Countdown until level collapse: 4 days 13 hours.

“So, what was it like inside?” Ben asked.

“I don’t know. I turned to go fetch you the moment that I found a door that said tutorial guide.” Darryl said dismissively.

“Really? You didn’t? Why?”

“Because I wasn’t going to leave you behind, I told you that.”

Ben shrugged, not at all taken aback or endeared by the comment. “Yeah, but you would’ve unlocked all kinds of stuff if you took the damn tutorial guide before turning around. The ability to loot for one, and the ability to open your boxes to get some weapons. Instead, we’re once again walking these halls unarmed and unprotected.”

Darryl said nothing, unable to refute that he had indeed been an idiot.

In his defence, he hadn’t been in the most vivid mindset at the time. Even after collecting himself to get back up and out of that horrible place, the sheer realisation of the unreal dungeon he was now trapped in had weighed on his mind.

He had just wandered until he found the guild door, and then wandered a lot more until he managed to find his way back to the safe room. He could’ve really used that minimap, which probably would’ve been unlocked after the tutorial as well. Darryl had really been an idiot for not making that realisation and going back.

When he came to pick up Ben, he found the kid with a full belly and a lot cleaner. Apparently the door to the bedrooms, and consequently the showers, unlocked once you asked the Bopca caretaker for a room. Ben fashioned a rickety splint made out of a chair leg and torn bed sheets, and Darryl had showered himself before they left off.

The smell remained. There were no washing machines so Darryl had just awkwardly held his clothes under the showerhead and tried to rub off the gore, but without detergent he had only gotten rid of the worst of it.

Fortunately the stains were pretty uniform so it wasn’t that obvious that it wasn’t the original design, and with the wool gone it no longer tickled like crazy.

The trek was mostly uneventful. Knowing the danger they posed, Darryl turned around the moment he saw any of the ant creatures and thus wasn’t surrounded by workers when a soldier shrieked. He didn’t get near those freaky floating squids either.

Other than that, it was just the same exercise of frustration. Finding a door whose general location you only kind of knew in a disorienting labyrinth of nigh identical hallways certainly wasn’t fun. But eventually he recognised one of the bathroom doors that acted as landmarks and finally found his way back to the guild.

Darryl put Ben down so he could walk in on his own, just in case the same bug as with the bathroom applied here, and knocked on the door. A muffled voice said it was unlocked, so Darryl carefully opened it. He peeked in after discerning that no trap or ambush had sprung.

The guild was a large living room with a fireplace crackling and emanating an inviting warmth. Well, half a living room and half a classroom with a nonsensical transition between the two. The side that Darryl first looked at appeared to be a homely and personal one-room living quarters with bed and all, while the other side was a classroom ripped straight out of a Japanese school anime with half the desks and chairs scattered about while only a few stood proper.

Darryl ignored the classroom side for now, as it appeared deserted and bereft of anything useful. He instead looked at the two figures sitting near the fireplace looking at him, turned around to Ben and nodded, and then entered the room.

Ben hobbled in after him and Darryl closed the door, supporting Ben as they made their way over to the fish and the human. The human immediately stood up to offer Ben his armchair while he went to collect two chairs from the classroom side, while the fish-man remained seated.

Crawler # 9,438,236. “Thomas R. Haanen”

Level 1.

Race: Human.

Class: Not yet assigned.

“See?” Ben chuckled. “There’s always another Thomas wherever I go, it’s some cruel joke of fate.”

Darryl absentmindedly nodded as he studied the human. He was about 1.85m tall with an athletic build and long curling hair, but the way he avoided making eye-contact and the speed with which he’d jumped to go grab more seats suggested he was either shy or anti-social. Maybe both.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The fish-man was about two feet tall and looked quite ridiculous with a fish’s head glued on a scaled humanoid body. The fish had to turn their head to the side so they could look at him with one large unblinking eye, and a row of sharp teeth occasionally flashed from underneath his lips.

Volos – Kua-Tin Rogue.

Level 49.

Guildmaster of this guild hall.

This is a Non-Combatant NPC.

As much as the Kua-Tin may be a glorious race of brave heroes and savvy businessmen, what few Kua-Tin roam these halls are not of the same cloth. Exiles, prisoners or those crazy enough to come to the dungeon for ‘adventure and fun’, any Kua-Tin encountered anywhere but the 9th floor is some nutjob you can put down without fearing Borant’s wrath. Except this rogue already shanked you thrice over before you finished reading this message, so killing them would just be petty vengeance at this point.

Darryl helped Ben sit down and then nodded thanks to Thomas as he was offered one of the small chairs. Being a lot taller than the high school students the chairs were meant for, both men awkwardly stretched their legs out to compensate for the too small seat.

