The next few days went by in a blur. My body almost seeming to move by itself as my mind pre-occupied itself with spreading more and more magic. To giving more and more commands to my ever-increasing army of drones and experimental creatures while the collection of trees that acted as pillars for the pseudo-Dungeon kept growing taller and thicker.

Similarly, the number of people working on the farm grew day by day after that loon's visit. Up to a thousand the last time I counted. The newcomers were always in awe at first. Always bone-thin too.

The more senior workers did most of the explaining and orientation for these new arrivals. Filling in the gaps that the loon and his accomplices might have left out for whatever reason. Then the senior workers got to harvesting. Their now healthy bodies moving with an elegant grace as they stripped entire patches of farmland clean within hours. before then moving on to the next patch and then the next one and the next one after that.

To say that I was surprised at the suddenness of the improvements would be like saying the loon could be a bit odd at times. That is, a massive understatement if there ever was one.

The newcomers always seemed to agree with me, given that they always spent their first few hours staring instead of eating.

However, they too turned to feasting and harvesting before long and before long they too began looking less like concentration camp victims and more like pro-athletes and models.

On average, the most major changes took place after an individual's second night here, but I'd also seen a few cases where some ghoulish-looking individuals gave up on harvesting and just went all-in on the produce. Those guys tended to show signs of renewed vitality within hours. Or after consuming three or four times their own body-weight in apples.

The idea of chastening those few people and getting them to work had never even crossed my mind, but the mere fact that I had stared at a few had created small bouts of panic among the senior members.

I hadn't thought too much about it on the night of the sixth day, when I decided to take my second round of sleep of the week. After all, everyone in the field worked way too much already. Without pay to boot.

If that insane bastard Mr. Robertson expected individual quotas from these people on top of that then he'd have to find someone else to enforce them. Presumably someone who would be as morally bankrupt as he was. Maybe a serial killer or a drug dealer or a lawyer or another, less accomplished human trafficker.

So, I awoke on the seventh day to the sound of a dozen people being viciously beaten by their coworkers.

I managed to break the lynch mob before anything too crazy happened but the 200 or so fresh arrivals got the message nonetheless. None of them took more than ten minutes at a time to eat that day. Despite all my very frequent protests, assurances that it would be fine and loud bouts of profanity directed at the loon and all his cronies.

No one listened.

Just like the loon had predicted, these people seemed to believe that being here was a privilege, rather than the result of a crazed codger's ambitions. No one tried to run. No one complained. No one so much as acknowledged my rants.

If anything, me badmouthing the old coot only made people work faster.

Even then, there simply wasn't enough manpower to rip the vegetables from the ground and the fruits from the branches. Not at the rate they were growing. Not at the rate the farm was expanding. Certainly not at the rate new trucks were teleporting in and out.

So, I had to bring up a few hundred drones to help with the harvest and then I had to send them back down when they scared the living daylights out of the newcomers.

Which was a moot point in any case because the loon showed up with another thousand or so people the next day.

I did my best to focus on the farm then, just as I did whenever he showed back up. Trying very hard to avoid looking at him in hopes he went away. Like a bad dream or some mythical goblin that stole candy from little children.

'Now that I think of it, I wouldn't really put it past him.'

Sadly, it didn't work.

"Cecil my boy! How have you been?"

I felt my body cringe at the question. My mind replaying our last conversation over and over. Specifically the part where he'd disclosed what he'd thought of me. And what he'd expected.

"Fine." I said simply. Trying to focus on the magic flowing through the roots beneath my feet.

"That's great to hear." Mr. Robertson continued. "You know, the work you've been doing really has been invaluable to all of us. I can't even begin to explain how much good we've accomplished in these last few days. Both here and abroad. I mean, wow! Just wow! You've got some of these people to 2's in all their stats! Just from heavy labor alone! Imagine what they'll be able to do when the real Dungeon manifests!"

That last sentence piqued my interest, if only for a second.

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My own training had only intensified after he'd removed his mask, but the gains I was getting per day were shrinking more and more. And that was with me lugging around several tons of produce without rest for days on end. While also draining my own magical reserves over and over again without stopping. While also keeping a steady connection with an ever-increasing number of creatures and having them grow the little pseudo-Dungeon I'd prepared.

No matter how hard I tried as of late, I couldn't help but feel as though I'd hit a wall.

The crazy coot had the nerve to laugh then. Despite me not saying anything.

"Oh Cecil! That's what I love about you! No matter how hard you work, you always find a way to surpass my expectations! You know, most children your age would be on their knees begging to go hoke or to get some days off to play video games or something. Not you. I purposely gave you the freedom to take as many days of as you wanted, but the notion of treating this retreat as a break never even occurred to you. It says a lot about your character. About your work ethic. It means you'll go far."

An image of what my new goal was flashed into my brain and I immediately rushed to think of literally anything else. The last thing I needed was this freak catching on to...

"Cecil. I don't mind that you want to hurt me." Mr. Robertson interrupted.

