Chapter 7
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Floor 2 - Lv.27 Fairy and Orc (3)
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The goblin trail didn't look like it had formed in just a day or two.
Follow it, and you'd probably come across a small village where wild goblins gathered.
And sure enough, that's what happened.
The scale was fitting for the second floor—not too big. Maybe a dozen more at most.
Less a village, more like a campsite.
It took a fair bit of time to clean up.
The fight itself didn't drag on. It was purely my stamina holding me back.
I needed a break before heading out, another after arriving.
And even more after finishing them off.
Sitting in the blood-soaked clearing between their huts, the Hunter spoke up.
"Must be tough."
"What is?"
"The stamina issue."
"It'll get better soon enough."
There was almost reverence in his gaze.
This Labyrinth is Roguelike.
Die, and you lose everything, back to square one.
That "one" being the exact moment I first set foot here.
For someone like me—far from outdoorsy, no real health regimen—it hit like a bolt from the blue.
I've picked up plenty of body-maintenance tricks since entering, but they mean squat after a death reset.
"I always pump a skill point into Strength first thing."
Even so, stats don't deliver dramatic results once you're in the real deal.
Grinding levels for +1 or +2 won't turn you superhuman overnight.
Still, you can become a reasonably healthy human.
"Gotta work out more too. Bodybuilding's getting old."
"Bodybuilding?"
"You don't know? Stats aside, your actual physique affects performance."
"......"
Silence like he'd never heard of it.
Can't be helped. In a Labyrinth where lives are cheap, info is prime currency.
Few blab what they know.
Those types don't know jack in the first place.
It's no exaggeration: over 70% of Exiles never even knock on the kingdom's door.
They squat on some floor without Sudden Death and call it a life.
This middle-aged American probably did the same somewhere.
Until unavoidable death sent him back to the start.
I don't blame them entirely.
I at least know this world as a game.
For others, it's pure disaster, driving them to find safe ground.
Humans are fragile; no point faulting each weakness.
Countless Exiles can't even dream of conquering the place.
After catching my breath, I staggered to my feet.
"Dying and respawning means muscle pain for days. Need protein."
Your body adapts to intense fights like that. Feed it right, and it'll shape up nicely.
"Weird seeing Faction War on floor 2, but stuff like this is right where it should be."
Near the goblin camp stood a familiar tree.
Its purple fruits gleamed unnaturally inviting—and they were.
System-spawned fruits.
They pop up around small monster groups like this.
Effects vary wildly, always random.
Purple might've been poison last run; no guarantee this time.
Speed fruit? Invisibility? Straight poison? Eat to find out.
The Hunter plucked one. Weird purple thing, like some devil fruit from a comic.
"Shouldn't you check what it is? Lucky for us, I just got [Poison Resistance]."
He'd closed his eyes briefly to allocate stats.
He'd hit level 4 just now. I'd hunted more, killed a person too—level 6.
The Hunter didn't need advice; he'd picked his path.
Stick to what you're good at. Ranger experience means Agility tree familiarity—and that's his limit.
Even with cheap lives, few abandon a settled floor for death-risk exploration.
Hunter was that type, crossbow and all. I didn't stop him.
I shook my head.
"Never seen a bomb fruit? Eat that, and you're dead."
I nicked the skin with my dagger, juice trickling out.
"Bomb fruit? First I've heard."
"Low odds. Power's like [Explosion] scroll level."
"Not much magic experience, so hard to picture."
"Int tree's a late-bloomer anyway."
Few idiots start Intelligence. Mages suck early.
Then the fruit started glowing red-hot.
"Shit. For real."
I went to hurl it far, remembered my Strength.
Eyes met Hunter's.
I shoved it to him quick.
He chucked it with all his might.
I yelled, diving for cover.
"Down!"
BOOM!
That was close. Real close.
Bomb fruits heat up and detonate on damage.
Delay depends on injury depth—stab deep, boom instant.
I time for five seconds out of habit.
His toss went maybe 30 meters.
