Can't Even Form Parties Freely
"Ah... A dungeon, huh."
Even I, who knew most raids inside out, wasn't confident about dungeons. In the game, raids meant hopping through a portal, killing one boss mob, and calling it done. But dungeons? You had to trudge along endless paths, controlling your character, teaming up with party members to clear all the way to the end.
Of course, fatigue varied by difficulty, but most dungeons forced random matchmaking unless you gathered a premade party, which made them even more exhausting. Pair up with a tank who skipped survival skills, or a DPS pounding the keyboard mid-ramen bowl, and it was pure hell...
"Yes. We suspect a demon lurks at the end. Subjugating it is the commission given to the Gae Saeng Guild."
"As Brother Hamill says."
That was why I never liked dungeons much. Never went unless I had to.
And this wasn't a game. No instant dungeon instance—just open an interface and hit enter. Here, you walked in on your own two feet, explored the depths, ate and slept inside, and if luck soured, it could drag on for days. After weeks confined to bed or shuffling around the neighborhood, it sounded grueling for me.
But I couldn't complain. It wasn't just Daesik's guild on the line—our safety hung in the balance too.
"That's the dungeon Ivy mentioned exploring. Something must have happened there, no doubt."
Iris's words helped steel my resolve. If we could uncover what drew me into Ivy's body, maybe we'd find clues to getting back to reality. A sliver of hope.
Plus, unlike the game, this was real life. No four-man squad diving in solo. They'd hire more hands for stability, right? I clung to that optimism.
Feeling a bit easier, I prepared to meet Daesik with the two inquisitors and Hanbyeol. My "prep" meant rising, casting Purify out of habit, and letting Iris help with my outfit. Just draping a shoulder robe over my black priestess robes to hide the ropes binding my arms.
"You expect me to self-harm in a dungeon? If a mob gets close, I need some way to defend myself."
I grumbled about untying me already, but Iris smiled and opened a box wrapped in white paper.
"I figured. Underwear made for the church's saintesses."
"What? Not even bikini armor—how's underwear supposed to defend me?"
It wasn't my usual white panties. Black thong straps. The knot at the hip looked decorative, but with the priestess robes' side slits, it'd be on full display.
Iris just smiled, sat me on the bed. Her insistence overpowered me; I lay back, lifted my hips without protest. Fighting wasted my strength.
"Try it on. It's a holy relic bestowed by the goddess herself."
"A panty that's a holy relic...? Eek! Wh-what is this?!"
It looked like smooth black fabric, a bit skimpy. But the moment it touched my skin, a gritty, pebble-rolling sensation hit my cleft. Then something from the panties burrowed along my ass crack.
"Ah, Iris! What is this?! Take it off! Ah, no!"
"Relax. It won't harm you, Saintess."
"How do you know?! Who tested it? And if it's used, that's even worse!"
"Relax. You're the first."
"Then it's not safe!"
Something invaded the hole I absolutely shouldn't use. No pain, but a sensation I mustn't get used to. My body trembled, thighs rubbing desperately to shake it off. Bed friction did nothing.
"P-please! Something's entering my ass! Urgh!"
"It feeds on what your body expels. Guess that's not mana."
"Don't say it so casually—help!"
Iris seemed to enjoy my torment. One day, I'll get revenge, I vowed, praying for it to end.
Tentacles? Whatever sprouted from the empty panties had burrowed deep—impossible to gauge depth or girth. Terror at the unknown inside me made me stare at my flat belly. Smooth, slim—no sign of anything.
"Urk..."
My teeth chattered. The intrusion stopped; now I couldn't even guess what was happening. Done? Live with this parasite panty forever?
Iris kindly straightened my disheveled clothes and hair as I rolled in agony.
"How's it feel?"
"Gross... What is this? What holy relic?!"
"Hmm. Visible change is just the tail, it seems."
Following her finger, I saw a long, swaying tail. Like a cat's, it waved lazily, then nodded up-down at my face like a greeting when it noticed me.
"What is this?! Not even an anal plug tail!"
"Hm. Dunno what that is, but it seems friendly to you. Good."
Friendly? I never asked for ass-parasite panties. I pleaded tearfully to remove it; Iris just shook her head smiling.
"Our goddess left a message. This relic will serve you eternally."
"Eternally?! It never comes off? What, goddess superglue? Or lube?"
"Followers of our Father there too? We dare call Him FSM."
"..."
Ah, that goddess. I could picture her—nothing scary. Imagining the tail as curly noodles made it almost funny. Acceptance stage achieved.
The initial wriggling bumps in my lower entrance had quieted, no more teasing.
