The pristine white stone corridor stretched endlessly into the deepest darkness like the intestine of some colossal creature. There was none of the damp moss common to dungeons, nor the nauseating stench of rotting flesh.
Faint fluorescence emanated from within the stone slabs, casting four stumbling shadows that stretched long and oblique.
Leading the party at the very front was Grang, captain of the Iron Thorn Squad.
The edge of his heavy steel tower shield occasionally scraped against the crystal-white floor, producing dull echoes.
Grang's broad back was taut with excessive tension, his originally honest face now etched with a cowardice utterly mismatched to his burly frame. Yet his left arm, gripping the shield, remained as steady as a mountain.
Meanwhile, on the sixth floor of the dungeon, extremely far from them, within the cozy and luxuriously furnished bedroom at the labyrinth's core...
"The overall strength of this party... is so weak it makes me want to fall asleep."
The Dungeon Lord, Labrynth, was currently sprawled comfortably on a soft bed. She wore loose sleepwear, her pale, slender calves swinging idly in the air, her toes occasionally engaging in mock combat with her tail.
Before her, a massive holographic screen displayed the movements of the Iron Thorn Squad in real-time. The faces of the four unlucky souls were clearly visible on the screen.
A big guy whose head is full of thoughts about his wife and kids, a thief who values money above all else, a naive fool who can't even hold a staff steady, and one more... an expressionless guy who keeps staring at bugs in the wall cracks?
(￣ー￣)
An undisguised look of disdain appeared on Labrynth's delicate face.
She sighed, her slender fingers swiftly sliding across the control panel of the virtual projection. According to her original design, this necessary path was filled with lethal traps capable of grinding Silver-rank adventurers into mincemeat.
No, I can't let them die just like that. Labrynth's mind raced. I finally managed to brew a few Healing Potions using [Silver Alchemy]. I need someone to test their efficacy, right?
Sustainable development is the core operational strategy a Silver Dungeon Lord should uphold. If these guys who aren't even enough to fill the gaps between my teeth die here, who will go to the surface to promote this brand new labyrinth for me?
Right now, I need lively billboards. I need them to return to the taverns, raving with fanatical greed about treasures, to spread the fame of this place far and wide, to attract more greedy, high-level fat sheep!
Let the labyrinth develop sustainably, squeezing a bit of Emotion Points from adventurers every day.
With a flick of her fingertip, commands were instantly issued, reconstructing the physical laws of the labyrinth's lower levels.
The sharp steel spikes hidden beneath the stone slabs, coated with lethal, blood-sealing poison, were silently replaced in a mesh of gears with blunt wooden clubs whose heads were wrapped in thick cotton cloth.
And the bottomless pit in the corridor ahead, filled with highly corrosive acid, was leveled with smooth stone slabs.
"Go on, my little mice. Enjoy the beginner's tutorial I've tailor-made for you." Labrynth revealed a mischievous smile.
Back in the corridor, the Iron Thorn Squad remained completely unaware of the fateful turn of events occurring in the shadows.
The rogue, Finn, pressed against the pure white wall, feeling his way forward like a startled cat. His worn leather boots trod really lightly on the stone floor, his mind still frantically calculating the sunk costs of this mission.
My dagger is chipped, the captain's armor is dented, that idiot Liya's potions shattered all over the ground... If we don't find at least ten gold coins' worth of valuables on this trip, I'll have to beg at the Adventurers' Guild entrance for the second half of the month!
Just as his mind was filled with flying gold coins, an unusual sensation suddenly came from the sole of his right boot. A slightly raised stone slab was pressed down under his foot.
Click.
A crisp sound of a mechanism snapping echoed abruptly in the narrow, deathly silent passage, like the tolling of a death knell.
"Everyone get down-!"
Grang's pupils constricted sharply. The instinct to protect his comrades instantly overwhelmed his fear.
He let out an ear-splitting roar, like an old bear protecting its cubs, and took a fierce step forward, slamming the steel tower shield, wider than a door panel, squarely in front of the party, firmly shielding Finn and Liya behind him.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Three black shadows shot out from hidden compartments in the side walls at an initial velocity that seemed to tear through the air, slamming violently against the surface of the tower shield with dull, heavy thuds.
