'lifespan received from someone'.

Who would offer lifespan to the Creator, and why? Through what channels?

All sorts of hypotheses swirled in Ferrofero's mind, but the first one that flashed through was himself. Hadn't he spent lifespan at the administrator shop to buy items? That vanished lifespan must have been absorbed by the Creator. And the Creator used this 'lifespan received from someone' to exercise their authority.

'Lifespan from those who die in the dungeon might also be absorbed by the Creator!'

So why did the Creator keep running this dungeon game across the multiverse? To bolster their own authority, perhaps!

Thud.

Ferrofero collapsed spread-eagled right there. The whirlwind of tension that had raged through him left him utterly drained.

"They…… knew everythingyy."

In the end, the Creator knew it all. Yet they hadn't changed a thing. They'd merely woken the Dungeon Guard a little early. A crushing sense of defeat suddenly weighed on his heart. He felt like an ant before a human—ants fighting over a crumb on the dirt floor while the human watched with amusement. This situation was no different. No matter what they did in the Hidden Space, it posed no threat to the Creator, so they just let it play out. All of it was mere entertainment to them.

A game they could never escape from the palm of their hand.

……But.

'That doesn't mean I do nothing—as her guard knight, I can't allow ityy!'

No matter how slim the chance, if there was even a sliver of possibility, he'd fight to protect the princess with his last breath! That was a guard knight's duty and fate.

Three days ahead. A lot if plenty, little if scarce. Ferrofero turned his eyes to the crystal orb, pondering what he could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do in that time. It showed the twenty heroes clearing the 13th underground floor at terrifying speed.

As the sun dipped low in the evening.

Bubble bubble.

The Hidden Space filled with a rich, savory aroma. In the iron pot over the fire pit, a spicy fish stew packed with all sorts of fish and freshwater crabs bubbled furiously.

Gulp!

Han Ji-woo and his five pets gathered around the pot, throats bobbing in unison. The rice in the adjacent pot had just finished cooking.

"Ugh, I can't take it anymore."

After tussling with monsters all morning, his energy was drained—his stomach practically stuck to his back. Han Ji-woo grabbed some onions he'd prepped as a side, dipped them in ssamjang, crunched them down, and chased with a spoonful of rice. The sharp, sweet onions mixed perfectly with the salty, hearty ssamjang for an unbeatable rice topping.

Nom nom. Gulp!

"Ahh, it's bringing tears to my eyes."

It might seem over the top for just an onion, but for Han Ji-woo, who hadn't tasted this in ages, it was totally warranted. Now that I've eaten new ingredients, my stamina should ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠go up~ he thought expectantly. Then a message far exceeded expectations.

"Huh?"

A +10k stamina boost would be great, but now it was +2? "Have I seriously eaten thirty already?"

Han Ji-woo counted on his fingers. But no matter how he tallied, it didn't add up to thirty.

"Weird."

As he scratched his head, Turkan approached. "What's weird, master? Queeik!"

"……Oh, right."

When Han Ji-woo followed Pao back and forth to the Dungeon Prison, Turkan kept offering food he hated. Things like grilled bugs he'd never seen before. Even as drool poured from his own mouth, Turkan gave them to Han Ji-woo—apparently top delicacies among orcs, handed over as a sacrifice. Unable to ignore the loyalty, Han Ji-woo had forced a few down. He'd dismissed them as "not food," erasing them from memory. What had been torture then was helping now. Man, I trained these pets perfectly.

Bubble bubble.

The wait continued. 'Never thought I'd actually make spicy fish stew.'

The stew's ingredients: assorted fish and crabs, radish planted that morning and harvested by evening, onions, peppers, sesame leaves, soybean paste, gochujang, soy sauce, salt, honey, and gochugaru. The gochugaru he'd crafted by combining red peppers and flame flower petals in the creation menu. And this time's honey wasn't from salvia petals.

Han Ji-woo's gaze drifted to the beehive atop the apple tree. Buzz buzz— a massive swarm of iron-shelled pumpkin bees flew about, hauling nectar. So the honey in today's stew was straight-up real honey!

The iron-shelled pumpkin queen bee had built a huge hive by midday, then started laying eggs. No males around—self-fertilizing? The lone queen diligently sucked nectar from flowers and injected it into the eggs. Definitely not your average Earth bees. But that didn't matter to Han Ji-woo. He wanted honey in his stew. Traditional recipes used a pinch of sugar in the seasoning; he aimed to swap it for honey—real honey if possible.

To speed up hatching and filling the hive, he'd even used Growth Acceleration himself. As expected, the larvae grew fast: eggs to larvae to pupae to full bees. The newborn workers buzzed to work under the queen's orders, hauling nectar nonstop until dinner prep. The hive must be brimming now.

How to harvest? Surprisingly, the queen and workers started building a new hive. Ignoring the full one, they focused on the fresh build—and finished it in a flash. With workers helping, progress skyrocketed. Then they began filling the new hive.

To Han Ji-woo, the full one seemed meant for him, so he snagged it. The bees didn't care. Success—he'd added real honey to the stew.

"Let's see."

Han Ji-woo fished out a piece of radish. "Mmm~ perfect!"

Perfectly softened radish meant the stew was done.

And the delightful follow-up message.

"Alright, everyone—dig in!"

At their master's call, the pets crowded the table eagerly. Han Ji-woo portioned out fair shares and dove in. First, a sip of broth.

Slurp.

"Kaaah."

Cool, spicy, bursting with fishy savoriness—it was insane. Umami overload, mind-blowing. And the sesame leaves' unique aroma? Divine touch! His hands flew.

Fluffy rice in, then broth. The moment they mingled on his tongue—game over.

"Too damn good."

Tasting proper broth after so long actually choked him up. Beyond the soup, the fish was melt-in-your-mouth tender and clean. Han Ji-woo lost himself in the feast. The pets were no different.

Pao was so innocently pure and kind. Pao just did his routine tasks, nothing more. He'd gathered kitchen scraps during cooking and dumped them by the Dungeon Tree. After eating, he collected fish bones and dumped those too. Then nature called—he relieved himself by the tree.

So.

The gauge, at 98.2%, hit 100% in no time.

"……Pao."

Deep irritation laced Han Ji-woo's call. 'I specifically said no more fertilizer today. When did you sneak that much in? From lunch onward?' He lacked the energy to say it.

"Whatever. This one's probably not too hard anywa—"

"……Huh?"