Making headlines would be the worst possible outcome for the newly established and still unstable Focalors Familia.
Faen did not fear trouble.
But he hated it.
All he wanted was to grow quietly—at least until he reached Lv.3, when he would have enough strength and confidence to face whatever trials Orario threw at him.
While the Focalors Familia was filled with optimism and anticipation, the atmosphere within the Loki Familia was far more gloomy.
With Faen's departure, the effect of [The Abyss That Gazes Back] ended. The Dungeon stopped spawning new Slimes and Hilichurls.
When the Loki Familia members entered the Dungeon full of enthusiasm, they quickly discovered that reality differed drastically from the Guild's description.
After half a day of searching, they found only a handful of Slimes and Hilichurls that had survived the earlier outbreak.
"What the hell is this? Where are all the monsters? Weren't there supposed to be tons of new species?" Tiona swung her massive twin blade, Urga, idly striking sparks off the stone wall.
"Tch. Waste of time," Bete muttered, leaning against the wall with a scowl.
Even so, Riveria ordered everyone to meticulously record the monsters they encountered—their attack patterns, weaknesses, and drop items—and submit a full report to the Guild.
But as for the true cause of the Dungeon's strange disturbance, they were completely at a loss.
That brief yet violent monster surge felt like nothing more than the Dungeon letting out a bizarre "burp"—arriving suddenly and disappearing just as quickly, leaving only confusion in its wake.
---
After a night's rest, yesterday's exhaustion vanished.
Their astonishing Status growth had transformed into renewed fighting spirit.
At dawn the next morning, Faen and Robin set out once more.
Their first destination was the Hephaestus Familia's weapon shop in District Eight.
Faen's goal was clear.
He casually sold his nearly broken longsword from yesterday's battle to an apprentice in the shop. Then, using most of their newly earned money, he purchased a complete set of fresh equipment:
A well-crafted standard longsword with a straight blade and balanced weight.
Light armor made of hardened leather reinforced with metal plates, including a breastplate, bracers, and greaves.
None of the equipment possessed special enchantments, but its durability far exceeded the common goods found in ordinary weapon shops.
Even so, it cost them over 40,000 valis.
From there, they headed straight to the Dian Cecht Familia's apothecary.
Unlike the rugged aesthetic of Hephaestus Familia's forge, this shop was pristine and orderly. The air carried the fragrant scent of mixed herbs, and the attendants in white uniforms moved with quiet professionalism.
Faen didn't even glance at the gleaming high-grade elixirs displayed on nearby shelves—nor at the outrageously expensive panaceas.
Those were far beyond their current means and unnecessary at this stage.
His primary objective was Mind recovery potions.
He intended to begin training his Magic stat in future expeditions, and as a pure mage, Robin's Mind capacity was essential for sustained combat.
In the end, they purchased:
Ten small Mind recovery potions
Five basic healing potions
Their coin pouch visibly deflated once again.
The 70,000 valis that had seemed like a fortune the previous night vanished in an instant—and even dipped into Faen's private savings.
...
Fully equipped at last, they arrived beneath Babel Tower, preparing to descend into the Dungeon once more.
They were immediately surrounded.
"Adventurers! Do you need a supporter? I'm strong, I can carry all your loot!"
"Choose me! I know the upper floors very well. I can guide you!"
These were the supporters who gathered at the Dungeon entrance.
With sharp eyes, they immediately noticed Faen's brand-new, undamaged gear—and Robin's obviously high-value staff.
It was a clear signal: a small but decently funded party with limited experience. Ideal employers.
Amid the noisy sales pitches, Faen's gaze was drawn to a small figure squeezing through the crowd.
She was extremely petite—a pallum girl with dog-like features.
Fluffy brown short hair. Matching ears and tail. Large eyes that gleamed with sharp intelligence and longing that didn't quite match her fragile appearance.
"Um… Adventurer-sama!"
Her voice was timid, but her eyes were resolute.
"My name is Liliruca Arde. I'm a supporter from the Soma Familia. Please hire me. I'm cheap, and I can handle any dirty or exhausting work."
Liliruca Arde.
At the sound of that name, something stirred in Faen's heart.
Though many memories from his past life had faded over the years, he still remembered her. One of the core members of the original protagonist's party.
He knew what kind of person she currently was.
Before meeting the boy who would change her fate, Liliruca Arde was, by most standards, a terrible person.
Because of her tragic childhood, she deeply resented and distrusted adventurers. She used her pitiful appearance to gain sympathy, then cheated her employers in the Dungeon—stealing their equipment and loot.
She didn't murder.
But she had harmed more than a few adventurers.
Now that she had approached them on her own, those seemingly innocent eyes were likely fixed on Robin's expensive-looking staff.
Faen acknowledged that in the future, she would become an excellent tactician, a brilliant commander, and undeniably a cute, petite girl.
But he wasn't interested.
He wasn't attracted to lolis.
Nor was he a self-sacrificing hero eager to save everyone.
There was already a goddess at home. And beside him stood Robin—whose appearance and temperament could outshine even most gods.
Very few women could stir in him the desire to actively pursue or approach them.
More importantly, his current priority was low-profile growth—not inviting someone who might backstab him and steal his assets at any moment.
So Faen merely glanced at her once and replied in a flat, emotionless tone:
"We don't need a supporter."
The simple sentence instantly quieted the surrounding noise.
The other supporters, hearing his firm refusal, sighed in disappointment and dispersed.
There was no point lingering.
Faen's attitude made it clear—there was no room for negotiation.
===================
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