Howling Darkness
“What do we do, what do we do about our Amon!”
The day he’d pushed his soles to the limit fighting those cleaners and ended up in the hospital. Sonia’s wail echoed through the private room as she rushed in after getting the call.
Watching his lover sob like that, the man himself felt her cry catch in her throat and retreat. Thanks to her tears, Amon regained his composure and soothed her.
“I’m really fine. It’s not dangerous like last time.”
“The doctor said you might never walk again!”
“That’s just them covering their asses if something goes wrong later. It won’t, so don’t worry.”
“But... but...”
Her reaction was a little different from when he’d scorched his side last time. And understandably so—back then, he’d tried to handle it secretly without telling her, leading to that mess. But this time, it was an injury from work, so it hit differently.
‘You knew getting hurt came with the mercenary gig anyway.’
Of course, he didn’t say that out loud. It wasn’t the right thing to tell a worried lover.
All Amon could do while her tears soaked his hospital gown was lend her his body heat, letting her feel he was alive. He stroked her soft hair and left it to time.
Only once she’d calmed down did he explain what happened in the dungeon: discovering the cleaners, how they’d attacked first, and how he’d pushed himself to finish them off as they fled.
“Did you have to?”
Sonia cut in. Rationally, she understood. This world was brutal, grudges tangled deep, and fewer loose ends meant less anxiety. In a place where an enemy once crossed you couldn’t be trusted until one of you was in the ground, Amon’s choice wasn’t entirely wrong. Logically, taking a treatable injury to tie up loose ends was the smart play.
But logic was one thing. Emotions didn’t bend to reason, so Amon could only muster a wry smile.
He soothed her again and continued. “Looks like we got tangled in something shady.”
“Again?”
“Yeah.”
Sonia’s eyes narrowed. Realizing what that look meant, Amon raised both hands.
“That’s why I’m telling you this time.”
“You won’t go alone, right?”
“I’ll let you know if I need to. Until then, it’s not solid, so focus on your studies.”
“Fine, if that’s how it is.”
With that, she drew the curtain. A flick of her fingers summoned a silence barrier, and she asked, “So. What’d you get mixed up in this time?”
“Dunno.”
When Amon had tried securing evidence, most of it was already ash. Figuring out who hired those cleaners or what records were left at the site would be tough.
“But our mage is damn capable in all sorts of ways. Pulled info outta fragmented words.”
With a dash of his past-life knowledge poured into the dual-aspect mage’s restoration magic, intel had gushed forth. Maybe speculation, but highly plausible stuff.
“It’s tied to how that dungeon of ours was born.”
“Uh... Wardoom, was it?”
“Spot on.”
Saddark Dungeon—Wardoom for short. The tale of Wardoom’s birth was fairly well-known.
Before it became a dungeon, the mega-corp had sold magic engravings and magitech gear. The research that sparked their downfall? Magic engravings.
And that research was infamous. Even Sonia knew the details of what tanked the company.
“They got greedy, tried making an undead legion with engravings, and it all went to hell, right?”
“Yep. Like you said, they hid spyware in what looked like basic engravings. If the recipient died, they’d rise as undead loyal to the company.”
“Then the chairman and lab director backstabbed each other and mutual-destructed.”
That part was common knowledge. Crystal-clear on the CCTV in the basement level-one security room.
But the real issue came after. Even inside the silence barrier, Sonia whispered like someone might overhear.
“You’re saying it’s tied to how the lich was born?”
“Bingo.”
The company’s collapse was public record. But a lich popping up outta nowhere, turning the place into a dungeon? Zero info.
Folks guessed the chairman or lab director revived via their own engravings, but no proof meant no certainty.
The dual-aspect mage’s intel zeroed in on the lich’s origin.
“The lich... was sabotage.”
Corpses draw hyenas when a company folds. But if it doesn’t turn dungeon, no special dungeon laws apply. The tech and data from a “normal” bankruptcy get auctioned off to other corps.
Problem? It all costs money. So the corp behind this cooked up a scheme.
“Used the undeading tech on someone, turned the company into a dungeon. Boom—dungeon laws kick in, tech’s free for the taking.”
“Then the corp using that tech now is the culprit, right?”
Solid logic from Sonia. But Amon wasn’t blind to it.