"Haa..."
My gut felt empty. Biologically, humans absorb ~30% nutrients, excrete the rest—but something feeding on that, bonded as underwear? Still physiologically repulsive.
I blasted Purify repeatedly, burning mana. No dice. It wriggled happily, like dancing. Fine. Fantasy world. Nutrients absorbed in intestines—who knows. Parasite won't kill host. Whatever.
I gave up.
"Tail makes you cuter."
"Don't talk to me."
Thankfully, no snag when standing or walking. Only gross during entry; now, nothing. Just the tail swishing, tapping the hem of my robes.
Had they heard the bedroom commotion? Waiting Hamill stayed stone-faced; Hanbyeol, just arrived, beamed innocently.
"Sis, sleep well?"
"Hanbyeol... Without you, I'd..."
She made me smile. Wanted to hug, but ropes prevented—settled for forehead bump and head shake.
Then my tail snuck between, patting her back.
"Hm? Sis got a tail?"
"Y-yeah."
I couldn't control it, but maybe it acted for my hands. Tentacle technically, but "tail" sounded cuter. Less gross.
Hanbyeol giggled, called it cute. Crisis averted.
We four headed to the teahouse. Daesik eyed me oddly.
"That... Ivy. Uh, um."
"...I look pretty freakish, huh?"
Temple lodging kept me indoors; used to Iris and Hanbyeol's bindings, but parading tied-up wasn't pretty. Daesik eyed the tight ropes confusedly, worried.
"You okay? No threats?"
"Yeah, well..."
My own doing. Taking hostages was best back then; paying the price now. I nagged Hanbyeol and Iris to untie, but no dice.
"And the weird tail..."
"No biggie. Protective artifact, they say."
"I see... Anyway, investigating the dungeon where our guild—criminals then—kidnapped you unequipped. Found collapsed at entrance."
"...No clothes? Staff or anything?"
"Yes. Checked twice. Hanbyeol too. Dragged to prison for slave market."
More mysteries. Thought Hanbyeol hit a trap, passed out. But from dungeon start? Sounded like naked ejection.
"...Guess we gotta go see."
I'd figured simple dungeon run: disarm traps, solve puzzles, cull mobs, done. Loot bonus. But unease nagged. Wanted out, but Hanbyeol'd go—me bailing looked suspicious.
"We'll split into two teams for the dungeon. Standby outside for rescues if it repeats; exploration team inside. Gae Saeng provides tanks and DPS—divide as you like."
"Eh? You're not going, Daesik?"
"Gotta lead raids, busy."
His face etched with fatigue. Made sense—game turned real business, micromanaging everything. Startup CEOs sleep less; same for him.
Pity, but offering help felt awkward. No confidence in ops, hated responsibility's weight.
"Got it."
"Be careful. Gear or consumables? Guild'll cover budget."
"We're fine. No money issues."
Iris cut off my thanks curtly. Daesik nodded indifferently, rose—tea untouched.
"You too, Daesik."
"Yes."
In game, we'd bantered via chat. His businesslike distance stung a bit.
Post-departure, three burly guys approached. Rough looks, but warm smiles—Daesik's men.
"How was the folks, sis-in-law?!"
"Wha, folks?"
"Temple's home for priests. Bro missed you tons!"
"Gonna kill Onyx someday."
Iris muttered chillingly behind. I laughed awkwardly.
"Haha. All prepped?"
"Yes. Jimmy's last. Tools packed, rations too. Sis, bondage fan? Saintess ahead of fashion!"
"Part of my training."
"Cool! Suits you!"
Embarrassing, but their innocent grins let me sigh relief, inspect them. No changes of clothes? Basic leather armor, melee weapons—adventurer vibe. Just ugly. All-melee party issue.
But splitting with us: one healer per squad. Not doomed.
"Classes?"
Spot on: three warriors, Jimmy assassin. Ours: mage, priest, two inquisitors.
Inquisitor was title; combat roles unknown. Asked them.
"Tank possible?"
"Me."
Hamill, arms crossed. Tank build.
Nodded. "Healer?"
"Both of us."
Iris's words twisted my gut. Self-heal tank, healing DPS. In game, multi-role meant penalties—jack-of-all mediocre. Solo fine, but party balance punished wrong skills in high-end.
PvP had gimmicks like spell-tanking mages, dual-greatsword warriors sans shield.
Reality different. Still, no need pairing overlap with me—pure healer, DPS-weak but support-specialized. Better me in other party.
"No. Saintess must take one of us."
Iris objected. Hanbyeol clung instantly.
"Me too, sis!"
My head throbbed.