Direwolf Ambush and Breaker Base
Results appeared as a hologram. A blue three-dimensional minimap floated up around the detector, with red dots marked in various spots.
“Estimated direwolves! Twenty of them! Two minutes until arrival!”
Since the combat targets weren't human, he shouted the discovered information loudly. The others followed suit with booming voices.
Normal wild animals were naturally wary of humans on sight and would scramble to flee from a large group rushing in.
But the labyrinth's beasts bore the creators' influence, turning aggressively hostile the instant they detected explorers. Not even a mother bear protecting her cubs or a tiger whose territory was invaded would be that ferocious.
The snap of a branch on the ground revealed how large and heavy the approaching monster was.
Bigger than a leopard, probably.
A real leopard, properly clad in its hide.
Soon, the bushes parted to either side as a pack of gray-furred wolves emerged. As Allen had predicted, they were enormous, their body lengths nearing two meters.
Some even kicked off surrounding trees and leaped upward in un-wolf-like fashion. Two of them targeted Allen that way.
Animals hunt the frailest first, huh. Do I look that easy a mark? There's a dwarf here, so height's not it—my relatively small build?
Stray thoughts were just that. Allen's mind was mostly locked on the direwolves gunning for him.
“Left!”
Shiba's voice pierced straight to his eardrum. Shiba, springing off Taylor's shoulder, rocketed forward like a missile.
He deftly evaded the fangs-glinting maw even midair, then slammed a dropkick into its torso. Outmatched in power, the direwolf crashed into a tree—and unluckily got part of its body impaled on a sharp branch, reduced to a punching bag.
One wolf remained. Before Allen's mechanical arm could even twitch, the leopard that had been crouching silently in front shot straight up.
Thanks to [Stealth], the direwolf spotted the leopard too late. The cost was fatal. The leopard clamped down under its nape, fangs piercing the hide in one go.
The leopard's artificial muscles contracted fiercely, spinning its body 180 degrees. It crashed down, trampling the direwolf.
Crack!
The leopard didn't let go of its bitten prey, transmitting the full impact to the neck vertebrae. A long tongue lolled out, seeking escape. What could it do? Tongue and wolf were bound by fate.
At Taylor's feet lay a headless torso. Allen's gaze tracked the tumbling head.
The supply team fought well. They'd handle it solo if their skills allowed, team up if not.
In the labyrinth, where a split-second mistake could end your life, knowing one's place was vital. The ability to save yourself in a crisis wasn't reckless bravado—it was cold, hard judgment.
Humans might struggle to stay objective due to pride, but not a single Breaker employee showed it.
“Like...”
“Gears in a machine?”
“Yes.”
“That's the terror of an organization. Why no lone wolf beats the pack. Exceptions like Jake, the Collector, the Tailor—but they're not human, so let's leave 'em out.”
The supply team, having wiped out the direwolf pack without a single injury, immediately began dismantling the corpses. In the primordial forest layers, every beast carried a mana stone. They were sizable and high-purity enough for a good price.
“With beasts swarming in packs from the start, gathering mana stones for the compass should be straightforward.”
“If you can handle 'em. Plenty've turned into stinking compost from showing off. Numbers climbing real-time even now. By this point, we should've collected enough for the gate to the 22nd layer.”
As Taylor predicted, the supply team's route veered sharply perpendicular from their prior path.
After trekking awhile, they encountered a moving door. Passing through took them to the 22nd layer. There, they hunted beasts, gathered mana stones, and activated the compass.
This time, near the door to the 23rd layer, they ran into explorers from another corporation. Their gear was plastered top to bottom with Chilseong logos—you could guess their affiliation blindfolded.
“They seem on decent terms.”
“Bad blood outside, but gotta play nice here. Unless you're itching for a deathmatch.”
“Hey, that guy's belt isn't Chilseong—it's Hextech made.”
“The mark's the Big Dipper, not a hexagon.”
“Rebranding's easy. Heard Chilseong cut costs on belts recently—probably that.”
The lead explorer must've overheard Allen and Taylor, as he scanned their formation once. One explorer slyly tugged his bag to cover his waist.
The two groups reached the 23rd layer and scouted the terrain before splitting opposite ways. Taking the towering peak as reference, Breaker headed right, Chilseong left.
“Chilseong's got a base like Breaker's. From here, Breaker Base should pop into view soon.”
As Taylor chattered, the dense trees thinned, giving way to open plains. Far off stood Breaker Base, ringed by walls.
Allen's left eye functioned like a telescope.
“I imagined a modest outpost for a labyrinth base, but it's bigger than expected.”
Hesco barriers encircled it—massive sandbags wire-wrapped around poles. Concrete structures loomed beyond.
“Lots of folks bunking here. Call the sandbag sacks the outer wall, concrete barriers the inner.”
The inner was for Breaker staff; the outer open to general explorers. Other corps had charged steep base fees at first, but Breaker's free access forced them to follow suit.
