Live Dungeon!

Chapter 347, Miss Pico!

Translator: Barnnn

Editor: Silavin

The next day, Korinna’s team sat around a round table in the Guild’s early morning quiet, having just finalized their contract for the day’s exploration. With the hall still mostly empty, it was a peaceful time to reminisce.

“Teach REALLY let himself loose yesterday, huh? I’ve never seen him that unguarded before. And now that I think back on it, yeah, I was kinda awful too… but seriously, who would’ve thought he’d end up giving me a piggyback ride!?”

“He’s usually so tense, like he’s always bracing for something,” Daryl chimed in with a chuckle. “But not last night. Honestly, I like that version of him a lot more.”

“…All the wine, worth tens of millions of G, ended up completely drained as a result, but judging by how happy everyone was, I suppose it was worth it,” Leleia said, nodding to herself. “Tsutomu himself probably got a good break out of it. And Daryl… you looked about ready to melt when you got complimented.”

“I did NOT!” Daryl protested, face red.

“It was quite endearing, like watching brothers bicker,” Korinna said with a fond smile.

“M-Miss Korinna! Not you, too! Please, stop already…”

“It just reminded me that Tsutomu is human after all,” Diniel added, and everyone nodded in agreement.

The previous night’s impromptu gathering had clearly left its mark, especially the sight of a tipsy, relaxed Tsutomu, so unlike his usual guarded self. He occasionally drank for the sake of company, but to see him truly intoxicated and actually enjoying himself had been a first.

The conversation was still lively, with the women animatedly reliving the events, Hannah especially at the center. But as time passed, Daryl began to fidget, stealing glances at the clock. Leleia, catching his unease, cleared her throat and shifted the topic.

“About the ninety-second layer… What’s the plan? We have three days left, but we still haven’t figured out a way to save the cub.”

“I’ve been turning over every option I can think of,” Diniel replied, her tone unusually serious. “But I’m starting to believe this isn’t something that can be solved with logic. If this were a stage production, then the cub was scripted to die every single time. I doubt there’s any conventional way to change it.”

It was rare, though understandable, for Diniel to sound so resigned. She had taken quite an obvious liking to the Fenrir cub, but the team’s rescue efforts over the past two days had met with nothing but failure.

At first, they’d thought winning the parent over would be the key. With their cooperation, things would naturally fall into place. That had been a mistake.

The cub was strong enough to rival most monsters, but on the ninety-second layer, she was a middle species of the ecosystem pyramid. At any moment, a single misstep could lead to her death. She might, for example, suddenly stick her head into a carnivorous plant’s maw. The first time that happened, Leleia had glared at the parent, as if criticizing the education it had given its child… or lack thereof.

Worse, if any of the party members let the cub out of their sight for even a moment, she would easily die in some unexpected, unfairly random ways. Once, she fell victim to a stray lightning strike from a Dragon flying overhead. Another time, she had boldly barked at a horde of monsters fleeing from the Rampage Elephant, unintentionally luring them toward the group. Everyone had been so focused on controlling the situation that, by the time they looked again, she was gone, crushed in the stampede.

Leleia had found herself narrowing her eyes more and more with each senseless death. The cub’s fate seemed less like bad luck and more like cruel orchestration.

Diniel was right; by now, everyone knew that normal methods wouldn’t suffice. But without even a hint of what WOULD, they sat in frustrated silence, arms folded and eyes downcast, until a hand gently came to rest on the table, breaking the stillness.

“Sounds like you’re having a tough time with the ninety-second layer, hmm?”

“Miss Pico!!” Daryl burst out, voice loud with surprise and relief.

“Please don’t call my name so loudly,” she murmured, cheeks pinking. “It’s embarrassing.”

“S-Sorry!”

Pico, known among the Dungeon Maniacs for her encyclopedic knowledge and as Xeno’s wife, offered a bashful smile. Though she tolerated it in a professional environment, she actually disliked being called by name. She felt it didn’t suit her plain appearance so Daryl’s enthusiastic greeting had caught her off guard.

“…Ah, it’s been a while,” Leleia said, blinking in recognition.

“Ooh,” Hannah added, eyes wide with curiosity; she and Leleia had only met Pico once before, so she didn’t remember much.

Diniel, meanwhile, sipped nonchalantly at a fruit juice through a straw, her expression unreadable.

“I asked her to come,” Korinna explained. “Daryl’s met her a few times already, too.”

“She joined us once when Sir Xeno took me out for wine,” Daryl said. “We talked a lot about the Dungeon; it’s been very educational.”

Korinna had been introduced to her by Tsutomu; he’d vouched for Pico as a top-tier Dungeon Maniac. Daryl had encountered her multiple times over meals with Xeno. Though she usually stayed in the background, she now stepped forward and knelt slightly so her face met Diniel’s drowsy gaze directly.

“Miss Diniel, you’re not the only one who wants to save the Fenrir cub; dozens of Dungeon Maniacs feel the same. I came today because I couldn’t bear the thought of such a lovely creature being condemned to death. So, if you don’t mind, could I have a moment to speak?”

“…Fine. Do as you like.”

“Thank you. Miss Leleia, Miss Hannah, may I?”

“Of course,” Leleia said. “I was hoping to hear input from the Dungeon Maniacs anyway.”

“Sure thing!” Hannah nodded.

With their permission, Pico took a seat and thanked them politely. Then, without delay, she pulled several documents from her Magic Bag and spread them across the table.

