Blood on the Thirteenth Floor

"...We're going in."

"Understood."

Having finally cleared his head, Bennett ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crossed through the dimensional portal alongside his party.

Bennett swept his gaze across the surroundings, discerning at once that their arrival point was indoors.

An auditorium, maybe...?

It was a massive hall. Had an event been in the middle of preparation before disaster struck? A low platform sat at the front, faced by long, orderly rows of seats. Thick fabric draped across the expansive windows, sealing out the outside world. He scanned the perimeter, but detected no immediate threats.

Taking advantage of the brief lull, Bennett opened his status interface to distribute his unassigned points.

He raised his Strength to 20 and poured the remaining six points into Agility. He had briefly weighed investing in Psionic Energy, but since the system had explicitly stated that the stat absorbed mana, he decided to hold off and observe how it developed naturally.

The moment his Agility reached 40, an involuntary shiver ran through Bennett's body.

It was reminiscent of the bizarre exhilaration he felt whenever he gained experience, yet subtly distinct. A soothing, icy coolness washed through his muscle fibers, leaving his entire frame weightless and unburdened.

To test the change, he took a step forward—and was momentarily taken aback.

He had made a single, casual stride, yet he had effortlessly covered the distance of three. Increasing his Agility had always made his body feel lighter, but never to such a dramatic degree.

"Lady Erika, do you know what a 'police' force is?"

"Well, I'm certainly no dungeon scholar, but..."

While Bennett adjusted to his newly enhanced physique, Erika began explaining the difference between an army and a police department. Back in their home world on the continent, the military maintained public order during peacetime and mobilized for warfare in times of conflict. In this realm, however, organizations tasked with civil order and those waging war were entirely distinct entities.

"How curious," Kyle remarked, intrigued.

As Kyle and Edgar marveled at the concept, Bennett walked over to the windows and gently pulled back the blinds. A dead metropolis submerged in darkness laid itself bare before them.

...Remarkable.

Though deep, pitch-black shadows blanketed the landscape, Bennett's Night Vision pierced straight through them. Towering skyscrapers stood in endless, dizzying rows flanking expansive paved avenues. Across the asphalt sat countless abandoned metallic chassis—evidently their terrestrial means of transport. On several distant streets, indistinct silhouettes prowled about, none of them moving with the cadence of living humans.

"Whoa..."

Kyle and Edgar let out quiet gasps as they peeked through the slit, but Bennett soon rallied them back to inspect the hall. There was no telling when the Blue Moon might appear; lingering near windows was an unnecessary gamble.

"Find anything?"

A few moments later, the party regrouped. Unfortunately, there was little to show for their search. Kyle had discovered a sheet of paper covered in Dungeon Language, but its contents were completely indecipherable. Scratching his chin, Edgar turned toward the party's resident intellectual.

"Do you happen to read Dungeon Language, Lady Erika?"

"I-I'm afraid my studies haven't reached that far..."

Seeing her look dejected, Bennett gently patted her shoulder and had her stow the document into her bag. "There doesn't seem to be anything else here. Let's move out."

They approached the double exit. Bennett carefully nudged open the thick, soundproofed doors, when—

Krrraaargh!

A zombie violently thrust its rotting head through the opening. Without an ounce of hesitation, Edgar brought his mace down in a vicious arc.

Crunch!

With its skull pulverized, the corpse slumped lifelessly to the floor. But that was only the beginning. A chaotic patter of hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor beyond.

"Doors!"

"Right on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it!"

Kyle threw the double doors wide, revealing a swarm of zombies charging down the hallway. Assessing their numbers in a heartbeat, Bennett dropped onto one knee.

Th-th-th-th-thud!

A continuous burst of bolts tore from Shooting Star, cutting down the front ranks in an instant. The infected surging behind could not check their momentum, tripping over the fallen bodies and tumbling into a writhing heap. Bennett slotted in a fresh drum magazine as Kyle and Edgar sprinted forward side by side.

"Keep your spell ready, but hold your fire," Bennett commanded.

"Y-yes!"

Erika, who had been poised to unleash ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her magic, lowered her staff. A mage's mana and circle capacity were far from infinite; when the frontline could handle matters under their own power, squandering magical reserves was foolish.

"Bennett-nim, over there...!"

"I see them."

A handful of zombies that had slipped past Kyle and Edgar came lunging toward Bennett and Erika. Unfazed, Bennett calmly aligned his sights and squeezed the trigger. Crossbow bolts struck dead center between their eyes, dropping them mid-stride.

Thud!

The skirmish concluded as the final uniformed zombie hit the linoleum floor.

Bennett swept his eyes across the corridor once more. When looking outside from the auditorium, the faint moonlight had been their only illumination, but this hallway had functioning emergency power. Dim emergency lamps glowed at steady intervals along the ceiling. While hardly radiant, they cast enough light to clearly distinguish friend from foe. For now, no immediate danger lingered in the vicinity.

"Begin scavenging."

The party immediately set to work combing the corpses for anything of utility. Erika, who had initially been clumsy and hesitant during her first expeditions, was now naturally crouched between Kyle and Edgar, looting with practiced efficiency.

