Someone's Diary 2
'Whoa, what the hell is this?'
I jumped at the sudden notification. Translation? I had no idea what else this NPC class had in store for me—it kept catching me off guard.
Shaking off the surprise, I immediately tested the new Translation skill on the book.
Would you like to use 300 MP to translate this book?
[Yes / No]
I was startled again by how much MP it consumed—way more than expected—but when I activated it, the book's contents suddenly flowed smoothly under my eyes. Just moments ago, it had been black scribbles on dingy parchment, but now it read effortlessly.
As I turned to the first page, the content made me jump once more.
A report came in that a dungeon gate had suddenly appeared in my territory's iron ore mine. At first, I thought it was a hidden dungeon of some warlock and was thrilled. I figured a chance for overnight riches had finally come to my domain.
I immediately mobilized the entire domain knight order, domain mages, and elite soldiers to enter the gate. Sure enough, it was teeming with monsters I'd never seen before. Though my domain is the remotest corner of the kingdom, our elite soldiers were battle-hardened against monsters descending from the Carol Mountains. The knights needed no mention—the knight captain was an Expert upper-level master, and all twenty knights under him were Expert beginner to intermediate.
My domain's forces pushed through the dungeon like that, finally disposing even of the chimera crafted by the warlock. But all that came out was three mid-grade mana stones. Utterly pathetic rewards compared to the monsters' level. We scoured every inch of the dungeon but found nothing more, so I had no choice but to withdraw the troops. I'd realized the dungeon's mana hid poison. Not strong enough to cause immediate casualties, but with prolonged exposure, its stacking effect could damage mana hearts.
Regretfully, I had to pull out of the dungeon.
"This... this content?"
I was speechless as I read down the first page. The book was a diary of what seemed to be the lord of some rural domain. Instinctively, I knew the "warlock's dungeon" it mentioned was the exact same as the dungeons appearing on Earth.
I still couldn't tell the dungeon's rank, what grade "mid-grade mana stone" equated to, or how "Expert" compared to hunter ranks. But even this revealed plenty.
For starters, this world resembled the medieval European fantasy era from novels and movies. Domains and lords existed, as did knight orders, mages, and warlocks. Above all, they seemed to conquer the dungeon on their first try the moment it appeared. They even had the leisure to thoroughly search it afterward.
That alone hinted at their strength. On Earth, it took a full year to conquer the first dungeon—and that was a C-rank. Yet this diary's protagonist cleared an unknown-rank dungeon in a single day, from a backwater domain no less.
By now, I was dying of curiosity about what came next. What on earth had happened in this world? I flipped the page eagerly.
The warlock's dungeon was astonishing—a place where monsters respawned. I'd planned to search it once more and seal it if nothing turned up. A poison-ridden dungeon was inconvenient anyway, and it blocked the iron mine passages, so mining demanded its destruction.
But when we entered... my god. All the monsters had respawned. I had no idea how, but we wiped them out first. The search yielded five mid-grade mana stones this time.
Damn it all! I whooped, forgetting my lordly dignity. How it happened didn't matter anymore. Just that monsters kept spawning anew—and with them, mana stones.
Damn. No respawn.
I whooped again. They respawned. Confirming the two-day cycle, I resolved to raid every other day. This time, four mid-grade mana stones. Four every two days—sixty a month, matching a small mana stone mine's output over the same period.
I'd worried over our depleting iron veins, but this dungeon solved it all. I threw a festival for the domain.
The same story repeated for a while—mana stones harvested from the dungeon—until something new appeared.
I thought the dungeon unique to my domain, but it appeared across the kingdom—no, the entire continent. And mana stones weren't just mid-grade. Depending on the monsters, they ranged from low to top-grade.
I immediately concealed it. I clamped down on the domain folk and declared death for any leaks. To survive, the dungeon had to stay secret. The royals and grand lords would surely move.
As expected, Grand Lord Marquis Kamon moved. Viscount Drseph, lord of the neighboring domain, was demoted to commoner for hiding his dungeon.
Hearing that, I debated revealing mine but ultimately hid it. For surviving the coming chaos, my domain needed this dungeon. I concealed it thoroughly—collapsing mine passages to mimic exhausted veins, then using all gathered mana stones for domain mages to install magic arrays. Marquis Kamon's inspection team found nothing; officially, my domain has no dungeon.
