Randy shivered from the extreme cold of the Death Desert, despite his efforts to keep warm by wearing a thick coat. It was almost as if the chill had a magical debuff, helping it creep into every crevice of his body, freezing him down to the bone.

  His gaze was locked onto the strike team in the distance that had made it to the entrance of the grand crypt—heaps of shattered bone lying in their wake as the large group of priests had understandably attracted a large number of undead during their journey, leaving nothing for Randy and his two friends to break up the monotony of marching across the dunes.

  "Is this really gonna be worth it?"

  Randy clicked his tongue and looked at Vesper, a friend he had made in his first year of university. Vesper glared back at him. It wasn't his fault; he just looked perpetually annoyed and on edge, which matched his class as a Shadowblade, a rare type of assassin class that manipulated shadows.

  Honestly, Randy didn't even know if Vesper was his real name. For all he knew, the edgelord's real name was something simpler, like Ben or Ollie. He was American, having come to Tokyo as an exchange student, but he was fluent in multiple languages and, honestly, an overall impressive person. Though that didn't make up for his snark and, honestly, grating personality.

  "Yes, of course it will be worth it," Randy replied. It wasn't often you got to enjoy a casual walk through the Death Desert by following a strike team.

  While they were unlikely to let them get close enough to watch the fight with the floor boss, it was still worth a try. As an analyst in training for the Guild Association, he could collect valuable data that would give him an edge over his peers who would be joining soon.

  "If you say so, bro," Vesper said, pulling the scarf that was covering the bottom half of his face tighter. Randy ignored his friend's obvious displeasure and turned to the other member of their trio, Valoria, a timid Japanese girl he had met in the second year of university. She was trudging a step or two behind them. He turned, trying to give her a warm, encouraging smile. "It's not far to go now," he said, pointing at the entrance to the crypt in the distance. "Maybe twenty minutes of trudging across this sand, at most."

  Unlike Vesper, Valoria was a kind-hearted person. She returned the smile and nodded, picking up her pace slightly to try to catch up. Randy slowed his own pace a little, earning an annoyed huff from Vesper.

  Randy chuckled and looked up at the fake night sky of the dungeon. Honestly, he couldn't believe that this place existed under Tokyo. Had it always been here, and the System's arrival simply uncovered it? Or did it manifest as the world became flooded with mana? He didn't know—no one really did. It was all speculation at the end of the day. The only thing that mattered was that humanity came together and consistently cleared out the dungeon to prevent any dungeon rushes.

  That was going to be his job in the future as an analyst: to make sure situations were contained and managed before they got out of control. It was odd that such a high-level Living Armor had appeared on this floor, with the only thing making sense being its affinity as an undead; otherwise, he would have expected it to be a floor boss on the fifth floor.

  His mind wandered aimlessly as they continued to trudge across the desert. There wasn't much else to do, considering all the monsters had been taken care of by the strike team.

  "Who is that?" Vesper said, breaking the silence.

  Randy looked to the side and saw Vesper pointing to a figure on the horizon.

  "Another hunter?" Valoria said as she took advantage of their pause to catch up.

  "Seems so," Randy said, his hands tightening on the bow he'd been holding. "But why are they alone?"

  Vesper nodded in agreement. "That is the question, isn't it? The Guild Association mandates that everyone delve in groups of three. Yet this person seems alone."

  Randy narrowed his eyes and muttered, "Appraisal." Golden mana surged toward his eyes, and after looking at the approaching figure intently, a system message manifested above his head: [Human (Spellblade: Level 15)]

  "He's a bit weaker than us," Randy said, relaxing slightly. It was 3v1, and all three of them were higher level, being level 18, 21, and 24, respectively.

  "Maybe we should see what he wants," Vesper suggested, pulling out a dagger from his sheath. "It'll be bad to have our backs to him when we enter the crypt. Should we approach him?"

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  Randy nodded at that idea. It was never a waste to be too careful.

  As the highest level, Vesper took the lead while saying, "Since we don't have a tank in our group, we should try to maintain distance. I'll take the front—Randy, keep an arrow knocked, and the moment they show any signs of battle, I'll slash their legs to immobilize them, giving you a clear shot."

  "Always thinking about the kill," Valoria muttered.

  "Of course—what good assassin wouldn't?" Vesper said bluntly, not bothering to look back.

  That was the last they spoke for a while as they shifted their course to confront the incoming person. Once they were a single sand dune apart—around ten meters—the trio came to a halt on the high ground.

  Randy was about to call out, but the unknown Hunter beat him to it. "Hello—sorry to approach the three of you," the Spellblade said. "I was hoping to get directions to the third floor. I'm quite lost with all this endless sand and darkness."