Good it was light, fruit and all. No tree snag.
It sailed between trees, erupting in thunderous blast and flames, toppling trunks.
Ground quaked.
I rolled through the tremors.
Scrapes everywhere.
Not even a goblin scratch before. Damn.
"Almost died so lame."
"You suspected bomb fruit, right?"
"Why's it even on floor 2? Faction War too. Shit keeps happening."
Griping aside, I should've considered it.
Labyrinth variables, sure—but rewards match difficulty. Constant.
Fruits count as rewards.
My screw-up.
Blast edges collapsed two huts.
Trees down, aflame.
"Spreading to wildfire?"
"Dry weather."
Not hot. Some leaves turning; late fall vibe.
Drier than Korean winter, though. Bad feeling it'd rage.
"Grab the fruits quick and bounce. Not our home; let it burn."
"Fairies'll hate it. Might try killing us."
"Proof it was us?"
"No, but..."
"Then whatever. They'll put it out."
Hunter grimaced.
We harvested five fruits total.
Inconvenient next to an [Explosion] scroll—instant blast anywhere—but power matches.
"These are rare. Free magic nukes. Stronger than [Fireball]. Got it?"
"Not like grenades, yeah."
Grenades kill via shrapnel, not pure blast.
This? Pure shockwave matches grenade radius.
Bit unluckier, we'd both be goners.
"Gaining rare experience. Floor 2 feels post-10. Believable."
"Agreed."
"These fruits aren't all good news. Means trouble ahead needing 'em."
"Right......"
I pulled up my Mind Map while moving. 1 stat per level.
[Blink Dagger] suffices now; I spread points into Strength, no new skills.
Body tech solves most sans skills.
Key's stamina to execute.
Hard to feel, but rest stops shortened on return.
Muscle pain tomorrow's inevitable, but improving.
Hunter backtracked easy via markers.
I manage, but pre-Labyrinth tracking differs from in-here skills.
Past runs leaned on skills for pursuit.
Superhuman easy; bad for learning new.
Familiar spring terrain appeared; I just wanted to crash.
Done for today. Body creaking.
Wrists—keyboard/mouse only—were frail as hell.
Probably matches that high schooler's.
But combat traces at the spring entrance killed the thought.
Hunter whispered.
"Bloodstains too."
"Arrow in that tree."
"Too refined for Greenskins. Fairies spotted us."
"Fairies don't use all weapons. Axe marks on the tree—orc or ogre size, orc."
Evidence clear: spring raided.
How many hours since floor 2? Four? Pointless questioning.
Fact is fact.
I slung shotgun sidearm, ran. Hunter stowed mace, drew crossbow.
No holding back.
Enemies inside? Ambush and drop 'em.
Girl's fate unknown, but fierce fight evident.
Maybe wounded, evaded, hiding.
Securing spring vital for healing.
If ambushing her return, they won't expect projectiles.
Shotgun hits regardless.
Thick brush hiding entrance—sliced. I slide-tackled narrow mouth low.
Spot target, blast immediate.
Hunter covered behind.
Presence inside. Breath in—aim, fire...
"Huh? Uncle, why slide in like that?"
Almost did.
"What the hell?"
"Huh."
I muttered limp in slide pose.
Hunter followed, groaned in disbelief.
Inside: one fairy, one orc, rope-bound tight.
Used all the cords I'd twisted pre-departure.
Wrapped so thorough, gift-wrapped packages.
"Didn't know binding protocol, so I just wound 'em up. Hehe."
She read my stunned look, grinned.
Looking fine now, but uniform rips and slashes screamed hard fight.
"Not that. Explain why they're tied here."
Girl beamed proud.
"Passed by, peeked—attacked."
"Beat 'em both down?"
"'Beat'? Gave 'em some stabs."
Ignoring her nonsense, turned to Hunter.
His eyes distant, nostalgic.
Probably mine too.
Straightened; girl approached sparkling expectant as a pup.
I pondered, praised anyway.
Better than captured.