"This guy's incredible."
I couldn't help but admire him. I'd started reading out of pure curiosity about another world's dungeon outbreak, but soon I empathized with the lord's actions. It felt like a novel, his gambles awe-inspiring. I hungered for the next page.
As I'd foreseen, chaos engulfed the world. Domain wars over dungeons erupted daily; great and small domains fell. Fortunately, mine was rumored dungeon-free and tucked in the Carol Mountains' corner—no one targeted it.
Amid it, odd folk emerged among commoners and some soldiers. Mana affinity near zero, lifelong practitioners unable to sense mana. Yet they sensed it now—and grew rapidly fighting dungeon monsters. I wondered if dungeons existed for them and began nurturing them actively.
"Hunters."
As expected, just delayed from Earth. I admired the lord's choice again. This world had rigid class divides. No matter how skilled, commoners couldn't become knights. Thus, soldiers outdid knights in skill but obeyed unquestioningly. Unfathomable to me, but that's how it was.
Prioritizing commoners over knights marked him no ordinary man.
As expected, similar folk surged across the continent, not just my domain. But nowhere were they welcomed. Class barriers first; knights and mages sufficed for dungeons, no need for commoner power—that pride second. Mana-sensing commoners were even executed for allegedly stealing knight mana training.
Hearing this, I spent all saved coin to secretly bring them to my domain and elevated them, using the dungeon to raise them.
In just six months, domain population quintupled. From 30,000 to over 150,000. Of the 120,000 increase, 40,000 were secretly gathered commoner talents from last year. Early arrivals matched Expert beginner knights—10,000 of them. The royals hold just 1,000 knights. Overall quality incomparable, but numbers overwhelmed.
Whose rumor? Word spread of a top-grade mana stone dungeon in the Carol Mountains. Count Drilton family, who swallowed Marquis Kamon to become regional grand lords, unilaterally notified using my domain as base for Carol recon.
They'd empty the lord's castle, use my knights as guides, prepare supplies, conscript domain folk to clear paths to dungeons. Facing Drilton's decree, I resolved: no more enduring.
I didn't need to anymore. 60,000 Expert-grade knights awaited—steadily recruited commoner mana users. 40,000 mid-Expert, rest beginners. Enough to topple the kingdom.
I unfurled my hidden ambition and declared domain war on Drilton.
"Ah!"
Absorbed, I'd reached the last page. I smacked my lips in regret. Was this how binge-readers felt demanding more? I craved the sequel—what became of the lord, the dungeon.
But more crucial lingered.
What the hell are dungeons?
Twenty years since dungeons appeared, nothing revealed. Yet this Dungeon Book gave fragments. My hunch of other worlds became certainty. Likely, dungeons hit that world too—and others.
Reading more Dungeon Books would confirm it.
I'd prepped other tasks, but reprioritized: Dungeon Books first. They might yield dungeon intel or future prep via other worlds.
Maybe even uncover dungeons' true nature.
Moreover, that world's hunters resembled Earth's but differed. Ours had game-like stats, skills. The diary just called them new mana users—no such details.
Hunters emerge, but power manifestation varies? What's that about?
All mysteries seemed answerable in Dungeon Books.
Dungeon Books. I need more.
"What? You can't get them?"
I'd contacted Lee Musin, figuring the Hunter Management Bureau chief could snag Dungeon Books. His reply shocked me.
—Yes. Dungeon Books are association-protected items; must go straight to the World Hunter Association upon acquisition. None circulate publicly. Personal hunters find them useless anyway—no black market either.
"Come on, can't a guy just look? Why do they hoard them?"
Lee Musin startled at my outburst.
—Pardon? What do you mean?
"Ah, nothing. Any way to view Dungeon Books?"
I pivoted quickly.
—Only the Dungeon Studies Research Institute under the World Hunter Association. Books there can't be checked out—not even by Alfredo.
Disappointment hit as his words sank in, but one idea sparked.
"Chief. Could I enter that institute?"
To be continued in the next chapter...
The Hunter Who Awakened as an NPC