Greg appears in the cavern wearing the uniform of a low-level patrolman, standing beside Marilyn and several other members of the city police.
A week has passed since he joined.
According to the rules, he begins as a low-level patrolman.
To advance, he must earn ten contribution points to become a mid-level patrolman and thirty to become a high-level patrolman.
Contribution points are earned much like tasks in the Adventurer Union.
One way is to complete routine patrol duties, earning 0.5 contribution points and fifty silver pence at the end of each month.
The other way is to accept bounty missions or patrol assignments on the roads outside the city.
The first path is slow but safe.
The second is fast, but any mission could become the last.
Greg is only twenty.
He refuses to remain a low-level patrolman for two years.
For now, he chooses to patrol within the city because if he dies, no one will be left to care for his family.
He had once become an adventurer because he had no other path forward.
But now things are different.
He decides he will take the second path once his middle brother reaches the level of a Knight Apprentice and can support the family.
His thoughts settle.
He returns to the present.
He stares at the skeleton door.
He wonders how many lives were lost to build it, and where it leads.
From behind, whispers reach his ears.
Someone says Tim disappeared the moment he touched the door.
Another adds that the green fire inside the skull above the door turned red after Tim entered, then returned to green a few minutes later.
Speculation spreads.
Some think Tim is already dead.
Others suggest sending another person inside.
But no one steps forward.
Greg keeps his gaze fixed on the door, a faint unease rising in his chest.
He wonders if it is connected to the Snake Mother.
He recalls the battle with the cultists in the cavern.
They had been fighting fiercely, then suddenly dropped dead mid-fight.
Master Tim later explained it was because the Snake Mother reclaimed her power from them.
Greg never mentioned this to Claude.
He fears that if the God of Knowledge notices, it might also take back the power within him.
And if that happens,
He might die the same way.
The God of Knowledge's power is different.
It does not enhance strength like the Snake Mother's.
Instead, it sharpens understanding, allowing one to see deeper into oneself.
From what he has heard, most evil spirits grant strength but twist the mind in return.
Under their influence, followers lose themselves, even sacrificing their own families without hesitation.
But the God of Knowledge,
Its power comes without such side effects.
Greg's thoughts halt as a white spinning wheel appears on the door.
The air twists.
A moment later, Tim steps out of the portal, his body marked with injuries, his breathing uneven.
He barely stabilises himself before a group rushes forward.
The owner of the Golden Light Fighting School, the owner of the Shadow Wolf Fighting School, Marilyn, Old Tom, and a young man all surround him.
Greg notices something immediately.
Old Tom, who shows respect to no one, inclines his head slightly toward the young man.
Greg frowns and leans toward Wyatt beside him.
"Senior Wyatt, who is that young man?"
Wyatt glances once and answers calmly.
"He is Rafuel Langstrom, the senior brother of the Steel Heart Fighting School, and a Great Knight."
Greg's eyes widen.
"Great Knight? He looks young."
Wyatt nods.
"Great Knight Rafuel is only twenty-eight years old, and he reached that realm just a year ago."
Shock deepens in Greg's eyes.
His gaze lingers on Rafuel, a spark of hope igniting within him.
One day,
He wants to stand at that level as well.
Then he notices something else.
Rafuel does not carry the ethereal aura of a Dream Magician.
Greg's gaze shifts to Marilyn as she steps back from the group.
The officers gather around her.
Marilyn begins recounting what Tim encountered.
A worn-out place.
Rooms filled with coffins and skeleton monsters.
After killing them, they leave behind coins formed from concentrated Dream Energy.
Tim also obtained a magic item,
A pair of leather gloves that slightly increases strength.
Greg listens as Marilyn discusses with the inspectors whether they should send more people inside.
Before a decision forms,
A sudden commotion erupts in the cavern.
Heads turn.
Lucas, the owner of the Shadow Wolf Fighting School, steps forward with nine others.
Without hesitation, they enter the space behind the door.
Inside the subspace, Lin Yu watches everything clearly, yet as he observes the flow of the dungeon, he notices a problem.
The Dungeon Will is too rigid.
It operates perfectly according to rules, executing every function with precision, maintaining balance, spawning monsters, regulating drops, and preserving structure.
But that is exactly the problem.
It only follows rules.
It does not adapt.
It does not entice.
It does not think about growth.
Lin Yu narrows his eyes as he studies the movement of energy within the dungeon.
If things continue like this, the dungeon will remain nothing more than a testing ground.
