Field Study (2)
He reached into the launcher and stimulated [Explosion] and [Repulsion]. The [Spiral] and [Acceleration] runes etched into the muzzle absorbed mana in the same way.
The gatekeeper's single eye flashed brightly for an instant. It had detected the movements of the enemy targeting it. It moved to charge at Allen, but...
Too late.
Thung!
A heavy yet light sound rang in his ears. The recoil from his upper body flowed down through his waist to his lower half, but the reinforced exoskeleton absorbed most of it.
And then the mana shot flew. The tip engraved with the [Penetration] rune bored into the gatekeeper's outer armor, and the [Explosion] in its body reacted a beat later.
Kwaang!
The outer armor shuddered, flames and smoke pouring from the pierced hole. Still, the gatekeeper's durability was impressive—it didn't stop moving.
The moment Allen tried to fire again, the gatekeeper's dangling right arm fell off. The explosive hammer it had gripped tightly dropped with it.
Kwaang!
The second explosion wasn't Allen's doing. By sheer luck, the impact had triggered the hammer that was gathering power, causing an additional blast.
With its right leg also ruptured, the gatekeeper's body tilted sharply. Its charge wasn't fully complete, so it couldn't even fire its eye beam.
Allen lowered the launcher and parted his lips slightly.
"Get it."
The panther, which had been watching until now, leaped forward. The gatekeeper, its balance destroyed, couldn't hold out and toppled forward.
Giiiing!
Only the loud grinding of drill fangs chewing through the outer armor at its neck filled the air.
"Good job."
Allen rubbed the panther's face as it brought back the gatekeeper's head. It stood there blankly with no reaction, being an automaton, but who cared when its performance was this good?
Allen loaded the gatekeeper's head onto the cart and approached the torso. He pulled out his staff and rolled the body around, inspecting the internals.
Penetration's solid, but the explosion's a bit lacking. Need to improve the launcher's aiming too.
Mixing circuit magic with runes sometimes led to unexpected results or duds, but for a first real-world test, this was excellent.
Allen had silenced the gatekeeper alone, with a single mana shot.
"Oh, right. You're here too."
And the panther, stoic as its owner.
As Allen rummaged through the gatekeeper's body, collecting only the lighter, valuable parts, he turned at the sound from behind.
"Ah, we missed it."
Other explorers arrived late. This wasn't a campsite where people avoided each other, but since Allen was alone, they just stood there dumbly.
"No spectating allowed."
Allen immediately aimed the mana shot launcher at them.
In the labyrinth, you never knew what might happen, so a strong response was key. Showing weakness risked being seen as prey.
The party glanced between the mana shot launcher and the gatekeeper, shook their heads, and vanished into the mist.
Allen packed the expensive parts and headed back to the layer 9 campsite. Being solo meant he needed a safe spot for any inspections.
He settled in a corner and began his usual research. A few explorers needing repairs peeked over, but with no business sign, they stayed away.
Not everyone did. As someone approached, the panther lying in front rose.
"Wait, it's me. Me. Don't you recognize me?"
Allen looked up at the familiar voice. A blond man with a relaxed expression—Carlson—stood before him.
"Long time no see."
"Still so curt. I almost didn't recognize you with that automaton eyeing me and the mask."
"How'd you know, then?"
"Your eyes. That emotionless gaze is the same as ever. How long's it been since we parted? A little over two months?"
"About that."
Allen sat the panther beside him, and only then did Carlson approach closer. He was equipped with his usual force field shield and shotgun.
"This one's got a sturdy look. And you've got some color in your face now."
"A lot's happened."
"Don't hold out on me—tell me."
Unable to resist Carlson's chattiness, Allen shared a bit. Like how he'd built the panther himself, or how his originally frail body had improved lately.
"So you came down here alone? Wait..."
Carlson trailed off, his eyes quickly scanning Allen's hands and the cart.
"Gatekeeper parts, right? We were whimpering together on layer 6 back then. Were me and Aung your shackles or something?"
"..."
"Not even denying it—harsh."
Carlson sounded hurt but grinned. It showed he'd grown up in a harmonious, affluent family. He accepted himself, so he knew how to accept others too.
After catching up, Allen spoke.
"What brings you here, Carlson? Aren't you busy with university?"
"That's why I'm here. The labyrinth studies department I attend doesn't just sit and take trophies from explorers. There's a culture of direct experience if you want to learn."
Allen nodded. The difference between seeing and experiencing was huge, for sure.
Carlson turned and pointed to a clustered group.
"The ones looking a bit green? Labyrinth studies students."
"The well-armed, intimidating ones must be escorts."
"Right. And that over there's Professor Oros."
Professor Oros was a massive orc. Allen initially mistook him for an escort, not a professor.
Carlson chuckled, as if reading his thoughts.
"I thought the same at first. During the first class, I was reading the textbook when these thumping sounds came from the front. I looked up, and there was this giant..."
