The drainage pipe in the parking lot dripped all night.
Allen woke once at 3:00 AM. His head was propped against the concrete pillar, his neck stiff at an awkward angle. The blue light from the diamond-shaped rift pulsed steadily. He shifted his position and drifted back to sleep.
His second wake-up call came at 6:00 AM. The management panel automatically popped up an external monitoring log—at 4:11 AM, two light dots appeared briefly near the warehouse, stayed for ninety seconds, and then vanished. Titan's Shield's night shift. But now, at 6:00, the warehouse was deserted.
The folding table was gone. The camping chairs were gone. The yellow"CAUTION" tape had been ripped off the corrugated iron walls and tossed into a crumpled heap in the gravel.
Allen zoomed out the surveillance feed.
The warehouse's main iron door stood ajar. The blue-gold badge of Titan's Shield—the one Wayne had slapped on the first day—was gone. Only a circular adhesive mark remained on the metal surface.
They had retreated.
Allen scrolled through the playback logs. At 2:43 AM, a black SUV had stopped on the main street of the warehouse district. Two men stepped out. The panel tagged one of them: Jason Collins. The other had no record in the"Customer Files," but the system flagged his level: D-rank.
Jason and the D-rank took twelve minutes to pack up. They folded the table, moved the water tank, and gathered the tape. Finally, Jason stood before the door, reaching out to peel the badge off the iron.
His movements were slow. It wasn't because it was stuck—the badge was magnetic; it came off with a pull. It was Jason himself who was slow. He flipped the badge over in his hand, stared at it for a few seconds, and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.
The two got in the car. It drove away.
The warehouse district returned to what it had been for three years: abandoned, empty, and forgotten.
Wayne Tucker's order. No official guild process. No announcement. No explanation. Just a verbal command executed in the dead of night.
Allen closed the playback.
He stood up from the pillar labeled P2-17. His knees and back protested simultaneously—six hours on concrete proved that a twenty-two-year-old body wasn't made of iron.
He pulled his phone from his pocket. The DeepRift forum notifications had piled into a three-digit red dot.
He ignored the forum for a moment and opened the BP summary on his management panel.
[BP Income (Last 24 Hours):+7,100]
[Current BP Balance: 14,150]
Wayne's solo run last night had contributed 4,200. The remaining 2,900 came from independent adventurers during the day—three teams entering via the auxiliary passage, plus Titan's Shield's final routine raid.
Allen calculated for three seconds.
Titan's Shield was gone. The warehouse main entrance was no longer blockaded. Both the auxiliary passage and the main entrance were now open.
The bottleneck for customer flow had vanished.
He opened his phone. DeepRift forum. Brooklyn Section.
The thread about"Titan's Shield captain crawling out of an F-rank dungeon and kneeling for five minutes" already had over four thousand comments. It was ranked third on the trending list.
Ranked first was the video of the boy getting his arm broken. Twenty thousand comments. The GWA official account had replied with a template message:"We have noted the situation and are investigating." They were currently being flamed across eight hundred floors of replies.
Allen scrolled down two pages.
The hype was decaying. The comment rate had dropped from thirty per minute last night to six per minute now. The"shelf life" of this public outcry had about twelve to eighteen hours left.
It was enough.
Allen registered a new forum ID.
Input box. Username.
He typed:"Architect_00".
His finger hovered for a second. It was too blunt. If Robert Chen searched for"Architect" related IDs on the forum...
No.
Allen hit backspace, then reconsidered the name.
Robert Chen would find him sooner or later. The business card was already tucked under his door. An A-rank scout had already scanned the core energy signature of the dungeon. Some things weren't worth the energy of hiding.
But voluntary exposure and involuntary exposure were two different things.
Voluntary exposure was a statement. Involuntary exposure was a liability.
"Architect_00".
Confirm registration.
Allen typed in the post editor. He deleted and rewrote it three times. The fourth version was final.
Title:[NOTICE] Brooklyn Warehouse Dungeon— Now Open to All Awakeners
Body:
This dungeon is now open to all ranks of Awakeners. No entry restrictions, no guild thresholds, no discovery rights disputes.
Entrance Coordinates: Inside the main warehouse door, Red Hook District; auxiliary entrance located at the adjacent underground parking lot, B2.
The first ten clearers each day will receive extra quality rewards (clearing order is automatically recorded by the system).
The dungeon has completed its upgrade. Current configuration: 15 combat rooms (including 2 Boss encounters), 1 hidden treasure room. Difficulty range: F to F+.
STATEMENT: This dungeon is not the exclusive asset of any guild. This is an INDEPENDENT DUNGEON.
— Architect_00
Allen checked the wording. Clean. No unnecessary fluff. Like a commercial bulletin.
"Independent Dungeon."
These words did not exist in the GWA's dungeon classification system. All known dungeons were either"Naturally Occurring" under government regulation or"Guild-Managed" under major organizations. There was no third category.