"Keep an eye out for identity cards, just like last time."

Once the search was finished, the party gathered their findings in one place. Their haul was quite varied: durable athletic shoes, polished leather dress shoes reminiscent of noble footwear, garments, gold rings, and necklaces. They also recovered several identification cards.

Printed alongside portraits of their former owners were characters of the enigmatic Dungeon Language. The reverse sides were densely packed with numbers and runes whose meanings were entirely lost on them. Having previously used an administrative ID card in the Closed Prison to infiltrate the Secret Research Laboratory, Bennett was certain that securing high-ranking identification would drastically smooth their path through this dungeon.

The only question is, whose badge holds the highest authority?

This organization had been dedicated entirely to law enforcement and operated out of a massive high-rise as its headquarters. Even if distinct from a military structure, it was bound to possess a strict hierarchy. After a moment of contemplation, Bennett set aside the IDs depicting younger faces. What remained were cards bearing the likenesses of middle-aged and elderly men. Even after that initial triage, a fair number remained.

"Take one each. There is a high probability these act as keycards to access secured facilities."

"Understood."

Bennett draped all the remaining lanyards around his own neck. It was somewhat awkward and bulky, but lacking the ability to read their titles, casting a wide net was the only logical choice.

A building layout... here it is.

He studied a floor plan mounted against the wall to determine their route. It was an enormous complex comprising fifteen floors above ground and three basement levels. Their current position was the very top floor. Wishing he had a more detailed floor-by-floor blueprint, Bennett decided ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to head downward. There were several elevator shafts—identical to the mechanized lifts they had ridden down into the prison's underground lab—but none of them had power. Ultimately, the stairwell was their only option.

Whooosh—

The moment they pushed through the fire exit into the stairwell, a violent draft rushed upward. Leaning over the central railing to look down, Bennett frowned. Portions of the lower stairs were missing, looking as if some titanic force had ripped them clean away. Fortunately, the collapsed section was several stories down; through the 12th floor, the steps remained intact.

"Keep moving."

They descended into the gloom. Just as they reached the landing between the 15th and 14th floors, another group emerged through the fire door of the 14th floor, and both parties locked eyes.

"Who goes there?!"

Backing against the threshold of the 14th floor, the strangers leveled their weapons defensively. It was a four-man team. They lacked a shield-bearing vanguard, consisting instead of two swordsmen and two archers.

Time to feel them out.

Though startled by the sudden encounter, Bennett calmly raised an open hand.

"Greetings."

"...?"

"My name is Bennett."

His tone was flat, yet radiated steady composure. After staring intensely at Bennett for several heartbeats, a middle-aged man spoke up.

"Jimmy's the name."

"Pleasure."

It was a bare-bones exchange, yet it diffused the brittle tension hanging in the air.

"Are you heading down to the thirteenth floor?" Bennett asked.

"...Aye. That's the plan."

Bennett gave an understanding nod. "We have no desire to pick a fight if we can avoid it. How about you, Jimmy?"

"We're not keen on pointless bloodshed either."

"Then how about you take the lead? Once your party enters the thirteenth floor, we'll step onto the fourteenth."

Jimmy's gaze flicked back toward the door behind him. "We've already cleared this floor out."

"That doesn't bother us."

Grasping the unspoken implication that Bennett's party intended to double-check the rooms for leftovers, Jimmy gave an agreeable nod.

"Sounds like a deal!"

Bennett made a welcoming gesture for them to pass. Jimmy signaled his crew and led them down the concrete steps. Jimmy and one swordsman took point, while the two archers brought up the rear, their eyes fixed warily on Bennett's team. Their drawn bows made it clear that any sudden movement would be met with arrows, but Bennett stood completely relaxed, having no hostile intentions from the start.

Their rhythmic footsteps faded down the staircase.

Thud!

The heavy fire door leading to the 13th floor slammed shut.

An invigorating wave of raw vitality flooded Bennett's veins. Clenching and unclenching his fist to steady the euphoric rush, he waved his companions forward.

"Let's move."

Unlike the 15th floor, which housed only the grand auditorium and utility supply closets, the 14th floor was packed with administrative offices of varying sizes. Zombie corpses dispatched by Jimmy's party lay strewn across the linoleum hallways.

"Those bowmen know their craft," Edgar muttered, nudging a body with his boot.

Far more infected bore precise arrow punctures through their skulls than cuts from steel. While striking from range was a natural advantage, putting down that many targets without breaking formation required exceptional discipline.

"Their numbers weren't that overwhelming, which likely helped," Kyle noted.

Bennett was inclined to agree. The zombie density on the 14th floor had not been half of what they had faced on the 15th. Had the horde been as thick as the one above, Jimmy's party might not have come through unscathed.

"Fan out and sweep the rooms."

Since the hostiles had already been neutralized, there was little need for hyper-vigilance. The party nodded and dispersed through the open office cubicles. Though Jimmy's team had conducted a thorough search, the floor was not entirely barren. As the old adage went, even a dry rag yields water if wrung hard enough. While hardly a massive jackpot, it was enough to fill the remaining empty pouches in their rucksacks.

