The Blind Spot of Truth
"Bennett-nim! Erika-nim!"
Bennett set Erika down from his back and straightened up.
Under normal circumstances, the Pioneers' Hall would have been bustling with people, but today it was conspicuously deserted. The vast space felt hollow, almost eerie.
The reason went without saying.
It must be because of the laboratory's collapse.
While it was an accepted fact that fewer scavengers emerged from a dungeon than entered it, the trickle of survivors this time was unnervingly small. Worse yet, that was not all. The blue portal—which should have remained open much longer—had vanished without leaving a trace.
Beside it, the green portal remained stably open, continuing to disgorge scavengers who had just made their escape.
"W-What the hell? Why did it close already?"
"There should still be time left... right?"
Murmurs of shock rippled through the hall. The companions waiting to welcome their parties, the merchant clerks idling for customers, and even the city administrators tasked with managing the Pioneers' Hall were all visibly unsettled.
"...The city is going to be in an uproar," Kyle murmured grimly.
Casualties inside a dungeon were nothing extraordinary. Even taking that grim reality into account, however, the fallout from this incident promised to be catastrophic.
Of all those who had ventured into the Hard difficulty, only a tiny fraction had managed to escape. Bennett couldn't verify the exact numbers, but a quick scan of the empty expanse confirmed his worst suspicions.
"Excuse me."
The party turned at the call. A man who appeared to belong to an established clan approached them with hesitant steps.
"You just came back from the Hard difficulty, right?"
"...Yes, we did," Kyle answered.
"Do you happen to know what happened in there? The portal has never closed this early before."
Though he strained to maintain his composure, anxious dread cracked across his features. Kyle opened his mouth to reply, then hesitated, casting a backward glance at Bennett.
Bennett gave a slight nod, signaling that he could speak.
"This time, the Hard difficulty was a place called the [Quarantined Laboratory]. I'm not sure why, but out of nowhere, a timer appeared and a countdown began..."
Kyle paused midway.
Without him noticing, an anxious crowd had clustered around them, straining to catch every word. Like the clan member, they were individuals waiting desperately for their comrades to return.
"A-And then what happened?"
"The entire facility..." Kyle glanced back at Bennett.
Bennett silently mouthed a single word: collapsed.
"...collapsed."
"It... collapsed?"
The clan member and the onlookers stood frozen, staring blankly at Kyle in disbelief.
The stunned silence lasted only a heartbeat before desperation took hold, and the crowd surged forward.
"P-Please, tell us in more detail what happened!"
"Did you see our party by any chance?! Please! This is a matter of life and death!"
"Do you know why it collapsed? Was it like that from the moment you entered?"
Kyle tried to answer as best he could, but Bennett firmly intervened.
"That's enough. Are you planning to recount every single thing we experienced?"
"No, sir."
People clung to them with frantic pleas born of their own private agonies, but Bennett steered his companions away without hesitation, putting distance between them and the mob.
"W-Welcome! This is the Sylvia Firm!"
It was the Sylvia Merchant Guild, with whom Bennett had traded several times before. While they preferred to settle payments with guild promissory notes, they paid fair rates for loot and strictly adhered to the unwritten rules of the trade.
Perhaps the grim tension permeating the Pioneers' Hall had infected them as well; the guild staff, who usually wore polished professional smiles, showed noticeable cracks in their composure. Their bewilderment was plain to see.
While the rest of the party unloaded their scavenged haul, Bennett guided Liam toward a secluded corner.
"You went through a great deal this time. I imagine the shock must be heavy."
"...I only have gratitude for you and your comrades, Bennett-nim. If not for you, I wouldn't have made it out alive either."
Bennett studied Liam closely before speaking. "Regarding what happened inside the dungeon..."
"My lips are sealed." Having understood Bennett's underlying concern immediately, Liam answered without hesitation. "I won't speak a word about the elves, not even to the bereaved families. Sometimes... ignorance is a mercy."
"Good." Bennett offered a hand, and they shook. "Best of luck to you."
"Thank you again. Truly."
Offering a deep, respectful bow, Liam picked up his pack and turned away. The solitary figure of a man who had lost all his companions looked unbearably desolate from behind.
By the time Bennett returned to his party, the liquidation was nearly complete.
"In total..."
The payout was quite respectable. It didn't reach the astronomical heights of their run in the [Closed Police Headquarters], but it was more than enough to justify the blood and sweat they had poured into the expedition.
Just as the party concluded all business in the Pioneers' Hall and prepared to step outside, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Hold it right there!"
