Roan was always the type to overprepare for situations.
For a casual walk out at night, he would bring a knife.
Whenever he had to go to school, he would go walking around with a bulky bag strapped to his back like a turtle shell just so he could bring along an umbrella, perfume, a retractable baton, a charger, a power bank, a tumbler, and everything else that would solve most issues he could face outside.
It wasn’t that he was an anxious wreck who thought that he would die every single day, he just liked the feeling that he had gone out prepared rather than going out blind. After all, it’s better to suffer from one’s overpreparedness than to suffer from one’s lack of preparation.
That translated into his gaming experience as well. He would stockpile potions, find the best equipment he could get, and acquire as many resources as possible before fighting the first boss.
Essentially, he was the type to do all the side quests before facing the final boss.
Translate that into an IRL dungeon diving game, and Roan was blitzing through the floors with ease. With a simple press of a trigger, even the mightiest of goblins, gnolls, kobolds, and giant rats fell to the power of humanity.
How couldn’t they?
If this was a game, then the players should have been using Tier I weapons like blades and spears, not a handgun with an attack power of one hundred, or a katana with a ridiculously high base attack power of fifty.
Katana (Lvl 4) - Tier I
Attack Power: 200
Durability: 95%
Effect: None
Swinging the blade, Roan found it slicing through another kobold’s head as if it were air. The sword was light, its edge sharper than the highest quality of blades.
This sword is twice as strong as my handgun already. Roan examined the blade with a befuddled look on his face.
After acquiring his inventory, which as far as he knew held infinite space, he had gone on to stuff all of his weapons, equipment, food, water, and daily necessities into it, forgoing his need for a bulky turtle bag that he would have to carry everywhere.
With an easier method to carry all of his stuff around, he rushed through the second, third, and fourth floors, killing more than a hundred goblins in total.
During that period, he had discovered more of the dungeon’s peculiarities.
On the second floor, while searching for horned rabbits to cook, and only encountering gnolls and large clawed bats, he accidentally stumbled into a strange room that had a distinct structure compared to the rest of the cave-like rooms on the same floor.
The floor was constructed out of wood, with a ball of light illuminating the room embedded in the ceiling. Decorative bookshelves were placed to the sides, and at the opposite end of the entrance was a strange table with arcane equipment, and a strange quill.
When he first entered the room, his attention was immediately placed on the glowing leather-bound book floating in the very center, lying atop rolled-up scrolls on the ground.
Just like with the eye and the backpack, the glowing book exploded into fragments of light when he came into contact with it and swirled right into his body. When the strange light show finally ended, he gained a new tab in his ‘Dungeon System’, the logs.
There, he saw a bestiary listing out all of the monsters he had fought, their strengths, weaknesses, and general details; he also saw empty pages, the various items he had gathered, the equipment he had come into contact with, etc.
As for the scrolls lying on the ground, they were an Upgrade Scroll and a Scroll of Lesser Illusions. He used up the upgrade scroll to upgrade his katana the moment he got it and stored the illusion scroll for later.
Lastly, in that room, he encountered his first ‘recipe’ and got the recipe to craft Scroll of Lesser Blinding Light. The recipe needed strange materials that he had encountered throughout the first and second floors, which enlightened him to the use of some of the various stuff scattered throughout the dungeon.
The moment he got the recipe, it was saved right in his logs tabs.
The same pattern repeated on the third and fourth floors.
When he got his katana chipped and damaged, he encountered a new type of room, a room he went on to call a Smithy Room.
The room had a tough, stone-like dark floor, torches placed on the walls, and an anvil and furnace on the opposite end of the entrance. The furnace continuously burned with a lukewarm flame, and a strange runic hammer rested on the magical anvil.
Placed in the corner of the room were a pickaxe, and a recipe to craft a set of chainmail armor. He didn’t even bother to think of crafting chainmail armor, but the repair function of the anvil and hammer did give him a huge sense of relief.
From then on, Roan kept mining the various ores and minerals he found in the dungeon to fix his gear later on. As long as he had the required materials, he would just need to input the materials into the system page, smash the hammer onto the equipment, and it would be magically fixed.
The same goes for the equipment crafting process; he just needed to input the required materials, smash the hammer on the anvil, and the equipment would get magically produced.
For the fourth and current floor, he encountered a rather bizarre ‘Crafting Room’.
Crafting Rooms was the general term he had given to the three types of rooms he had encountered—the Scroll Room, the Smithy, and the one he was in right now, the Alchemy Room.