Reviewing the choices presented by his level-up, Bennett narrowed his eyes.

What on earth is this...?

It was his second technical martial skill, arriving on the heels of Flash Sprint. And remarkably, it was an authentic combat system native to the dungeon's world—Earth.

Weighing it against the other mundane options, Bennett made his decision without hesitation.

Select Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.

The instant he confirmed the prompt, a torrent of kinetic comprehension, leverage mechanics, and anatomical leverage points surged into his consciousness. It took only seconds for Bennett to realize just how brutally efficient this art was in close quarters.

Opening his eyes, he addressed the regrouped members.

"We're heading down."

"Yes, sir."

Just as they stepped toward the stairwell door—

BOOOOOOM!

A concussive detonation slammed through the structure, violently rattling the concrete under their boots. Kyle, Edgar, and Erika flinched on reflex, ducking their heads against the deafening boom and shaking walls.

"W-what in the world was that?!"

"Lady Erika, was that an offensive spell?!"

"N-no! There was no surge of mana at all!"

"It came from below," Bennett said evenly.

Their heads snapped toward him. While everyone else had recoiled from the tremor, Bennett remained planted firmly on both feet, staring intently through the floorboards.

"Pardon?"

"Something blew up on the floor below."

Neither Kyle nor Edgar questioned his assessment; Bennett had repeatedly proven his tactical instincts in lethal situations. He turned toward their mage.

"Erika, prime a defensive barrier."

"Y-yes!"

Taking precautions against any ambush or structural collapse, they advanced cautiously toward the 13th floor. Reaching the heavy fire door, Bennett raised three fingers.

Three.

Two.

One.

Now.

Kyle wrenched the door open, and Erika thrust her completed barrier forward, projecting a luminous magical shield before the threshold.

Peeking past the translucent barrier onto the 13th floor, the party froze in their tracks.

"Ugh...!"

Jimmy's party, who had descended only minutes prior, lay pulverized. Shreds of shredded flesh, splintered bone, and crimson splatter coated the walls and ceiling in every direction. The trauma was horrific; so little remained intact that they had clearly caught the full fury of an explosive blast dead-on.

Bennett examined the carnage, trying to piece together the mechanism of the detonation, but usable evidence was scarce.

"Urrgh... There's no... lingering trace of magic," Erika choked out, clutching her mouth to suppress her nausea.

Looks like a mechanical trap.

Whether it had been deliberately planted by a rival scavenger crew or was an indigenous hazard of the dungeon was impossible to say.

"They were careless," Bennett murmured coldly.

Traps were designed to be invisible, but meticulous, methodical observation usually revealed their triggers. In their party, Bennett shouldered the scouting duties with veteran paranoia, but Jimmy's party evidently lacked a dedicated specialist—or whoever held that mantle had been woefully inept.

Clang.

Bennett and the others snapped their heads toward the far end of the corridor.

"...A door closing," Kyle whispered, hand resting on his pommel.

Hurried, heavy footsteps followed, and another party emerged from an intersecting corridor.

A six-person scavenger team.

Spearheaded by two frontliners bearing tower shields, they closed the distance with aggressive speed. After casting a perfunctory glance at the gore plastered across the walls, their eyes locked onto Bennett's crew.

"Did you bastards do this?!"

"No," Bennett replied flatly.

A heavily muscled woman leading the pack bared her teeth, her brow furrowing menacingly. "No? You expect us to buy that?!"

"We just arrived this very second."

"Bullshit! You've got a mage standing right there!"

She was aggressively demanding whether they had incinerated Jimmy's party with an explosive spell. Bennett considered pointing out the lack of mana residue, but quickly realized that any explanation was utterly meaningless.

The muscular woman's predatory eyes were actively trailing over Shooting Star, sweeping across the fine craftsmanship of Kyle's blade, and lingering on the enchanted gear adorning his party. Her pupils dilated with naked, unadulterated greed.

In that fraction of a second, Bennett understood everything.

This woman had zero interest in uncovering the truth. In fact, there was a very strong likelihood that her party had laid that explosive tripwire in the first place, waiting around the corner to pick through the wreckage.

"I'm talking to you, prick! You blew them apart, didn't you?!"

Though her frame and the two shieldbearers partially masked their backline, Bennett's sharp eyes caught the restless, frantic movements of their rear support preparing an assault.

"B-Bennett-nim... magic is taking shape behind them...!" Erika whispered in a frantic undertone.

The moment Erika's warning brushed his ears, Bennett made his decision.

Locking eyes with the opposing leader, he raised Shooting Star.

His motion was neither rushed nor erratic; it flowed with the effortless, liquid grace of an apex predator. Because the draw was so deceptively smooth, the opposing party failed to register the threat until it was far too late.

Thwip!

"Ghk...!"

A heavy steel bolt punched dead center between the muscular woman's wide, glaring eyes.

"S-Selly?!"

A crossbowman standing directly behind her reached out in panic, tapping her shoulder as her head snapped violently backward. Her jaw dropped slack, staring blankly at the acoustic ceiling tiles, before her muscular frame crashed lifelessly to the bloody floor.

"A-ATTACK!"