The tremendous impact force split the skin between Grang's thumb and forefinger, blood flowing down his wrist into his vambrace.
Still, he gritted his teeth and didn't retreat a single step.
Finn fell back onto the cold stone floor, his face as pale as paper, his chest heaving violently as he greedily gulped air.
Goddess of the Hearth above! Just half an inch more! My head almost parted ways with my neck!
His hands trembling, he clutched his neck tightly. Only after confirming his head was still intact on his shoulders, with no warm liquid spurting out, did he let out a gasp of relief that sounded uglier than crying.
Liya crouched behind Grang's broad back, clutching the staff tied with a pink bow.
Amid this atmosphere filled with post-crisis panic, the archer, Rek, displayed a shocking level of calm.
Expressionless, he walked forward, crouched down, and picked up one of the "lethal projectiles" that had just crashed against the shield and fallen to the ground amidst the mess. He weighed it in his hand.
"...No iron tip."
Rek's voice was as flat as if discussing the day's weather. He extended a finger and poked the tip of the wooden club. "Just blunt, flattened wood. Good craftsmanship."
After saying this, he casually tossed it aside like trash. The wooden club bounced twice on the ground with dull thump-thump sounds.
Finn was stunned–as well as Grang.
He slowly lowered his aching, raised tower shield, looked at the wooden club on the ground, and his brain briefly short-circuited.
Liya peeked half her head out from behind Grang, tear stains still glistening on her face, blinking her eyes in confusion. "This... is this some high-level mage's boring prank set up here? Or is it some new kind of 'non-lethal dungeon ecological protection mechanism'?"
"Enough with the academic nonsense! Stay alert!"
Grang didn't answer, just took a deep breath and raised his shield warily again. Though the trap was bizarre, in this damned dungeon, any relaxation meant death.
The party pressed forward, the atmosphere becoming somewhat awkward after the "cotton-club assault.""
As they turned a sharp corner, a wooden door emitting a soft golden light appeared before them without warning.
In this oppressive, monotonous expanse of purely white, the golden light on this door was as eye-catching as an oasis in the desert.
"Treasure Room! It must be a Treasure Room!"
Finn's eyes instantly lit up like two searchlights. Previous fear was swept away by greed. He scrambled to the wooden door, not even waiting for Grang to voice a warning, and pushed it open.
The room wasn't large. A low stone pedestal stood in the center. On the pedestal rested an exquisitely carved solid wood treasure chest. The chest wasn't locked.
Beside the wooden chest stood a square stone slab carved with intricate magic runes.
Liya's eyes also lit up. As a magic academy student, she had a natural fervor for such things.
She immediately stepped forward, almost pressing her face against the slab, carefully examining the patterns interwoven with geometric shapes and ancient runes.
This... this seems to be a basic alchemical elemental sequence puzzle! I've seen a similar structure in the appendix of the third edition of Classical Rune Analysis!
She excitedly rubbed her hands together, extended a slender finger, and, while muttering to herself, pressed the four core runes on the slab in sequence according to the mana flow order of "Wind, Fire, Water, Earth."
Click-
Accompanied by an extremely crisp and pleasant sound of a mechanism, the lid of the wooden chest automatically popped open. A faint magical energy fluctuation wafted out from within.
All four held their breath simultaneously, leaning toward the chest.
Inside were no gold coins, nor divine artifacts. Instead, five hefty Refined Iron Ingots were neatly stacked, along with two Magic Crystals emitting a pure, deep blue glow.
For the Iron Thorn Squad, they didn't know these were merely excess, overflowing secondary resources produced by Labrynth's "Thunderfire Furnace"¹ operating at full capacity.
But in their eyes, this was a windfall.
Finn eagerly grabbed a Refined Iron Ingot, weighed it in his hand, then opened his mouth and bit down hard on the edge.
"Ouch!"
He clutched his cheek, but his eyes were smiling into slits. "So hard! Captain, just these five pieces of iron, taken to the black market, are enough to buy your wife two sets of the finest silk dresses! And there'd still be plenty left over!"
Grang swallowed hard.
Images of his wife smiling radiantly in a new dress already filled his mind.
Even the lingering shoulder ache from his dislocation seemed to lessen considerably.
