Evaluation Test

Steel Fist was obvious enough—it would merely harden his knuckles. Bennett turned his full attention toward examining the remaining two options.

Staggering Step doesn't look half bad either, but...

Bennett's gaze naturally drifted toward Rupture Scream, a technique bearing a rather grandiose title. While he was thoroughly versed in ranged combat, he remained relatively vulnerable in close-quarters melee. It had not posed any major issue thus far, but expecting to draw his Chainsword with increasing regularity going forward, he needed a reliable sword technique in his repertoire.

...Select Rupture Scream.

In that instant, Bennett's eyes widened. Everything concerning Rupture Scream came flooding into his mind in a single rush. It was an unpredictable blade art that defied conventional common sense. In terms of erratic dazzle and sheer disorientation, hardly any martial style could match it. Whoever had the misfortune of crossing blades with it in the future would certainly suffer for it.

Unlike the chaotic bloodbath of the fourth floor, their progress across the fifth floor unfolded smoothly. Its office layout was virtually identical to the floors below. Though they crossed paths with another scavenger party along the way, both groups merely exchanged wary, polite nods before continuing in opposite directions.

Bennett's party decided to catch some rest in a fifth-floor break room. They had caught their breath on the fourth floor as well, but with the unending screams and clattering steel ringing out across the halls, proper rest had been impossible—they had merely crouched in place on high alert. Above all, none of them had slept a wink since entering the dungeon.

"Huh? No, you don't need to go that far on our account, Bennett-nim," Kyle said, waving his hands modestly. "We can still hold out fine."

"Sleep," Bennett replied evenly. "That's an order."

Though Kyle and Edgar had protested that they were fine, the moment they crawled into their bedrolls, both slipped straight into a dead slumber. They slept so soundly that when Erika woke an hour later and pounced on Bennett, neither man stirred.

She slipped silently out of her blankets and wrapped her arms around Bennett from behind. Perhaps rattled by the brush with death on the floor below, she took the initiative with unusual urgency. Her eager hands roamed over him, gently pressing him back until she climbed on top. Unflustered, Bennett took her into his arms and met her rhythm.

"Mmh...?"

As Erika gathered her clothes and buttoned her blouse, something in the corner of the room caught her eye.

"Bennett-nim, look at this..."

"Hm?"

She retrieved a small yellow cardboard box that had been wedged into the corner. On its glossy surface was an illustration of a smiling woman cradling a teacup filled with a rich brown beverage, wisps of steam curling from the rim.

"Looks like a beverage from the dungeon world," Bennett remarked.

Judging by the pictured steam, however, it seemed closer to a hot tea rather than the fizzy soda they had tasted earlier. Inspecting the packaging, Bennett found illustrated instructions printed on the back. The simple step-by-step diagrams were intuitive enough for someone from another realm to grasp.

"Erika, boil some hot water."

"Right away!"

Bennett reached into the small perforated flap on the box. His fingers brushed against smooth, familiar plastic wrap before pulling out a slender packet. It was a bright yellow stick featuring a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dotted line next to a green band near the tip.

"Here is the hot water, Bennett-nim."

"Set it down."

Pinching the green dotted line, he gave it a gentle tear. The packet parted smoothly, revealing a fine granules-and-powder blend inside. Bennett tilted the stick, emptying its contents into the mug. The clear water gradually transformed into a warm, creamy brown as an intoxicatingly sweet and rich aroma blossomed across the break room. Using a fork, he stirred the mixture thoroughly until the powder dissolved.

Slurp—

Taking a cautious sip, Bennett's eyes widened. A velvety sweetness coated his tongue. He had never cared for overly saccharine foods, yet this beverage carried a surprising, comforting depth—it felt genuinely sweet rather than cloying. Even the faint trace of roast bitterness lingering on the finish was immensely appealing.

Beside him, Erika took a sip from the rim and gasped in delight.

"I-it's delicious!"

"Not bad, right?"

"I love this so much more than that fizzy drink from the can!"

While Bennett personally favored the cold carbonated sodas, he had to admit women would likely fall head over heels for this mysterious tea. Regardless of preference, the flavor was nothing short of extraordinary. Teas back in their homeland rarely offered much variety, making the difference all the more striking. Though they had intended to share a single mug, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they ended up brewing another.

A short while later, Kyle and Edgar woke up. Caught by the enticing fragrance hanging in the air, their eyes went wide, and Bennett brewed another serving for the two vanguard warriors.

"Whoa, this is incredible!" Kyle exclaimed.

"To think something could taste this good... I honestly can't believe it," Edgar murmured, staring down into the cup.

Naturally, their praise was overwhelming.

"We could fetch a fortune selling ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this outside," Kyle noted.

"Who knows, the high nobility might already be hoarding this stuff for themselves," Edgar grunted, shaking his head. "Rotten bastards, keeping something this good all to themselves..."

"Um..." Erika interjected timidly, savoring the dregs of her cup in tiny sips. "Couldn't we... just keep it all for ourselves?"

"Let's search for more first," Bennett replied.

The party turned the kitchenette inside out, successfully scavenging several more unopened yellow boxes before packing up.

In high spirits, they set out toward ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the stairwell to head up to the sixth floor, only to freeze in their tracks.

"Wait... where are the stairs?" Kyle asked, staring at the blank wall.

The emergency stairwell, which had been situated in the exact same location from the second floor through the fifth, had vanished without a trace. And it wasn't just the stairs. Where there had previously been three elevator shafts side by side, only a single one remained.

"It seems we'll have to circle all the way around to the other side," Edgar said, scratching his head.

"Hold on."

