That Dungeon And The Underworld’s Methods

One afternoon.

A pair of adventurers pushed through pathless forest, parting the grass as they went.

The unshaven armored man walking in front cut through brush with his sword and spoke.

“It really exists, right?”

“Who knows. That’s our job to find out.”

The robed, mage-like young man walking behind answered casually.

The bearded man frowned as he pushed onward.

“A dungeon entrance where poison is leaking… hard to believe monsters live there.”

“And apparently it’s deadly poison. The monsters themselves should be dead… maybe evolved types can survive.”

“Just because a King Poison Rat appeared, they’re making too big a deal of it.”

“Maybe it was only one—but it could also mean an S-rank appeared.”

“I’ve never seen an S-rank. Wanna see one at least once.”

The bearded man grinned.

Behind him, the youth shook his head in exasperation.

“No thanks. A poison S-rank would kill us instantly just by seeing it.”

“Hydra… or Medusa, was it? Only read about them in novels.”

“Oh? I’m surprised you read.”

“Demon Reincarnation is great. Surprisingly educational about monsters.”

“Novels are fiction. Why believe them?”

Normally he’d be right.

Novels mix lies for entertainment.

But Demon Reincarnation was written by the Demon King.

So the ecology and knowledge of monsters and demons were described accurately—even parts humans didn’t know.

To the Demon King, he had only written obvious facts…

The man grinned further.

“Well anyway, the best part is the all-species harem—…EH!?”

“Wha—EH!? What is this!?”

Both froze with eyes wide.

Before them lay a gigantic crater under bright sunlight.

The massive hole, about 300 meters across, gouged deep into the ground.

Looking down, rubble piled at the bottom.

Faint green and purple mist drifted.

“Hey… what the hell is this…?”

“Maybe the dungeon here collapsed?”

“Collapsed? Someone cleared it!? Looks at least forty floors deep!”

“No, deeper if you subtract the rubble… maybe sixty floors…”

“That’s S-rank dungeon depth… only a guildmaster could do that…”

“Probably a hero party… who could’ve done it?”

The man stared in shock.

The youth leaning over the cliff suddenly stepped back.

“Whoa… that poison mist’s bad. Just touching it would rot your skin and kill you.”

“That bad!? Mark the map and let’s go! Report to the guild!”

“Understood.”

The youth marked the map and covered his mouth with a handkerchief.

The man hurried past him, belatedly covering his mouth too.

They quickly retraced their path.

Later, mages dispatched jointly by the Adventurer Guild and Court Mage Corps analyzed the poison mist.

It was identified as a miasma-enhanced lethal toxin.

Because normal antidote herbs and cure potions couldn’t treat it, the surrounding area was sealed off.

It was hard to believe a dungeon would collapse on its own.

—Since no hero existed now, rumors spread about who achieved such a feat.

Late night in the Royal Capital.

Down an alley past the main street, a tavern lay at the bottom of stairs leading underground.

Inside was dim like a cave, filled with rough-looking men among both patrons and staff.

In the back, a rugged man with an eyepatch slammed his glass onto the table.

“What!? They got caught!?”

“Y-yes, Lord Gadwin. Puchi Eli got the Royal mark, and the two we assigned were arrested for counterfeiting and other crimes.”

A balding short man bowed repeatedly while reporting.

The eyepatch man—Gadwin—cursed and drank.

“Damn it! Don’t we have anyone who won’t crack under pressure!?”

“That’s impossible. We’re a gang of thugs.”

“Keep harassing them! First thing tomorrow morning, storm the shop and pick a fight! Not enough to get arrested!”

“Understood.”

The small man hurried off fearfully.

Once alone, Gadwin clicked his tongue loudly.

“Damn… if I make a big achievement, the evil god gives me power… Why’s taking out a washed-up ex-hero and a slave woman taking so long? I need a comeback!”

He drained his drink and poured another.

He had handled Lord Thomson’s dirty work and lived lavishly.

With subordinates under him, his influence in the Royal Capital had grown.

But now that Lord Thomson was gone, he’d returned to being a petty criminal.

Forced to abandon his hideout to avoid investigation, now ranting in a seedy tavern.

His only hope was the evil god.

He’d been promised power if he ruined Puchi Eli’s reputation and got Alec and Liricia persecuted.

Gadwin’s drunken eyes gleamed.

“I ain’t some slum brat begging to survive anymore… I’m a big shot. I’ll grab this chance and build the biggest organization in the capital! —Then poison it… if people die after drinking Puchi Eli, its reputation’s finished. Gotta do it!”

Gadwin stood violently and stormed out.

A thin, messy-haired man followed quietly—but no one noticed.