What was that dream…? I couldn’t shake it—the freezing wind, the sting of snow, those strange creatures closing in, and that woman’s last words. “Champion.”

Was she talking about just any Leon? No… it felt like she was looking straight at me, like I was the one she meant, even if she didn’t say it outright. And, back on Earth, my name wasn’t even Leon. But in that dream, it seemed so real...

I ran a hand over my face, still feeling a faint chill, even though I was awake now.

It was weird, unsettling, as if there was something more lurking beneath the surface of that dream, something I wasn’t supposed to known but did anyway.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the lingering fog from my head. Must’ve just been the stress of Dungeon End getting to me.

Day after day in these... suffocating moments, fighting for survival must have done quite the number on me without realizing it. Anyone would start seeing things. And the smell down here didn't help.

The dream still tugged at the back of my mind, but I took a slow, deep breath, letting wash away. Probably just some random nightmare.

My brain trying to process all this madness. This world was twisted enough without adding apocalyptic dreams into the mix.

I glanced at Lila, still fast asleep, curled up on one of my slimes like it was the most natural bed in the world.

The little guy had spread itself out just enough to give her a cushion, rising and falling slightly with her slow breathing. I couldn’t help but smirk; I’d never seen anyone make a slime look so… comfortable.

Maybe I should use one as a makeshift pillow next time, I thought, watching Lila snooze away so comfortably.

She looked like she was having the best sleep of her life, curled up without a care in the world. I couldn’t help but feel a bit envious.

Letting her rest, I leaned back against the wall of the pipe, feeling the cold seep through my clothes.

Rest time was over, and I had my mana fully recharged, back to a nice 18 points. I was ready to push on.

Summoning a few extra slimes would speed things up, but I wasn’t going to blow my entire mana bar just to make today easier. The Sewer Crawlers weren’t much of a threat, but the dungeon itself was a place that had a knack for throwing surprises at you when you least expected it.

Deciding on a balanced approach, I summoned four slimes, watching as they bubbled into existence around me.

A quick check told me I had 6 mana left—enough for a couple of shapeshifts or some emergency summons if things got dicey.

With the new recruits, we’d have a little extra firepower and a quicker path through the grind, but still enough in reserve to stay flexible.

Now I had a total of eight slimes by my side.

As I sat there, waiting for Lila to wake up, my slimes bounced around me, as restless as ever, like they could barely wait to charge out and start “playing.”

Watching them, I couldn’t help but smile a little. They were so eager, like a pack of overexcited puppies ready to chase a squirrel—or sewer crawlers, in their case.

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I could almost imagine them frothing at the idea of diving headfirst into the hunt.

"Alright, alright,” I murmured, chuckling. “Let’s hang tight for Lila, then we’ll head out…” My words trailed off, and I felt a small tug of curiosity as I watched them bounce and squish around with so much energy.

They really didn’t need me to guide them every step of the way; I’d seen them scavenge for loot on their own plenty of times, bringing back whatever caught their eye, no extra guidance needed.

Then it hit me that maybe this energy of theirs, this readiness to hunt, didn’t need to be entirely directed by me either.

But the thought just hung there, half-formed, as I considered it. What if they didn’t need me around at all for the hunting part, and I could just… let them loose?

I kept watching them, feeling a strange tension building as I pieced it together, bit by bit.

What if they went out on their own?

I glanced at the tunnel, picturing it—not just me and Lila heading out with my slimes following my lead but letting the slimes do their own thing. Hunt solo.

Find their own prey. Bring in their own results. Sure, I knew they could wander off to bring back loot or resources and be used as scouts, but I’d never actually considered setting them loose in a full hunt, without me, for XP. It seemed… bold. But not impossible.

My eyes flicked back to them, and something bigger started to unfold in my mind.

If they could hunt on their own and if I could get XP from their kills, then… maybe I didn’t need to be in the fight at all to level up. Could they, by hunting independently, passively earn me experience? Like some kind of self-running hunting team?

The thought felt almost too good to be true, and I could feel the anticipation building, the reality of it still settling in. It was unorthodox, but it was possible. I didn’t have to risk being present. I could send them out to fight for me while I sat back and waited in a safe place, gathering experience from afar.

If I could get credit for each crawler they took down, then I had just stumbled onto a whole new way to level up.

I exhaled slowly, realizing just how deep this discovery could go. I could command them from the sidelines, managing a full team of tireless, fearless fighters, taking down enemy after enemy while I stayed perfectly safe, earning the rewards with almost no risk.

This was… powerful. This was exactly the kind of edge a necromancer could use to stay on top. And no wonder people saw necromancers as something to be wary of.

It wasn’t just the creepy vibe that came with undead—it was the potential to idle, to grind without lifting a finger, letting summons rack up XP without putting yourself in harm’s way.

It was the kind of power people were bound to fear or even hate.

Necromancers could game the system, use this “idling” strategy to gain power without ever stepping into danger.

I’d played idle games back on Earth—letting your character passively grind, farm, and collect XP and loot while you barely lifted a finger, gaining levels with almost no effort.

And now, right here in this world, I was looking at a real chance to do exactly that. This was a power I’d underestimated, hidden right in front of me.

Eager to test out this new strategy, I decided to see if idling could really work. My slimes bounced around, looking more than ready, and I picked out four of them for the job.

If this worked, it’d flip my whole leveling process upside down.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” I murmured, a hint of a grin forming. “Go out there and show me what you can do.”

I set up the four slimes in pairs, giving them simple orders: find as many Sewer Crawlers as possible, take them down, and grab their crystallized hearts.

I wasn’t about to send my whole squad out there—that’d be pushing my luck.

This was Dungeon End, after all; being careless here was a fast track to disaster. I kept the other four slimes close, in case anything nasty decided to creep up on our so-called “safe spot.”

To get the hunting group combat-ready, I dipped into my mana reserves, using 2 points to shape-shift them into their offensive forms.

Now they looked ready for business.

“Alright,” I said, nodding. “Go do your thing!”

Without hesitation, they took off, gliding in pairs down the dark, damp tunnels of Vermin Hollow, disappearing into the shadows.

Now, it was just a waiting game—or so I’d thought.

But before I could even settle in, the first notification flickered up in front of me:

[Your Slime defeated a Sewer Crawler. EXP +1]

I blinked, hardly believing it at first.

"I-It actually worked!"