I resumed my journey down the tunnels. Without a map, I needed to follow the most recent signs of life. I was approached by stray ComCats but dispatched them much more quickly this time around. I left the meat where it was since carving out more would take too much time.

"Another hallway. And More Hallway. Oh, look, it's a fucking corridor."

The non-descript maze was dizzying. Left turns would often turn into right turns, and I had to double back a dozen times. The only saving grace was that I could tell where I'd been by the markings I made on the walls using a piece of charcoal.

I started out by leaving dicks all over the place, but my inner 7th-grader quickly dried up, and I downgraded to basic X's and O's. I'd start with an O and cross it out if I doubled back, indicating that direction was a dead end.

After that, I realized I could actually use the markings to my advantage and rake in points.

Booze This Way -->

"Hehehe~ "

And I was right. Not even ten minutes after I wrote the first sign, I heard heavy waddling.

"If this is another joke they'll meet the wrong side of my hammer."

"Sorry, bud."

"What the-"

*Thump*

This was the pattern for the next thirty minutes.

My points were slowly increasing, but the work was monotonous. I stayed clear of strong creatures or the sounds of large scouting parties.

To pass the time, I reviewed my grand plan. There were several points where it could fall off, and I haven't even theorized about the 3rd Layer or beyond. Surviving the first layer of The Box would already take more than I had. I lacked a basic class, skills, unique weapons and equipment, allies, an abundance of sponsors, etc.

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Getting a class was most important. I hid several easter-egg classes like "OP Protagonist" that would make me practically invincible or "Gamebreaking Harem Master," which was self-explanatory. The problem with those classes was that they would unbalance the world, and I was terrified that the world would somehow find a way to rebalance itself.

Like an author filling a plot hole.

Classes started weak and grew stronger as you purchased their attached skills. Said skills could be upgraded further, and your class could even branch out and evolve depending on your choices and achievements in The Box.

In all honesty, I made the system way too fucking complicated.

In order to gain my first class, I need to reach a Safe Zone. However, Safe Zones don't fucking exist. Not unless you take out a boss monster.

To explain. Monsters came in several categories.

Basic. These were ComCats, dwarves, and your basic bitches.

Sub-Bosses. These-

[Announcement: Congratulations, Contestants. A player procured-]

"Shut the fuck up. I'm trying to explain something, and you're spouting bullshit. I know what you're going to say, so why don't you shut you're trap before I erase you like a basic bitch."

I was met with a heavy silence.

Alone with my thoughts, I had a moment to self-examine and acknowledges my lack of rest was leading to frustration.

Resuming my explanation...

Sub-Bosses. Matrons were a good example. Sub-Bosses are large nusiances. They are moderately more challenging to kill yet not nearly as rewarding.

Bosses. These big baddies guard each zone and need to die before a safe zone can be spawned in the area. One example of a Boss would be the Scout Leader in a Dwarven Outpost.

Coincidentally, that's where I'm heading.

Some non-dwarven bosses would show up on this Layer, but not that often. Any monster strong enough to be a Boss would likely be a Raid Boss instead. They had underlings, skills, extra health bars; you name it.

I won't mention Layer Leviathans.

No one could ever be remotely safe until contestants banded together and killed a Boss.

Sure, a select few could solo a boss without a class. McTavish, the main villain, Asteria if she were backed into a corner. I would have to perform the same feat to ensure our survival.

As I was visualizing a slow, agonizing, and horribly crunchy death, I heard footsteps.

Not the awkward waddle of a dwarf or the pitter-patter of a monster.

The distinction was so clear that I didn't bother to hide.

The echoing footsteps that grew closer were hesitant, like that of someone trying to remain quiet yet being pushed forward by a single-minded purpose.

And then they came into view.