'Oh. Oh no.'

"No. Really. I don't. It's good to have a goal one can aspire to. And I do deserve the ill feelings after my outburst. I'm at least mature enough to admit that."

He drew in a deep, heavy breath. As if to steady himself.

"I also possess enough self-awareness to know that we've put a lot of pressure on you when you're only 14. That was wrong. I felt that I had good reasons for doing so back then and to an extent, I still feel that. But it doesn't make what we've done to you any better. I deserve the grudges you're keeping now. Just like I deserve all those things you're thinking about me."

He hesitated.

"I also deserve all the suspicion you're treating me with. It is true that this apology is too little, too late and it is true that I still plan on having you work the farm. At least part-time. However, I want to involve you in the process now. I want you to feel like your opinions are heard and appreciated. Because they are. While we have been pushing a lot of burdens on you, those burdens should come with both recognition and a say in things."

He stopped.

"Does that make sense?"

"Yes. Thank you." I said. While once more trying very hard to keep my true thoughts hidden.

The loon sighed.

"I understand." He said at last. "I'll leave you to your training again. The new Dungeon should be up and functional by tomorrow. When it manifests, I'll bring in your classmates and the older children so that all of you can have a crack at it together. I realize that no one has gotten much use out of your experimental false Dungeon yet, but I'm sure all your peers will be able to appreciate the work you've put into this project before they actually tackle the Dungeon. After a day of delving, I'll send you home for a week of rest and normal schooling. The curriculum in our circles is more magic-focused so I think you'll like it. And being next to your friends will do you some good."

With that, the loon turned and walked towards a clearly exhausted Casper. With all the casual grace of a villain who'd gotten everything they wanted with minimal effort.

That gait, that lack of concern, was infuriating. Almost as much as my own weakness. My own helplessness.

What I wanted to do... What I felt was the right thing to do, would have been to run. To expose this maniac to the world and to then start growing magical gardens all over the place so people could take as much food as they wanted. Free of charge.

But I couldn't.

Even if I discounted how much of a filthy cheat mind-reading was, everyone else in Dunstonberry was an invincible superhuman compared to me. Even someone my age like Julian or Fernanda or Elsie would be able to break me like a twig, simply by virtue of being more experienced and a higher level. Their raw stats made them stand head and shoulders above me, no matter what I did.

To say nothing of guys like Casper, with his literal teleportation or Coach Russell and his broken stats.

The more I thought about it, the more helpless I felt and the more helpless I felt, the angrier I became. My heart roiling with a burning, searing grudge that I couldn't act upon. Until it festered like a pus-filled wound.

'It's just like that night. When that fugly Candice bitch was making fun of my aunt. I'm furious, but I can't actually do or say anything because everyone else is so much stronger than me. I'm a prisoner. I'm being treated nicely because I can contribute food and because I haven't made any big problems for my jailors. Yet. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm trapped.'

And the stats had slowed down. Right when I needed them most. Right when I started working harder than I'd ever worked before.

It felt as though there were walls around me. Stretching unto infinity in every direction. The fact that they were invisible, didn't make them any less real.

It was yet another layer to the feelings of impotence. To the humiliation.

'I won't stand for it. I can't.' I thought to myself. 'I have people that are relying on me. My aunt and uncle and little Eva. I can't stop now. I have to get stronger. Strong enough that even sick freaks like Mr. Robertson think twice before messing with me.'

But the more I thought about it, the more I kept going round and round and round again.

Levelling and improving myself took time. Time that I would have to spend being complicit in this farce.

'Then there are the numbers to consider.' I recalled bitterly. 'Even if by some miracle I can get a good five levels in the next month, I'll still be outnumbered and outclassed by thousands of cronies loyal to the loon and his sick fantasies. Including my friends. And their families.'

That last part was especially poignant to me.

The money and the weapons and the resources could potentially be dealt with. I had considered the monsters I had grown and the new versions I was making every day and I figured they'd at least be enough to buy time. If used correctly.

But the thought of fighting my friends? Their families?

Did I have it in me?

I cursed myself again and resumed my training session. Figuring that it was at least a surefire way to make some progress.

Then I stopped. My toes feeling an odd sensation from the grasses and the roots below me. Carried all the way from the thick, twisting roots of the halls I had dug up.

There were creatures down there. In the lowest depths.

Ones I hadn't created. Materializing from new passages that opened up from beneath the earth.

Those creatures then faced my own monsters.

The roses and the sunflowers and the tulips and the new green-bean brutes I had fashioned from drones.

I couldn't tell exactly how many were coming up for their first taste of surface air. Nor how varied they were in size of strength.

What I could tell, was that my own forces were rushing down to meet them. Matching them, blow for blow. Bloodlust for bloodlust.

And that my team was winning.

Then, I felt the feedback and recalled the sudden boost to my stats I'd gotten after delving last week.

I was running down to the tunnels before the people around me had a chance to blink.