Meanwhile the two smaller men who would fit these chairs much better were sitting in more lavish armchairs that made them look even smaller. The sight might’ve been quite comedic if someone else would be watching upon the scene right now.

“Hi, so this is a tutorial guild?” Darryl asked.

The fish nodded.

“Alright, nice. I’ll let you two finish up and then hopefully you can give Ben and me a tutorial next.”

“Oh no, I already took the tutorial an hour ago.” Thomas said. “I’ve been here waiting for you.”

“For us?” Darryl raised an eyebrow.

“Well, not you specifically.” Thomas said. “Rather, anyone at all. Apparently this guild hall connects to a great many doors scattered throughout the entire dungeon, not just the one you guys came through, ensuring that every guildmaster gets at least a few crawlers to guide.”

“So, I've been waiting here hoping that I could join you guys.” Thomas said. “Being out there alone is suicide, and if I join your party I can leave this place out the same door as you guys came in through.”

“That’s correct.” Volos the fish-guy said. “Though we guildmasters cannot tell you these things at our own initiative, party-waiting by using a loophole in the guildhall entrance system has been a valid early-game tactic for many editions of the world-dungeon now.”

“Many people can sit around the guild hall for a couple of hours and find someone else suddenly popping in, leading to the natural discovery of this technique. And some like Thomas here figure it out by themselves.” Volos continued. “As this part of the dungeon isn’t available to the public yet anyway, Borant doesn’t mind more crawlers surviving by finding strength in numbers.”

“And I assume you speak for Borant, fish?” Ben asked.

Darryl threw Ben a questioning glance, and Ben shrugged as he explained “This is a Kua-Tin, one of those fish-people we saw on the door. The race that made this dungeon. Who own this place.”

“Ah.” Darryl said as he tensed up with clenched fists. He glared at the fish sitting in front of him, trying to figure out a plan before the anger that welled up in him would overtake his senses.

“Yes and no.” Volos said, unaware of Darryl’s clear hostility. He had turned his head to look at Ben, thus putting Darryl in his blind spot despite appearing to look straight at him had he been a human. “I do speak for Borant in some regard, but I’m not quite a Kua-Tin. Believe me, they don’t have their own people working in lowly positions like mine.”

“You’re almost level 50, doesn’t sound like a lowly position to me.” Thomas said.

“Then again, the dwarf in the safe room was like level 60 and he was pretty much just a grumpy servant.” Ben said.

“True, high levels for NPCs mean next to nothing in this game. Being inside the dungeon without admin status means you’re just another expendable lowlife to the company.” Volos said. “Though my levels are earned rather than assigned.”

“Oh?” Ben said to have Volos elaborate on that, while Darryl focussed on his breathing to calm down. It was quite startling how intense the impulse to attack Borant had been, how vivid the image of Rex dying in his arms was when he saw one of the people responsible for that. A second later and he might’ve missed that Volos wasn’t one of them.

“Well, I was once a crawler like you guys.” Volos said. “A goblin, to be specific. But at the third floor you’ll get the option to change your race, and I chose the race of the ones that were running the show for brownie points.”

“And what does that grant you?” Ben said, leaning in with the interest dripping off his tongue.

“Much less than you might think.” Volos dissuaded his enthusiasm. “Turns out there’s Kua-Tin that are part of the party, and the ones that are not. The latter are all but second-class citizens, while we dungeon-employees are unapologetically third-rate. Picking this race didn’t raise me none and I can’t exactly join the party in here, nor did the choice endear me to the executives the way I hoped.”

“Well, at least that’s one race I now know I shouldn’t pick.” Ben said, falling back into his chair.

“I agree. They may be a successful faction in the universe, but their tiny bodies are not a boon for descending the dungeon.” Volos said. “But let’s move on to the reason you guys are here. The tutorial, and getting your leg fixed up.”

“You can heal my leg?” Ben said, immediately leaning in again. “See, Darryl, I told you they’d have healing magic in here.”

“Well, no. I cannot and won’t heal you.” Volos said. “I won’t need to, you’ll be able to heal yourself by the time I’m done talking. And then issues like your leg will become temporary nuisances.”

“Even better!” Ben fist-pumped.

“I like your enthusiasm, kid. Most crawlers are either hiding their discomfort and panic behind a thin veil of pleasantries, or hating this entire situation and looking for someone to aim their hatred at.” Volos said with a toothy grin that actually made the toddler-sized fish-man look somewhat menacing. “So, let’s get started. Do you want a quick intro, or the full tutorial?”