Stepping beneath Babel Tower again, Genichi crossed the threshold into the Dungeon's deep, yawning mouth. The familiar air hit him at once, dust and a faint magic-stone glow mixing into that cold, subterranean scent.
This ti was different.
Lunoire wasn't beside him.
He was alone.
His destination was clear and far: the Eighteenth Floor, the safe zone known as Rivira.
He wasn't going down to settle in imdiately. This was a recon run, a way to map the environnt, routes, and the possibility of establishing himself in that border town where humans and demi-humans lived together. If the conditions were right, Genichi planned to use Rivira, or an even deeper floor, as a base for the foreseeable future, cutting out the constant back-and-forth to the surface and keeping his hunts steady and efficient.
Supplies?
To him, that wasn't an obstacle.
The leather pouch at his left hip looked ordinary, but it held sothing else entirely.
It was a small magical storage bag he'd created using a traceless expansion spell recorded in his spell catalog.
Because of his current mana limits, the inner space wasn't remotely comparable to the legendary spatial gear, but a roughly two-ter-by-two-ter-by-two-ter volu was still enough to cram in supplies that could support him alone in the Dungeon for more than a month: compressed rations, clean water, backup weapons, a simple tent, multiple empty magic-stone storage bags, ergency potions, and a handful of necessary tools and spare clothes.
He hadn't wanted to be this extre. Staying out of his familia's and goddess's sight for a long stretch, operating solo in the dangerous deep floors, was objectively high risk.
But reality was forcing his hand into sothing more aggressive and more hidden.
Loki Familia's attention hung over him like a blade.
The exposure didn't an the signboard was the end, it was only the beginning. No one could predict where that interest would lead.
Loki was infamous among the gods for pranks and curiosity, and her familia's actions often followed the sa unpredictable logic.
Genichi's greatest worry wasn't Loki Familia striking at him directly. Without a clear conflict or entanglent, the "public standard-bearers" of Orario probably wouldn't casually create a new feud.
What he feared was the chain reaction, the undercurrent beneath the calm surface.
From his recent observations in Orario and the fragnts Deter occasionally let slip, Genichi had roughly pinned down the tiline.
That iconic "rabbit" boy still hadn't appeared in the city, which ant the main story curtain hadn't risen yet. There should still be a buffer window before Dionysus's conspiracy fully erupted.
But the advantage of knowing the plot only made his anxiety sharper.
He knew the wine god, Dionysus, was a mad god orchestrating a catastrophe on a god-scale, and his pieces were already on the board.
Deter Familia, a gentle faction known for agriculture, had likely already been marked as a target for infiltration and control.
That "divine wine," the horrifying creation that could corrode the will of gods and mortals alike.
The grapes Deter Familia cultivated were undoubtedly ideal raw material for brewing, and the familia's mbers weren't exactly combat-capable. That alone created an opening.
Genichi couldn't be certain whether Loki Familia's unusual interest in him would push Dionysus into moving early.
Would he use the divine wine to control Deter Familia's mbers and squeeze Orario's living space from the inside?
And worse, the shadow over Genichi's own self-assessnt grew heavier.
He didn't know whether he could resist the divine wine's ntal control.
There was no direct resistance skill for ntal abnormal states in his list.
A demon constitution might provide so magical resistance, but against sothing at the level of divine authority, the effect was unknown.
As for his willpower…
Genichi tugged at the corner of his mouth in a cool, nearly self-mocking expression.
He knew exactly what kind of person he was.
He wouldn't gamble, and he refused to put himself in a position where he had to "test" it the hard way.
So the optimal solution, by his current logic, was to distance himself from the potential vortex, dive into the Dungeon, and stockpile power in the dark where no one could see him, until he had the strength to face whatever shift was coming.
His footsteps stayed fast and steady along the relatively wide upper-floor passages. He avoided scattered goblins and ropers, not bothering with fights, heading straight for the routes down.
As he was about to turn into the main corridor leading to the Fifth Floor, a crisp voice with professional politeness called from behind him.
"Adventurer over there, please wait a mont!"
Genichi's brows drew together almost imperceptibly. He didn't slow, and if anything, he subtly sped up.
He didn't want side trouble, especially not being stopped by Guild personnel.
The Guild's eyes were everywhere. Any unusual behavior could end up recorded.
But the footsteps behind him turned urgent, clearly pursuing him.
Then a hand landed lightly but firmly on his left shoulder, halting his forward montum.
"Please, wait."
The voice ca again, closer now, with a thread of insistence.
At this point, he couldn't keep walking. Forcing his way off would only make him look more suspicious.
Genichi inhaled, crushed down the flare of irritation and the rapid guesses spinning up in his mind, and turned around.
A half-elf woman ca into view, glasses on, features neat and capable. She wore the standard Guild staff uniform with a naplate pinned to her chest. Her eyes were sharp as she examined him.
A Guild advisor.
Eina Tulle.
Genichi imdiately pulled her na and the relevant details from the corner of his mory.
Known for being conscientious and responsible, especially for taking good care of rookie adventurers, she had a very solid reputation among adventurers.
Why was she approaching him now?
"What is it, Guild miss?"
Genichi kept his tone flat, and even let a trace of annoyance leak through, the kind of reaction a solo adventurer eager to enter the Dungeon might naturally show.
Eina withdrew her hand, adjusted her glasses, and let her gaze flick over his equipnt.
"Sorry to trouble you, adventurer," she said politely and professionally. "I'm Eina Tulle, a Guild advisor. I noticed you're alone, and your equipnt suggests you're a newcor. Under Guild guidelines, we recomnd a brief interview and risk assessnt registration to ensure you understand the dangers and to offer safety advice where possible."
She paused, watching his reaction.
"May I see your adventurer card? And if it's convenient, could you tell your familia and current level? That will help judge whether your preparations are sufficient."
(End of Chapter)
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