Overflow in the Caves (3)
“I don't know if that's true, but I can tell your tastes are awful.”
“You're weirdly calm for someone saying that. You've got experience, don't you?”
The “experience” Kiki referred to was, of course, murder.
Allen gave him an impassive look, and Kiki frantically waved his hands.
“I'm not trying to lecture you. In the Goblin Autonomous District, guys without murder experience are the rare ones. I thought you were some pure saint at first, but now that your vibe's totally changed, it's kinda scary. Anyway, that guy's in deep shit.”
At the end of Kiki's gaze stood Francois, sharply rebuking one of the team members.
“What the hell were you thinking back there?”
“I don't know, sir.”
“You don't know? Does labyrinth exploration look like a joke to you? If I die, my comrades die too. You gotta stand there with that in your head!”
“...”
“If you're planning to wander the maze your whole life, I don't give a damn. But if you aim deeper, you need to rip out that weak-ass mentality of yours.”
Francois scooped up some blood on his finger and thrust it right in front of the explorer's eyes.
“Don't look away. If shit hits the fan bad enough, there might come a time you gotta drink this blood. Before the corpse vanishes.”
Once an explorer vanished from the surroundings, the labyrinth absorbed any remaining matter after 30 minutes to an hour. That was why it stayed pristine despite explorers traipsing in and out nonstop.
Allen focused more on the bit about drinking blood. From Francois's vibe, he clearly had experience.
After one round of combat, Group 6 took another break. Unlike the maze, where they'd pitched camp at layer junctions, the caves had natural caverns midway through.
While Allen analyzed the soul stone from a cave-emerging automaton, Kiki spoke up.
“You know how to handle star letters? Uh... I'm not interrupting, am I?”
“No.”
Allen gave a curt reply and fiddled with the star letters. Kiki watched in awe as the stars shifted, vanished, and reformed.
“I can only manage rune letters. Damn, you're good.”
“I've heard there are plenty of magitechwear for brain expansion tied to star letters.”
“Obviously. But if you'd slotted in extra magitechwear, your head would've ballooned to twice the size by now. What kinda doll are you, looking like that?”
Kiki wasn't joking—he meant it. Brain-expansion magitechwear came in all varieties, but they all boiled down to one thing: brain augmentation.
The brain was the core. No matter how high-spec the magitechwear, if the brain couldn't handle the load, it was worthless.
And if the magitechwear took center stage over the brain? Was it still human... or should you call it a golem?
Allen's left eye stayed locked on the star letters while his right flicked a glance at Kiki.
He still flinched whenever Kiki popped into view mid-focus. The guy looked enough like a goblin automaton to spook.
Sensing the mood turn heavy, Allen switched topics.
“If overheating's the problem, maybe try going without clothes...”
“What the hell kinda talk is that? Clothes are made to be worn. It's tragic getting shot over a misunderstanding.”
“Been there?”
“Once in the maze. No clue if it was genuine mix-up or they tried robbing me but bailed, claiming 'misunderstanding' once they saw I wasn't easy pickings.”
As he fine-tuned the star letters, another group filed into the cavern. The Hextech labyrinth expedition team.
Francois—who'd had his arms crossed from the jump, like he knew they were coming—quietly conferred with their leader.
To anyone else, it looked like path coordination to avoid overlap. But not to Allen.
Cave (3)
One of the labyrinth's fun quirks was that every descent brought fresh experiences. Even in the entry maze, Allen had stumbled on oddities like the knight or the black gatekeeper.
Plus, you learned new facts—like how surprisingly tough the human body was, not shattering easily.
After crossing paths with the Hextech team, Francois pushed downward aggressively. He split them into two groups of five for rotational combat drills.
If the enemy numbers looked dicey, Francois culled them to manageable size. If lives hung in the balance, he stepped in. No real risk of dying, at least.
Allen's current spot was an open clearing on underground layer 13. Group 6's members groaned on corpse-like faces.
“Feels like blood's leaking outta my whole body. Gonna die like this.”
Kiki lacked even the strength to climb onto the cart—he just flopped on the clearing's floor. Rough stone or not, he seemed content with the act of lying down.
“No bleeding, but lubricant is seeping from your elbow joint.”
“What? Fix it...”
Allen shook his head, and Kiki whined like a rain-soaked pup.
“You seriously charging me repair fees between buddies? I even made you special soup to pep you up.”
“That wasn't soup—it was just mishmash porridge. The leak's from internal wear; it'll keep dripping till replacement. Not a big deal—should hold till we surface.”
“If you say so, I'll trust it.”
Kiki smooshed his face into the floor. Too exhausted to even lift his neck.
Yet his artificial eyes kept monitoring Allen. Despite the fatigue, fiddling with that soul stone's star letters... fielding team repair requests...
At first glance, Allen had seemed like some rich kid descending via cash and modded automatons. Clearly not.
“My mana sword's output went haywire all sudden. Any idea why?”
“One sec... ...Ever struck the handle?”
“How'd you know?”
“Mana pack and circuits are clustered there—it's dented. I can straighten it; fixable right here.”
Spotting and solving issues in seconds, as always. Even that sprawled panther was pure Allen handiwork.
