“So, you all want to join my team?!”
Eirik blinked at the group of girls in front of him, momentarily speechless as their excitement hit him like a tidal wave.
In every simulation game, there are rankings and rewards, but most of these girls had never tasted the glory of success. Their past simulations had left them stuck in the lower ranks—nothing more than ants beneath the feet of giants—far from earning any real rewards. All they had to show for their efforts were the memories of those failures.
But even those memories were invaluable, serving as hard-won experience in the magical arts. With those lessons, mastering magic in the real world would be far easier. This is why so many female players were eager to dive into these simulations.
Forget about unattainable cosmic powers—just reaching the Savant level in this game was enough to give them a significant edge in real life. And now, with the promise of rewards in this dungeon, how could they resist?
As they followed Miss Fennec through the dense forest and found Eirik, the girls buzzed with excitement. Having just defeated the treant boss, they eagerly gathered around him, practically begging to join his team.
Eirik surveyed the eager faces around him, feeling the weight of their expectations. Sure, he had plenty of resources, but could he really handle all these aspiring teammates?
He had to consider his own rating, too. The more people he took in, the lower his quality of life would become, and with it, his dungeon rating would drop. Managing just one Pixie was already a challenge.
“...”
As he stood there, surrounded by the girls, Miss Fennec couldn't help but smile wryly. Wasn't this supposed to be about self-reliance? Couldn't they show a little restraint? Sure, life with her might have been a little less glamorous compared to Eirik's, but did they really need to fawn over him this much? If they could just see how desperate they looked—throwing themselves at him—it was downright embarrassing.
Covering her face in exasperation, Fennec sighed.
“Sorry, but I’m not looking for that many people right now,” Eirik said gently, turning down the eager offers.
“Did you hear that? Sorry!” Violanda chuckled darkly, stepping forward, her iron bar gleaming ominously in her hand. She was ready for anything. “I bet some of you used to call me the ‘Rejection Hound’ behind my back, huh? Seeing you all flounder like this? It’s honestly a little satisfying.”
While the other players were still stuck at Stalwart levels 2 and 3, Violanda had already reached Practitioner level—a huge gap between them. With her blocking the way, the other girls hesitated, suddenly intimidated.
Eirik felt like he was trapped in the middle of a fan frenzy, and just as he thought he might slip away, a frantic, pleading voice cried out from behind him.
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“Eirik! Violanda… she left me outside! Please don’t leave me here!”
Eirik turned to see Pixie, having tripped and scraped her little legs, looking utterly pitiful.
Violanda, standing nearby, shrugged and said, “Uh… there’s just too many people. I didn’t see her.”
Eirik's eyes narrowed. Really? Was Violanda really that clumsy, or was it something else? He sighed. He had promised to bring Pixie along, after all.
With Pixie finally in tow, they broke free from the crowd and cast a flight spell toward the valley. For now, only Elvynna and Violanda had reached Practitioner level and could fly. Eirik held Violanda around the waist, while Pixie clung to Elvynna's back.
Life on the island was simple, filled with magic lessons and lighthearted moments—well, as lighthearted as they could be. Though there was certainly close contact, any possibility of intimacy was nonexistent, with four pairs of watchful eyes following Eirik’s every move.
On top of that, Eirik suspected there was a hidden quest in this dungeon: finding a rescue team to return to the Metropolis! He made sure to carve giant SOS signals into the nearby mountaintops and even used some radio equipment to send distress signals.
Meanwhile, Miss Fennec, through tireless effort, had managed to build a few wooden cabins with her crew, establishing a small village. Their living conditions had improved somewhat, but they still paled in comparison to Eirik’s team—especially when it came to strength.
Interestingly, players from the Central Land began appearing in the world chat. There was speculation that unlocking the chat feature was tied to power—players who had reached a certain level and interacted with the Elemental Spring could now access it.
And just like that, thirty days passed in the blink of an eye.
One morning, as Eirik brushed away the small hand that had been groping him in his sleep to grab a drink, he was jolted by a familiar roar outside.
“Wait a second, that sound… it sounds familiar…”
He threw open the window and saw several helicopters descending into the valley. The deafening roar was unmistakable—the sound of helicopter rotors.
“Those choppers… They don’t look like rescue helicopters. The insignia… it rings a bell…”
Eirik rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Holy hell, weren't those the research facility’s helicopters?!
Before he could think further, the system voice chimed in.
[Congratulations! Survival dungeon task completed!]
As the voice echoed, Eirik felt a fleeting darkness wash over him, and before he knew it, he had been pulled back into reality.
The system continued its announcement.
[Your overall rating is SSSS—unparalleled in the world!]
The rating system ranged from S to C, with S being the highest and C the lowest. Each tier had levels from 1 to 4, with S being the lowest and SSSS the highest. Eirik had earned a perfect score!
[Tasks completed: Wilderness scavenging, shelter building, wreckage clearing, electrical engineer, vine monster nemesis, treant magic core, leisurely living…]
Accompanying these words was a grand illustration.
In the image, Eirik stood confidently in a suit, exuding the mature charm of a seasoned man. Behind him was a half-ethereal cabin hall, with Elvynna, Violanda, Pixie, and Liora lounging on sofas—some sipping juice, others gaming, a few playing with adorable animals. If the backdrop weren’t an island, it could have easily been a cozy family portrait.
And in the corner of the image were Fennec and Selene, looking haggard and cramped in a tiny cave, toiling away to turn oxidized magical fruits into treasures.
Every player received the same grand illustration, despite the different outcomes.
“Damn, that’s a gut punch, isn’t it?”
Fennec’s cheeks flushed with humiliation.
Was the system mocking her? That was downright cruel!
Selene, too, felt utterly defeated, heart aching as she glanced at her once-promising disciple Liora—now sitting comfortably at the back, playing with a little black cat, surely scoring high—while she herself had failed again…