Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: 3rd Floor. Suspicious Merchant
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Sizzle... sizzle...
Dave tore into the roasted meat the moment his restraints came off, filling the room with a savory aroma as he devoured it with greedy abandon.
Judging by the way he ate, it didn't seem like he'd been lying about starving for so long.
He even sucked the grease off his fingers, unwilling to let a single drop go to waste. It didn't take him long to polish off the entire piece.
While he ate, I mulled over what he'd told me.
A city called Whitechamber, a name that hadn't appeared in any of the Dive Dungeon text.
A knight who gathered up independent criminals and led them to conquer the sewers.
Dave's claim that he'd gone back up through layers he'd already descended.
'Couldn't kill him, so I let him live... and it turns out there's more to gain from that than I thought.'
If he hadn't ambushed me, I might have kept descending blindly, gotten killed by someone without even putting up a fight.
'Whitechamber could just be background lore they set up during development... but what the hell is this knight? Even if he used the criminals as disposable pawns, pushing through to the fourth floor with a group means he's no ordinary guy.'
This dungeon wasn't something you could brute-force just by being strong.
Managing resources, handling traps, quick improvisation in the moment—all crucial. Yet this knight had led twenty people, kept their hunger and thirst in check, and reached the end of the fourth floor.
He'd gotten stopped by the Wanderer, but if not for that, he might have taken down the Sewer King too. Unlike the small, hard-to-overwhelm Wanderer, the Sewer King was a big target with plenty of weak spots.
'Meeting him could be dangerous.'
He seemed desperate to escape the sewers by rallying the criminals, but who knew if he had other plans.
'No point dwelling on it. Can't tell if he died to the Wanderer or got away.'
Personally, I figured someone that capable had either killed it or slipped away somehow.
Anyway, was a knight-criminal's spec superior to a regular criminal's?
With all these realistic details added, it was likely the system had been tweaked to reflect that.
Like the abnormally reinforced traps I'd already encountered.
"Anything else you know about that knight?"
"He was the leader who commanded the others, that's true. But he didn't share much about himself. All I know is he was strong enough to actually get us out of this cursed sewer, so we followed."
Unfortunately, no more info on the knight.
"Just in case... mind if I have one more? I know it's shameless."
"...Fine."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Truly grateful. I'll never forget this kindness."
The next morning—or what felt like it.
After a slightly less comfortable rest than usual, I stepped out of the room and parted ways with Dave.
I'd offered for him to tag along, but when I said I wasn't gutsy enough to travel with someone who'd stabbed me in the back, he backed off with his tail between his legs.
Instead, he perked up when I mentioned heading back to the knight if he was waiting there, then vanished toward the stairs to the fourth floor.
He'd cleaned out most of my spare tasty meat, but I still had plenty of emergency rations left, so no big loss.
Besides, the info he'd given me was gold. Worth every bit.
"Better speed through the third floor. Last thing I need is him dead before I get there."
As I collected dew from nearby foliage to refill my canteen, I mapped out the day's plan.
Squish... squelch.
Watching the slime inch forward, its soft body jiggling along, it was surprisingly cute.
That glossy, transparent, springy surface practically begged to be poked.
In the end, here I was, walking the slime I'd sworn not to take out again.
'So damn boring...'
Trudging endless similar-looking dungeon corridors all day was mentally exhausting.
And this sewer was a polluted hellhole unfit for human life.
With stress piling up daily, summoning the slime was my way of doing something about it.
>If Fuel was sufficient, it could tag along for about ten minutes outside of combat—like walking a pet for a mood boost. Not a bad diversion.
'Problem is, I'd have to refill it with semen every ten minutes if I kept it out.'
Not something I'd do mid-exploration, of course. Just a quick ten-minute pick-me-up.
Getting off to the slime and dying while jerking it in these enemy-infested corridors? Way too pathetic.
Squelch.
"What? Why?"
I was walking with the slime at my side, ready for any random enemies, when it started smacking my leg like it wanted attention.
Looking down, it was stretching its surface toward one direction, pointing that way.
Wondering what was up, I glanced over—and spotted a dark silhouette in the distance, flanked by a hulking shape.
"Huh."
A mask etched with abstract wing-like patterns.
A green hood cloaking its body, mismatched with an enormous backpack.
Beside it, a headless beast of massive build hauling a wooden cart.
The suspicious merchant had finally shown up, after I'd priced it out of appearing.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Welcome, customer. I've been waiting, top items at the ready for your needs."
'What... it's a kid.'
Up close, that suspiciously masked figure spoke in a modulated voice I'd heard a hundred times before—the classic shady merchant opener.
The merchant embodied suspicion itself.
'Comes up to my chest, huh?'
Obsessively hiding its identity, yet barely 150cm tall. A low kick might snap its legs.
"No money? No worries. For you, I accept—"
"The desires of the lives you've taken."
"Yeah... not many humans know that. No need for explanations, then."
The GOLD in the status window wasn't real currency.
If killing rats and spiders dropped coins, everyone would call this sewer—exile's execution ground—a gold mine.
Even if it were real gold, where would you carry it? Bags already burst with essential items.
D.D described GOLD as the life force of survival instinct, crystallized as wealth.
And what this one meant by "desire" was souls.
"Go on, no need to hold back. I've got things you can't find anywhere ordinary. Sure to intrigue."
The androgynous, modulated voice dripped with annoyance, leaving me stunned.
Still, it dutifully opened the cart's stall, revealing the wares.
'Looked fine in pixel art, but why haul a cart and a huge pack?'
Just weird.
"Herbs and seeds by type... Strength potion might be worth grabbing..."
The stall overflowed with rare drops unlikely to be looted off the floor.
Higher-tier weapons, armor, even a few scrolls.
Anyone in a dungeon would empty their pockets for this chance.
And atop the pile, books.
Prices below them? One zero more than the rest—pricey enough to hesitate.
"Selling grimoires, too."
"Not always in stock, but prime items. Use one, and even an idiot becomes a master in that field."
Grimoires, tagged as such.
Core build items: learn the recorded technique upon use.
'Grimoires... Warrior's Tear, Infection, Battle Command?'
Warrior's Tear: evasion buff when HP halves.
Even pure melee with zero Agility got reliable dodge insurance from it—not stable, but noticeable survival boost.
Infection next.
Tricky to use: transfer your disease debuff to the target, amplified.
Endless applications; fans snatch it on sight.
Finally, Battle Command.
"Gotta sell a kidney for this. Even if I'm homeless after."
I knew better than to buy too much from shady merchants, but I snatched the Battle Command grimoire without a second thought.
It boosted my summons' damage dealt and taken by Charm percentage—skyrocketing animal farm builds. Perfect for me.
"Battle Command grimoire: 1,400 GOLD. No credit, no haggling."
It'd leave me broke, but doable.
I nodded agreement and tucked it away.
"Now, hand. And don't resist."
I extended my hand as told. The gloved merchant grasped it.
Then lifted the mask slightly, revealing a mouth—
*Slurp*—
A soft, mysterious suction on my palm, accompanied by the sound. Something fundamental—soul-like—drained from me relentlessly.
Not stamina, energy, or vitality, but something deeper.
A forbidden thrill mixed with intense pleasure, scorching my thoughts.
"Grrrrraaah...! Fuck, that hits!"
The suspicious merchant's true nature: a dream demon. Succubus, commonly called.
An NPC trading items for players' hoarded souls, delivered to its master.
Didn't expect it to be such a tiny squirt, though.