The grate was now hanging precariously at an angle, one side dangling down into the chamber. Below, thrashing and snarling, was one of the crocs. It had fallen into my trap.

It was a chaotic scene. The creature was struggling to get its footing on the uneven floor of the chamber, its claws scraping against the concrete walls. It hissed and snapped, its eyes wild.

I waited, watching as the creature struggled in vain. It was too large to climb out through the small openings in the walls, and it couldn’t get to the swaying grate.

After a few minutes of frantic thrashing, the creature began to calm down. Its movements became slower, its hisses weaker. It was trapped. And it knew.

Now was the time to act.

I carefully made my way up to the grate above. The fallen creature was still struggling, but much less than at the start. It was walking from side to side, as if hoping for things to change as it turned.

I approached the grate cautiously, keeping my distance from the opening. I used the axe to pry the grate back into place, securing it as best I could. It wasn't a perfect seal, but it was enough to catch another if I could lure one more.

The creature below continued to snarl, but its movements were clearly slower. It realized there was no point to its struggle, perhaps.

I stepped away from the now reset grate, back to the adjacent chamber.

And, just like that, I had succeeded. My plan had worked.

I had trapped one of those creatures.

Now, I just needed to do it again. And again.

I went back to my original position, beneath the other ventilation shaft, and repeated the process.

It didn’t take long for another creature to arrive. The same screeching of metal, the same deafening thud. Another one down.

This time, I was quicker. I climbed up and secured the grate before the creature could even recover from the fall. It was still somewhat agitated when I got back.

I repeated the process a third time, and then a fourth. Each time, the same result. The creatures were either drawn to the scent of blood or the noise I made, maybe both, and ended up falling into my trap like clockwork.

By the end of the day, I had trapped four of those creatures in the circular chamber. They were still alive, but they were trapped, yet disturbingly calm. They would eventually die of starvation or dehydration, or perhaps even kill each other in their confined space.

Either way, they were no longer a threat to me. Or anyone else. Except if some fool falls into the pit.

I returned to my fortified chamber, exhausted but satisfied. My plan had worked. I had found a way to deal with those creatures, without having to face them in direct combat.

I had also found a way to conserve my energy. I hadn’t had to run, to fight, to risk my own life. I had simply used my wits, my knowledge of their behavior, and the environment to my advantage.

It had been a good day. A very good day.

I reached into my pocket and touched the five spirit shards I had found near the dungeon entrance. They felt warm and reassuring. I still needed more, many more. But I had made progress. I had survived. And I had learned something valuable: even without special abilities or powerful weapons, I could find a way to overcome those things. I just needed to be smart. And patient.

The seventh day drew to a close with the low, guttural hisses and snarls of the trapped creatures echoing faintly through the sewer tunnels. It was an unsettling soundtrack to my evening meal. But it was also a sound of success.

I sat in my fortified chamber, carefully rationing my remaining supplies. A few granola bars, a handful of chips, and a precious bottle of water. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to stave off hunger.

The trapped creatures were a good start, but they weren’t a solution. I needed more spirit shards, and quickly. Waiting for those creatures to starve to death wasn’t a viable long-term strategy. They were likely reptiles, and if they possessed even a fraction of the hardiness of their crocodilian cousins, they could survive for weeks, maybe even months, without food. They could slow down their metabolism to a crawl, conserving energy and effectively stalling my plans.

Taking out three or four of them a day simply wouldn’t cut it. There were probably dozens, if not hundreds, of those creatures roaming the surface. At this rate, I’d be staying in the sewers for weeks waiting for the crocs to die.

I needed to find a more reliable source of spirit shards. The Rat Warrens, as the system had called it, were a potential goldmine, but I wasn’t ready to face those giant rats. Not yet. No trap ready.

Perhaps it was time to scout even further, to explore the deeper reaches of the sewer network. Maybe I could find another dungeon, a less… populated one. Something told me that finding an easier dungeon was wishful thinking. The Rat Warrens were labeled as Level 1. It probably didn’t get much easier than that.

Although I had no idea what “level 1” actually means. There were no such things as a status page with stats and attributes and whatnot. I for sure didn’t have a level. When I asked the system about it before he just said it could trade “gifts”, not anything related to some game-like advancements.

I needed to finish mapping the sewer system, to identify all the surface entrances and potential escape routes. And I needed to find a way to extract those tiny shards from the concrete walls. They were a meager source of spirit stuff, but every shard counted. Or at least it should.

I finished my meager meal, carefully sealing the remaining food and water in my makeshift shirt-bag. I leaned back against the cool concrete wall, my mind racing with possibilities.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I had a good day, but this might as well be the last one for a while unless I found some more spirit shards lying around. I still needed twenty more.

What I needed was a sustainable source, and those trapped creatures weren’t it. Not if they were going to take weeks to starve to death before providing me with crystals.

I will have to go for the freaking giant rats, won’t I? Shit.

I spent the next couple hours meticulously cleaning the axe. I used the rough concrete wall to sharpen the blade as best I could, removing the remaining traces of the creature's blood. The process was slow and tedious, but it was a necessary task. The axe was my only weapon, my only tool. I needed to keep it in good condition.

I finished sharpening the axe and leaned back against the wall, exhausted. The hissing and snarling of the trapped creatures continued, but didn’t bother much anymore. They got rather quiet.

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the noise. I was getting a little fed up with it. I still slept rather well all things considered.

