"He contacted you?" Lena's question still echoed in the concrete of the parking lot. Allen flipped his phone screen down for three seconds, then flipped it back up.
SnakeBite's private message was still lit up. "Name your price."
He didn't reply. He exited the private message interface and locked the screen.
"He's not contacting me. He's contacting Architect_00."
Lena's boots sank into the concrete. The six-meter distance hadn't changed.
"Victor Stone doesn't distinguish between the two. He wants the dungeon, not the forum ID."
Allen shoved his phone back into his pocket. The bandage on his left thigh loosened slightly as he squatted and stood up, the yellow stain of iodine seeping through the fabric.
"You've dealt with Black Snake?"
Lena didn't answer immediately. Her right hand rose from the leather buckle of her dagger at her waist and rested on her left forearm—an instinctive defensive stance. Not against Allen. Against what that name brought.
"Before the Gray Ravens were formed, Guts worked for Black Serpent for eight months."
Allen waited.
"When he left, Victor Stone had his Awakened Registration Certificate confiscated for three months. Without the certificate, he couldn't accept missions, enter dungeons, or buy or sell Awakened equipment. Three months. Guts survived by carrying goods at a convenience store."
She paused.
"That was just a D-rank warrior resigning. What you have is worth ten thousand times more than a D-rank warrior." Four drops of water dripped from the parking lot drainpipe. Allen mentally translated Lina's words into data.
Victor Stone's logic: control. Not cooperation, not a transaction. It's turning you into his asset. "Name your price" isn't asking for a price; it's measuring—measuring the size of your coffin.
Allen pulled his phone back from his hoodie pocket. Not to check private messages. He opened the management panel.
The passive scanning of dungeon awareness continued running in the background. All dungeon signals within a five-kilometer radius were marked on the domain view. Three E-rank natural dungeons. A D-rank—Rat's Nest—has just erupted, its core energy is zero, and it's in a dormant state.
There's another one.
A yellow marker on the management panel flashes faster than the others.
NYC-BK-0512. "Ash Sewers". E-rank. Location: Northwest corner of Red Hook District, underground of the old sewage treatment plant.
Allen clicks on the details.
[Ash Sewers · NYC-BK-0512] [Rank: E-rank] [Status: Active · Monster Density 72% (Medium-High)] [Jurisdiction Status: GWA Registered—Acting Guild: Black Serpent Guild]
[Core Stability: 89%] Managed by Black Serpent Guild.
GWA's dungeon management regulations allow guilds of a certain strength to apply for "management" of natural dungeons—responsible for regular cleaning, maintaining entrance security, and reporting abnormal data. In exchange, the managing guild enjoys priority access to the dungeon and 70% of its resources.
The Black Serpent Guild manages three Natural Dungeons in Brooklyn. Ash Sewers is one of them.
The "core upgrade material" Allen needs—a fragment of the Dungeon Heart from a Natural Dungeon—lies deep within those dungeons.
To upgrade his own dungeon, he must enter someone else's.
And that "someone else" happens to be Victor Stone, who's been eyeing him.
Allen closes the management panel.
"You said the Gray Ravens take freelance work." Lina shifted her weight from her right foot to her left. A slight movement. Alert but not hostile.
"Check the job details."
"E-rank Natural Dungeon. Ash Sewers. I need the fragment of the Dungeon Heart." Lina's foot-shifting motion stops.
"That's Black Serpent territory."
"I know."
"You just received an invitation from Victor Stone, and you're already going to troll his place?"
Allen pushes up his glasses. The indentation on his nose shifts.
"He said 'name your price.' I'm showing him what my price is." Lina stares at him. The blue light from the parking lot cast a thin line across the zipper of her tactical uniform.
"You're crazy."
"Maybe."
"An E-rank dungeon, and you're just a D-rank—"
"That's why I need you." The words fell onto the concrete floor between them. A drop of water from the drainpipe landed right on the edge of the blue light.
Lina's right hand returned to the dagger's leather buckle. This time, it wasn't for defense. It was habit. She always touched her weapon before making a decision.
"What's the reward?" Allen opened the loot customization interface on his management panel. He didn't hide it from Lina. A semi-transparent blue panel floated between them, listing equipment types, attribute biases, and class suitability.
Lina's gaze was fixed on the panel.
"You can control loot?"
"I can get you what you need most from my dungeons. Every time." Lina's hand slid off the dagger's leather buckle.
Allen pulled up Lina's client profile on the panel—data scanned by the Phantom Clone Mirror. C-rank Assassin. Agility A-directional deviation. His equipment inventory was missing a crucial item: a perception-related accessory. Without perception bonuses, even with her lightning-fast reaction speed, there would be blind spots.
