I Like Sticky Things
"Hah…"
Magic Tower Master Evangeline let out a hollow laugh.
How long had it been since someone had toyed with her like this? She'd spent the last few years rolling around in bed, so her emotions hadn't stirred like this in ages.
Though, sure, irritation boiled up at the audacity of that Dungeon Master mocking her.
"Hoo… Calm down. Still, thanks to this guy, time in the Shelter is moving again."
The truth was, Evangeline had already given up, convinced the Shelter's situation was beyond saving.
For the first five years, she'd thrown herself into improving things—leading by example, launching every project imaginable.
But no matter what methods she tried or ideas she came up with, it all led to one conclusion: humanity's predicament had no answer.
At first, she'd believed there had to be a way out somewhere. But as the data piled up, those supposed paths vanished behind the harsh reality.
With the Shelter's power output, they couldn't fight the surface monsters anymore. All that was left was to consume the dwindling resources inside and die.
Everyone on borrowed time.
Even her best efforts might stretch the Shelter's lifespan by five years at most. Terminal either way.
She'd even considered touring the world's Shelters and massacring 90% of the population to give the survivors a shot.
But even then… in these unstable Shelters, they wouldn't last long.
Shelters have no sky. We'd underestimated how fragile this closed environment was.
No wind blows in a Shelter.
No animals. No trees. No insects.
No sun, moon, or stars.
We hadn't realized back then how frail our minds were for surviving this unstable sliver of a world, carved out like some half-assed imitation.
'Should've set up a massive illusion barrier for a fake sky.'
But after the war, they lacked the resources even for that…
Depression rates in the Shelter kept climbing, and public order naturally crumbled.
From the start…
How many species could even survive in an underground hell like this?
Some refugees had crawled out to die under an open sky, insisting that's how they'd go.
The plan never made sense to begin with.
She'd been mulling over developing a mercy drug for mass euthanasia when that bizarre item—[Dungeon Ticket]—popped up in the market.
"…The sky."
Evangeline pulled out the ticket the Dungeon Master had given her.
It connected to the sea, he'd said.
"…Maybe a change of scenery?"
But first—
Only the usual chatty Padak crew posted; the rest seemed to be lurking.
"They'll handle it."
Work done, time to roll around in bed.
Still—
"The sea, huh…"
Been cooped up too long.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Where to go…"
For a change from my usual street food, I headed to the Shelter's core for proper restaurants instead of the stalls.
Problem: As a total shut-in, I had no clue about the layout.
I rarely wandered far from home even on walks, so now I was lost in real-time.
Figured the center would have good spots… but this looked like rich folk territory at a glance.
Fancy buildings everywhere, unlike other residential zones.
And at the boulevard's end, a massive mansion…
"Why's that there?"
In a dying Shelter, does a building hogging that much space even make sense?
'Even in a crumbling world, the elite thrive…'
Probably where the Shelter's bigwigs lived…
"Who the hell lives there?"
Curiosity surged, but food first.
"Gotta find a restaurant… Doesn't look like any here. Head back?"
I retraced my steps, asked locals for recs, and found a spot popular with the middle class.
This restaurant strip should give plenty of dungeon ideas just by scouting around.
Ding-a-ling—
I pushed open the door; a server greeted me.
"Welcome! Party of one?"
"One person and one pup."
The server bowed apologetically at my words.
"Sorry, sir, we don't allow pets…"
Hek hek…
As she bowed, her eyes met Kkomangi's. She froze, then wore a "What is this thing?" look before recovering.
"…Is that a pet… dog? It doesn't bark or poop, right?"
"Nope, never pooped outside once."
I'd trained Kkomangi rigorously on that. If someone saw tickets popping out mid-poop, my cover was blown.
Luckily, as a slime, holding it didn't faze him.
Training made me realize: pooping was just ticket production, not a vital bodily function.
The server kindly showed us to an empty table.
"But my dog's a slime—is it really okay in a restaurant? Hope it's not too much trouble…"
I'd planned takeout if pets weren't allowed.
"Oh, no worries. Policy changed—we allow magic creatures that don't bother other guests."
"Good to know."
Didn't get what that meant, but whatever.
I ordered a few popular dishes. While waiting, I gallery-scrolled for intel.
"People's reactions to Kkomangi were chill… Guess magic creatures are common?"
Searching "magic creature" and "pet" yielded this:
Shelter pet owners? Mostly upper class—huge taxes.
Tamers brought animals/monsters; lower fees than pets.
Pets were a resource drain in a starving Shelter.
When dungeon yields dropped, animals got booted first—keeping minimal stock for future exodus.
'So current pet owners are loaded.'
Magic creatures? Magic Tower creations to replace pets.
No food needed, tuned for companionship. Simple forms, sometimes intangible.
"Hmm… Part of a depression-counter project…"
I glanced at Kkomangi.
Hek hek…
"Yeah, could help with the blues?"
You have a new message.
"Huh, what?"
Thought it was Joodak-hyung, but no.
Familiar nick—one of the Padaks, memorable for the weird tentacle fetish vibe.
Probably heard from Joodak that I'd help however I could.
Obviously, they'd only ask for custom dungeons.
What dungeon would they want? I could handle a couple easily now.
"Uh…"
Didn't see that coming??