He was creating the third category.
Post.
The thread passed the forum's auto-filter in three seconds. Allen locked his phone and walked to the parking lot exit. Outside the gap in the shutter, the Brooklyn morning was grey, smelling of diesel from passing garbage trucks.
He went to the corner convenience store, bought two cans of Coke, a sandwich, and a bottle of water. His phone vibrated eleven times in his pocket on the way back.
He squatted back down by pillar P2-17. He tore open the plastic sandwich wrap and took a bite. It was ice-cold—the convenience store's fridge was set too low.
He opened his phone.
Forty minutes since the post went live. Three hundred comments. Heat was rising at fifteen comments per minute.
The top comment—posted nine seconds in:
"Hold on.'Independent Dungeon'? What the hell is this new breed?"
Second comment:
"Architect_00—that ID. Is this person claiming to be the architect of this dungeon??"
Third:
"Everyone stay calm. This post might be bait. Who can guarantee this isn't another guild's marketing stunt?"
Fourth:
"Upstairs, did you even read the other thread? Titan's Shield's D-rank captain came out of this dungeon on his knees. You think any guild would use their own captain as a 'marketing sample'?"
Twelfth:
"So let me get this straight. An anonymous ID named 'Architect_00' claims to run an 'Independent Dungeon.' This place is F-rank but drops D-rank gear. Titan's Shield tried to lock it down and got scared off. Now this person is opening it to everyone. What kind of plot is this? A novel?"
Twenty-third:
"I don't care if it's a novel. D-rank gear. F-rank entry. Screw it. I'm going today. Anyone want to party up?"
Allen scrolled as he chewed his sandwich. The cold bread and ham formed a mediocre lump in his mouth.
The comments had naturally split into three camps.
The first camp:"The Chargers." Low-level independent adventurers, mostly E and F ranks. To them, a dungeon without a guild threshold was a lifeline.
The second camp:"The Watchers." Mid-level adventurers, D to C ranks. They were waiting for more info, especially details on the"hidden treasure room" and the true identity of"Architect_00."
The third camp:"The Skeptics." Including several verified guild members and GWA-related IDs. Their questions focused on one point: the legal status of an"Independent Dungeon." There was no category for this in the GWA regulations. No category meant no regulatory framework. No framework meant...
Allen put his phone down.
It meant a Grey Zone.
The GWA couldn't regulate him with existing laws because the law never anticipated a human creating a dungeon.
But the GWA wouldn't ignore it either. Robert Chen's card was still tucked in his phone case.
Allen finished his sandwich. He crumpled the wrapper into the empty Coke can.
The management panel flashed a new prompt.
[External Visitor Detected. Warehouse Main Entrance— 3 Awakener light dots. Ranks: E-rank x2, F-rank x1.]
The first batch.
Less than an hour after the post.
Allen stood up and walked to the diamond-shaped opening of the auxiliary passage.
He didn't need to go to the warehouse to greet them. The main entrance was open. The dungeon would run itself. The Phantom Mirror would scan them automatically. The clearing rewards would be issued automatically.
He needed to do something else.
Allen jumped into the auxiliary passage. Test Mode.
His current status:
[Allen Grey]
[Level: E-rank]
[BP: 14,150]
E-rank. Two skills.
Not enough.
The test mode instance loaded. Allen stood at the start of Room 1. This time, he didn't clear from the beginning—he used admin privileges to skip straight to Room 10. The Shadow Knight.
Nine minutes. Clear. The Shadow Knight dropped something new this time.
[Skill Drop!— Shadow Sense (F-rank)]
[Effect: Passive. In dark or low-light environments, perception range is extended by 300%. Can sense the position and movement direction of all living beings within 15 meters.]
Y.
The third skill. Passive. No activation required, no resources consumed. From this second on, darkness was no longer darkness to Allen's senses.
He pushed on. Room 11, Skeleton Swordmasters. Room 12, Shadow Hounds.
The Shadow Hound pack in Room 13 dropped his fourth skill on his fourth attempt.
[Skill Drop!— Predator's Instinct (F-rank)]
[Effect: Passive. After locking onto a target, attack accuracy increases by 40%, and the target's weak points can be perceived (marked by a faint red cursor). Only one target can be locked at a time.]
Y.
Four skills. Two offensive, two defensive. Two active, two passive.
Allen exited Test Mode. He checked his experience bar—87%. Just a little more.
He jumped back in and ran another cycle.
From Room 10 to Room 15, the Mirror Knight. The Mirror Knight replicated Allen's E-rank attributes, counter-attacking with Shadow Step, Stone Skin, and the exact same moves.
Allen took six minutes to defeat his own reflection.
He used the same method Wayne did—using things not recorded by the system.
Wayne used street-fighting kicks.
Allen used pathing anticipation. He had designed the Mirror Knight's AI. He knew the learning delay was 3 seconds. He knew the reflection mechanism had a 0.2-second decision interval after replicating a skill. He knew where the Boss's weaknesses were because he had put them there himself.
