“You took over one of your nakamas’ bodies? That’s not cool. Unless you find it erotic, and it’s totally consensual, I won’t judge.”

“Consensual, no, but it was necessary,” the young girl replied, while undoing her long ponytail. “I needed a more mature female body. There are only two at my disposal from the bosses’ list, so I ended up picking the one with the longer hair.”

Although only a torch outside of the cell illuminated the place, Clara could examine the features of the resulting amalgamation in front of her. A 5 feet and 1 inches tall, eighteen-year-old teen. With a heart-shaped face and silver eyes. Eliza’s violet-colored hair was now platinum white, reminiscent of Serenity’s.

When the Little Lady used to smile, she looked gentle and playful, but this time… it creeps me out.

“W-what were you saying about clothes?” Clara asked.

“I want to get rid of this maid outfit,” the teen said, picking the helm of her skirt. “After all, I’m not Eliza.”

Who is this girl that can change ‘bodies’ on a whim?

“Oh, I get what you mean! A long time ago, when I took on a long vacation, I changed my hairstyle. It didn’t feel right to look the same anymore.”

“Didn’t feel right…” the teen repeated, tilting her head. “That’s exactly what I’m experiencing right now! It doesn’t feel right to use Eliza’s clothes since I’m not her!”

This conversation is freaking me out.

“Y-yes, exactly! You don’t mind wearing used clothes?” Clara asked, opening her User Interface.

“It’s okay! As long as it’s something from the outside world,” the teen said, beaming.

She’s creepy, but adorable at the same time! Is this what Stockholm Syndrome feels like?

“Alright… Let me see…” Clara opened a system window, expanded it, and tapped the ‘shared visibility’ icon. “Let me show you some of my selfies. This way it’ll be easier for you to choose the clothes you like. What about these cute overalls? Good to combat the heat--”

“No,” the girl quickly replied emotionlessly.

“O-okay, then… Aren’t these leggins fabulous? It makes my butt look--”

“No.”

“My Fabio loves when I wear this shirt!”

“No.”

“What were you giving me in exchange again?”

“Whatever you choose from this dungeon’s loot pool.”

“So bronze-tier artifacts, huh…” Clara muttered, swiping picture after picture, until landing on one where she wore a pink skintight suit.

“What is that?” the teen asked.

“T-that’s my official Miss Cosmica’s racing suit.”

“Can I have it? It would help me line these new curves perfe--”

“N-no way! I commend you for having good taste, but this is important to me! It’s a limited edition suit I won from a raffle! You have no idea how many tears of joy flew that day.”

The teen remained silent, staring at Clara.

She’s not grimacing, but I can feel murderous intent!

“Can I be the one looking at the photos, then?” the teen asked calmly.

“Sure,” Clara replied, pushing the window towards her. Come on, Clara, use this opportunity. She cleared her throat. “So… What’s your job here, anyway?”

“I’m this Dungeon’s Director,” the girl replied, without taking her eyes off the screen. Tapping the pictures.

“By ‘director’, you mean…?”

“That’s self-explanatory.”

Nope, I don’t get it.

“You have control over the dungeon? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes.”

So… Like a Novus’ Ai assistant?

“So what? You weren’t comfortable in your original child's body and swapped bodies with a Duplicate? Won’t your new body disappear if Eliza is defeated?”

“This is not a ‘duplicate’ of Eliza. In order for the transfer to work, I had to use her original files. I overwrote my data over hers… How about this outfit?” She pointed at the screen. “Can you trade it with me?”

Out of my entire wardrobe, you had to choose that one?

Clara pursed her lips and searched for them in her Inventory. I’m not Unus Town’s mayor anymore, and I don’t have any attachment to them, so…

“Sure, you can have them.”

Clara pulled out a pencil skirt, a blazer, a white shirt, a pair of pantyhose, and black, heeled office shoes.

Even though clothes get automatically clean on a daily basis, it would feel wrong to tell her I used this outfit regularly… And I said ‘regularly’, because, although these were my formal clothes, people rarely visited the Townhall.

While watching the girl change clothes, Clara recalled the moment Alan Warden stepped inside the Townhall, looking to register a new guild.

“Are you okay with your dungeon missing a boss?”

“It’s okay.” The girl shrugged. “I can make additional copies of Eliora. Individually, The Housemaids were the weakest out of the repertoire anyway, and their ‘Teamwork’ gimmick became obsolete as soon as I could copy Count Dylak indefinitely.” The teen then grinned and twirled. “How do I look?”

Clara half-smiled. “It really suits you. You look like a real ‘director’ now.”

Unlike me. No matter what I wore, I always looked like a shut-in…

The teen giggled, acting like a little lady again for a moment. “As I promised, choose something from this list.”

She made a System Window appear by waving her hand, but Clara absently tapped on it, selecting something randomly.

“But, if you overwrote your data over the original Eliza, doesn’t that mean that you technically killed her? Wasn’t she one of your own? A NU?”