The panther impressed more with combat smarts than raw power. Typical automatons had simple star-letter structures, charging headlong on metal-body faith.
Allen's panther, though? Armored top-to-bottom in [Reinforce] and [Harden] runes, yet it dodged like a real beast—flexible, stealthy ambushes.
The count of underground dwellers skewered through carotid and neck vertebrae by those vicious drill fangs had long topped ten.
Kiki claimed discreet observation, but whether the panther noticed his gaze or pure chance—their eyes met via its visual camera.
Feeling a chill crawl up his nape, Kiki crawled across the floor to Allen's side. Panther out of sight, tension eased.
“What're you doing?”
“Stove here's nice and toasty.”
“The stove's off.”
“...”
Kiki silently reached for the rotary switch. The stove's rune letters: [Heat Generation]. Crank harder, more mana fed in—temperature scaled up proportionally.
Balmy warmth rolled in; even the cold stone felt like a proper bed. Drift off to sweet dreams like this...
“Get up.”
Allen shook Kiki.
“Whyyy... Leave me be, please. Just five minutes...”
Allen ignored the griping, arm unrelenting. His eyes fixed on one entrance passage to the clearing. More precisely, the pitch-black void Francois stared into unblinkingly.
She's not doing that for no reason.
Francois—till now sitting still, eyes shut—wouldn't scrutinize a passage out of boredom.
Allen's hunch proved right. Moments later, a dragging sound echoed from the dark. Hard boot heels scraping stone.
At last, five haggard explorers emerged from the black fog. Battle scars marred their gear—heavy on the backs.
“Halt.”
Francois's gravelly voice rumbled like a beast's growl. Even Allen tensed up momentarily; no need to spell out the targets' state.
Lips frozen, they trembled uncontrollably. Francois rose fully and strode toward them.
“We claimed this clearing. What's your reason for approaching anyway?”
“I-I'm a participant in this expedition too.”
“...”
“I remember your face from the assembly point... Ah, I'm from Group 15.”
Francois kept eyes locked on them while asking the deputies,
“Group 15's under Gamal, right?”
“Yes. They entered later than us, but time-wise, same layer's no surprise.”
“Faces confirmed. Matches Group 15 participants.”
A deputy showed Francois the terminal screen. He scrutinized it against the injured, then nodded.
“Good. You—gather our team in one spot. You—grab recovery potions from the first-aid kit and treat 'em.”
Orders done, Francois herded the injured to a clearing corner. Soundproofed? Their lips moved nonstop, but no audio leaked.
Allen followed the deputy's instructions but kept stealing glances.
The other group's abrupt arrival—injured no less—shocked the drowsiness right out of his teammates. They peppered the deputy with questions.
“What the hell happened?”
“Leader's investigating, so I can't say jack. Won't take long—hang tight.”
“Got it.”
Straight talk. No underling acting out with the superior right there unscathed.
As the team buzzed, Allen's left eye zoomed in on Francois and the injured.
Couldn't hear voices, but lip-reading gave rough words.
'Injuries, underground dwellers, fortress, reinforcements...'
Not perfectly accurate, but he caught a few.
Found a fortress, but enemy reinforcements swarmed—got scattered?
The caves held plenty of rest clearings like this one. Some fortified by underground dwellers into strongholds.
“Strongholds,” but think oversized checkpoints or small defense outposts—not the massive labyrinth-door guardians.
This very clearing had likely served as one once. Underground dwellers were smart enough to wield explorers' magitech—no shock. Better to see them as native subterranean folk.
Just as his surprise-heightened brain started craving rest again, Francois returned from the huddle.
“Looks like another group's in trouble—got scattered. We head that way.”
“Just us?”
“Other groups nearby. We'll link up.”
The least-wrecked injured walked point with Francois; the mobility-impaired rode carts. Allen's panther-pulled cart included.
A dwarf with his head wrapped turban-style offered thanks. Injury? Bandage squeeze? He stuttered either way.
“Th-thanks.”
“Don't mention it. I'm Allen.”
“Me? I'm... ugh!”
The dwarf suddenly clutched his head.
“C-can't... remember...”
“This old man's totally gone off the deep end.”
“...”
“Hey, don't glare like that. My bad, slip of the tongue.”
Allen hadn't glared—just his usual blank stare. Kiki, nursing inner guilt, jumped to conclusions.
Kiki set down his spanner from the cart, grabbed the dwarf's shoulder, and spun him around.
“See the back of his head?”
“Injured there—magitechwear's busted too.”
“Brain expansion links magitechwear straight to the brain. Shock must've hit that too. Amnesia-like, but swap the magitechwear and he'll recover.”
Meaning: can't fix in the labyrinth. Even if possible, conditions too harsh—secondary infection risk.
The dwarf had forgotten his name but could chat otherwise.
“S-suddenly they showed up. Too many—couldn't hold.”
“Overflow?”
“Aye, that be it. Wasn't our backup, methinks.”
The dwarf nodded at Kiki's question.
An overflow was when labyrinth monsters suddenly surged in numbers. Leave 'em be, they'd scatter quick—but if explorers were right there