He flipped the data over for Lina to see.
"You're missing a perception accessory. A C-grade or higher perception necklace averages 12,000 on the Awakened market. You can't afford it."
Lina didn't speak.
"Run me through the Ash Sewers. After you come back, clear my dungeon once. The drop should be a custom C-grade perception necklace, with attributes biased towards agility and perception."
Allen closed the panel. The blue light disappeared. The parking lot darkened again, leaving only the eerie blue light from the diamond-shaped opening illuminating their feet.
Lina stood there. Six meters away. The bloodstains on the crescent dagger's leather buckle had dried, their color indistinguishable in the darkness.
"What type of monsters are in the Ash Sewers?"
"Corrupted Lizards. Social. E-rank individuals, but they hunt in groups. The boss is a mutated lizard king, E+ rank, with an area-of-effect acid mist."
"How do you know so much? That's a dungeon managed by Black Serpent; their internal data isn't publicly available."
Allen didn't answer.
His Dungeon Perception passive scan could read the internal structure of all dungeons within a five-kilometer radius—including monster types, density distribution, and boss characteristics. He didn't intend to hand over this information now.
Lina waited five seconds. No reply.
She drew her crescent dagger from her waist, wiping the dried blood from the blade with her thumb. The sound of metal scraping against skin was amplified twice in the concrete space of the second basement level.
"Guts is going too."
"Okay."
"When?" Allen glanced at the time in the corner of the management panel. 4:11 AM.
"Forty-eight hours. I need to prepare."
Forty-eight hours. Two days. He needed to save up at least 10,000 BP again—the dungeon's daily operations couldn't stop before entering the Ash Sewers. The loot customization feature cost 200 BP per run, but the return visitor effect was already starting to show. Three to five new posts about the "Brooklyn Warehouse Dungeon" were appearing on the forum every hour.
Two days would be enough.
Lina sheathed her crescent dagger back into its buckle. She turned and walked towards the ramp.
After three steps, she stopped.
"That defensive line. The one in the open area."
Allen waited.
"Guts's sister called him this morning, saying her nephew asked her why it was so noisy outside last night."
She didn't turn around.
"A six-year-old. He asked and then went back to sleep. Because he felt someone would protect him." High-top boots stepped onto the metal ramp. Footsteps rose higher and higher. Fading into the distance.
Allen stood beside the diamond-shaped opening, blue light shining on his muddy sneakers.
A new external monitoring notification popped up on the management panel.
Warehouse District Main Street direction. Three new points of light. Level designation: 2 D-rank, 1 C-rank.
Badge identification—Snake-shaped. Black.
The Black Serpent Guild has arrived.
4:15 AM. Less than an hour since Allen received the private message from SnakeBite.
The three points of light didn't head towards the warehouse. They dispersed, stopping at three different intersections in the warehouse area.
Not an attack. An encirclement.
Not an encirclement. Surveillance.
On the management panel, three black points of light remained silently lit, completely blocking the three exits of the warehouse area.
Allen's phone vibrated again in his pocket.
SnakeBite's second private message.
"Mr. Stone doesn't like waiting. He also doesn't like being ignored. Consider this a friendly reminder—we know where your dungeon is." Allen turned his phone over and held it face down in his palm. The screen went dark.
On the second basement level of the parking lot, only the blue light from the diamond-shaped opening and the three motionless black points of light on the management panel remained.
He crouched down, rummaged through his first-aid kit for the last painkiller, and swallowed it dry.
Then he opened the Blueprint Shop.
The Rank A blueprint lay quietly at the very top of the Blueprint Library. Abyss Watcher. Jet-black armor. Dark red eyes.
[Deploying the Abyss Watcher requires a Dungeon Level ≥ D. Current Dungeon Level: F+. Condition not met.] Allen closed the Blueprint Library.
Forty-eight hours.
On the external monitor of the management panel, the black dot at the western intersection of the warehouse area moved—it moved forward two meters, then returned to its original position.
A probe. Allen leaned back against pillar P2-17. The back of his head pressed against the cold cement. The same temperature as every night.
The BP counter on the management panel jumped. There were still two groups of Challengers advancing in the dungeon. At four in the morning, someone was still farming his dungeon.
[BP +340] [Current BP Balance: 2,640] Two days. 20,000 BP. Ash Sewers. Black Serpent Guild. Victor Stone.
Allen closed his eyes. The bitter taste of painkillers slowly rose from the bottom of his throat.
The management panel kept refreshing behind his eyelids. Three black dots. Motionless.