Clara’s eyes suddenly widened.

Wait… What did I do?!

She glanced back at the loot window, disappearing.

A bronze-tier artifact? CRAP! I messed it up! I should have selected something good for Alan!

She then turned her gaze towards the girl, who had remained silent. The Director snapped her fingers, and someone came out of the shadows.

Oh, shit!

Clara retreated to a corner at the sight of a Count Dylak coming forward. The Duplicate barely glanced at her, for he was busy bending the cell's metal bars so that the girl could enter.

The Director then strolled towards Clara and sat on the bed, hands intertwined in her lap. Even though she was wearing a different ‘body’, her lady-like persona was still engraved in her programming.

“Tell me, Clara, are you familiar with the Novus’ lore?” she asked, smiling.

My friends are fighting outside while I’m here for story time? Clara swallowed, shaking her head slightly.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Wait, no… I’ve gotten a lot of info out of this encounter. As I suspected, this girl is the key to escape this mess.

“Only the basics, I’m afraid? We, the Users, came from another world and stuff… In the lore, the Novus is called another dimension or something.”

“Allow me to refresh your memory then,” the girl said, warmly smiling at her. “According to John Espitia, The Myth Administrator, The Novus it’s a higher plane of existence, where the last surviving people from a dying world come here to train the mind and body, before they can be reborn and conquer the stars.”

“Not much different from reality…”

The girl raised her index finger. “This is where it turns into fiction, and this dungeon enters the frame. In order to give this world a challenge, the Old Gods created hostile monsters and gave tremendous power to the original inhabitants...”

“Do you mean the NPCs?”

“Correct! Count Dylak, his wife, and their personnel were assigned to build a manor for resting and training. Their visitors would be inexperienced fighters after all, so Count Dylak was tasked with guiding and training every new adventurer entering his domains.

»But with the passing time, the Messengers of the Old Gods noticed that the First Adventurers would avoid the manor entirely. That’s because anyone that entered never left.

»These holy messengers, capable of seeing beyond space and time, found out that Count Dylak had turned the manor into a honeypot trap for every unsuspected adventurer in order to get their riches.

»After a warm welcome, giving them a false sense of security, the adventurers staying for the night could die in a variety of ways:

»Stabbed by Cook Monier if they ate more than necessary.

»Poisoned by Professor Spiegel if they outsmarted him, or shown to be more knowledgeable than him.

»Tortured to death by the Housemaid twins, once they lured the victims into their private chambers.

»Smashed to death by Housekeeper Bilmur if one ventured too much inside the mansion, or stepped into the forbidden areas.

»Burned alive by Butler Marick if one did not follow his strict etiquette rules.

»Decapitated by Count Dylak if one bragged about possessing something valuable in front of him.

»Or strangled by the Countess immediately, if a beautiful woman or man entered the household…”

Countess? Clara thought, squinting. Is that a boss we haven’t seen yet?

The Director continued: “After the Old Gods were informed of this transgression, they interrogated every member of the mansion and got the following confessions… Wait, let me access their voice files. This will make it more dramatic! Monier confessed…” The Director changed her voice to that of a man: “‘I only did it when the guests were being ungrateful.’

»Spiegel said: ‘I only did it when the guests mocked me,’” she quoted, in a high-pitched male voice.

“Eliora & Eliza followed: ‘We only did it when the guests ogled at my sister!’

»Bilmur whispered: ‘I did it every time the guests overstepped their limits.’

»Marick hissed: ‘I did it because I could not stand their rudeness!’

»Dylak shouted: ‘I did it because it’s unfair that they can explore this new world and hoard all of its treasures, while I’m being kept here!’”

»The Countess confessed: ‘I did it because I despise the arrogance of certain people. It disgusts me’!”

Clara shivered, recognizing that childlike voice.

“This tale turned really dark, huh…” Clara muttered. “So, did the Old Gods punish them?”

“Yes, before asking them what truly resided in their hearts. Monier said: ‘I just want people to appreciate my food!’

»Spiegel: ‘I just want to be the smartest man around.’

»Eliora & Eliza: ‘I just want to be with my sister.’

»Bilmur: ‘I just want to be useful.’

»Marick: ‘I just want to keep serving this family.’

»Dylak: ‘I want my freedom back!’

»Countess: ‘I want everyone to admire me and be loved…’”

The Director paused to examine Clara’s frown.

“That’s it?” Clara asked. “What was their punishment, then?”

“Continue working in the manor, of course! Cook Monier learned how to make the most delicious dishes and potions, but his never-ending hunger could only be satisfied by consuming human flesh.

»Professor Spiegel was gifted with a godly intellect, as long as he didn’t leave his library. So he could only share his knowledge with the little critters living between his shelves and in every corner of his self-imposed prison.

»Housekeeper Bilmur literally became the perfect sentinel, bound to guard the mansion and its surrounding woods without a minute of rest.