“They just charge elsewhere instead.”
“Sharp kid. Easier to swallow as 'settlement fees' than straight entry tolls—less pushback. Still cheaper than before.”
Base in sight, Shiba pulled out his hip flask. Taylor sidled up like a honeybee to nectar.
“Breaker spreads a lot of positive influence. But Brother Taylor...”
“What about me?”
“You always slander me on sight.”
“Just messing. Sure, Breaker's got shady corners like any corp, but they give back to society plenty.”
“The Mother Nun who raised me tried exploring in her youth—had fond memories of Breaker. Might've even met you, Brother Taylor.”
“Who knows. Met too many folks back then; memories fuzzy now...”
Breaker was an odd corporation all around. Good luck finding another megacorp praised more than it's cursed.
True to Chairman Jake Marshall's inauguration speech, Breaker poured everything into breaching the labyrinth. If it helped the goal, they extended conveniences even to non-employees.
The supply team passed the gate without inspection. The path to the inner sanctum split into guarded commercial and residential zones.
Just like Aroma's harbor, people hustled about. The difference? Scale of hope. Faces glowed brighter here, naturally.
“A megacorp chairman, a Depth 7 powerhouse. With power and wealth both, chasing honor now?”
“Conquering the labyrinth? That'd be an achievement echoing till humanity goes extinct.”
“Unless we colonize other planets.”
“Long way off. We've barely got a pinky-toe moon base—space colonies? Won't happen before I kick it.”
Taylor might be right. With the labyrinth's massive honey pot right here, who'd bother looking outward?
Resource prospecting drives space exploration. But with the labyrinth endlessly spewing riches, the need felt distant.
No wonder Saldos Federation polls showed citizens demanding slashed space budgets and boosted labyrinth funding.
Saldos desperately wanted to reclaim labyrinth interests, but Maze City government just snorted.
The politicians blinded by lobbyists to grant special autonomous status in the early discovery days? Still getting pulverized to dust.
The supply team's pace slowed slightly. Even the inner gate had checks, but they cleared quickly. Then, a mid-column logistics manager hurried up to Allen.
“Doubted you at first, but you've got skills. Still, unregistered explorers barred. Happy hunting.”
With that, the inner gate slammed shut right in front of him. Allen peered inside until the gap vanished.
“Nice setup. Too bad.”
“That Francois punk. Orc acting all high and mighty.”
“Isn't he half-orc?”
“Personnel says full orc, so that's what I figured. Explains the softer face?”
Softer only compared to a pure orc. Standing next to a human, he still looked plenty fierce.
“If records say orc, Uncle's right. My bad. Anyway, back outside we go.”
“No break?”
Allen's finger pointed at the sun.
“Still broad daylight.”
“No nights here. You and the monk on the same grind wears me out.”
“I forget needless stuff quick...”
“'Cause you're a machine?”
“Biology's just organic machinery—not wrong. Wasn't a thoughtless call, really.”
Allen drew the faintly vibrating compass from his pocket. More precisely, just the needle trembled. For it to quiver faintly before feeding it a mana stone was anything but ordinary.
A compass pointed to something. A door at the end, a ruin, or a monster.
The end.
The primordial forest demanded a different approach from caves or mazes. With sightlines wide open in all directions, observation zones exploded—keeping tension sky-high through the delve.
No black fog, sun refusing to set, vision stretching far... but plants cleverly obstructed. All senses—smell, hearing, the works—finally getting a proper workout after ages.
“That's why it tires you fast. No trails, gotta blaze your own. Sick of this green garbage.”
Taylor led, mana sword swishing through branches and brush. His side-box cleared fallen debris with mechanical arms; Shiba and Allen followed the opened path. The leopard, being an automaton, just prowled straight through thickets.
Taylor glanced back while clearing.
“Allen's busy scouting, fine—but shouldn't you pitch in?”
“Blades are too savage.”
“Neck-snapping and skull-crushing gentle, then?”
“Mother God's tenets forbid weapons causing bodily dismemberment.”
“Pulling rules now? You slice meat fine.”
Not sincere—just humidity venting a bit. With Taylor's focus split on pruning, Shiba stayed primed for holy arts anytime.
Allen manipulated six scout spiders. Forming a hexagonal formation around the party, they busily rolled their round camera eyes.
“Prey scarcer than expected. 23rd layer effect?”
As Allen said, all bases in the primordial forest sat on the 23rd layer. Crowded with explorers meant fierce competition and dwindling game.
To reach the next layer, you needed mana stones from the current one. Scarce prey? Cue disputes.
Preemptive pacts at bases sometimes pooled stones for one compass, but not always feasible. Wild parties might team up, but everyone had their own baggage.
Allen's party, after bagging a terror bird called a kelenken, hit friction. The late-arriving party leader raised his voice.
“We tracked it first—you swallow the whole damn thing?”
“Hunt was done already—what now? Besides, primordial forest beasts don't flee on spotting explorers—they attack.”