Descent into the Abandoned Hospital
The room brimmed with the blue glow of the hologram map. Zero expanded the screen with practiced hand movements as he spoke.
"Dungeons are littered with special artifacts that laugh in the face of real-world physics. That's why solvers and mages swarm them like moths to a flame, chasing that one big payday."
Weird photos of bizarre artifacts popped up on the screen. Their varied shapes reminded me of the weapons I'd seen on the fourth floor of Barrett's gun shop.
"The supplies in our clinic come from one of those stabilized dungeons—the Abandoned Hospital. Unique medical artifacts replenish there periodically."
"Oh..."
Yeah, for a rundown clinic in the boonies, it had suspiciously high-end medical gear.
I seized the moment to ask what had been bugging me.
"So, what's the deal with these dungeons anyway? Why are they packed with artifacts, and how do these otherworldly spaces pop up right in the middle of the city...?"
Zero pointed to a magnified spot on the map. The red blinking mark there was obviously the dungeon.
"What do you think a dungeon is, kid? Some comic-book demon king's castle?"
"From the name alone... it conjures images of a dangerous place crawling with monsters and stuffed with treasure. Like a labyrinth or underground prison."
He snorted at my answer, adjusting his sunglasses.
"Half right, half wrong. Essentially, a dungeon's a dimensional tumor. You know how our world is structured?"
Zero straightened up, setting the mood.
The structure of the world... This felt like it was going to be heavy stuff, so I listened intently.
"Nah, not in detail."
"First thing to know: this world is flat."
"...Not a planet?"
A flat Earth in reality. Zero nodded at my skeptical question and continued.
"If you think of the space with stars and planets floating around as the surface, then the world we live in—the Iris continent—is like ruins submerged under the sea. That massive sea of information called the Outer Sea, or the Well."
Outer Sea. Finally, a glimpse into that eerie term that had been mentioned in passing.
"What keeps us from drowning in the Outer Sea's waters is the dimensional binding force—an invisible barrier wrapping the world. But even that binding weakens at certain fracture points. The droplets leaking through those cracks... that's what we call dungeons."
Dungeons were interstitial spaces—otherworldly realms bubbling up through dimensional fissures.
And their origin reached far deeper than the continent we stood on, into a primordial abyss of information.
Once I'd sorted it out in my head, the Outer Sea seemed less like a literal ocean and more like a metaphor for some massive data aggregate.
Like the collective unconscious or something like that.
Zero pulled up another hologram: men in suits and sunglasses, looking like secret agents. Management Bureau operatives.
"That's where the Management Bureau comes in. Know why they glare at city-center dungeons?"
"Monsters spilling out? For public safety, maintaining order... something like that?"
Zero shook his head at my guess.
"If it was just aberrations, they'd handle it with high-rank mages or imperial elite squads. The real issue is breakdown. Leave a dungeon alone, and the fissure widens, devouring surrounding space. Eventually, reality itself drowns in the Outer Sea, flooding with aberrations—that's the start of a catastrophe."
Like the gate breaks in those hunter stories.
"Carving out and sealing these dimensional tumors in reality? That's the Management Bureau's core job and reason for existing."
No wonder they wielded so much influence; they literally decided if the world kept turning.
So what was their relationship with the Empire, the de facto rulers of the continent? I hadn't crossed paths with any imperial folks yet, so that was still a blind spot.
"They'll do anything to stabilize dungeons. Public safety? Order? They don't give a shit. All that matters to them is preserving the world."
Zero lowered his voice. I could feel his serious gaze through the sunglasses.
"And that's where the answer to getting you an identity comes in."
He lit a cigarette and added,
"Like I said before, the cleanest way to forge an ID is grabbing ghost data from a missing person in a stabilized dungeon. The Management Bureau's system marks them as MIA. Slap some magical tweaks on their ID code, and you're golden—safe and sound."
I nodded slowly as he explained, then ventured,
"...You're not coming with, Uncle?"
Zero spat smoke and bellowed at my question.
"You nuts?! Why the hell would I crawl into that hellhole on my own two feet? Be grateful I'm hooking you up with a free ID!"
He scratched his bald head furiously, pacing the exam room.
He grimaced like it was a huge hassle, but my puppy-dog eyes wore him down, and he finally sighed.
"Haa... Damn it. Guess first-timers get a pass."
Maybe he thought he'd gone too far, because he grumbled as he rummaged through a gear bag in the corner.