“Here’s the thing... too many corps.”
“Ah.”
The fallen corp was huge, with tech ripe for the picking. Some sold to enviro-firms, some scooped by arms dealers. Looters ransacked the place, hawking tech everywhere—leaving 137 suspect corps.
“The first to use the tech?”
“If I were a mega-chairman, I’d stagger deployment on purpose.”
“Fair point.”
Amon wrapped up. Puzzle pieces clicked.
No wonder the cleaners were twitchy. Grabbing tech from a dungeon vs. a self-destructed corp? Worlds apart. Could mean legal hammers swinging, shaking the company’s foundations.
“If this leaks, rivals’ll pounce like it’s candy.”
Laws were toothless for plebs, but for corps? Shields to block foes legally, spears to stab. In corp wars, they worked fine.
Whoever the black hand was, exposure meant lawsuits galore. Could lose monopolies, eat crippling fines, teeter on collapse.
Hence the evidence wipe at all costs.
“Got it.”
Sonia tapped Amon’s bed with a finger.
“Why do you always end up in this crap?”
“Always? Twice so far.”
“Normal folks don’t get tangled twice—especially not with mega-corps.”
“...”
Amon shut up. Strictly speaking, plenty got tangled once. They just vanished quietly before a second round. Amon’s “special,” earning the privilege(?) of round two.
Which meant he wasn’t normal. Sonia was right.
Her sigh made his shoulders twitch.
“So, you’re really not going solo this time?”
“Promise. If I need backup, you’re first call.”
“Good enough.”
No room for compromise. Hickzen Group proved corps were tenacious. They’d hush personal damage if it didn’t pencil out, but Amon and Sonia’s messes didn’t compute that way.
One side dead or ruined. No sitting ducks here, no reason to. They plotted next steps right away.
“Got a plan? Like last time?”
“Eh... ‘Plan’ might be generous. No intel yet, so gather some. Before they come gunning for us.”
“Leak to media first, hit ’em preemptively?”
“Without pinpointing, you’d make enemies of every corp.”
Wardoom’s tech was scattered wide. Blasting it public without a specific target? Every user corp dogpiles you.
“Frame it on one corp. Others’ll side with us.”
Focus fire lets innocents(?) deny knowledge. Hell, the real culprit crumbling under blame? Others play victim hard, help eagerly.
Sonia nodded.
“Clear. So nailing the black hand’s key. How?”
“Ask.”
“Who.”
“Who else.”
Amon pulled up the wiki on Wardoom’s boss, the lich.
“Ask the source itself, right?”
A few days later, fully recovered, Amon rejoined the party.
The members welcomed their leader’s return.
“Sorry. You guys skipped dungeons without me? Didn’t have to.”
“Couldn’t. Run into cleaners without you? Nah.”
Amon chuckled at the water buffalo tank’s reply. Every party member had eaten dirt before—safety first.
Barbarian mercs or explorers might call ’em cowards, but Amon dubbed it wisdom.
“Still, no cash without me.”
> No sweat there.
> Took light gigs ourselves.
“Made our teamwork smoother too. Even cooked up a combo move—show ya later.”
The dual-aspect mage chattered beside the sniper. The ogre silently thumbs-upped.
The heartwarming scene brought a smile to Amon’s lips unbidden.
Kashi sidled up behind, slinging an arm over his shoulder.
“So, leader. Our goal? You said there’s a way to keep those ‘black hands’ from lopping our heads off?”
Amon scanned the party. No one bolted. Skipping pep talks about “escape if you want,” he dove into the op.
Nothing fancy. “They spot us, we die. So we clear the dungeon first.”
Reactions varied.
“Whew. Corps behind, lich ahead.”
> Perfect. Honorable death or mud-slinging life.
“Vox! I’m living honorably!”
“Live dogs beat dead lions, they say. So surviving’s honorable, per Vox?”
No fear. Confidence brimmed.
Last, Kashi, arm-in-arm: “Meeting you turned my life into a rollercoaster.”
“Plague god, huh?”
“Plague god?”
“Old East Asian saying.”
“Japan?”
“Chosun. Or Japan too?”
Chatting nonsense, the party checked gear.
Saddark Dungeon speedrun. New content hype had Amon’s heart racing.