An armed squad surged forward, swiftly encircling them. They were the Dungeon City Guard, soldiers Bennett frequently spotted patrolling the grounds.
Bennett's hand drifted instinctively toward the Shooting Star concealed beneath his coat, while the other party members gripped the hilts of their weapons without missing a beat.
The city guards glared right back, unwilling to yield an inch. The atmosphere tightened like a drawn bowstring.
"All of you, stand down!"
At the commanding shout, the soldiers who had hemmed them in stepped back as if they had been waiting for the order. The suffocating tension dissipated at once.
Through the parting ranks walked a middle-aged man with a deeply exhausted countenance. After scanning each member of the party, his gaze naturally settled on Bennett.
"Are you the leader?"
"I am."
"I'm Walker from the City Hall Administration Department. It looks like you've just emerged from the Hard difficulty, haven't you?"
"That's correct."
Walker shifted his gaze toward the Pioneers' Hall. Even from here, the frantic disorder hanging over the central hall was palpable.
"As you know better than anyone, an appalling number of people seem to have perished in the Hard difficulty today. We'd like to take testimony from someone who experienced it firsthand. Would you be willing to cooperate?"
"Right now?"
"The sooner, the better."
"...Then there shouldn't be any problem if I go alone as the representative."
Walker nodded. "That works."
"Bennett-nim?" Kyle began, concerned.
Bennett placed a firm hand on Kyle's shoulder. "Go back and get some rest. We'll regroup later."
"Understood."
Kyle stepped back, darting troubled glances between Bennett and Walker. Erika blinked in surprise, then quietly followed Kyle's lead and withdrew.
It's a good thing I sent Liam away early.
Had Liam been pulled into the questioning as well, their clash with the elves might have leaked.
And eventually, word would have reached the elves themselves. It was an open secret that the bureaucrats of Dungeon City received patronage from various major factions.
Even the Council, which determined all major affairs in the city, had its seats apportioned to the diverse power syndicates. If that was how the highest echelons operated, the lower-tier officials handling day-to-day enforcement were no different.
"Let's go, then," Bennett said, falling into step with Walker and his escort of guards.
After walking for quite some time, an imposing stone structure came into view.
Considering that the vast majority of buildings in Dungeon City were fashioned from timber, the complex stood out distinctly.
Several massive stone edifices were clustered together, ringed by perimeter walls of moderate height. Dungeon City guards were stationed at regular intervals, keeping vigilant watch.
"Welcome to City Hall."
This is City Hall?
Bennett had never had business here before, having only heard about its existence in passing.
"Before the dungeons were discovered, this was the beating heart of the city," Walker remarked casually.
"...Is that so?"
"Indeed. But once the portals leading to the dungeons were uncovered and facilities like the Pioneers' Hall were erected, the true center naturally shifted."
Noticing Bennett's examining gaze, Walker gave a dry shrug. "Well, that's history for you."
The guards stationed at the entrance recognized Walker's face and promptly stepped aside to clear a path.
Each department seemed to occupy an entire building of its own, with a plaque overhead reading:
"Right then, take a seat over here."
Walker led Bennett into a small room tucked away in a quiet corner. Bennett could detect a subtle hum of mana in the air, hinting that some form of magic circle was embedded in the room.
"Hmm, where should we begin?"
Bennett remained quiet.
"Your name first, please."
"Bennett."
"Mr. Bennett, do you belong to any particular faction or clan?"
"I'm a mercenary, but I have no formal affiliation."
Nodding, Walker scribbled on a piece of paper he had brought along. "An independent party, then. Now, please describe everything that occurred from the moment you stepped into the dungeon."
Bennett methodically recounted the events, keeping his tone measured. Naturally, he stripped away all mentions of the elves and the Thief Clan.
He did, however, provide a detailed account of the escape itself, having sensed that this was the exact information the official sought.
"A countdown suddenly began? And you could see it displayed all across the dungeon?"
"That's correct."
"Hmm... Some form of Update, perhaps."
Strictly speaking, it was the catastrophic byproduct of the elves' reckless tampering, but Bennett held his tongue.
"Has something like this happened before?"
"...It would be a lie to say it hasn't. This city didn't sprout up yesterday, after all." Walker clicked his tongue in thought. "Well, things will be noisy for a while, but it'll quiet down soon enough."
"Will it?"
Bennett had merely offered a polite prompt, but Walker took it as enthusiastic engagement and began to ramble.
