The Midnight Scouting Offer
The antique clock, a scouting gift of ornate design, chimed the stroke of midnight. Yet rather than shattering the silence, its toll only bore down heavier on the oppressive air. Baal, patriarch of Diendi Make, stared wordlessly out the window.
"……."
The demonic city's nightscape glittered in his eyes, but inside, he burned. Diendi Make was crumbling bit by bit. Once, it had dominated the dungeon market with raw power and destruction as its creed. But times had changed. Adventurers had grown smarter; brute force alone couldn't hold them back anymore. Of course, power and ruin still worked to some degree. But the cost-performance was abysmal. Pummeling monsters and traps into place for defense wasn't efficient for a dungeon-making company.
Compare that to the rival, Belial Enterprise. Their recent dungeons had been smashing hits, steadily eroding the market share. And rumor had it they'd scored massive profits from a secret project.
If this continues... we'll be devoured within ten years.
Baal clenched his fist. He needed a breakthrough. Something revolutionary to shatter the status quo.
Knock knock—The office door opened, and the butler entered. A vampire and Baal's loyal retainer, Sebastian.
"Master, the investigation you ordered is complete."
The task he'd assigned Sebastian was simple: the colleague who had sparked his son Zartus's jealousy. Dig into that one. What kind of dungeon had he built to surpass his son? That was what gnawed at Baal most.
"Bring it here."
Masking his fatigue, Baal took the documents Sebastian offered.
"Word is, his presence at Belial has skyrocketed lately."
Name:Aiden
Affiliation:Belial Enterprise Eastern Sales Team 3
Race:Human Half-Demon Hybrid
"A half-demon, huh..."
Baal's eyes narrowed. In the demon world, the most despised hybrid mongrel. And this one had churned out hit after hit lately? Even making waves inside Belial?
"Continue."
"Yes. The employee was on the brink of dismissal due to poor performance but skyrocketed after succeeding with one dungeon. Adventurers call it the Red Mask dungeon."
"Red Mask?"
"Yes. The same one where the orc mercenaries died."
Baal's brow furrowed briefly. He remembered. They'd sent in a demolition crew, only to get wiped out.
Sebastian adjusted his glasses and pressed on. "...The standout feature is minimal use of high-rank monsters or expensive traps. Instead, it seems he sets special rules within the dungeon to repel adventurers. A novel concept unseen in traditional dungeon theory."
"A new concept."
Baal stroked his chin. Repelling adventurers without elite monsters or traps? Via special rules? Low-cost, high-efficiency. Psychological warfare that caught them off-guard. Exactly what Diendi Make needed now.
"And there's one crucial piece of intel."
Sebastian lowered his voice.
"Do you recall the 'Echoing Love Letter' dungeon I mentioned before?"
"Mm? Of course. The one commissioned in strict secrecy, right?"
Baal remembered. That dungeon was this Aiden's work too. But the client was confidential, so no demolition crew.
And Sebastian's follow-up:
"Precisely. Word is, it was commissioned by Her Majesty Lilith herself."
"Her Majesty's commission?!"
Baal's eyes widened. Who was Lilith? The Succubus Queen. Every demon entrepreneur knew how demanding a client she was. Countless veteran makers had failed to impress her and been cast out. Yet this mere office drone had satisfied her?
"If the rumors hold, it's astonishing."
"She was thoroughly pleased. Even bestowed a Blooming Night VIP membership, per our sources."
"Heh, that impressive?"
Baal's gaze sharpened. Not just any employee—perhaps the key to saving crumbling Diendi Make.
"Also, intel says he recently bought a dungeon under his personal name. Location: the ruined mansion in Fog Forest. Former home of a vampire count."
"Fog Forest ruined mansion...?"
Baal's brow twitched. Infamous cursed land. Monsters failed to claim it, got looted by adventurers—a doomed dungeon.
"Heh..."
Buying that place with his own money.
Great at making dungeons, but no eye for land?
No matter. He made good dungeons—that was proven. Baal was convinced: Aiden was the real deal. He had to acquire him.
"Sebastian."
"Yes, Master."
"Go fetch him. Scout him to Diendi Make."
Baal set the documents on his desk.
"Offer twenty times his current salary—no, make it thirty. Throw in A-rank dungeon management rights. Pull him to our side, whatever it takes."