  Valoria perked up and pointed past the white crypt looming to the side. "It's about a three-hour walk in that direction. You'll find it nestled between three great pillars—one of them has, like, the top cut off slightly. You'll know what I mean when you see it."

  The Spellblade nodded appreciatively. "Thank you. That's very helpful."

  Randy saw out of the corner of his eye that Vesper relaxed slightly, so he also loosened his grip on the bow. The Spellblade seemed friendly, for the most part, but Randy still had questions. "Why are you traveling alone?" he asked, his voice calm and steady.

  "There were two others with me," the Spellblade said, his voice muffled by the helmet. "But they died while facing a floor boss we randomly ran into."

  "A floor boss? What type was it?"

  "Undead—a Living Armor," the Spellblade replied. "I don't know if they're alive or dead. I barely managed to get out alive myself."

  "Then why are you trying to head to the third floor of the dungeon?" Randy asked.

  It was a good question. The Guild Association made people delve in groups of three, as you needed a well-balanced party to deal with all threats that pop up. Judging by the man's armor being badly damaged, he was likely injured. For someone of his level to go down to the third floor alone was practically suicidal.

  The Spellblade paused for a moment too long, as if to contemplate an answer. "I'll be honest," he said. "Do you see my armor? How badly damaged it is? I need enough money to buy a new set before I go to the surface. That's why I wish to go to the third floor."

  Randy slowly nodded. The logic did make some sense—if this man was dead broke, like many hunters were, as a Spellblade, he wouldn't ever be able to delve again until he bought a new suit of armor.

  However, it was still quite questionable reasoning. The safest option was to return home, possibly work a simple job for a few months, and then buy a new set. But he didn't know the man's personal circumstances—perhaps he was a college dropout and had no other means to make money.

  However, the third floor was also known as a great place to make some quick cash, unlike the second floor, which was just sand and undead. The third floor was infested with goblins that resided in towns and even cities, which were treasure troves. Like little, ugly dragons, they loved to hoard items. But the reward came with risk. The goblins were far more intelligent than most monsters, making them a nightmare to deal with.

  Yet, it was worth it. Randy had heard stories of Hunters finding months' worth of loot in a single run.

  "We should go with him," Valoria suggested.

  Randy gave her a glance. "We can't go with him. We came down here with a goal in mind."

  "Yeah, but you have to admit that goal isn't very lucrative," Valoria sheepishly pointed out.

  "But..."

  "Randy, I get the idea of gathering information and selling it, but the Guild's elites are down there. You really think they went down there without a team of analysts? Information is power, but no one wants to buy your information," Vesper added unprompted, as if he saw an opportunity to strike.

  Randy felt like he was taking an arrow to the heart. Valoria—the usually kind-spirited girl—was laying out the truth, and Vesper had ganged up on him.

  "Your offer is very kind, but I work well alone," the Spellblade chimed in, starting to walk off in the direction Valoria had previously pointed. "I appreciate the directions, and I hope we meet again someday."

  "Wait," Vesper called out in a commanding tone that made the Spellblade pause. "I agree with Valoria. I think joining him would be a good idea."

  It was Randy's turn to glare at Vesper. "You're betraying me too?"

  "Come on," Vesper rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic. We came down here to join you on this quest because you asked nicely, but be real Randy, this is kind of a waste of time. There's nothing here, and we'll just be watching others fight. Any loot of value the strike team will have taken to cover some of their losses on this likely costly raid."

  Randy grumbled, "If you didn't want to come, you shouldn't have accepted my invitation."

  "Don't be ridiculous, Randy," Valoria said. "We would never make you go on a mission like this with two random people, but you have to admit it'd be a much better use of our time to head down to the third floor. Look," she said, gesturing toward the Spellblade below, "he is the one thing our party has been lacking—a front-liner. Spellblades are excellent at tearing through large groups of enemies and destroying structures. I heard they're practically one-man armies. If we back him up, I'm sure we could hit a goblin town or maybe even a city. What do you say, sir? Would you be down to have us?"

  The Spellblade seemed hesitant.

  Randy felt his shoulders sag. They were right, and he could really use the money. He was going to have to move out of his dorm room by the end of the week and find more permanent housing—and the city was not cheap.

  Looking at the Spellblade, he cleared his throat with a cough. Shamelessly, he asked, "Would you be fine with us joining your party?"

  The Spellblade paused and thought for a moment before slowly nodding.

  "Sure," he said, "but I must warn you, you might come to regret it."

  to read ahead!