The room was lit up by the bubbling, glowing green liquid placed inside a large dark metallic cauldron right in the middle of the room. Pale-colored flames lit up from beneath the cauldron, stemming from an unknown source, while two potions and a recipe lied on the ground beside the ominous object.
Picking up the recipe first, a set of new words appeared in the air ahead of him.
New recipe acquired: Potion of Strength
Potion of Strength - Tier I
Permanently enhances the consumer’s body.
Permanently enhances… Roan’s eyes widened and constricted in quick succession, his hands tapping at the floating screen freezing in place.
He fell silent for a moment, a series of wild thoughts racing through his mind. The young man checked the ingredients, the ease of crafting the potion, and then laughed, laughed harder, until he sounded like a maniacal villain.
“Potion of Strength… Ha!” Roan slapped his thigh, closed the tab, grabbed the two potions on the ground, and sighed. “I expected stat crystals or a leveling system, but a potion-based power progression? Now that’s a woozy.”
Taking a quick look at the two potions he just got and fiddling with the cauldron for a bit, the young man placed a special spatial-temporal node in the alchemy room, marking this area as an important location to visit later.
After that, he grabbed the air, pulled out a list of ingredients, and began following the strangely simple potion formula.
First, the herbs.
Tossing in plants he gathered along his travels, herbs infused with lots of vitality and energy, the green ooze-like liquid within the alchemical cauldron bubbled, and released green fumes into the air.
Roan pinched his nose, making sure he didn’t accidentally inhale any of those fumes, even though he was pretty sure that they posed no actual harm and just looked unpleasant.
After that, he took out the other ingredients, and perhaps the most important component in the potion of strength formula—monster flesh.
Well, not really flesh, since even bones could be used, but monster flesh was the most abundant resource Roan had on hand.
Tossing in chunks of fourth-floor kobold meat, Roan gazed at the alchemical cauldron as the green, ooze-like liquid bubbled more violently. Green fumes diffused into the air and toxic light splashed outwards.
The liquid then churned and swirled, spinning in a vortex in the middle as if being stirred by an invisible ladle, and a progress bar appeared in the air.
Without having to do anything, Roan simply watched the process from start to finish.
The green liquid gradually turned a shade of dark red, and light flowed down from the ceiling, gathering right above the cauldron to form the outline of an empty glass flask. When the empty glass flask appeared, the dark red liquid in the cauldron flew upward, pouring right into the open mouth of the flask, and shrinking into it.
As the alchemical process finally finished, Roan’s eyes gleamed, and he grabbed the potion, staring expectantly at it.
So, this is it… Roan licked his dry lips, unsure whether to drink the potion without testing it first. In the end, though, he clicked his tongue, and murmured self-deprecatingly, “You already ate bread and the flesh of horned rabbits that came from a dungeon of flesh and blood, now you’re hesitating to drink a potion?”
Clicking his tongue, he clenched his teeth, grabbed the potion, closed his eyes, and muttered, “Bottoms up.”
The dark red liquid flowed down his throat, and he opened his eyes in surprise. It tastes like honey? No… it’s more like maple syrup.
The warm liquid continued traveling down his throat, into his stomach, and gradually spread throughout his digestive tract, transforming into a pure stream of energy that flooded his every vein and cell.
Roan shook wildly like a person getting electrocuted, squirming on the ground, buckling down to his knees, with hazy, unfocused eyes. He wasn’t able to hold back his urge to moan and groaned loudly, convulsing uncontrollably.
When the effects finally settled, Roan opened his eyes and was met by a wave of endless vigor overflowing within him. His right eye turned to an unnatural shade of red, and he observed his status.
Roan Peregrine
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Power: 38 (19)
Health: 100%
Energy: 100%
Status: None
He unclenched his fists, and could distinctly make out the difference compared to before. His eyes felt sharper; his hearing better; his muscles denser, thicker, slimmer, more powerful.
“That’s a big difference for three points…” Roan smiled.
In the next moment, white sparks crackled out of his body.
Now that I know I can craft strength potions… I might as well overprepare before entering the fifth floor, right?
…
After over thirty minutes and drinking the last tier-one strength potion he could concoct, his power had capped out at 25. Maybe it’s because the goblin, gnoll, and kobold flesh he used was lacking or that he needed higher-quality plants, but it was becoming increasingly harder to grow stronger just by drinking potions made from the same ingredients.
With how game-like this world is, I would have expected it to work, where I can increasingly increase my stat points by mindlessly drinking stat-enhancing potions, but in the end. Roan sighed. These powers only provide a more game-like experience. This world still runs on certain rules and principles.
