My Own Dungeon
In this Dungeon Maker world, dungeons aren't just simple hunting grounds. To monsters, they're precious nests and homes. If you compare it to Earth, they're like real estate. That's why good dungeons are expensive. The more intricate the traps and the more flawless the defense systems, the safer they are from adventurer invasions—especially if high-grade monsters inhabit them. Just like a penthouse in the heart of Gangnam, S-rank dungeons here command top dollar.
But not everyone can live in a prime dungeon. Why not? Because the better the house, the higher the maintenance fees. Dungeons are no different. The finer the dungeon, the murderously expensive the upkeep. Buying a dungeon from a dungeon-making company doesn't end things. The owner—the dungeon proprietor—must shell out massive monthly fees for system maintenance, monster feed, and more. Fall behind on payments? The defense systems shut down, the stationed monsters go on strike or bolt. In the end, the empty dungeon gets raided by adventurers, and the owner either gets cleared out or ends up on the streets.
It's a brutally capitalist world where only the wealthy can live safely in good dungeons.
"Haa."
I let out a deep sigh, adjusting my tie. Behind my reflection in the mirror, moldy, peeling wallpaper came into view. This was a communal dungeon housing complex on the outskirts of the demon realm—like a crumbling old apartment building on Earth. Forget soundproofing; the orc next door's snoring kept me up at night, and unidentified slime ooze dripped from the ceiling.
"I want to move to a nice dungeon too."
S-rank was a pipe dream. Even a quiet B-rank where it didn't leak rain and the neighbors didn't wail every night would be heaven. But with my pitiful salary, it was impossible. Even if the executive director and branch manager had praised me yesterday and promised a promotion, it was still far off. I couldn't afford to move right now. And even if I got promoted tomorrow, when would I ever afford my own dungeon?
It's still a long way off.
I felt needlessly depressed. Having to worry about housing even in this world.
Wait a second.
My hand paused mid-tie. A single possibility flashed through my mind.
Do I really need to move? I can just make one myself.
Thinking about it, yeah. I was a dungeon maker. One with a cheat key no one else knew: urban horror legends. Normal dungeons cost a fortune to staff with monsters and maintain traps, but my method was different. Horror stories didn't eat, didn't demand wages. Give them a tale and some grudges, and they ran themselves—a cost-effective dungeon.
Zero maintenance fees...
Of course, I hadn't run a horror dungeon long enough to know its full effects on the owner. Maybe the owner gets devoured by the horror. But I knew all the countermeasures. Even if that happened, it wouldn't be a problem for me.
This is a revolution!
What if I made a dungeon just for me? Safe, no upkeep, and it handled intruders automatically. The perfect personal dungeon.
Doesn't this mean I can set up my own right now?
I could just snag a crumbling ruin on the outskirts and customize it to my taste. My heart raced. I remembered the 10,000 points I'd socked away from the Succubus Queen's commission. That was enough for a decent fixer-upper.
But my goal wasn't a lease. It was full ownership.
Without hesitation, I messaged Team Leader Liliane for a day off. It was last-minute, but she'd approved it specially thanks to yesterday's big win.
I hung up, threw on the rest of my clothes, and bolted out the door. Destination: the demon realm dungeon brokerage. Real estate central.
"Welcome! What kind of property are you looking for?"
The broker—a minion of Mammon, the demon of greed—greeted me with a sleazy grin as I entered the demon realm dungeon brokerage.
"Budget's 10,000 points. Looking for listings in that range."
"Ah, 10,000 points? Lease or rent would work fi—"
"No, I want to buy outright."
"......"
The broker's expression twisted oddly.
"Ahem, 10,000 isn't chump change, but prices have risen lately. Safe areas are tough to find."
He fiddled with his tablet, showing a few listings. Mostly cramped caves or sewers—real dumps.
"Not these. Anything bigger, more complex? Condition doesn't matter."
"Hmm... big and complex for 10,000..."
He pondered, then cautiously swiped the screen.
"Customer, what about a cursed plot?"
"Cursed plot?"
"Yes. The structure itself is near A-rank quality. Used to belong to a high vampire count."
"A count?"