"Student Carlson. What are you two chatting about so animatedly?"
A deep voice rumbled.
Carlson's shoulders jerked in surprise.
"Haha... Just catching up with an acquaintance... Ah, his name's Allen, and he's a magitech engineer."
"Oh..."
Oros's eyes took in Allen's gear and the panther lying nearby at once. He nodded faintly.
"A rare talent. Nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
"A magitech engineer traveling solo? That's unusual."
Allen felt the same. Not a racist, but every orc he'd seen so far had been rough or crude in manner.
Yet here was an orc with intellect in his eyes—a professor, no less. The world was vast and full of wonders.
Even in old age, Professor Oros's muscles bulged. He showed no sign of leaving, even fetching a folding chair to sit before Allen and peppering him with questions out of curiosity.
Carlson, rolling his eyes, interjected.
"Professor, it's dinnertime."
"Ah, so it is. Thanks for the heads-up."
Answering Oros's questions had eaten up time until 7 PM. The orc professor naturally joined them for dinner without leaving.
"A bit of effort beats just boiling stuff."
As he spoke, a hard energy biscuit crumbled in Oros's hand. He pulverized the tooth-breaking solid food with his fingers alone.
Do the students he brought act so polite out of respect for the professor, or instinctual intimidation?
Allen pondered the chunkless soup and the university students' dynamics as he warmed his body.
The soup tasted great anyway. Maybe the broth soaked into the finely crumbled biscuit, or Oros's personal touch did the trick.
As Allen savored the soup, Carlson's lips moved busily.
"...And that's how we met again today."
"Quite the connection. And soloing a gatekeeper to boot."
Allen hadn't mentioned it, but Carlson spilled the gatekeeper kill. Oros's gaze, fixed on Carlson, shifted freely and examined the panther.
"Modified it yourself?"
"Yes."
Despite the curt reply, Oros smoothly moved on.
"An original automaton. The magitech devices from our department's students lack daring—this one's different. And high-performing, I hear?"
Who disliked praise? Allen's face stayed neutral, but his shoulders lifted slightly.
Oros, who'd asked lightly, threw a sharp one.
"But to squeeze out that performance, there must be equivalent costs. So that's why you're growing so fast, Allen the explorer."
"..."
Allen shut his mouth; Carlson pretended disinterest but perked his ears.
"Prioritizing research and learning over profits, right? Dive as deep as your skills allow, invest all expedition earnings into magitech. Possible because magitech's your hobby. Am I close?"
Allen nodded. True, his mana excess syndrome meant no power supply issues, but if he was convincing himself without prompting, why correct him?
Hobby fit too. When you enjoyed your work, pulling all-nighters felt energizing.
Oros, having cleaned his bowl, washed up in the corner and returned.
"Planning to head back soon?"
"Was gonna stay around layers 9-10 for two days, then go up."
"How about adjusting your schedule to join us? I'd like to hire you at standard magitech engineer rates."
Allen paused, then asked.
"How deep are you planning?"
"13th layer per the syllabus."
Allen thought it over. He'd turned back at 13 before, without time to properly study the caves due to rushed movement.
As if reading him, Oros added.
"With you joining, I'd push to 14. Plus, give those frog-in-the-well students obsessed with city uni being the best a shock."
Allen eyed the professor, then agreed. Since he'd come this far, he wanted to test the mana shot against underground dwellers, and see how a university professor explored and researched the labyrinth.
Oros stood, saying he'd inform the others. Carlson followed.
"Student Carlson. Hasn't enough time passed to mull over that topic I mentioned?"
"Professor, grad school's tricky with family opposition..."
"So your positive response was a lie? Aren't you an adult, Carlson? Should your pursuit of learning be swayed by others?"
Allen overheard their talk while packing.
Grad school? Isn't more learning good?
*
The city university group numbered fifteen students, five escorts, plus Allen—twenty-one total—descending into the caves.
"Only fourteen students per department? I heard it's fluid, but fewer than expected."
"You've got zero interest in uni, huh? Nah, field studies are optional, so some skip, others follow different profs. Too many gets messy."
"Crowded's distracting, and research is best quiet anyway."
Carlson nodded at Allen's words.
Carlson stood between Allen and the students, blocking lines of sight with his body.
The students eyed the sudden magitech engineer coldly. No proven skill or veteran vibe, just their peer age—untrustworthy.
But with the professor's hire, no one complained openly.
Learned folk think differently.
Allen admired their restraint. Explorers would've stepped up demanding proof the moment doubt hit.
Not that it was bad. In the labyrinth, lives depended on each other—who'd team with an amateur?
So Allen wasn't judging right or wrong, just appreciating their elegant approach.
Carlson gauged the students' mood, then slyly asked Allen's age.
"How old? I'm 20, third year."
"Eighteen."
"Knew you looked young, but damn. You get me? Not dissing your age—impressed by the skill."
"No big deal."