When I arrived at the first floor — as usual carrying a huge cart filled with shells to the brim — everything that was required to move to the second floor was already in place. I saw several carts filled with construction materials, escorted by workers, which meant the second-floor encampment could be built even faster.

I didn't arrange any of them. It must be Harold who handled it all, which was fortunate. I walked further, only to see Harold talking with someone. His posture suggested that whoever he was talking to, wasn't pleasant.

"What's going on," I said even as I approached.

"Sir. We have a representative from the guilds gracing us with their presence," Harold said, but his distaste was clear.

"Speak," I said.

"Honorable guild leader. I'm just here to deliver you a letter," he said as pulled an envelope.

"From whom?" I asked.

"It's from a few other guilds that are looking to establish a local chapter in the dungeon, sir," he said as I opened the letter. I didn't need to fake a frown as I read the long and meandering letter. On the surface, it was just asking for an informal dinner where the guild masters could meet and discuss strategies, to be hosted in the town in a few days.

However, reading between the lines, there was another message, one that was not particularly hidden. It suggested that I keep the dungeon operation light until we could have a meeting.

While there was no other explicit mention of their plans, the intent was obvious. They wanted to establish a small cartel, one that could pressure the town into giving them a higher share of the profits.

"Tell them that I will attend the meeting," I said. The nameless messenger smirked while Harold frowned. I turned to him. "Start working. We have to start building the outpost on the second floor. The sooner we start, the sooner we can start making a fortune," I added loudly.

Just like that, their expressions changed. "Sir," the messenger started, but froze when I looked at him.

"What, do you want me to give up a fortune just because of a letter," I said. "I'm not here to make a pittance."

"I'll deliver that message, sir," he said before he turned and left.

Harold said nothing as we watched him move away. I could see him tense, and I didn't blame him. I wasn't feeling too different. In a more ideal world, I might have actually accepted their offer and maintained a low-key position.

Unfortunately, at this point, my wagon was firmly hitched to Maria's side. A part of it was I owed them. Not all of their assistance had been intentional, but without their initial help, my life wouldn't have been so easy.

Though, even ignoring that, supporting Maria was clearly the better option for me. They not only represented my only source of income, but they provided me unrestricted access to the dungeon, one without many uncomfortable questions being thrown around. Those two advantages were the cornerstone of my incredible development, and I wasn't ready to give them up.

Unfortunately, this meant that we had made some very determined rivals that would benefit from our failure.

"We should reinforce the security, sir," Harold said.

"Do that. Feel free to invest eighty percent of the profit back to security. And, purchase anything Eleanor is willing to give up based on credit."

"Isn't it a bit daring, sir? If anything goes badly, we might lose most of our income."

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"No risk it, no biscuit," I replied confidently. Admittedly, it was a significant diversion from my earlier attitude, as I was hoping to get a nice egg's nest in case, but the latest transformation of my skill had changed my mind.

That qualitative improvement meant that, one way or another, I would make money in a way that wouldn't be ruined by a new dungeon drop. A few extra golds I would be getting from the dungeon had suddenly turned useless.

It was a nostalgic feeling, one that I had lived through before. Back then, it was a trivial algorithm for a dating app that had unexpectedly given me a fortune that had allowed me to focus on my work rather than pandering to every little boring old man who thought themselves to be geniuses just because the university needed their donations.

And, this time, it was the Forge skill that gave me an opportunity for financial independence, the kind that not only allowed me to not have to worry about my personal income, but also research grants.

The irony was that both options — mathematical sociology as a discipline, and Blacksmith class — had been treated as useless options that could never be used to make a living by society.

Sometimes, stubbornness paid off.

I let my mind linger on the other things as I watched Harold organize the operation. The temporary construction workers were already separated into teams, but, to my surprise, only sixty crossbowmen split from the group. I would have expected him to pick more.

I asked about that when Harold walked to me once again. "They are the ones I preliminary picked for the guild, sir."

"The reason?" I asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.

"They are the only ones that show the mixture of initiative and the obedience we need," he said. "I thought it's better to expand a bit slowly rather than hiring people that would wash out after a few days."

A good point, but I was curious about his rationale. "And, you know that, how?"

"I was a marine before the Calamity, sir. A sergeant, to be exact. It helps me to see who will stick out and who won't."

"A good point," I said. "But, it must be hard to see the country you have fought so hard for disappearing into nothingness."

"Nothing I could do, sir," he said before he started explaining exactly how he picked up the candidates he had chosen.

The ease with which he had dismissed the value of his service and his country was interesting, mostly because it was a widespread phenomenon. I had tried to study that during my first days, but unfortunately, it was more of a psychological study than a sociological one. During the first days, I had just assumed it was the sheer impossibility of the Cataclysm breaking the old world order irrevocably.

But, now that I had discovered the Peace Field affecting every single town, I couldn't help but wonder if there was any external reason for people so easily abandoning their old-world allegiance and higher concepts.

And, if there was one, whether it was accidental … or intentional.

I sighed even as I shelved that track of thought as yet another topic that I would look into when I had time. Or, as it exceedingly became likely, if I had time. The number of research topics I wanted to explore was getting more and more bloated.

I missed having doctorate students whom I could throw those low-priority questions at. Maybe I should start looking for a similar arrangement now that I had the necessary resources. Maybe I should pay a visit to one of those research institutes that kept rejecting me and poach a few people. Poaching their best members with excessive payment would have been a fitting payback.

However, as much as I wanted to create a recruitment roadmap that doubled as a revenge plan, I had other things to focus on. Things that might not be as important in the grand scheme of things, but were certainly more urgent.

With the decision made, I focused on questioning Harold about the general direction for his recruitment and the security protocols as we walked toward the gate that connected the first and second floors.

And, I added a few twists of my own.

"Really, sir? Don't you think large silver murals on every wall are a bit excessive? It would take several tons of silvers at the minimum. It won't be easy."

"Showing off wealth helps display confidence," I said. "Not only do I want silver, but also I want you to cover the inner chambers with gold."

I could see just how bewildered that request made him. I didn't blame him, trying to make a dungeon fort pretty in such a gauche way was not a good statement. Unfortunately, the real reason was too important to reveal.

My Observe perk could only be used through metal. Silver and gold were much better than iron. Covering the walls with ugly murals would mean that, with little effort, I could establish an impressive scale of security.

Not to mention, having a near-unlimited source of silver and gold around would certainly be useful at some point.

"That's enough strategizing," I said even as I stood at the dungeon gate. "It's time to fight."

"Shall I go first, sir," Harold offered.

I thought about letting him do so in order to see his potential, but I decided against it. In a world where individual combat capability was the most important asset, a leader had to lead from the front to have even the slightest hope of fostering loyalty.

Even if the enemy was a bunch of insect monsters I could swat as easily as mosquitos.