Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: 6th Floor. Time for Settlement
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"Nice work out there."
The water in the sewer, completely evaporated by the aftermath of the Flame Storm, began filling up again to ankle level.
Amid the muggy steam driving up the discomfort, Albert patted my shoulder.
"I didn't even want to put on that kind of show... How many died?"
"Three. Two got swept away by the water, and one got smashed by its tail."
One was a charred lump with bones completely crushed, the other reduced to chunks of flesh after slamming into the wall with brutal force.
I averted my eyes from those grotesque traces.
He hadn't even dreamed of saving every criminal—let alone expecting everyone to survive—but seeing the grim results still made my skin crawl.
The survivors were Albert and Dave. Plus one criminal with a severed left arm and two with all limbs intact.
A group of twenty at the end of the 4th floor had dwindled to just five by the 5th. It hit home again how vicious this dungeon truly was.
If luck hadn't been on my side, I could've ended up as one of those sprawled-out corpses.
The thought sent goosebumps prickling up my arms.
"Without you, even this many wouldn't have made it. If this were a battlefield, you'd be hailed as a war hero for that performance."
"Quit gilding the lily—it's embarrassing. Time to go our separate ways."
Albert's offer to team up lasted only until they escaped this underground sewer.
With all the obstacles blocking their exit cleared, no need to see this bearded old man's mug again.
"Fair enough."
He nodded as if agreeing, but his feet stayed planted like he had no intention of leaving.
With their leader Albert stubbornly standing there, the now-free criminals had no choice but to loiter awkwardly.
I shot him a weary look.
"You're no pretty girl—what's the point in staring at your mug any longer? Get going."
"I figured as much. Just at a crossroads, pondering my choices."
"Fine. Ponder away. I'm out."
I'd used both scrolls from the Wanderer fight and all my Healing Potions. The armor I wore was too damaged to equip anymore.
All high-performance items, plus the new skills and memories—none immediately useful.攻略 ahead would be tough.
But what could I do? Survival came first before whining about hardship.
"The bravery and feats you've shown these past couple days invigorated my jaded soul, dulled by long years of peace."
The voice from behind—I reached for the portal rippling in the air like the monster's maw.
"I'll take my leave first."
Then Albert swiftly brushed past me and leaped into the portal.
"If we both survive, let's meet again someday!"
"...What?"
His deathly grim face split into a gleeful grin right before diving in.
Staring at the portal where Albert vanished, I scratched my head.
"He's not some bored retiree opening a Korean buffet to kill time..."
I muttered, glancing back. The remaining criminals were slinking along the sewer walls, slipping past the portal one by one.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A space of pure white.
A blindingly white expanse, impossible to gauge—did it have an end, or stretch infinitely? A monotonous plain.
And unnaturally, right in the center, sat a sofa and an old-fashioned TV.
"What the hell."
I'd just stepped through the portal. Vision flooded white, and now here I stood.
Forced into what sure didn't look like the 6th floor, I patted myself down, checking for issues.
Limbs. Good—still attached where they should be.
Inventory bag. Everything neatly packed, nothing missing.
My face. Century's greatest stud, GOAT.
"Status."
Works fine.
"Map."
Nothing.
I pondered the difference, but Dive Dungeon (D.D.) had no uncharted zones like some online game.
Just the relentless hell from floors 1 to 30.
No point overthinking—I headed straight for the only clues: the TV and sofa.
About 10 meters in, the sofa was close enough to touch. Someone lounged there in a slouch that'd herniate your discs after three hours, staring at the TV hissing static noise.
"It's time for settlement."
The someone gazed at the noise-ridden screen, murmuring hmm and ooh in admiration.
Even clapping—whatever he saw had him thrilled. Meanwhile, I sized him up.
"Splendid. Utterly splendid."
For a man, unusually long golden blond hair. Droopy, weary eyes. Clothes in a style I'd never seen.
A total stranger, yet weirdly familiar, like we'd met before.
"Cleaned out the sewer monsters spotless, completed the blank map, felled all three sub-bosses, saved those fated to vanish without trace, recruited past heroes, and granted rest to my dear child. How could I not have high expectations?"
His words recounted my sewer exploits.
Watching his past through what looked like noise to me?
Ludicrous even to my own ears—but then, yanking a guy mid-gallery scroll-fest into a game dungeon without a word? Logical?
The one enabling such nonsense—I voiced the name that popped into my head.
"You're 112.311?"
"Not as surprised as I'd thought."
Confirmation, basically.
This drifter—audacious enough to dump me here—rose languidly from the sofa.
"Not many could've pulled this off, so I took a shot. Am I not cool-headed and intellectual?"
