Dungeon Practice
“Hey! That's mine!!”
“No, it's mine!”
Another peaceful day at the orphanage. Birds chirped away, and the children bickered over trifles appropriate to their age.
“Everyone, that's not allowed. It's wrong to use violence against friends.”
Amon gently scolded them with a kind smile. His absolute popularity among the kids at the daycare center attached to the orphanage ensured they stopped fighting immediately. The children who'd been throwing punches moments ago now apologized to each other.
“Sorry... you take it.”
“No, I'm sorry. I'm fine, so you can have it.”
They promptly admitted their faults and practiced the virtue of yielding. It was a testament to how well Amon had taught them.
Amon watched the pair with a pleased smile. As they shared a reconciliatory hug, he stroked their heads and said,
“What did teacher say you can hit?”
“Heretics, beasts, and monsters only!”
“That's right!”
The children answered brightly, and Amon affectionately patted their heads. Behind him, the cross on the wall reflected the light.
Amon patted their backs, sending them off to play again. Turning around, he said,
“Ah, Director. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Amon turned to see the Squinty Priest, now director of California's Rosebud Orphanage, waiting for him. The priest eyed Amon with dismay and said,
“What are you teaching these kids?”
“The truth?”
“Good lord...”
The priest pressed his forehead, dizzy. What did this man think a daycare center was for? He pondered briefly but shook it off—nothing would change no matter how much he worried.
Shaking off his thoughts, the priest called to Amon.
“Shall we head to the director's office first?”
Amon nodded and followed.
The two entered the director's office on the tenth floor. It was quite modest, befitting a man like the priest whom Amon had handpicked—someone with little greed.
A door led to an adjacent room, chained and crossed over. It was for sealing ghosts or storing exorcism gear, as befitted an exorcist.
Upon entering, Amon pointed at it and said,
“When should I purify it for you? Feels like it's been ages since I did it on my last visit.”
“Since we're on the topic, could you do it after we're done today?”
Most exorcists lacked divine power. They could drive off or seal evil spirits and ghosts, but couldn't purify the strong ones. They usually kept them sealed and called specialists periodically for purification.
But with a divine power generator nearby, the priest had no such issues. Amon didn't know purification spells, but slamming in his overflowing divine power brute-forced it anyway—the spirits purified themselves.
“Sure, right after we're done.”
Amon nodded. The priest wrapped up small talk and got to the point.
“You know I'm an adjunct professor at the seminary, right, Amon?”
“Yes... adjunct professor of exorcism studies?”
“Correct. And external practicum advisor.”
The priest also taught at the seminary. Not a full-time researcher on campus, but an outside practitioner who lectured occasionally. The pay was negligible—purely honorary. The Vatican had “recommended” him for the role, which was basically an order.
Between exorcism duties and now running the orphanage, the priest was stretched thin, but that was beside the point. He was an adjunct professor.
Rubbing his tired eyes, he continued,
“As Sonia mentioned, the seminary students have external practicum coming up soon.”
“In a dungeon, right?”
The seminary trained priests, but also paladins, so it prepared combat practicums for aspiring holy knights. Real fights were impractical—sourcing people to cut or ghosts to hunt was a hassle—so dungeons were standard.
“Yes. And you applied to be safety officer for that dungeon practicum.”
Amon nodded. Students formed teams to periodically clear dungeons, honing paladin skills. That was the point. Safety officers were assigned per team for protection.
Amon had heard from Sonia and applied months ago. But there was a catch.
“As you know, the usual practicum dungeon got cleared.”
“Haha...”
The priest shot Amon a squinty glare. Amon laughed dryly and averted his eyes.
As the priest said, the seminary had used Saddark Dungeon for years. Well-mapped, full of undead perfect for testing divine power, and close to campus. Ideal—until someone conquered it.
After Amon beheaded the lich, the dungeon withered. The lich's stored mana kept spawning undead for a while, but as it depleted, monsters stopped appearing. By Sonia's practicum time, it had shut down completely.
Not really Amon's fault—just bad timing for the staff, hit with extra work from the sudden collapse.
“Sigh. Sorry, I'm just tired. Anyway, I've been scouting dungeons with this scorecard for months.”
The priest handed over the scorecard. Items like suitable difficulty for students, monsters vulnerable to holy magic. The notes showed his thorough surveys.
Atop the stack was his top pick.
Score: 98/104
Main Monsters: Venomous insects and swamp ecosystem types (including plants).
Dungeon Origin: Mutant outbreak from failed genetic modification.
Difficulty: Low-tier. Slightly challenging for students.