"Everyone knows people die like flies in dungeons. Yet, despite the slaughter, Dungeon City only keeps swelling in size. Why do you think that is?"
"...I wonder."
"Because people flock here from across the entire continent? True enough. But stripped to its essence, it comes down to one thing: opportunity."
Opportunity?
"People view Dungeon City as a chance. Failures who couldn't make a living in their homelands, criminals fleeing in a hurry, ordinary folk scraping by who crave something greater... Their reasons may differ, but they all view Dungeon City as an opportunity. Perhaps even as hope."
Though he showed nothing on his face, Bennett found merit in Walker's words.
After all, Bennett had come here driven by vengeance and the desperate need to cure his sister's illness.
And to some degree, he had achieved those aims. He was systematically undermining the Drake Family's ventures, and with the modern medicine recovered from the dungeons, he had successfully halted the progression of Bella's condition.
"In other words, Dungeon City expands by grinding those very people into dust."
Bennett remained silent.
"In truth, ever since the dungeons emerged, the population of Dungeon City has never once declined. It just keeps climbing. I believe this momentum will endure indefinitely. Though, of course, there are those who disagree..." Walker shrugged lightly. "Who knows? Maybe those doomsayers will turn out to be right. But as of right now, Dungeon City continues to expand, and far from facing a labor shortage, human lives are in overflowing abundance. If my guess holds true, this disaster will cause a stir for a few days, only to be completely forgotten."
Closing his ledger with a sharp snap, Walker looked up.
"Listen to me, rambling on. At any rate, thank you for your cooperation today."
Offering a handshake, Walker slid a business card across the table. This, too, was a modern artifact imported from the dungeon world.
It was a neat, unpretentious card.
"Get in touch if you ever need assistance. Or, well, if you happen to recall anything else regarding this incident."
"...Understood."
Taking the card, Bennett departed the Administration Department with brisk strides.
Watching Bennett retreat from the second-story window, Walker turned his head as a subordinate official hurried over with a clipboard.
"What did the reading say?"
"Every single answer registered as the truth, sir."
"Yes, I expected as much."
Catching Walker's tepid reaction, the junior clerk tilted his head in confusion. "Do you suspect he was lying, sir? The truth detection spell installed in the interrogation room indicated that everything he uttered was completely genuine."
"Truth spells aren't absolute. Powerful as they are, they have an inherent blind spot."
"A blind spot?"
"It cannot judge what isn't spoken."
Seeing the clerk's blank expression, Walker found the youth's naivety almost endearing and elaborated.
"Truth magic only evaluates the words that actually leave a person's mouth. If someone deliberately omits key facts or chooses not to mention them at all, the spell is entirely helpless."
"Ah...!"
"Which is why relying solely on truth magic is flawed; combining it with other interrogation techniques yields far better accuracy. Unfortunately, being part of the Administration Department, we lack the authority to employ harsher methods."
"Then earlier..."
"I deliberately dragged out the conversation to gauge his reactions. But he didn't give away a single superfluous tell."
The junior official followed Walker's gaze out the window.
"There should be other parties that made it out of the Hard difficulty. Obtain as detailed a statement as possible from them," Walker ordered. "And ask them whether they ever caught sight of him."
"Understood, sir."
"If any bastards from affiliated clans or private syndicates throw a tantrum, push them over to me."
While he didn't mind guiding the junior clerk, Walker's assistance wasn't purely born of goodwill.
In this city, the stance and reactions of major factions toward specific incidents often proved to be invaluable intelligence in their own right.
Information was money—a reality Walker understood down to his marrow, even if his wide-eyed subordinate remained oblivious.
"Haha, will do, sir."
"Good. You're dismissed."
Once alone, Walker fixed his eyes upon the empty street where Bennett had vanished.
"Just what in the world are you hiding?"
After leaving City Hall and making his way back toward his residence, Bennett came to an abrupt halt.
In the alleyway along the path to his home stood an unfamiliar woman.
Bennett observed her in silence. Having sensed his presence as well, the woman turned her head and met his gaze.
A shadowy, unknown figure standing motionless in the dark.
Bennett activated Night Vision.
Night Vision Lv.2
The shroud of darkness peeled away, gradually unveiling the woman's appearance.
A form-fitting dress that clung to her curves, wavy violet hair cascading past her shoulders, and an alluring, finely chiseled face.
...It was a face he had never seen before.
"Who are you?" Bennett asked coolly.
The woman offered an enchanting smile.
"Bennett Collins, is it?"
Without a word, Bennett shifted his grip on the Shooting Star beneath his coat.