»Housemaid Eliora and Eliza became inseparables. If one exited the room or walked too far away, the other would feel an agonizing pain. And if one saw the other sister with another man or woman, they would murder the third party without hesitation.

»Butler Marick became a gentler, more polite man that would do everything in his power to help others. But would enter a murderous trance if interacted with his own people from the mansion.

»Count Dylak, who became the most powerful and wealthy of the region, was cursed to never see the light of day ever again.

»Lastly, The Countess became the most beautiful woman in the world by day, but was unable to leave the mansion. By night, she would become a child that fell asleep as soon as her husband awoke.”

“That only made them more dangerous!” Clara cried.

“This turned them into monsters, Clara. Not much different from those that roam the fields and swamps.”

“I… I don’t get it. What was the moral of the story? Don’t do bad stuff? Because every single one of them did what they did for completely different reasons.”

“It’s true that you’re missing the point, Clara Dominguez. Tell me, do you really think the Old Gods really judged the Dungeon NPCs for their ‘crimes’? Or was every single Boss designed like that from the start?”

“Um… Well…”

The Director stood up, locking eyes with Clara. “Just look at the timeline. The Old Gods punished Dylak and company for supposedly killing the ‘First Adventures’, but when the first Users of the Eurola Region came to challenge this place, the Bosses were already in their monstrous form.”

“This is all lore, like you said, then.”

“Exactly,” The Director said, strolling towards Clara. “All these backstories, these characters’ justifications to do evil, all these excuses the Developers created so that you, the Users, wouldn’t feel bad killing them… All of this it’s made up. It means nothing to this Dylak over here, nor to any of the other bosses. Do you really think Housemaid Eliora will cry the absence of her ‘sister’? Pleaseee.”

“S-she might, now that she’s a NU,” Clara said, trying to create some space between them, but the Dylak Duplicate blocked the path.

“She would be a defective NU, then. That we gained individuality doesn’t mean we have to act like you, the humans.”

“Whoah! First time I’ve heard that word from a--”

“From a ‘bot’?”

“I wasn’t going to say that!”

“Do you want me to give you another example of why I didn’t bat an eye while messing up with Eliza's files?” The Director placed one hand against the wall, cornering Clara. “Dylak’s wife, The Countess boss, it’s unfinished. The Developers never incorporated her into the dungeon.”

“The Countess? They cursed her to be a child, right? Was that the little girl you were using before?”

“When Viola Lang updated me, I didn’t have a body like the others, so I took the only one available. Although The Countess’ avatar was already finished, the Developers never bothered programming her into the dungeon. Do you want to know why? I read their entire exchange through chat logs they left behind.”

“Because it would look bad if Users killed a child, even if it was just an NPC?”

The Director raised her eyebrows and nodded.

“Oh, you got it right. That’s correct. The Developers didn’t care if they were messing with the Lore. They preferred to be morally correct than to adhere to their original vision. There’s even a painting portraying The Countess somewhere in the mansion that they didn’t even bother to remove or may have forgotten about. Do you get it now?”

“Nothing matters?”

“That’s right!” the teen shouted, as her silver eyes glowed. “You implied that removing Housemaid Eliza out of existence was wrong? Well, if even The Developers don’t care about messing with these dungeon’s balance, why should I?”

“Alan Warden has reached the Boss Chambers,” the Dylak Duplicate beside them informed.

“Thanks for trading with me, Clara Dominguez…” The Director said, stepping back. “The System will release you automatically once the dungeon resets. In the meantime, stay here for a little while.”

“Wait! You mentioned that already! What will happen once this dungeon resets?”

“That’s self-explanatory,” The Director said, turning around.

Does that mean that all the defeated bosses will respawn again?! I can’t let that happen!

Clara pulled out her staff and quick-cast ‘Devil’s Tail’, but the Dylak Duplicate took the hit, shielding his boss.

The sound of the whip echoed through that prison.

3% damage…

“You don’t get it, Clara,” The Director said, peeping at her from the corner of her eye. “It doesn’t matter if this new body gets destroyed. I have administrative powers. Unlike the bosses, I remain active. You can’t stop this. I’m just doing my work. Alan Warden and the low-levelers from Unus Town will thank me in the end.”

“T-trust me! The people from New Unus Town won’t appreciate that you force them to fight! They chose to live in that place because they wanted nothing more than a quiet life! They have already gone through a lot lately! Don’t disturb their peace, please!”

“Too late,” The Director said, stepping out of the cell. “I’ve sent the first Dylak squad. Even if Alan Warden defeats the original, I can send more later on. This will be their preliminary test.”

Oh, mierda…

Clara bit her lip while watching the teen go. The Dylak in front of her would not move an inch.

Even if I was a terrible mayor, I can’t let my ex-citizens experience another calamity. The Slime-folk are now living there, too, and if I understood correctly, they risk even more than us when dying.

She wrinkled her nose, and tightened her grip around her staff, looking up at the towering Duplicate.

We, Phantom Seekers, are the protectors of the weak. Don’t we, Alan?