"Hurry, hurry, pack them up! Finn excitedly stuffed all the loot into his patched-up spatial backpack, his movements so skilled it was heartbreaking.
After a brief rest, the Iron Thorn Squad, their morale greatly boosted by their substantial haul, continued deeper into the labyrinth with renewed vigor.
The narrow corridor suddenly opened up at the far end ahead, transforming into an extremely spacious circular hall. The hall's dome emitted a soft light.
And in the very center of the hall stood a bizarre creature.
A Pure White Doll with no facial features. It had no eyes, no nose, only a smooth, jade-like white stone face.
A coarse, dust-covered apron was tied around the doll's body, looking both funny and horrifying. Its hands were pushing a dilapidated wooden cart densely packed with glass vials containing red and blue liquids.
Grang's just-relaxed nerves tensed again. He gripped his sword hilt, holding the tower shield firmly before his chest, cautiously taking a step forward, his muscles primed to explode into action at any moment.
"What are you? A monster? Or some kind of Alchemical Golem?"
The Pure White Doll made no sound. It merely turned around slowly and stiffly, pulled out a wooden sign with writing on it from its apron pocket, and held it up high.
Scrawled on the sign in the common tongue was a line of large characters. This was the content Labrynth had Ryan write.
Though she couldn't read the words or understand the language, the mental illusion allowed her to connect directly with others' minds.
[Honest Merchant. No Credit. Cash Only.]
Thump.
The money pouch Finn had just taken out to count fell from his hand onto the floor, a few copper coins rolling out.
Liya stared blankly at the sign, her mouth slightly agape as if her worldview had suffered a devastating blow. "A... a shop... in the deepest part of the dungeon?"
Rek silently drew the string of his longbow, arrow tip aimed at the doll's chest.
"It actually accepts surface currency here?!"
Finn snapped back to reality, snatched up the money pouch, and shook it vigorously, producing crisp metallic clinks as if testing the other party's bottom line.
The Pure White Doll's featureless head nodded stiffly, emitting a stone-grinding "crack-crack" sound.
It extended a white finger without nails, pointed at a red Healing Potion on the wooden cart that exuded a rich aura of life, and held up five fingers.
"Five copper coins? That's quite a dea–"
The doll shook its head and flipped the sign over to its other side. Written there was: [Unit Price: Gold Coins].
"Five gold coins?! Why don't you just rob me?!"
Finn shouted angrily, his voice echoing in the hall. He even wanted to draw his chipped dagger and fight this profiteer to the death. Five gold coins are enough for me to eat barbecue in the lower district for half a year! Is your potion brewed from dragon's blood?!"
However, before Finn could finish his outburst, a streak of golden light arced through the air.
Grang had already counted out five gleaming gold coins from his personal money pouch and tossed them over without hesitation.
The doll caught the coins steadily, then handed the red Healing Potion to Grang.
"Captain! You're insane! That's half our savings!" Finn wailed in anguish.
"Shut up, Finn. Money can be earned again. If your life is gone, there's nothing left. If my left arm isn't healed, we'll all die if we encounter a real monster." Grang said gravely.
He pulled out the stopper, tilted his head back, and drank the potion in one gulp.
A scorching warm current instantly flowed down his throat into his limbs and bones. Grang's eyes widened in surprise.
The tearing sensation and soreness lingering from his dislocated left arm vanished within mere seconds. His muscles once again brimmed with explosive strength. The efficacy was even more immediate than the healing magic in the grand cathedral.
...This dungeon is utterly absurd to the extreme.
Grang flexed his left arm, now as good as new, looking at the doll that had neatly tucked the gold coins into its apron pocket and patted it satisfactorily. A profound sense of absurdity filled his heart.
The transaction was complete, but the Pure White Doll didn't leave. Instead, it pulled out a yellowed piece of parchment from the bottom of the cart and handed it to Liya.
Liya took the parchment doubtfully, slowly unrolling it. Her expression shifted from curiosity to confusion, and finally to extreme distortion.
The paper depicted an abstract drawing with wildly wild lines and quite a collapsed composition.
It was a crooked circle, with three wriggling, worm-like squiggly lines drawn beside it.
What the hell kind of modern art genre is this?!