"Fine. I don't wanna see a newbie like you lost and rotting in there... And imagining Walter taking it out on me if shit goes south? Nightmare fuel."
Muttering to himself, Zero tossed me a small communicator.
"Abandoned Hospital. I'll go in with you, guide the way. Can't have you keeling over uselessly—too much clinic supplies and time wasted on you already."
"Solid backup. Works for me."
I smirked in reply.
"Just don't croak! If you do, I'll chase you to hell itself for medical bill repayment."
Rough words, but it meant he'd tag along into danger to help. I'd pegged him as just a cynical bastard, but now I had a reliable ally.
"That's it for today. I'll ping the schedule via comms later—pay attention. Now scram. I need a break."
That night, back at the inn, I shared tea with Walter on the terrace.
Slurp—
Staring down at the 17th District's nightscape on the eve of dungeon diving felt grimmer than usual.
Mood, maybe.
"Teaming up with Zero? Good call."
Walter asked with a kind smile. I nodded.
"Yeah. He griped but said he'd help out."
"That guy's all bark on the surface, soft as they come inside. Got some painful past he can't wash away. That guilt turned him into a doctor. So... he can't just walk past fragile folks like you."
Walter paused, fiddling with his teacup.
"Why he set up shop in this shithole 17th District? Probably to atone by saving the dying. You coming back safe? That'd be the best thanks you could give him."
Walter's words finally made Zero's odd behavior click. The venomous barbs to keep distance, yet always slipping me supplies anyway.
"Time to head in. Curfew's closing."
Weeee-ooo—!
Hearing the distant siren, I thought,
Tomorrow I'd brush death again... but not alone this time.
Griping bald doc Zero, steadfast innkeeper Walter watching my back. People worrying about me, lending a hand.
That alone made tomorrow's city bearable.
Next morning, I arrived at the pre-arranged spot.
17th District southern boundary. An underground loading dock tangled with massive machinery. Zero was already there, waiting.
"Not late."
He'd swapped his doctor coat for bulky tactical body armor. Paired with his tanky build, he looked intimidating as hell.
Ahead, a group was geared up. One scanned me and started yapping bullshit.
"...This chick's going into the dungeon too? The employment office prick finally lost it?"
The guy was decked in tactical gear. His chest plate was engraved: [Anyeong Pharma Exploration Team C Leader: Jang Wi]. Corporate expedition team, apparently.
Behind him, five or six team members strutted with cutting-edge energy rifles and drones.
Definitely pros. Unlike the third-rate solvers and gang thugs I'd seen, their gear gleamed—hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of credits invested.
"Cut the chatter. She's with us. Mind your own."
Zero shut down the leader's snark with a gravelly tone.
"Ha! With us? That tiny girl gonna carry a basket even? Hey, kiddo. Scared? Go home, suck mommy's tit some more. This ain't a playground."
The team erupted in snickers at their leader's mockery.
"Boss, everyone's a solver these days. Dragging in greenhorns like her? What're we, chopped liver?"
"Look at that gear. No proper shield gen? Not even protective suit. One aberration and she'll piss herself."
Ah, my light outfit made me look like easy prey. If I'd gone witch mode, they'd clock the mage vibe and back off.
Illusion as a plain girl? Yeah, I looked harmless.
They ragged on my "normal" clothes (really illusion-overlaid glamour), fixating on it.
Their million-credit exosuits and drones were their status symbols, apparently.
I stared silently.
...Pathetic.
I murmured inwardly. In a world where looks weren't everything, their idiocy was laughable.
Those shiny new weapons, pristine without a scratch—doubted they'd seen real action.
Like pay-to-win gamers with flashy gear, noob-trapped in encounters till respawn.
Zero's face twitched—he was holding back a laugh, same as me.
"Done talking? Entrance opening."
As Zero spoke, space warped at the dock's center, ripping open a massive fissure.
Rumble—!
A hospital corridor lit by glaring red emergency lights materialized from the dark.
"Alright, move in! Drones up front, shields at 80%! You got the section chief's orders? Stick to training!"
The Anyeong Pharma team charged into the gloom at their leader's bark, brimming with cocky energy.
Zero clapped my shoulder, eyeing their ridiculous backsides.
"See? Gearheads who trust money die first. Let 'em tank while we chill in the rear."
"Haha, but... think those guys'll make it to floor 2?"
Zero scratched his dome and replied coolly.
"Dunno. Lucky, maybe we fish a corpse. C'mon, mage."
Zero and I stepped into the Abandoned Hospital's shadows. It had begun.