After a moment's consideration, Bennett pressed the lone elevator button. The call button, completely unresponsive until now, flared with bright white light, followed by the low, mechanical drone of cables engaging.

Vwooom!

"Oh?"

"Looks like it's working after all."

The elevator arrived at the fifth floor, its doors sliding open with a soft hiss. Though the ceiling light flickered erratically, the car appeared intact. Ushering the party inside, Bennett checked the control panel. Just like when they had descended from the prison to the Underground Research Facility, only a single button could be pressed.

The doors slid shut, and the elevator surged upward. Despite having ridden one before, the party members instinctively stiffened against the wall. Watching the digital floor indicator change, Bennett's brow furrowed.

What is this?

The display, which had lingered on 5 for a prolonged ascent, skipped past 6 entirely and abruptly lit up with 7.

Ding!

Before they could process the anomaly, the doors parted. The party stepped out into the hallway with utmost caution. Unlike the pitch-black offices on the floors below, the seventh floor was softly illuminated by recessed ceiling lighting.

The layout felt strangely familiar: massive observation windows stretched across the far wall, framed by rows of intricate electronic consoles. It closely mirrored the control room where they had activated the subterranean train in the Quarantined Laboratory. The only key difference was the tiered spectator seating arranged directly against the glass. The intent to watch some live spectacle was unmistakable.

Bennett walked over to the observation window. Beyond the glass lay a sprawling, cavernous expanse draped in heavy gloom. Activating his Night Vision, he peered through the darkness.

This is...

Their observation lounge was suspended high in the air, attached directly to the vaulted ceiling like a control bridge looking down into an immense testing arena. The floor below was bizarrely partitioned into radically different environments. On one side stood a dense forest crowded with tall trees; opposite it ran a burbling stream. Other simulated habitats sprawled across the floor—a sand-swept desert dune, a snowfield blanketed in white drifts, and a jagged wasteland of cracked boulders without a speck of green vegetation. How such biomes had been engineered beneath a single roof was incomprehensible, but one fact stood clear: mutually exclusive climates had been artificially crammed together in one enclosed space.

"Scout the perimeter," Bennett instructed. "If anything looks suspicious, do not touch it."

"Understood!"

Checking the main console, Bennett discovered an active monitor screen covered in lines of Dungeon Language.

Aside from the numerals, the Dungeon Language was entirely unreadable to him. Unsure of what any of it meant, he naturally refrained from meddling with the keyboard. In the worst-case scenario, touching the wrong command might trigger a self-destruct countdown, just as had happened in the Quarantined Laboratory.

Edgar, who had been peering over the equipment, leaned in close.

"You know, I've been thinking... if we're gonna keep diving into these dungeons, learning this Dungeon Language feels pretty damn mandatory."

"It won't be easy," Bennett murmured. "I've only just begun studying it myself, and it's far harder than—"

Before he could finish, the text on the terminal refreshed with a crisp electronic chime.

"I didn't touch anything!" Edgar blurted out, frantically throwing up his hands in innocent surrender.

Bennett calmly signaled for him to stand down. Standing right beside him, he knew full well that Edgar hadn't laid a finger on the panel.

Instantly, blinding stadium floodlights ignited across the ceiling, illuminating the testing arena below as bright as high noon.

"B-Bennett-nim!"

Hurrying back to the glass, Bennett followed Kyle's pointing hand. A party had just stepped through the main entrance onto the arena floor below—a seven-man scavenger group. Realizing the chamber was thoroughly abnormal, the scavengers were scanning their surroundings with expressions of growing bewilderment and dread.

...You shouldn't have stepped in there.

The scavengers below had no way of hearing his warning. Advancing with measured caution, the group made it roughly a dozen paces inside before reaching the center point.

BANG!

The heavy reinforced blast doors behind them slammed shut like a steel trap. Startled scavengers threw themselves back against the barrier, hammering at the seals, but the massive bulkheads did not budge an inch.

Suspended above the observation windows, an array of overhead screens flickered to life, broadcasting multiple camera angles simultaneously. Some feeds tracked the synthetic biomes of the arena, while others zoomed straight onto the terror-stricken faces of the trapped scavengers. Then, one of the central monitors snapped to an entirely new perspective.

The camera displayed an oversized reinforced kennel tucked into the far wall. Built of heavy metal plates, the structure resembled a bunker designed to house some massive beast. Unlike the floodlit arena, its interior remained cloaked in deep shadow.

Staring at the feed, Bennett's party froze.

From within the pitch-black interior, a single crimson optical sensor flared to life.

"W-what in the world is that...?" Erika gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth.

Emerging from the kennel was a quadrupedal beast forged entirely of burnished alloy and carbon composite—a mechanical dog. Other technical terms might have existed in the dungeon world, but to their eyes, no other description fit.

Clank. Clank.

The heavy metallic thud of its paws seemed to echo right through the reinforced glass. Stepping into the light, the mechanical hound gave its chassis a brisk shake like a living canine, then systematically contracted and extended its fore and hind limbs in sequence. The stretching routine was eerily lifelike yet completely unnatural—and profoundly chilling.

The faces of Bennett's companions turned rigid. While they had seen inert, hollow models on the second floor, the sheer impact of witnessing an operational unit move with predatory grace was on an entirely different scale. Even watching through a glass screen, an overwhelming aura of lethal pressure, unyielding steel, and spine-tingling menace washed over them.

Its single cycloptic sensor burned with piercing crimson light as the machine pivoted, locking its targeting reticle onto the distant scavenger party.

Confronted with an impossible entity that defied all their worldly knowledge, Kyle, Edgar, and Erika stood completely pale. Yet Bennett, having already studied photographic records of this very platform on the lower floors, felt far less shaken.