People will come, test themselves, and leave.
Few will risk deeper exploration.
Fewer will spread stories.
And without stories,
There will be no true attraction.
He understands what is missing.
He needs legends.
He needs people to believe that entering the dungeon can change their fate.
Treasure.
Power.
Opportunity.
Stories of ordinary men rising after a single encounter.
Stories of risk and reward.
Stories that spread beyond the cavern.
Only then will people flood in willingly.
Only then will the dungeon grow.
Lin Yu taps his finger lightly in thought.
The Dungeon Will cannot do this.
It lacks initiative.
So he needs something else.
Something that can act beyond rigid rules while still working with them.
A new idea forms in his mind.
Without hesitation, Lin Yu raises his hand and mobilises a portion of the dungeon's power.
Dream Energy gathers.
Space twists.
He carves out a new room, separate from the dungeon floors, hidden within the subspace.
The room forms slowly.
Smooth walls.
A quiet, controlled environment.
At the centre, a large screen materialises, floating slightly above the ground.
It hums faintly as it stabilises.
Lin Yu connects it directly to the Dungeon Will.
The moment the connection completes,
The screen flickers.
Then it lights up.
Words begin to form across its surface.
The title appears first.
Skeleton Dungeon.
Below it, information organises itself into sections.
On the left side of the screen,
Dream Energy: 5698 points.
The number pulses faintly, representing the available resource.
On the right side,
Creation Option.
Lin Yu focuses on it.
With a simple thought, he selects it.
The interface expands.
New options unfold in layers.
Floor.
A sub-option appears beneath it.
Floor Layout.
He shifts his attention.
Another section opens.
Monsters.
A list begins to scroll.
Skeleton: Sword Skeleton.
Archer Skeleton.
Skeleton Mage.
Skeleton Knight.
Below that,
Zombie.
Vampire.
And more.
Far more.
The list extends endlessly, filled with various undead creatures, each requiring different amounts of Dream Energy to create.
Some are simple.
Some are complex.
Some radiate dangerous auras even through the interface.
Lin Yu observes silently.
Every option represents potential.
Every creation is a tool.
Every adjustment can influence the experience of those who enter.
Slowly, a faint smile appears on his face.
This is no longer just a dungeon.
He has turned it into a system.
A controlled environment.
A game.
A game of life and death.
A game of progression.
A game where players enter, struggle, gain rewards, and leave with stories.
And like any game,
It needs a controller.
Lin Yu raises his hand again.
This time, he mobilises the power of his true spirit.
Energy condenses beside him.
A figure begins to form.
Moments later, a clone stands in front of him.
The clone looks identical.
Same face.
Same presence.
But its strength is vastly different.
It carries only the level of an ordinary mortal.
Lin Yu does not separate his true spirit to create it.
Instead, it functions like a shadow clone.
A projection.
A controlled extension of himself.
It can act independently.
But it remains fully connected to his will.
Lin Yu studies it briefly.
This is enough.
The clone does not need power.
It needs intelligence.
It needs initiative.
It needs the ability to manage the dungeon actively.
The Dungeon Will will continue handling structure, balance, and rules in the background.
The clone,
Will run the game.
Lin Yu looks at the clone and speaks calmly.
"Go and entertain them."
The clone nods without hesitation.
"Ok, Master."
It turns toward the screen.
Its gaze sharpens.
With a simple motion, it selects an option.
View.
The screen shifts instantly.
The interface disappears.
In its place, a live projection appears.
The first floor.
The first room.
Ten adventurers stand within it.
The image sharpens further.
Movement begins.
The group advances quickly, clearing the room with efficiency.
They move like a coordinated unit.
No hesitation.
No wasted motion.
Lin Yu watches from behind, his expression calm.
The clone leans slightly forward, observing with interest.
The screen follows the group as they push forward.
Room after room falls.
Skeletons collapse under their attacks.
Arrows shatter.
Bones scatter.
The pace is fast.
Too fast.
They are not exploring.
They are rushing.
Speed-running through the dungeon.
Lin Yu's eyes narrow slightly.
This confirms his earlier thought.
Without proper incentives,
Without tension,
Without variation,
The dungeon becomes predictable.
And predictability kills excitement.
The clone tilts its head, analysing.
Behind it, the Dungeon Will continues operating silently.
Spawning enemies.
Maintaining balance.
Following rules.
But now,
There is something new.
A player behind the system.
A watcher.
A controller.
Lin Yu folds his arms.
The game has begun.