“I’ve compiled two possible strategies to save the Fenrir cub. The first involves using a Safe Zone. The second depends on exploiting monsters’ transformations.”

“…There’s a known Safe Zone on the ninety-second layer?” Leleia asked, startled.

Pico shook her head, but her tone remained light as she produced a few photographs from among the documents.

Hannah, trying her best not to look confused as she struggled to follow the discussion, leaned over to whisper to Daryl,

“…What’s a Safe Zone?”

“Uhh… It’s a place monsters won’t come near. Ah! That’s right, that COULD actually work…”

While Daryl was still reeling from the realization that he’d overlooked something so basic, the conversation between Leleia and Pico had already moved forward.

“The ninety-second layer shares a lot of similarities with the Forest set of layers,” Pico explained, tapping the photos she’d laid on the table. “See this great tree here, and this one in the ninety-second layer? The shapes are nearly identical. It’s hard to tell because there are even larger trees scattered around the ninety-second layer, but I believe the interior of this one may serve as a Safe Zone. Unlike the area near the Black Gate, Safe Zones don’t actively repel monsters, so it’s possible to bring the Fenrir cub into one.”

“…I see,” Leleia murmured, leaning closer to examine the photos.

“I’ve identified a few other spots that could be Safe Zones as well,” Pico went on. “Even if only one turns out to be the real thing, it’s still your best option within the remaining timeframe. So I suggest confirming whether these sites are valid first.”

“…So there were other Safe Zones in the Forest layers besides the great tree,” Leleia said, her brows furrowing with self-reproach.

She’d known about the great tree, of course, but the doughnut-shaped lake and the small, bluish depression in the yellow-green glade were news to her.

Pico noticed Leleia’s troubled expression and offered her a kind smile.

“Don’t worry. Only the most veteran Explorers ever made real use of those Safe Zones. By the time the God’s Dungeon had been around for a couple of years, female Explorers had begun making a name for themselves, and the need for Safe Zones dropped dramatically. Parties stopped holding up in them for long periods.”

When the God’s Dungeon first appeared, most top-ranking Explorers had been men. They weren’t overly concerned with things like bodily needs, so Safe Zones had been practical and commonly used. In fact, there were even tales of some parties deliberately broadcasting bathroom breaks via the Monitors for a good laugh; antics more at home in an all-boys school dormitory than a battlefield.

But with the rise of female Explorers like the idol Amy, and powerful, respected figures like Camille, that kind of vulgarity had swiftly fallen out of fashion. As a result, parties that relied on Safe Zones became rare, and the information about them faded from general knowledge.

“You advanced through the Swamp layers with hardly any trouble, didn’t you, Miss Leleia?” Pico continued. “That’s because you’re capable enough not to need obscure information like this; no shame in that. Everyone in this party is likely the same. And honestly, gathering obscure and largely useless facts like these is what Dungeon Maniacs like me do.”

Leleia, Daryl, Hannah, and Korinna weren’t among the Dungeon’s oldest Explorers, and Diniel had already been a strong fighter decades before any of them had been born. None of them had ever needed to rely on Safe Zones in the Forest layers, and so there had been no reason for them to learn about them.

“Y-yeah! That makes sense!” Hannah agreed, trying to rally.

“…Though, Miss Hannah, you might want to hit the books a bit harder,” Leleia said with a sidelong glance. “Not knowing what a Safe Zone even is? Really?”

“Wha — hey, I PROBABLY used one before! I mean, now that I think back on it, there WERE times I took breaks and no monsters showed up! But someone else handled all that stuff, okay!?”

“You won’t get anywhere if you keep relying on others forever,” Daryl said, half-sighing.

“Ugh, you’re being so mean today…”

Hannah’s wings drooped pitifully, while Pico, hiding a laugh behind her hand, moved on to her second proposed solution.

“This one’s more speculative, so take it with a grain of salt,” she began, her tone light. “You all know that the Shell Crabs mutated and got a lot stronger, right? But do you know WHY they mutated?”

“As far as I’ve heard, the mutation is a reaction to them being hunted in huge numbers to meet the market’s spike in demand,” Leleia answered.

“Exactly. The same phenomenon has occurred to other popular targets, such as the Queen Spider and the Rotten Swordsman. When a monster is heavily hunted in a short span of time, it reliably mutates, and previous strategies become ineffective. From what Dungeon Maniacs have observed, the Fenrir cub appears to mutate as well… and at a much faster rate than the others.”

“…Ah. So the idea isn’t to let her die and respawn stronger; it’s more like encouraging accelerated growth.”

“Precisely. But that process takes time, so consider this a backup idea. Mister Tsutomu told me you don’t have much time left, after all.”

“Yes, I understand. Both ideas are very helpful; thank you very much. Do we owe you anything for the information?”

“No, Mister Tsutomu already paid me in advance. Besides, I truly DO want to see that cub saved. I’ll keep in touch if I find anything else.”

With a warm smile, Pico stood and offered a quick bow. She had another job waiting and left the Guild soon after.

“Well then, looks like we’ve got our objective,” Leleia said.

“Yes,” Korinna replied. “The first step is to confirm those Safe Zones in the ninety-second layer.”

“All right, let’s do this!” Hannah nodded, pumping up her fists.

And so, with renewed enthusiasm, Korinna’s party set out once more for the ninety-second layer.