While he didn’t gain much of a power boost, Roan did come to familiarize himself with strength potions, and made a few tests he noted down in his mind to do later.
However, for now, he had to finish the fifth floor and return to Earth.
As for why he delayed entering the fifth floor for so long, well… Let’s see if my caution would prove me right.
He returned to the room with the staircase on the fourth floor and reloaded all of his guns with new magazines. In total, he had five handguns and three shotguns, so even if their durability were to run out mid-fight, he could switch to a new one without problems.
It also gave the added benefit that if one of his handguns ran out of bullets, he could just use another, one that had all of the bullets he’d need, skipping the reloading process entirely by just switching to a fully loaded weapon.
This inventory could probably be used for combat if I play my cards right. Roan was tempted to return to Earth and try and store a whole ass truck in his inventory but he was too lazy to do so.
He slowly went down the dark staircase, the inside barely illuminated by the moss glowing dimly on the walls and ceiling. The steps were firm, and his footsteps echoed loudly in the suffocating silence.
Soon enough, the bottom of the steps came into view, and he saw firm, hard, solid stone for the floor, like a ground made out of bricks.
The closer he got, the more he saw of the room. It was vastly different than everything else above, with a cubical, almost prison-like design. The room was illuminated by torches placed on gloomy gray brick walls, and an arch gateway was at the opposite end of the room covered by a prismatic wall of light.
The moment he arrived in this room, Roan knew that this was going to be a boss fight. The vibes, the different aesthetics, the palpable pressure in the air, it was all pointing to one conclusion.
“Holy crap, this world really is like a game.” Roan stared at the prismatic gateway with apprehension and viewed his inventory. I already suspected that there might be a boss fight, but to think I’d be right… This complicates things a bit.
Six health potions, Molokov cocktails, stone spears, random herbs, extra leather armor, and a scroll of illusions.
“Damn it.” Roan spat. “Should I go to a new dungeon, grind scrolls of upgrade and other scrolls and potions, and return here?”
The thought tempted him. He was always the type to overprepare for this sort of thing, but that would take time. He had plenty of time, yes, but Roan didn’t have infinite patience.
“Besides.” He stared at his guns and at his katana which was twice as powerful as his Tier II weapons. “I have enough potions to bring myself from the brink of death six times, flammable explosives, powerful weapons, and teleportation.”
Roan had already tested the limits of his teleportation abilities, and just like any other multiversal-level ability, nothing in this dungeon could obstruct his movement. If things go awry, he could just skedaddle and go for another try.
Deciding that no time was better than the present, Roan braced himself and entered the room.
The moment he passed through the prismatic gateway, he was greeted by an expansive arena over a hundred meters wide, with torches illuminating the outer walls. The dome-like ceiling glowed with an unnatural shade of blue, albeit dimmer and weaker than the moss infesting the floors above, but it did provide enough lighting to illuminate everything.
The ceiling formed a strange, mossy sky, like a distorted replica of the sky Roan was familiar with back on Earth.
As soon as he appeared in that place, the gate behind him disappeared, along with the arched hallway leading into the arena. Behind him was the same dome-like arena, with no exit in sight.
“So you’re finally here.” A voice echoed from the center of the room. A lone monster stood in the middle, with a slim physique and a humanoid body shape. They had dark green skin and wore a light layer of leather armor atop their frail body. They had a face resembling more of a human, but traces of their ancestry remained.
Their eyes were narrow and had a shade of red. Their subtly smiling lips parted way to reveal sharp, crooked teeth. Slung onto their waist was a sheathed, straight-shaped blade with an intricate design and a sturdy handle.
Roan’s right eye shone red, and he swiftly observed the monster’s stats.
Zorrak the Swiftblade
Power: 30
Health: 100%
Energy: 100%
Status: None.
It was a hobgoblin, with stats way above his.
Their smile widened, and a silver ring adorning their finger shone yellow for a split second. They exuded a dangerous aura, one that Roan could vividly feel; it was the same feeling he got facing an expert kendo master but with a killing intent far more developed.
“A monster… can talk?” Roan furrowed his brows. “No. It should be more appropriate to call you a boss monster, right?”
“Yes, I can talk.” Zorrak didn’t seem intent on attacking for the moment and casually chatted with the human challenger. “And a monster? You seem to be having a bigot outlook on the inhabitants of the dungeon, hmm?”
“Well, from the outlook of a game, it shouldn’t be wrong to call you monsters, right?” Roan rubbed his chin, appearing calm, but his free hand roamed near his handgun, ready to strike at a given moment. “But maybe it’s better to call you enemies?”