A designer playing his own game always has backdoors.
[Test Mode Cleared. EXP Gained:+1,600.]
The bar hit the limit.
[Level Up! E-rank→ E+ rank]
[Attributes increased. STR: E / AGI: E+/ VIT: E / INT: D-/ PER: D / LCK:???]
E+.
Three and a half days. From"???" at the Awakening ceremony to E+.
Allen stepped out of the test mode, sitting by the auxiliary passage.
The data on the management panel was refreshing.
In the past two hours, twenty-three Awakeners had entered through the warehouse main door and the parking lot auxiliary passage.
Seven teams.
Three cleared. Three wiped in Rooms 7 to 9. One team wiped in the Mirror Knight Boss room—four D-rank adventurers, decimated by their own reflections.
BP was growing at a speed he had never seen.
[BP Income (Past 2 Hours):+5,400]
[Current BP Balance: 16,750 (after maintenance fees)]
Allen opened the"Customer Files." Twenty-three complete System panels scanned by the Phantom Mirror. Ranks ranging from F to D. Classes covering Warrior, Mage, Assassin, Ranger, and Healer.
He spent twenty minutes scanning the data.
The pattern was obvious.
Assassin-type Awakeners were universally missing agility-boosting accessories. Warriors lacked damage-reduction armor enchantments. One-third of the Mages had empty weapon slots—the price of staves in the market had been inflated to ridiculous levels.
A supply and demand gap.
If he could control the loot types...
A new unlock notification popped up in the bottom right of the management panel. Blue border.
[New Function Unlocked!— Loot Customization]
[Description: The Dungeon Architect can specify the gear type, attribute bias, and class adaptation for clearing rewards. Each customization consumes extra BP (Base cost: 200 BP per clear reward).]
Allen stared at the panel for five seconds.
Loot Customization.
He could make an Assassin drop an agility dagger upon clearing. A Warrior could get damage-reduction bracers. A Mage could get a staff.
Everyone would get exactly what they needed most from his dungeon.
They would come back. Once wouldn't be enough. Twice wouldn't be enough. They would bring their friends. Their teammates. Their entire guilds.
Because no natural dungeon could do this. Natural dungeon drops were random. A warrior might have to run a place ten times before finding a piece of usable gear.
Allen's dungeon wasn't random.
Allen's dungeon knew what you wanted.
He set the first scheme in the Loot Customization panel—auto-matching based on the class scanned by the Phantom Mirror.
[Scheme"Auto-Adapt" Saved. Extra BP cost: 200 BP per reward issue.]
His phone vibrated.
Allen checked it. His private messages on DeepRift were exploding. Over sixty unread.
Most were asking for directions."Where is the parking lot entrance?""How do I use the auxiliary passage?""Who are you?"
Two were different.
The first one.
Sender ID: GreyCrow_Lena.
"That post you made? Architect_00 is you?"
Allen didn't reply.
The second one.
Sender ID was a string of gibberish. Registration date: Today. Posts: 0.
"Architect_00. Interesting choice of name.— R.C."
Allen's thumb stopped on the screen.
R.C.
Robert Chen.
He had registered a forum ID just to send this message.
Allen flipped his phone over and rested it on his knee. The drainage pipe in the parking lot continued to drip. The blue light from the rift cast ripples across the concrete pillar.
The external surveillance on the management panel flashed a new light dot.
Warehouse direction. A car. Black. Government plates.
The dot stopped on the main street of the warehouse district. A man stepped out.
Allen zoomed the feed to the maximum.
Grey suit. The left cuff button was half a turn tighter than the right.
Robert Chen didn't walk toward the warehouse.
He stood by the roadside, holding his phone, looking at the screen.
He watched for about thirty seconds.
Then he put the phone in his pocket and looked up.
He wasn't looking at the sky. He was looking toward—the parking lot.
Allen was two hundred meters away on the B2 level. Concrete walls, two floors of ceiling, and the entire structural skeleton of the building stood between them.
Robert Chen couldn't possibly see him.
But in that direction—
The external monitoring captured Robert's right hand movement. His index and middle fingers joined, tapping his temple twice.
A tiny, almost imperceptible gesture.
Allen saw a new red alert on the management panel.
[WARNING— EXTERNAL SCAN DETECTED]
[A-rank Awakened Ability detected performing a long-range scan on the auxiliary passage.]
[Scan Type: Lifeform Perception / Energy Residue Tracking]
[Scan Range: 500m Radius]
Allen's back left the concrete pillar.
Robert Chen stood by the road. Two hundred meters away. Through layers of parking lot concrete.
He was scanning.
500-meter radius.
Allen was within range.
The red alert continued to flash. The final line:
[Scan Result Estimate: Scanner has located the auxiliary passage entrance.]
On the screen, Robert Chen lowered his hand.
He took a step toward the parking lot.