As the notifications kept popping up—[Your slime defeated a Sewer Crawler. EXP +1]—I sat there, letting it all sink in.

This wasn’t something I could’ve done before, not with the old slimes. Back then, they weren’t built for combat. They could scavenge, sure, but actively hunting monsters? That wasn’t even on the table.

But now, with their new armament forms, they could actually fight. They could kill things.

I leaned back against the cold pipe, watching the notifications roll in.

I felt like a landlord in the 21st century.

I couldn’t help but laugh under my breath as the thought crossed my mind.

I’m sitting here, doing absolutely nothing, while my slimes are out there busting their gooey butts. They’re fighting Sewer Crawlers, collecting loot, and I’m just… reaping the rewards.

All the experience points are rolling in like clockwork. Meanwhile, I’m chilling, collecting the dungeon equivalent of rent.

I’m basically one of those landlords who slap a ridiculous price tag on a tiny, moldy apartment with peeling paint and a broken toilet, and the tenants can’t even complain because they have nowhere else to go.

My slimes? They’re stuck with me. Bound to my mana, no escape, no say in the matter. No protests. No worker’s rights. They don’t even have mouths to complain with.

I glanced at the four slimes I’d kept behind as guards. They were just bouncing around, completely unbothered.

I could almost hear them saying, Yeah, sure, boss, whatever you want. No resentment, no drama. Just obedient, tireless little blobs.

“This is so messed up,” I muttered, though I didn’t actually feel bad about it. I mean, they weren’t suffering or anything—they were slimes.

As far as I could tell, they didn’t even care. If anything, they seemed happy to have a purpose.

Another notification popped up.

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

It was amazing, honestly. It wasn’t just easier—it was smarter. Efficient. I could sit here all day and still make progress without putting myself in danger.

And it wasn’t just some cheap shortcut, either. This whole setup wouldn’t have been possible without everything I’d gone through up until now—all the synergies, all the pieces that had fallen into place along the way.

Every struggle, every moment of scraping by, had built up to this point.

Without the Overfiend’s Awakened Heart and acquiring the ability to shapeshift from it, none of this would’ve worked.

Without the pouch saved by the Steelheart family, I wouldn’t have had the armament upgrade to gear up my slimes.

And the crossbow scavenged by my slimes? That had been pure chance, but without it, this whole idea wouldn’t even exist. Every piece mattered. Every step had been a crucial part of getting here.

If none of that had happened, I’d still be stuck scavenging the hard way—slowly grinding through scraps, hauling everything back myself, and taking all the risk mostly on my own.

But now? Now my slimes were little warriors, out there doing the heavy lifting for me, handling the grind so I could focus on the bigger picture.

The perfect team. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

I leaned back, grinning to myself as I watched another notification pop up. It just works.

Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. It just works.

I glanced at Lila, still curled up on one of the slimes, fast asleep. “She’d probably call me lazy if she knew what I was doing,” I said to myself, smirking.

Leaning back further, I let out a contented sigh. “This is the life,” I muttered, grinning like an idiot.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Eventually, time passed, and the kills kept piling up. My slimes were out there doing their thing, and every so often, the sweet ding of another kill notification would echo like a cash register ringing up profits.

I didn’t even need to move, just watching as the numbers crept closer and closer to my goal. And then, finally—it happened.

[Congratulations! You have reached Level 5!]

For a moment, I just stared at the notification. Then, without warning, the biggest, stupidest grin spread across my face.

I wasn’t just smiling—I was grinning ear to ear, teeth and all, like a cartoon villain plotting some evil master plan.

Seriously, it wasn’t a normal, proud smile. Oh no. This was the kind of grin that gets you labeled as “the weird guy”, the one people subtly scoot away from during bus commute.

If Lila had been awake to see it, she’d probably have woken up just to throw something at me.

Still, I couldn’t help it. This was a big deal.

Then, another notification popped up, listing my rewards for leveling up.

Congratulations! You've reached level 5! +2 Mental, +1 Physical

I nodded to myself, my ridiculous grin still plastered across my face. “Alright, alright, very good,” I muttered, pretending to be all cool about it, even though inside I was practically overjoyed.

I glanced over at my slimes, who were bouncing around nearby, totally oblivious to my little celebration.

