Knock, knock!

  The sharp, rhythmic rapping against the wooden door cut through the remnants of my sleep. I stirred, the itchy straw of the inn’s mattress a familiar sensation against my skin.

  “Mr. Han! Sir, it is morning. I brought your breakfast,” the innkeeper’s muffled voice called out from the hallway.

  I sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I was glad I had followed Copez’s advice and settled in early the night before. Though a lingering dizziness clung to my mind—a ghost of the previous day’s exhaustion—I found it easy enough to sober up once I took a deep breath of the cool morning air. I stood up, my joints popping, and moved toward the door. I didn't want to keep Stephen waiting.

  Click.

  I turned the heavy iron key and pulled the door open.

  “Good morning. Thank you for breakfast,” I said, offering a small, appreciative nod.

  “It is my job, sir. Please enjoy it,” Stephen replied with his usual professional courtesy.

  I received the heavy wooden tray from him and sat back down in the lone chair by the window. It was the same simple fare as the previous morning: a cup of cool water, a fresh loaf of dark bread, and a plate holding a sharp piece of cheese, a handful of brined black olives, and three savory sausages. I devoured the meal quickly, the protein and fats providing a much-needed boost to my energy reserves. Once finished, I donned my leather breastplate and iron-toed footwear, preparing myself for the return to the depths.

  Before leaving the inn, I approached the reception desk to secure provisions for the day. I didn't want to rely on luck for my next meal. I paid twenty copper coins for two meals' worth of portable rations and requested a bottle of water. While the water itself was ostensibly free, the sturdy glass bottle cost me a staggering eighty copper coins.

  I stared at the coin in my hand before handing it over—the silver coin I had earned with such effort the day before was now gone just to pay for the "privilege" of carrying water. But I quickly suppressed the irritation. Clean water was vital for a long delve; dehydration in a dungeon was a death sentence far more certain than a slime’s lunge. With my business at the inn concluded, I stepped out into the streets of Targashar and headed west.

  The city was still bathed in the deep blues of the pre-dawn hour. The horizon was just beginning to bleed into a pale, watery orange, casting long, sharp shadows against the cobblestones. Despite the early hour, a guard was already stationed at the massive rock entrance of the dungeon. I had half-hoped it would be the same man from yesterday—I had enjoyed our conversation—but as I drew closer, I saw a different figure leaning against the stone. We exchanged curt nods, and without a word, I stepped into the dark aperture of the hole.

  ***

  Targashar Dungeon

  Floor 1

  Floor 2

  Floor 3

  ***

  The interface flickered to life, clearly recording the progress I had made during my first day. I selected the third floor, eager to continue my ascent—or descent, as it were. The world around me blurred into a kaleidoscopic smear of gray and black for a heartbeat before snapping back into focus. I was standing at the entrance of the third floor.

  I steeled myself, drawing my steel sword and adjusting the straps of my iron shield. I knew I wasn't facing anything truly lethal yet, but the thrill of the hunt was addictive. Most people entered these dark halls to scratch out a living or to satisfy a sense of duty, but I had an additional purpose. I was living out a fantasy I had only ever dreamed of back in my old world. I intended to enjoy every level gained, every coin dropped, and every drop of strength I squeezed from this system.

  As I began my advance, a low, persistent buzzing sound echoed through the dim corridor. I stopped, my ears straining to pinpoint the source. The sound was moving—fast—and it was coming from directly ahead.

  As I moved forward a few more steps, the noise grew louder, vibrating in my chest like a swarm of angry hornets. It sounded like a common mosquito, but amplified ten times over. I could see a dark silhouette darting erratically in the air, zig-zagging between the glowing veins of the walls. It was a flying-type monster. I raised my shield higher than usual, narrowing my field of vision to protect my head and neck, and moved into the light.

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  ***

  Race: Horned Mosquito

  Sex: None

  Status: Normal

  Level 3

  ***

  The creature was a nightmare of biological efficiency. It had a slim, jet-black figure and a long, needle-like nose that looked more like a polished horn than a proboscis. I focused my attention on that horn; if that thing managed to pierce my leather armor, it would definitely leave more than just an itchy bump.

  The mosquito moved with the same jerky, momentum-defying physics as its smaller cousins, darting left and right with sudden, sharp bursts of speed. When I closed the distance to about ten meters, it finally acknowledged my presence. It didn't hesitate. The creature lunged with incredible speed, its horn aimed straight for my throat like a masterfully thrust rapier.