I cracked my knuckles, stretching my stiff body.
He perched on the sofa armrest without rising fully, arms crossed, smirking slyly.
Compressing muscles, twisting core, launching fist.
The body's perfect trio in harmony—a beautiful straight punch arcing toward his jaw.
"Such a perfect clear deserves prai—guh!"
💥 CRITICAL HIT! 💥 CRUNCH
Jaw shattered. Teeth flying. Nose pulverized.
His jaw whipped around as white teeth spewed into the air. Crushed nasal cartilage mangled grotesquely, blood bursting from nose and mouth.
Teeth and blood droplets splattered, adding color to the pristine white floor.
The crunch of bone and cartilage under my fist confirmed a solid hit.
"Guh-weeeek!"
A pig-slaughter squeal as he tumbled behind the sofa with a crash. I shook my stinging hand, grinning.
"Ahh~ Feels good!"
Nothing beat a sucker punch for swift, effective communication.
"Sniff! I cwoulda dodged ifth you hadn't ambushed me..."
Crunch.
He scooped up his fallen teeth, jamming them roughly back into his gums, whining pitifully. Tempted to give him another, but I held off.
If he was truly the Dungeon Gallery Pack's IP 112.311, I needed answers first.
Crack.
Grabbing his twisted nose and rotating it snapped it back into place.
Grotesque fix. If he could do that, why not just regenerate?
"Ah... Haven't taken a hit like that in ages..."
"Don't care if you get beat up elsewhere. Just explain why you dragged me to that hellhole."
He gestured lazily, summoning an identical sofa from thin air.
Reluctant at the obvious invitation, I sat anyway. After two weeks, civilization's comfort nearly melted me.
Stealing this away—guy had no heart.
"Sniff... Can't spill too much yet. One important question?"
"What now..."
"The game you were playing, Dive Dungeon? It's a real world. My homeland, too. More precisely, a copy modeled after my world."
112.311 gazed into space with wistful eyes.
As if his longing lay there. To me, he just looked like a muttering lunatic on the verge.
"Long story short: my world perished. Had perished. Because I didn't lock in that future."
What the hell did that mean?
His fragmented, evasive facts made it hard to grasp.
All I got was the world was doomed, and he was doing something to stop it.
"So you summoned us? To save your wrecked world?"
"Embarrassing, but yeah."
I sighed deeply, head throbbing.
"Can't explain clearly for once? Too cryptic."
"No choice. Delaying the future's fix imposes heavy restrictions."
Convenient excuse. Worse, all I could do was sigh like my luck was fleeing.
Maybe it already had—no luck, and I wouldn't be here.
"Why not grab a spec-ops guy instead of a no-life gamer like me with 3,000 hours wasted? Better odds for your world-saving."
Sure, my base fitness was decent, but embarrassing next to pros.
He nodded like he got it.
"I see your point, but a slight head start doesn't change the plan much. How'd my creation perform?"
"Creation...? What're you on about..."
"Feel lighter than usual? Wounds heal fast?"
I glared suspiciously; he smirked, so I planted another straight into his jaw.
Crash—he flipped spectacularly behind the sofa, staggering up while wiping blood with his sleeve.
"Haha... Anyway, basic physical gaps are trivial. Can't just grab anyone, either."
"Tch."
True, this freakish recovery kept me alive so far.
Even athletes or spec-ops would've died without it.
"Anyway... Reward for clearing the altered sewer: a week back in your original world. And one question before I send you—what ya got?"
"Pass."
I pondered. One question only.
Kidnapping folks for cheap labor with stingy rewards pissed me off, but gamers optimize queries.
Ask if clearing sends me home? Nah, usually does.
Something crucial but uncertain.
Nothing sprang to mind. Like naming a character at creation.
"Ah."
Got it.
"Why's my skill Onahole Creation? Dive Dungeon had zero erotica, not even subtle."
Might think of more, but this topped my curiosities.
Why did a deranged skill like that exist?
If the world was real, some psycho made it. Terrifying thought.
"Hmm..."
He leaned back, pondering with drawn-out hums.
"Dunno."
"What?"
"You used it well, right? Mission accomplished?"
Shrugging like it was no biggie, he snapped his fingers. A floating sensation enveloped me.
"Bye~"
"You fuck! Why this one?! Answer me!!! Kyaaaaack!!! Don't touch there! Where're you touching?!"
"High hopes for you this time. See ya, Shin Yu-hyun."
"Hey! Hey!"
Reaching for his cheeky waving hand, blinded by flashing light—next, I opened my eyes in my dusty room.
"..."
Back home.
Wearing the chain armor half-chewed by the alligator.