A place fit for nobility? The screen showed a grand but eerie three-story mansion, exuding gloom. Withered trees in the garden, shattered windows. Perfectly sinister vibe.
"Why's it so cheap?"
"Well... bad location. Right in the middle of the Fog Forest, on the border between the human realm and demon realm."
The broker lowered his voice.
"As you know, that's a major adventurer route. Intruders non-stop. The previous owner, the count, got his dungeon cleared and fled. Now it's toxic inventory."
In other words, hellish defense difficulty. No matter how nice, constant raids make upkeep impossible. Hence the bargain price on what looked premium.
Jackpot.
A grin spread across my face. Border with humans? Heavy adventurer traffic? That meant prey walking right in.
Dungeons were homes and side gigs for looting adventurer gear.
"We'll take it."
"Pardon? For real? You won't last a week... No refunds?"
I signed the contract without a second thought. The broker's face split into a massive smile only then.
"Excellent choice, sir. We'll handle the title transfer. Move in tomorrow."
He shook my hand vigorously, his sleazy grin wider. Happy to offload the dud.
I was thrilled too. My own dungeon, in my name.
With all paperwork done, I left with a spring in my step. Rest today, back to work tomorrow. Had to nail this school project for the promotion—and the points.
The next morning. Belial Enterprise, Eastern Sales Team 3.
I arrived earlier than usual and settled in. Yesterday's rest had me in peak condition. The office was empty.
Plenty of time.
No one else had arri—"Aiden?"
I jumped and turned. Team Leader Liliane. Perfect suit as always, coffee in hand.
"Oh, Team Leader. You're in early."
She leaned lightly on my desk corner.
"Sudden leave like that—what happened yesterday?"
"Just personal business. Family stuff."
"Family stuff... Okay."
She didn't pry, cutting to the chase.
"Anyway, the project timeline you showed the day before got moved up."
"Moved up?"
"Yes. HQ wants results ASAP. No idea why, but upper management's treating this one as top priority."
She patted my shoulder.
"So make up for yesterday and wrap it by noon. I know you can."
Liliane smiled and headed to her seat. I stared blankly at her back.
Day after vacation, and boom—deadline crunch. This company didn't mess around.
Whatever.
I just had to make the dungeon. And it was basically done.
The infamous school horror.
Whoever entered would suffer to figure out the countermeasures.
The same time, human realm.
Deep in the grand cathedral of the Holy Kingdom, bathed in sacred light—a dim, humid basement chamber far from the holy atmosphere above. Three cardinals in white robes gathered around a table draped in red velvet.
"Word from the demon realm."
The youngest cardinal reported in a trembling voice, placing a magic communicator orb on the table. It displayed info on a dungeon: Aiden's Private Girls' High School.
[Theme: School]
- Features: Control and indoctrination by absolute school rules.
"A school... A school made by demons."
Senior Cardinal Benedict muttered in his raspy voice. His eyes gleamed not with faith, but madness.
"Heretic prisoners' defiance is growing. Torture and sermons can't cleanse their filthy thoughts anymore."
"But borrowing demon power? If the faithful find out..."
"Silence!"
Benedict slammed the table.
"This is a noble decision for God's will. Using a lesser evil to purge a greater one."
He greedily scanned the orb's dungeon details. A realm ruled by rules and terror. Perfect for reprogramming heretics who denied God's name.
"We'll buy this dungeon."
"Cardinal!"
"Price doesn't matter. Drain the Holy See's slush fund if needed. Keep it secret—gag the demons too."
Benedict steepled his hands in mock prayer.
The Holy Kingdom allying with demons. Blasphemy, but they had the noble excuse of indoctrination.
"If the heretics who enter... truly repent and emerge, God will forgive."
The Holy Kingdom's secret corruption. And at its heart: Aiden's school horror.
"But testing performance is only natural."
Benedict slowly opened his eyes.
"We have perfect test subjects, don't we?"
"Test subjects...?"
The young cardinal asked cautiously.
A vile smile curled Benedict's lips.
"Holy knights disciplined for breaking doctrine."
"......!"
The Holy Kingdom's darkness ran deeper than ever.