The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft lines across my old, familiar bed.

My eyes blinked open slowly, a unusual dull ache in my leg first thing in the morning, a vague reminder of something, but nothing so severe it demanded my attention, I thought.

Just another groggy morning.

With a sigh, I peeled myself from the sheets and shuffled through my morning routine: shower, a quick breakfast, the monotony of it all.

Nothing out of the ordinary, just another boring day.

Work was as tedious as ever, the endless clack of keyboards and the soft murmur of office chatter a static background to my thoughts.

When the clock finally signaled the end of another long day, I trudged out, the weight of weariness in my steps.

Home again, the routine continued—shower, then dinner.

Tonight's meal was simple, something easy to eat in front of the computer.

I settled into my chair, the familiar glow of the screen in front of me lighting up the dim room.

I clicked on my favorite game, ready to dive back into a world where I felt I had control, where excitement awaited at every turn.

But something was off. My character on the screen wasn't the Bloodzerker I had been leveling for months.

Confusion furrowed my brow as I scanned the unfamiliar character.

This character... I didn’t create this. Frowning, I navigated to the character info, my cursor hovering over the unfamiliar skills list.

"[Summon Slime]?" I read aloud, a frown creasing my forehead. "What's this? I don’t remember any of this."

The room felt suddenly colder, the light from the screen too bright.

The numbers and skills blurred before my eyes, a sense of disorientation washing over me.

This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be right.

"Ah?!" And then, as if snapping from a deep trance, I woke up.

My breath came fast, my shirt clinging to my back with sweat.

It was just a dream—a vivid, jarring dream.

Laying there in the darkness of what I slowly recognized as a small, unfamiliar cave, the much to real memories rushed back. The dungeon, the viscous fiend, the excruciating pain...

I was still in Dungeon End. Not at home, not safe. But right here, in the depths of a challenge I had once thought I controlled from behind a screen.

Wobbling gently, the slime seemed to respond, its movements oddly comforting. I couldn't help but chuckle softly, despite the bleakness of my situation. "Thanks for sticking around, buddy."

As I tested the strength of my leg, moving it cautiously, relief washed over me—it responded without pain, fully functional as if it had never been maimed.

"I almost didn't make it..."

My survival felt like nothing less than a miracle.

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I was acutely aware of how close I had come to dying. The odds had been stacked heavily against me, and without a series of fortunate events, I would certainly have perished.

It was a stroke of luck—or perhaps fate—that I had the ability to summon slimes.

Being dropped into a part of the grotto inhabited by slime-like creatures might have seemed like a minor detail, but it played a crucial role in my survival.

The ability to communicate internally with my summons, their flawless execution of my desperate strategies, and even the recklessness of those adventurers who refused to help, each contributed to my narrow escape from death.

Every element came together just right, creating a narrow path through which I managed to cling to life.

Yet, that was just but a single instance of luck. I knew all to well, that luck was something that rarely occurred in this harsh world.

In the peripheral vision of my eye, a flicker of light caught my attention—a holographic notification beckoning for my focus.

"Oh, I completely overlooked this!"

The system notification announced that I had earned an achievement.

In Dungeon End, achievements were not only rare but also offered significant growth opportunities for characters.

They required meeting strict conditions and were notoriously difficult to earn.

The achievement I had unlocked was one of the most difficult to acquire: "Surviving from the Clutches of Death."

To earn this, a character's health must drop below five percent of its maximum and then recover without dying—a scenario that effectively brushes with death.

I was aware of this achievement from previous gameplay, but I had never actively pursued it.

Attempting to achieve it was almost a guaranteed way to doom a run, given the slim chances of survival from such a dire state.

Though the reward of plus one to physical and mental stats might seem modest, it was actually quite significant.

Especially increasing the mental stat was a rare feat in Dungeon End, where mana regeneration was solely dependent on rest, not potions or equipment.

With this improvement, my mana pool increased, directly impacting how often I could use my skills.

Previously, I could summon my slimes a maximum of three times with my total mana.

Now, with my mental stat increased to eleven, I was on the cusp of being able to afford an additional summon once I reached a mental stat of twelve.

With a deep breath, I pushed myself upright, steadying against the cold wall of the cavern. "I can't stay here forever."

The eerie quiet of the grotto was unnerving, but necessary.

If I were to survive and somehow make it out, I needed to be cautious, and above all, smart.

"I need to rethink my strategy."

I took a moment to delve deeper into my abilities, pulling up the skill information for my [Summon Slime] to see if there was anything useful I might have overlooked.

"Capable of basic actions... doesn't deal damage independently... can carry small objects within its body... acts as a minor distraction... serves as a scout... its gelatinous body can fit through tight spaces.... and.... crevices!"

"Of course! This could really work!" I realized, a spark of hope ignited by the potential uses of my skill that I hadn't fully considered before.

The idea was a bit morbid, but in Dungeon End, survival often meant capitalizing on every available resource, no matter how grim.

If adventurers frequently fell victim to the dungeon's numerous dangers, their abandoned gear could serve as a critical lifeline for someone like me, struggling on the brink of defeat.

"Item retrieval!" I murmured, considering the slimes' unique abilities to navigate tight and dangerous areas where I couldn't risk going.

If they could scout and retrieve items from fallen adventurers, I could potentially gather enough resources to make it out alive.

This approach could offer a safer alternative to the constant threat of combat, especially given my current vulnerabilities and the limited combat capabilities of my slimes.

It wasn't the noblest strategy, but in the ruthless environment of Dungeon End, pragmatism often outweighed courage, in my case reckless courage.

Fully recharged after resting, my mana pool was back to its full capacity. This allowed me a valuable opportunity.

"Summon Slime!" I declared, using all the mana I had to conjure three more slimes, totaling four obedient blobs.

"You'll be Slime 2, you're Slime 3, and you, Slime 4." I assigned them names methodically.

I laid out their mission with precision: "Your task is crucial. Navigate the grotto with caution, avoiding any conflicts with monsters or adventurers. Focus solely on retrieving items. Prioritize crystalized hearts and other small, valuable items that can fit within your gelatinous forms. Avoid bulky items like weapons or armor. Gather what you can and return directly to me. Understand?"

Each slime wobbled affirmatively, prepared to stealthily scour the grotto for treasures.

"Slime 1, you'll stay here with me as a precaution. The rest of you, go!" I commanded, making sure at least one slime remained for my direct protection.

The others wobbled once in acknowledgment and then dispersed silently into the dark, damp stretches of the grotto.