Now, since my axe is all good, it’s back to some exploring. Just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything before trying the rat dungeon.

The tunnels were still the same, but I was changing. I was becoming much more familiar with the layout and the ambience. I moved faster, my footsteps echoing softly in the silence. Axe at my right hand and my makeshift shield, now slightly reinforced, at my left.

As I approached the area where I had found the fragments, I noticed something different. The light filtering in from the grates above was brighter than usual. It was still dim, but it was enough to illuminate the walls more clearly.

And then I saw them.

More shards, scattered across the walls and the floor. But these were different. They were larger, some of them almost the size of my thumbnail. And they weren’t embedded in the concrete. They were lying loose, as if they had been recently dislodged.

I approached cautiously, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it. This was what I had been looking for. I knelt down and began to collect them, carefully placing them in my pocket. They felt cold and smooth to the touch, and they shimmered with the same faint blue light as the shards.

As I gathered them, I noticed something else. A small, dark opening in the wall, hidden behind a pile of debris. It was barely large enough for me to squeeze through, but it was there.

I approached the opening cautiously, tapping the axe against the debris. The pile shifted slightly, revealing the opening more clearly.

It was a narrow tunnel, leading deeper into the sewer system. The air coming from it was noticeably colder and damper. And there was something else… a faint, metallic scent, similar to the one I had smelled in my office.

I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. This could be it. This could be the entrance to another dungeon. Or perhaps something else entirely.

The dark, damp tunnel beckoned, promising… what? Darkness? Dampness? Danger? The metallic scent, while reminiscent of spirit shards, was also unsettling. It hinted at something unnatural, something I wasn’t prepared to face without proper precautions.

Do I really want to go deeper into the dark, damp tunnels in a place that spawns spirit shards?

No. Fuck that. Not without a proper light source. To let me properly study the place. And plan.

I turned back, the shards jingling softly in my pocket. Another five spirit shards. Enough for me to get out of here, if I make it to the border of the instance. But not enough to do so with Mark. And certainly not enough for any of those enticing “gifts” the System mentioned.

Before leaving the area, I secured one of the grates over the entrance to the narrow tunnel. It wasn’t a perfect fit, but it would deter any smaller creatures and provide a small measure of security.

I backtracked through the tunnels, making my way back to the entrance of the Rat Warrens. I checked the area around the entrance, hoping to find more of those loose spirit shards. But there were none. It seemed my earlier find had been a lucky fluke.

So, it was back to scouting.

I spent the rest of the day mapping the sewer system, exploring new tunnels, and marking potential surface exits. The deeper I went, the more I realized just how vast this underground network was. It was far larger than I had initially imagined.

At one point, I found myself in a long, straight corridor. It stretched for what felt like kilometers, with no junctions, no side tunnels, nothing to break the monotony of concrete walls and dripping pipes. It was unnerving, this endless, featureless tunnel. It didn’t make any sense. Sewers were designed to connect buildings, to drain water, to follow the layout of the streets above. This corridor seemed to defy all logic.

It led nowhere.

I followed it to its end, where it abruptly terminated at a solid rock wall. No cracks, no crevices, just a smooth, impassable barrier. It was as if the tunnel had been built with no purpose, leading only to a dead end. And this was the last tunnel.

The discovery was unsettling. Perhaps it had been altered by the merging of worlds, or perhaps it had always been this way, a hidden labyrinth beneath the city. But the conclusion was simple, the ”sewer strategy” wasn’t going to work. I couldn’t simply navigate this new world underground.

But at the moment, I had no “surface strategy.” The thought of venturing out into that chaotic landscape, facing those creatures in the open, filled me with dread. The sewers, despite their gloominess, were my sanctuary, my refuge.

I reached my chamber and carefully replaced the grates, securing myself inside. I was exhausted, both physically and mentally. The day’s exploration had yielded tangible results and given me a new perspective.

I had ten spirit shards. Good.

The sewers don’t reach the border at all. Shit.

The sewers were as broken as the world above. Just significantly less affected since they had no structures competing for the space, or so I am led to believe. Still, there are dead ends, inexplicable ones that make no sense whatsoever, so I can only blame otherworldly shit for it.

What does that mean? The sewer network was cut off. It was incomplete. Severed. Just like this place, this… instance, is severed from the outside world. The sewers might work as a refuge, but they will ultimately lead nowhere. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I settled down for the night, my mind still racing with thoughts. The hissing and snarling of the trapped creatures in the circular chamber, although less intrusive now, bothers me even more.

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the noise even further. I needed to rest. Today wasn’t a good day.

And, just like that, morning arrived again. The night passes in a blink of an eye. Dreamless.

With no other viable options presenting themselves, I found myself considering the Rat Warrens. The thought of facing those giant rodents still filled me with dread, but I needed spirit shards. And the dungeon was the only place I knew where I could find them.

I made my way back through the tunnels, the ten shards in my pocket jingling softly with each step. The journey was quicker this time; I knew the route well now.

I reached the dungeon entrance, the ethereal glow of the strange fungi illuminating the chamber. The warning message was still there, shimmering in the air.

[Dungeon Detected: The Rat Warrens. Level: 1. Recommended Party Size: 1-3. A dungeon filled with giant rats.]

I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. I wasn’t a fighter. I was a supply chain manager for crying out loud. But I had to adapt, to become something else, if I wanted to survive.

I stepped into the dungeon.