Divine Power Vulnerability: Low physical threat; poison fully purified by holy magic. Very high safety.
Notes: Central nest continuously spawns mutants. Specialized for survival, not lethality—threat rated low.
Amon read it to the end. Nothing unusual. As the priest assessed, no signs of trouble...
Slap!
Amon smacked his own cheek hard.
'You idiot. Why flag it like that!'
Too complacent in peacetime? Amon swiftly self-reflected.
The priest stared at him like he'd seen a weirdo, but Amon's oddities weren't new, so he let it slide.
Reflection over, Amon returned to the topic.
“So, why show me this?”
“Before entering the dungeon, the school sent an official request through me. Normally over meals at the cafeteria, but... you hate that stuff, right?”
Amon nodded. He respected procedures and etiquette but preferred cutting the formalities for the essence. Same building, no need to detour—straight to business was better.
Amon dipped his head in thanks for the consideration. The priest acknowledged and relayed the school's stance.
“The request: the school wants you handling safety for multiple teams.”
“Why?”
“Too few applicants.”
“Ah.”
Amon got it. Safety officer wasn't popular—borderline avoided. Low pay, babysit students, lawsuits if anything went wrong. Skilled enough for dungeon safety? Better clearing dungeons solo for ten times the cash.
Usually for prestige, service points, or side-quest vibes while dungeoning anyway. Always short-staffed, filled with TAs or grads precariously.
This year? Way short. New dungeon raised risks; even regulars bailed. Grads couldn't cover. Desperate school begged Amon for multiples.
“They rate your combat prowess highly.”
No objective merc metrics in modern society, but rumors spread. Amon's rep was solid; platinum rank proved it—clean 100+ quests, no major incidents. Perfect for students.
“They'll pay per team at standard rates.”
“Order or request?”
“Request, I'd say.”
No coercive language. No penalties for refusal. Rare politeness—with reason. If Amon were nobodies, they'd invoke authority. But they knew his backers.
Not full grasp on Amon-Recetio ties via Kashi, but enough vibe. School treaded carefully.
Amon weighed it, conclusion quick.
“Up to four teams, I can manage.”
His current power covered that. Priest relayed immediately. Reply minutes later.
“Sufficient.”
Amon e-signed the digital contract file.
“Five per team. Four teams. Confirmed.”
“Include Sonia's team, obviously.”
“Naturally.”
Easy favor—no fairness issue, as safety wasn't grading.
Thus, Amon stumbled into four-team duty. Chatted casually with priest, then back to temp teaching.
“Hey now! You can't break a friend's things! The only idols of heresy you can smash!”
The director eyed Amon's retreating back with cold resignation.
Time passed to the eve of practicum. Amon had warned the orphanage kids he'd be away for safety duty. They wailed and tantrumed—he felt bad, but unavoidable.
With their send-off, he headed to Recetio Corporation. Kashi had summoned him.
Quick body scan.
Beep—
His dimensional coat, packed with swords and gear, triggered. A guard drew weapon.
Boss panicked, smacked the guard's head.
“You idiot! Know who this is?!”
Others dragged him off for a beating. Only ended after Amon said it was fine.
The boss, who'd whacked him, bowed repeatedly.
“Sorry, Executive Director!”
“I'm not a director.”
“Ah, sorry, Mr. Amon. New guy from yesterday...”
“No issue, I understand.”
Amon wouldn't fault zeal for Kashi's safety. Entering armed was the anomaly.
He glanced at the beaten guard—dusty but unscathed. Showy WWE beatdown: apology for the newbie's protocol zeal, plea for mercy if offended.
Message received.
“I'm truly fine—just no fallout for him.”
“Understood.”
Predictably WWE, no punishment. Minor handover maybe.
Post-happening, Amon entered Kashi's office. Sonia, arrived early, lounged on the sofa reading. Weekday off for pre-practicum rest.
They greeted him: Sonia brightly,
“Good work!”
Kashi softly,
“You're here?”
Amon sat after replies. Kashi finished work, rose, punched code into corner safe.
Beep beep.
Their first meeting date. Safe opened. She pulled two small wooden boxes.
“Finally got what you wanted. Was tough.”
Her face beamed—gifter's joy.
Boxes down, Amon pulled his phone before opening.
“Transferring payment.”
“Don't. From the dungeon you cleared—no need.”
“I have money.”
“Say that in front of me?”
“Yeah, bad call.”
Bickering settled at 30% cig price.
'Gonna share later anyway—fees wasted... stingy.'
Kashi grumbled inwardly, kept composed. Payment done, Amon opened eagerly.
Two golden essences.
“Finally.”
The ultimate combo in Amon's mind.