“Enemies isn’t the right term too, you know?” Zorrak snickered. “More like allies that fight you occasionally to push you to greater heights, just like the sharpening stone to a blade; while it causes friction and would cause the blade to suffer, it would sharpen its edges and give rise to greater power.”
“An interesting analogy…”
Zorrak hummed softly, widened their smile, and slowly unsheathed their blade, mumbling in Novaran, “Well, I suppose it’s time for proper introductions.”
“The name’s Zorrak the Swiftblade.” The hobgoblin fully unsheathed its blade, pointing its tip at the newly arrived challenger. “Master of the sword and a blessed of speed. Boss of the fifth floor of the dungeon of Yag-Shath.”
Roan immediately squinted his eyes when he heard the last tidbit of what the hobgoblin had said. “Yag-Shath?”
“Yes?” Zorrak acted dumb and purposefully stalled. Was it for some big purpose? No. The hobgoblin just wanted to tease the human for a bit.
“Is Yag-Shath the creator of this dungeon? No… These dungeons?” Roan gripped his handgun and tightened his hold.
“Maybe.” Zorrak shrugged his shoulders and slung his blade over his shoulders.
“What do you mean maybe?” Roan rolled his eyes, catching onto what the hobgoblin was doing.
“I said maybe.” Zorrak chuckled. “What is it about what I said that you can’t understand? Do I have to speak in afrilian for you to understand?”
“Ugh…” Roan groaned, became annoyed, and felt that conversing with the hobgoblin would continue to be fruitless. So, without further ado, Roan swiftly pulled out his handgun, aimed it at the hobgoblin, and pulled the trigger in one swift motion.
In less than a second, a bullet whizzed through the air.
Bang!
Zorrak squinted his eyes, and the edges of their smile extended. With a casual step to the side, he dodged the incoming bullet, letting it fly past him by mere inches.
Roan pressed the trigger three more times, shooting out three more bullets.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The hobgoblin fearlessly charged forward, running at a level of speed even faster than the world record holder of the hundred-meter sprint on Earth. Traversing tens of meters in the blink of an eye, the hobgoblin dodged a series of bullets with ease, letting those bullets fly past him by mere inches.
The human continued to shoot more bullets, with the gap between them shrinking second by second. The closer the hobgoblin got, the harder it became for it to dodge bullets, until eventually, the boss was just a few meters away from Roan.
Snickering, Roan shoots another bullet, imagining the scene of the bullet lodging through the boss’ body like any other monster.
Zorrak had other plans.
Crouching down, sheathing his blade, and taking a deep breath, the hobgoblin’s eyes constricted, and he swung in one go.
Clang!
Akin to a scene ripped straight out of some anime show, the bullet was cleaved in half.
What—
Before Roan could even react, the hobgoblin smiled mockingly, and the silver ring on their hand glowed with a bright yellow flash.
“Haste.”
The hobgoblin’s movement sped up, bridging the gap between them in less than one breath.
Roan wasn’t even able to dodge or activate his spark in time when the tip of a sword punctured through his stomach. Blood splashed out from his back, and Roan stared down with an incredulous look as if he was unable to believe what just happened.
“Surprise?” Zorrak smiled and prepared to swing the blade upwards, cleaving the human in half this time instead of a bullet.
Sensing the impending danger, Roan’s body transformed into an amalgamation of white sparks, and he dodged the attack just in time, saving himself from facing the fate of being split in half.
Beads of cold sweat dripped down his forehead as he reappeared at the other end of the arena, an empty glass vial held in his hand. The wound on his stomach swiftly disappeared as wriggling flesh squirmed underneath his clothes.
How is he so fast?! He was about to shoot more bullets when Zorrak abruptly dashed forward at extreme, superhuman speeds.
Traveling tens of meters in the blink of an eye, Zorrak already appeared in front of Roan before he could properly aim his weapon.
When the blade came swinging in, Roan’s instincts overruled his body, and his inventory opened right beside him. Pushing his hand into it, he pulled out his upgraded katana at the very last moment, blocking the incoming blade.
Sparks flew wildly in the air, and Roan was met by the hobgoblin’s teasing gaze.
“Well? How does it feel to almost die?” Zorrak asked amicably.
“Unpleasant.” Roan frowned. “Very unpleasant.”
His handgun then switched into a shotgun in the blink of an eye, and he pressed the trigger without hesitation. A hail of bullets came flying in, and as they flew through the air, Zorrak’s grin widened even further.
“A nice challenge.” The boss spoke as if he were fast-forwarded, and he swung his blade at even faster speeds.
