Who Designed This Dungeon Chapter 31 - 31

Late at night—a ti when most creatures should be sound asleep.

But in Bedford City, the closer it drew to midnight, the more alive the streets beca. Because when the dungeon sealed its gates at the stroke of twelve, adventurers would co flooding back—triumphant or defeated, rich with loot or broke as beggars. Either way, they all needed the sa things: drink, food, and sex. Celebration or consolation—both paid well.

Midnight was a golden hour for taverns. The Adventurers' Guild thrumd with activity, and potion shops, monster-material vendors, and all manner of shady back-alley rchants threw their doors wide open.

"Bro, how'd it go today?"

"Not bad—getting the hang of the routes now. I've started morizing the dungeon's layout. Clearing the swamp zone's just a matter of ti. We even made it as far as that rundown village… twice."

"Nice. Heard soone's organizing a raid—led by Silver-rank Leon himself. You in?"

"A raid? Nah. Those maniacs eat, breathe, and dream dungeon crawling. Pretty sure the dungeon is their kink."

"Ha! Fair enough. C'mon, let's drink! Tonight we're—"

The man froze mid-sentence, eyes narrowing.

"Wait. Why the hell's that guy heading out of the city?"

While adventurers stread back through the gates in noisy, boisterous clusters, a lone figure slipped against the flow—slightly hunched, hood shadowing his face.

"Huh. He looks familiar… think I've seen him around lately…"

Jack ignored the curious stares prickling his back as he approached the teleportation gate. He stepped in without hesitation.

With less than thirty minutes until the dungeon closed, who in their right mind would enter now?

The swamp greeted him like an old enemy: dark skies sagging overhead, rancid air thick with decay, the squelch of muck beneath his boots. Every shadow seed alive, whispering promises of rot.

Jack hated it. He'd escorted over a dozen parties through this swamp hell, and the sight of it made his stomach churn. Every adventurer had a cooldown between runs, so Jack could only guide one group per day. The rest of his ti, he spent hunched over sketching maps.

Sotis, his life felt less like that of a dungeon guide and more like a strategy writer for so ridiculous handbook.

Adventurers often assud that if Jack knew the swamp like his backyard, he must know the zones beyond. They'd flash extra coin, begging him to lead them deeper.

Every ti, Jack smiled thinly and gave the sa answer:

"Those areas ahead… we'll explore those another day."

It wasn't that he didn't want the money. Truth was—he'd never been there.

Jack ca to a halt. His instincts prickled.

"Clunk!"

A wooden chest materialized at his feet as if spat out by the earth. He didn't flinch. Instead, he knelt, pried it open with practiced ease, and thick smoke burst out, curling around him like a living thing.

[Teleportation Trap Triggered!]

Monts later, Jack stood inside the fortress—the swamp zone's boss chamber. The air was colder here, heavy with an unseen weight. And towering before him…

"Master."

Jack lowered his head, voice steady despite the pulse hamring in his ears.

"Mm." Wade, clad in his gargoyle form, replied with a tone as flat and cold as stone.

Jack couldn't guess what his master wanted this ti. Fear lingered, yes—but it was tempered by sothing new. Respect. Gratitude. This man had saved his life and, indirectly, given him purpose.

"How's your job progressing?" Wade's voice carried like a judge's gavel.

"Still developing," Jack admitted, hands clasped behind his back. "Local adventurers can now light the beacon and open the fortress gate with minimal casualties. The only problem is map knowledge. Out-of-towners depend on even more. I've built a small reputation, but across the entire adventurer crowd…"

He hesitated, letting the silence say what words couldn't—he needed new maps.

Wade understood imdiately. Jack wanted intel on the next zones. Truthfully, Wade had already considered this. Sharing details about the Blighttown could serve his plans nicely.

But first…

"Here."

A book thudded into Jack's hands. The title, stamped in bold letters, made his brow furrow:

"An Actor Prepares." (Written by Konstantin Stanislavski, early 1900s.)

"…???"

Jack blinked, utterly lost, then looked up.

"From now on," Wade said evenly, "you're the Dungeon Guide Master. Play the part well."

Before Jack could respond, Wade seized him by the collar and shot skyward, gargoyle wings tearing through the air. Wind howled past Jack's ears as the fortress roof shrank beneath them. Then—BOOM—the back gate thundered open.

From above, Wade granted Jack a sweeping, godlike view of Blighttown. The labyrinth sprawled below like a serpent, its streets choked with mists and decay.

Then Wade did sothing unthinkable: he disabled every monster, every trap. He let Jack walk the route over and over, hamring the layout into mory. By the end, Jack could have navigated it blindfolded.

Finally, Wade revealed the bonfire. Jack didn't even need instructions—he understood instantly, faster than Stella ever had. His instincts were razor-sharp.

"Attract more adventurers. Spread the word. Beco the undisputed dungeon guide in their eyes." Wade raised two fingers.

"Two missions."

"Consider it done." Jack's grin flashed sharp as a blade. He'd grown sick of the swamp—finally, sothing new! A whole new map, a whole new life.

He was turning to leave, mind buzzing with plans, when Wade's voice snapped like a whip:

"One more thing."

"Yes, sir?"

"The items I gave you—did you distribute them?"

"Those? Yes. I used my contacts. The Arcanum Order, the Holy Light Church, the Warriors Hall… they should all have their packages within a few days."

"Good. Then take this."

A white orb floated into Jack's palm, pulsing with an eerie glow—the soul of a Giant Basilisk.

"Try it at the bonfire," Wade murmured. "This is your ticket to strength."

Jack's heart thundered. His hands trembled. This was it—the power he'd dread of for years.

"And these."

Wade tossed him a heavy bundle. A rich aroma spilled into the chamber—an intoxicating dley of fragrances that made Jack's stomach roar like a beast.

"…What the hell is this?"

Jack unwrapped it—and froze.

Inside lay a fish with lobster claws.

A "snake" with a grotesque frog-like head.

Chocolate-coated mushrooms glistening like jewels.

And a cabbage that slled faintly of almonds.

The entire bundle was stuffed with culinary abominations. Where in the gods' nas had these freakish things co from?

[Pincer Fish — Origin: Toriko]

[Mana Cost per 10 units: 1]

[Overall Combat Power: G]

[Snake-Frog]

[Mana Cost per 10 units: 1]

[Overall Combat Power: G-]

[Almond Cabbage]

[Mana Cost per 100 units: 5]

[Combat Power: None]

"These…" Wade's grin carved shadows across his face, a smile steeped in madness.

"…will beco the dungeon's future specialty products."

Jack stared. Speechless. Bewildered. Uneasy.

"Go spread the word—that the dungeon's hidden zones produce even more of these."

Jack blinked slowly, mind reeling.

He didn't understand.

But one thing was certain

Whatever his master was planning… it was big.

And it terrified him.