I woke up slowly, feeling the world come back into focus around me.

There was no confusion, no disorientation—just a strange calmness that settled over me as I opened my eyes.

The sterile white ceiling above me was unfamiliar, but I knew exactly where I was: some sort of medical care room.

I could feel the bandages wrapped tightly around my body, covering the wounds that had nearly killed me.

My arm, which I had been so certain was lost, was whole again, moving easily as I flexed my fingers.

The pain was gone, as if it had never existed, but the memory of that moment was still fresh in my mind.

I lay there in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together everything that had happened.

The rush through the dungeon, the desperate flight from Ragnok, the brutal swing of his axe—each moment played out in my mind like a nightmare.

I should have died.

I knew that with absolute certainty. There was no way I should be alive right now, yet here I was.

It wasn’t just luck that saved me. It was my slime.

But how? How did it have the ability to do what it did?

Back when I was bleeding uncontrollably from the leeches in the grotto, the thought of using my slime as a makeshift bandage had crossed my mind.

But I was too worried about the risks—what if the slime infected my wound or made things worse? I’d dismissed the idea, convinced that it was too dangerous.

And yet, in that moment, my slime acted on its own.

It consumed the health potion and entered my body, reattaching my severed limb.

I could still see it clearly in my mind—the way it latched onto my arm, pulling it back together.

I raised my arm, inspecting it closely.

The skin was smooth, unmarked by the vicious wound that had nearly killed me. I could move it without any pain, as if nothing had ever happened.

But what about the slime? Where was it? Was it still inside me?

I couldn't feel it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

The thought of it, lurking somewhere within me, was unsettling.

I tried to push away the unease, but it clung to me as I lay there, staring at my arm.

'Get out of my body!' I commanded.

But nothing happened.

No familiar tug, no pull on my body—just an empty void where the connection should have been. I felt... nothing.

I stared at my arm, willing the slime to emerge, to show any sign that it was still there.

I tried again, more forcefully this time, ordering it to come out as I had done countless times before. But once again, there was no response. No movement. Nothing.

Had it died after saving me? The thought gnawed at me.

But if that were the case, the system should have notified me of its death, detailing how it happened, just like it always did when a summoned creature perished.

But there was no message. No alert. Nothing to indicate that the slime was gone.

I was left with nothing but confusion, my mind spiraling with questions that had no answers.

Why couldn’t I summon it? Where had it gone? What had really happened?

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The more I thought about it, the more my mind raced, filling with possibilities that only deepened the mystery.

But there were no answers. Not yet. I realized that pushing for them wouldn’t get me anywhere right now.

My slime had acted in my best interest, saving my life when all seemed lost.

Maybe, for now, I needed to trust that it had done what it had to do.

I sighed, letting the tension ease from my body.

I would have to let it be, at least for the time being.

"Wait!"

Another thought struck me—Lila. What happened to her? And what about my bag?

I lifted my upper body, sitting halfway up from the bed, my eyes scanning the room frantically.

There, on the small wooden table next to me, was my bag.

Relief washed over me as I quickly reached out and snatched it, pulling it close.

I rifled through the contents.

The crystallized hearts I’d collected during my time in the dungeon were still there, along with my dagger. But Lila... she wasn’t inside.

“Lila?!” I called out, my voice tinged with worry. Where could she be?

To my surprise, a small voice responded from below the bed. “Leon? Are you awake?”

I looked down and saw her tiny head poking out from beneath the bed’s frame.

“Lila! Why are you down there?” I asked, my worry shifting to confusion.

Lila crawled out from her hiding spot, dusting herself off. “That woman who brought you here left your bag on the table. Thankfully, she was respectful enough not to look inside. As soon as she left the room, I got out of the bag and hid under the bed. I didn’t want to risk being seen....”

She hesitated for a moment before adding, “I’m still a gnome. Sought after by many. I didn’t want to be kidnapped again, and... I only trust you.”

Relief flooded through me as I saw her standing there, safe and unharmed. “I’m glad you’re okay, Lila.” I said, the weight of my earlier worries lifting slightly.

“How long was I unconscious?” I asked, trying to gauge how much time had passed since our escape.

“Half a day.” Lila replied, concern evident in her tiny eyes. “What are you going to do now, Leon?”

"I-", I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could say anything, a sharp knock echoed through the room.

Knock-Knock

I quickly gestured for Lila to hide again. Without a word, she darted back under the bed, disappearing from sight.

“Come in.” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady.

The door creaked open, and the very same woman who had saved me from Ragnok stepped inside.

She moved with a calm, measured grace. Her presence was imposing, yet there was a certain elegance to her demeanor.

She glanced around the room before her eyes settled on me.

Without a word, she took a chair that was stationed near the door and dragged it over to my bedside. She sat down, crossing her legs with a quiet confidence. In her hands, she held a small booklet and a plume, which she poised over the pages as she looked at me with a knowing gaze.

“Now that you’re awake…” she began, her voice steady but with a hint of authority. “Shall we start with the questioning?”

"Questioning?" What did she mean by that?

The woman didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she flipped through her booklet, her fingers brushing over the pages. Each turn of the page seemed to deepen my anxiety.

Finally, she stopped and looked up at me, a faint smile playing on her lips.

“Leon… First-time dungeon delver, skill acquired: Ooze. I remember you from that day. Hard to forget something that gave us all such a good laugh.” She paused, her smile fading as she met my eyes.

“I have to admit, I’m surprised you managed to survive your first run. Quite impressive, actually.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with both a subtle praise and an underlying tension that made me wonder what she wanted.

“Uh… thanks,” I replied, hesitantly, not quite sure how to take her words.

She didn’t give me much time to dwell on it. “But something doesn’t add up, Leon.” she continued, her tone sharpening as she leaned in slightly.

“Why were you being hunted by Ragnok? And more importantly, how did you manage to survive an encounter with a level 30 veteran delver? The guild leader of the notorious Iron Horns—known for their brutality and ruthlessness.”

Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing me as if she were trying to see right through me. “I doubt your Ooze ability alone could have accomplished that… Wouldn’t you agree?”

My heart skipped a beat. Ragnok wasn’t just any delver—he was the leader of a guild with a terrifying reputation, and he was above level 30? Iron Horns, she called them.

But why was she so focused on my skill? What exactly was she trying to uncover here?

"I'm not sure where you're going with this," I said, my voice tinged with suspicion. "What exactly are you questioning me for?"

She leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving mine. "I have many questions, Leon. Ragnok has been quite the headache for the government lately—a dangerous man, hard to deal with. But what caught my attention was the fact that he was trying to kill a beginner like you. And not just that—he failed, even when he personally acted on it."

She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing. "But what really puzzles me, before we dive deeper into Ragnok and his motives, is how you managed to survive with what is, by all accounts, a useless skill."

Her gaze sharpened, probing. "So tell me, what class would make a seemingly worthless skill into something that could actually help you survive in the dungeon?"

"What class?" I repeated, the surprise evident in my voice.

"Yes," she said, her gaze sharp and unyielding. "What is your class, Leon? I do hope it's not something... unexpected."

There was an edge to her words, a subtle hint that she might already have her suspicions.

The way she spoke, it was clear she was probing, to see if I'd reveal something incriminating—something tied to the dark classes that the government and religious authorities had outlawed.

"So? I'm waiting for your answer."

"..."