(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻
Liya felt her magical cultivation had been insulted. She showed the drawing to the other squad members, despairingly exclaiming, "Can any of you understand what this thing is supposed to be? Is it some lost ancient Magic Circle? Or some kind of mental pollution curse?"
Everyone stared at the drawing, falling into a deathly silence.
Two seconds later, Rek expressionlessly raised his hand and pointed toward the base of the wall in a corner of the hall.
"Those three lines-" Rek's voice remained utterly devoid of emotion. "look a lot like that patch of glowing moss growing in the corner.
"As for that circle, it probably represents glowing. The person who drew this has worse drawing skills than my five-year-old nephew."
Finn followed Rek's pointing finger, his eyes lighting up again. He immediately ran over like a gust of wind and scraped off a large handful of faintly glowing moss with his chipped dagger.
He ran back to the wooden cart and tentatively placed the moss in the palm of the doll's outstretched hand.
The Pure White Doll "looked" at the moss in its hand and nodded satisfactorily. It turned around, fumbled around at the bottom of the cart for a moment, then pulled out a brand new Fine Steel Dagger, emitting a chilling gleam, and handed it to Finn.
Finn took the dagger with trembling hands. He gently tested the sharp edge with his thumb. Just a touch, and a tiny bead of blood seeped from his fingertip.
"Perfect balance... top-tier forging craftsmanship! This blood groove design is simply art! Finn hugged the dagger, letting out an uncontrollable, bordering on madness burst of joyful laughter, tears almost streaming from his eyes.
Whoever built this labyrinth, whether it's a trap or not! I love this place to death! I'm going to settle down here!
Watching Finn, overjoyed and kissing the dagger madly, and Liya seriously studying the parchment, trying to find more "quests," Grang sighed helplessly and rubbed his twitching temples.
They had clearly fallen into a trap to escape for their lives, and could be torn to pieces by high-level monsters at any moment.
Despite that, now? They were actually running errands in this bizarre place and enjoying themselves!
The fear of the unknown dungeon was being replaced by the fervor of acquiring ultimate treasures.
And this was precisely the psychological trap Labrynth had meticulously planned.
Far away in the sixth-floor core bedroom, Labrynth comfortably rolled over, burying her face in the soft pillow.
Watching the constantly pulsing, soaring Emotion Points on her system panel, the corners of her mouth curved upwards wildly.
[Detected emotional fluctuations from the targets: Ecstasy, Greed, Astonishment... Emotion Points: +50, +50, +100...]
Fear and despair are certainly easy to obtain; just slaughter indiscriminately. But greed and ecstasy are also high-quality emotions that can be converted into tangible benefits, and even better, they are renewable.
Labrynth satisfactorily snapped her fingers.
Perfect indeed.
In the hall, the Pure White Doll had completed its mission.
It waved its nail-less hand at the Iron Thorn Squad, then, together with the wooden cart, slowly sank into the ground as if it had never appeared.
At once, the white wall directly ahead of the hall emitted a low rumble, sliding smoothly apart to both sides, revealing a brand new passageway.
"Let's go, brothers." Grang took a deep breath and raised his tower shield once more. But this time, there was a bit less gloomy despair in his tone.
The Iron Thorn Squad organized their equipment and strode toward the new unknown with light steps.
They no longer fled desperately in the dark like headless flies, because they now harbored an illusion.
They felt they weren't escaping for their lives, but exploring a peerless treasure trove filled with wondrous encounters, its doors wide open to them.
At the end of the passage was a heavy stone door.
Grang walked forward, placed both hands on the stone door, and pushed with all his might. Accompanied by a dull grinding sound, the stone door slowly opened.
Blindingly dazzling light instantly poured out from the door crack, making everyone instinctively close their eyes. When they readjusted to the light and saw the scene before them, the jaws of all four nearly hit the floor simultaneously.
A colorful roulette wheel, shimmering with multicolored magical light, occupied the entire space of the new room.
Written on the roulette wheel in the common tongue were various blood-pumping words: [Armor], [Gold Coins], [Magic Brand]...
And at the very bottom of the wheel, written in extremely small font, was a line:
[Only ten gold coins per draw. Good luck.]
…
¹ Changed term
...
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