"Understood. But..."
Sebastian ventured cautiously.
"If he refuses?"
Twenty times the pay—who wouldn't bite? Unlikely, but Sebastian preferred certainty.
Baal's eyes gleamed coldly.
"If we can't have him, destroy him. Cut the bud before Belial grows stronger. Bury him with that prized dungeon if need be."
"As you command."
Butler Sebastian bowed elegantly.
"...So you want to scout me?"
I stared at the man before me. Black tailcoat, white gloves, impeccable slicked-back hair. Diendi Make's butler, Sebastian, he'd introduced himself. I'd run into him on my way home from work.
"Indeed, Mr. Aiden. My master holds your talents in the highest regard. We'll guarantee twenty times your current salary, plus A-rank dungeon management rights."
Twenty times. My heart thumped. Twenty times my pittance was a fortune. And A-rank dungeon rights? As good as company housing—an A-rank one! Every dungeon master's dream.
Honestly, I wanted to swear loyalty and follow right then.
But.
Bound by my HR Score.
Hit -100, and it's permanent dismissal. That nagged at me. Sure, Diendi Make might have the same system, but if not?
And besides.
I side-eyed Sebastian.
"……."
This guy knew my name, rank, recent dungeons—even my private ruined mansion purchase.
Thorough background check.
How could I trust someone who'd dug that deep? Could be a ploy to eliminate a rising star or dodge paying up. Either way, trouble.
Damn, a mirage in the desert.
I schooled my expression.
"Sorry, but I'll pass."
"...Pardon?"
Sebastian's brow twitched. Clearly thrown by the refusal.
"The terms unsatisfactory? We can adjust further if—"
"No, the offer's excellent. Just..."
I shrugged.
"Personal reasons tie me here for now."
Sebastian took it as firm rejection; his demeanor shifted. The polite smile vanished, leaving chill frost.
"Mr. Aiden, I urge you to reconsider."
Reconsider? My mind was set. I was with Belial Enterprise.
"My master despises refusal. Especially... for prizes he's marked."
"Prize, huh."
See? True colors showing.
"That seals it, then. I'm no prize."
"Hah, arrogant mongrel."
"I'll be going."
I gave a cursory nod and walked off.
Time to prepare.
He'd straight-up threatened me. Anything could happen now.
Sebastian watched Aiden's retreating back. His attendants appeared behind him—vampire kin he'd brought.
"Butler, what now? Kidnap him?"
One asked.
Sebastian adjusted his gloves, frowning.
"Not yet."
He recalled Aiden's Fog Forest mansion purchase.
"Tonight, raid his dungeon."
Time to teach the insolent half-demon his place—and strip him of everything.
"Crush him in the most agonizing, pathetic way."
A vile smirk spread across the butler's face.
Time flew; night fell. Fog Forest drowned in thicker darkness, the ruined mansion deathly still. Sebastian and his kin stood before it, dozens of vampires' red eyes gleaming, awaiting orders.
"End it quick."
Sebastian commanded lowly.
Cursed dungeon. Already rife with grim rumors. If Aiden vanished here, no one would question it. They'd just tsk at buying such a deathtrap.
Aiden, you brought this on yourself.
Daring to refuse Master Baal. The price? His life wouldn't cover it. Eternal imprisonment, crafting dungeons forever.
"Enter."
At Sebastian's signal, vampires melted into the mansion like shadows.
Creeeak—
Sebastian scoffed. The rat was trapped. His kin would drag him out, kneeling.
But.
"……?!"
Sebastian's eyes bulged. They'd entered through the front door—yet no first-floor lobby. Endless yellow rooms stretched out. Musty wet carpet stench. Buzzing fluorescent hum from the ceiling.
"What... is this?"
Sebastian whirled. No entrance door. Just identical yellow walls.
"Butler! What the—?!"
"The door's gone!"
His vanguard kin panicked, milling about.
Sebastian scowled. Illusion? Spatial magic? No way a wreck like this had high-tier spells.
"Calm down. Cheap trick."
He forced composure. But cold sweat trickled down his spine at the unforeseen.
This was... wrong.
"……!"
Then, a chill gaze from nowhere. Empty yellow rooms, barren. Yet the sense of being watched wouldn't fade.