The hail of incoming bullets was all split in half, but Roan simply used that moment to teleport away.
“Ugh, teleportation.” Zorrak groaned. “You don’t even have an artifact and you already have a busted ability.”
“Tell me, Zorrak!” Roan shouted from a distance, shooting another round of bullets while speaking. “What is this dungeon exactly?”
Zorrak hummed thoughtfully while rushing forward, dodging one bullet after another, a smile dangling on his unexpectedly handsome hobgoblin face.
“Well, what to say, what to say…” Zorrak smirked. “What to say so I can edge you the most?”
“For starters!” Zorrak swung his blade mid-run, abruptly doubling his speed once more, crossing the remaining distance between him and Roan. “This dungeon has a hundred floors, and belongs to the great and almighty creator, Yag-Shath!”
“I’m one of Yag-Shath’s great champions, and my job is to test out your worth in this dungeon!” The hobgoblin ruthlessly stabbed his blade forward, “We weed out the unworthy, and find those who are capable of venturing even further into this dungeon’s depths.”
Roan’s body disintegrated into a burst of white light, and Zorrak heard the young man’s voice from behind.
“And why are we tested in the first place?” Roan tried to swing his blade to attack the boss from behind, but a blade quickly blocked his own.
Turning around, Zorrak smiled, and spoke softly, “It’s simply natural selection. The weak perish, and the strong can strive. Who knows, if you continue doing well, just like you are now, you’ll eventually reach my level.”
“Your level?” Roan scoffed, grasping the empty air where a shotgun manifested. “I simply have to kill you and I’ll have reached your level already.”
“Hmm…” Zorrak’s smile held a hint of mystery as he disappeared in a blur, dodging the hail of bullets that were aimed at him. “Technically, that is right, but let’s see if you could really kill me—“
Just as the hobgoblin was trying to sound more mysterious and edgy, he gazed at the falling bottles of lit alcohol thrown across the arena and was confused, watching them fall slowly toward the ground.
“Flammables?” Zorrak mumbled for a while, before finally realizing the truth.
He quickly glanced around the empty arena, where only he was left and fell silent.
“FUCK!” Zorrak tried to catch the falling alcohol bottles, but could only grab a few and watched as the rest fell to the ground, shattering, and spreading flames that quickly covered the entirety of the arena.
“Damn it!” The boss monster clicked his tongue, moreso annoyed than feeling despair. “Damn travelers and their broken spatial travel. Just give them a moment to travel and they’ll worm their way out of the most precarious situation.”
“Ugh, that bastard must be chilling in the staircase room right now.” Zorrak gazed at the bright orange flames, let out a defeated sigh, and sat on the ground, letting the flames encroach upon his figure.
“Well done, Roan Peregrine.” Zorrak sheathed his sword, closed his eyes, and grinned. “You’re more than worthy to venture into the floors after me. You’re daring enough to exploit your situation, and make decisions that many would consider cheating and unfair.”
“That’s the mindset people like us should possess.” Zorrak nodded approvingly, closing his arms, as the flames soon burned his legs. However, not once did he flinch, and remained composed even when burning. “Even I would do the same if given the situation… Or maybe I’d use this rare opportunity of fighting a foe just barely above my level, and use them to sharpen my swordsmanship and footwork.”
Contemplating silently till his death, the hobgoblin was swiftly consumed by the flames along with the arena, and died, transforming into a charred, burnt corpse.
…
A few moments later, Roan, who leaned his back on the walls of the ‘lobby room’, the area before he entered the arena, stood up straight after checking the time on his phone, and phased through the walls, diving across rock layers until eventually finding his way into a now dry room.
The flames had spread towards the walls and ceilings, trailing along the moss embedded in the room to burn the entire place asunder. Now, the moss illuminating the room from the sky had been burned, turned into ashes, and only the light stemming from the torches on the walls lit up the darkened area.
Gazing at the area near the middle of the room, he found the charred corpse of a hobgoblin sitting cross-legged, a sheathed sword placed across their lap, while a strange, treasure chest-like object floated above its head, glowing brightly just like the red eye and the backpack.
“So that plan worked…” Roan would lie if he said he wasn’t surprised because he honestly thought the dungeon would prevent his cheat-ish actions, but to think it worked far more effectively than he had ever expected, killing the boss monster outright.
“That’s…. Huh.” He shrugged his shoulders, approached the corpse, and extended out his hand, slowly reaching out for the treasure chest hovering above the burnt hobgoblin.
I wonder what new game feature would I unlock this time?