They didn’t care about levels or stats or milestones; they just wanted to keep doing their job.

With the boost of 2 to my mental stat, my mana pool climbed to 20 points. It wasn’t quite the 21 I needed to increase my summoning cap from six slimes to seven, but it was close.

That extra 2 mana meant I could cast shapeshifting one more time if needed, and in a dungeon, every single point mattered. Progress was progress, no matter how small it seemed.

But my mind didn’t linger on the level-up for long. I started thinking about the next milestone: level 6. To get there, I needed 67 experience points.

That meant killing 67 Sewer Crawlers. Normally, that would’ve sounded like a grueling grind, but now? Now that my slimes could farm while I slept, it felt entirely manageable.

At this pace, I figured it would only take a day, maybe even less if everything kept running smoothly.

The thought made me grin all over again. The grind wasn’t something to dread anymore.

Lila stirred slightly beside me, pulling me out of my thoughts. She murmured something incoherent in her sleep and shifted on her makeshift slime-bed, snuggling further into its squishy surface.

But naturally, things couldn’t go so smoothly. As I was basking in the glory of what I thought would be my easy, efficient life, a sudden tremor jolted me from my thoughts.

"Huh?"

The ground beneath us shook violently, sending my slimes into a frenzy. They bounced around inside the pipe, agitated, their movements erratic and chaotic.

The tremor grew stronger with every passing second, shaking the walls of the sewer and making the stagnant water ripple violently.

“What the hell is going on?!” I muttered, grabbing the pipe wall to steady myself.

Before I could even ask, Lila shot upright, her eyes wide with alarm as the agitation woke her up.

“Leon!” she shouted, her voice trembling. “This place is no longer safe! I just checked with my Pathfinder skill—this spot isn’t considered safe anymore!”

“What?!” I snapped, my stomach dropping. If this spot wasn’t safe, it could only mean one thing—something was coming, and it was heading straight for us.

I didn’t waste time. I scooped Lila up without a second thought and commanded my slimes, “Latch on! Now!” They obeyed instantly, clinging to me as as I squeezed out of the pipe’s narrow entrance.

The tremors grew more intense as I scrambled to my feet, looking down the dimly lit passageways. There were only two directions to go—left or right.

My heart pounded as the noise that accompanied the tremors became clearer: the sound of countless screeches mixed with the rapid splashing of water, like dozens—no, hundreds—of feet pounding against the wet ground.

“D-Dont tell me…!” My voice faltered as a terrible thought clawed its way into my mind.

The screeches, the vibrations, the sheer chaos—it all felt horrifyingly familiar.

Before I could dwell on it, something—or someone—burst out from the corner to my right.

A figure slammed into the wall with a loud thud, rebounding off it as if it was nothing more than a nuisance. He stumbled for only a second before taking off in our direction, sprinting as though his life depended on it.

He was a boy, maybe my age or slightly older.

His lean, athletic build suggested he was someone who valued speed over brute strength, and his leather gear confirmed it.

His outfit was clearly designed for mobility—light, flexible, and practical, prioritizing freedom of movement over heavy defense.

But what really caught my attention, even in the middle of this unknown situation, were the features that marked him as different.

Above his head, two animal-like ears twitched, perked up and alert. Behind him, a tail swayed and whipped with every desperate stride.

"A beastman?"

“RUN!” the beastkin boy shouted, his voice carrying a mix of panic and urgency as he zipped past us with incredible speed, heading down the left passage without even slowing down.

“What the hell is going on?!” I managed to mutter, but I didn’t need to wonder for long.

The noise behind him grew louder, a cacophony of screeches, skittering, and splashing echoing through the sewer tunnels.

Then, they appeared. At first, just a few Sewer Crawlers rounded the corner—1… 2… 5… 10. But then more followed. 20. 50. 100.

An endless wave of them poured into view, crawling over the walls, the floor, the ceiling—some even clambering over each other in a frenzied, writhing mass. It wasn’t just a group of monsters. It was a swarm.

“A-A Monster Tide!” I shouted, the name escaping my lips with raw fear.

This wasn’t just a group of enemies—it was one of the most dangerous phenomena in Dungeon End, an unrelenting tidal wave of creatures that moved with a single, horrifying purpose: overwhelming and devouring everything in their path.