  For a second, I felt a flash of muscle memory. I remembered sparring with Aluciend back in the village—or perhaps it was a dream of him. He had favored a similar style: thin blades and lightning-fast stabs. This mosquito was nowhere near his level of technique or strength, but the sensation was the same. I caught the strike on the center of my shield.

  Clang.

  The impact was surprisingly light. Despite its terrifying speed, the mosquito lacked the mass of a slime or a centipede. It couldn't put any real pressure on my guard. It immediately began a rapid-fire series of stings, its horn clattering against the iron rim of my shield as it looked for a gap. When it couldn't find one, it darted back a few meters, preparing for another high-speed charge.

  I realized then that while the difficulty of the third floor had spiked in terms of agility, the monsters themselves were incredibly fragile. They were "glass cannons" without the cannon. I waited for its next charge, and just as its horn made contact with my shield, I swung my steel sword in a broad, horizontal arc.

  The blade sliced through the mosquito’s thorax like a hot knife through butter. It split in two and dissolved into vapor before it even hit the floor.

  As it disintegrated, several objects clattered to the stone. I knelt down to count them: six copper Obscura coins.

  Interesting, I thought. Floor 1 gave 1 coin. Floor 2 gave 3. Now Floor 3 gives 6. I still couldn't quite see the underlying mathematical sequence, but I knew that moving to higher floors was the only way to make my stay in Targashar profitable.

  I continued forward, keeping my shield high. I had forgotten to buy a map for the third floor from the guild, and I wasn't sure when they even opened or closed their doors. I decided to use the same strategy as the previous day: wander aimlessly but follow the sounds of other raiders. I moved quickly between encounters, treating the buzzing of wings as a dinner bell.

  The third floor felt significantly larger and more spacious than the ones above it. I encountered twenty-five more horned mosquitoes during my trek, collecting a total of 150 copper coins. The income was finally starting to look respectable.

  I also passed several other groups of raiders. Interestingly, I didn't see a single person working alone on this floor. Everyone moved in parties of at least two, and they seemed to take the mosquitoes very seriously. I even saw a man sitting against a wall while his partner applied a bandage to a nasty puncture wound in his thigh. Even if they were fragile, those horn-noses were lethal if they caught you in an unprotected area.

  Eventually, I reached the familiar sight of the boss room doors. Unlike the previous floors, there was no queue here. The massive doors weren't glowing, which meant the room was currently empty. I didn't want to waste the opportunity, so I stepped up to the threshold. Before entering, I decided to take a risk and briefly equipped my 'Identify' skill. I wanted to see if the boss followed a different logic.

  ***

  Race: Horned Mosquito

  Sex: None

  Status: Normal

  Level 3 Floor Boss

  ***

  The result was curious. It was the same species and the same level as the regular monsters, yet it was designated as a "Floor Boss." I quickly swapped the skill back for my experience-gain boosters before the creature noticed me.

  The boss looked identical to the regular mosquitoes, with one terrifying exception: its wings were not a translucent gray, but a deep, blood-red. It lunged at me the moment it materialized, its speed notably higher than anything I had fought so far.

  The impact against my shield was much heavier this time. It wasn't as strong as a centipede, but for a creature of its size, the force was impressive. I fought it the same way I had the others, playing a patient game of defense until I could catch the rhythm of its flight. It was harder to time the counter-attack because of the boss's sheer velocity, but eventually, I found the opening. I activated a quick strike, slicing the red-winged terror in two.

  It dropped sixty copper coins—a veritable jackpot. For a moment, I felt like a wealthy man, even if the "treasure" was all base copper.

  Exhaustion and hunger finally began to set in. I checked my internal clock and realized I could push through to the fourth floor, but it would be better to eat now while I was in the safety of a cleared boss room. I sat on the floor, ignoring the damp stone, and pulled out the rations I had bought from Stephen. The meal was bland and dry, but it provided the fuel I needed. I washed it down with the water from my expensive eighty-copper bottle.

  As I sat there chewing, I noticed something strange. The room didn't feel as wide as it had when I first entered. At first, I thought it was a trick of the dim light, but then I looked at the corners. The walls were moving. The chamber was slowly, steadily shrinking.

  The rate of shrinkage seemed to be increasing as time passed. I didn't know what would happen if the room collapsed entirely—whether I'd be crushed or simply ejected—but I wasn't about to stick around to find out. I quickly gathered my gear, stood up, and hurried through the exit door toward the fourth floor.

  [Edited]