Goldenclaws HQ Dungeon

  “See!? Bad things could still happen even if I didn’t say anything!” Bella whispered-shouted, which was impressive because it was still technically a whisper.

  Despite her friends’ despair, Bella kept unloading her emotional baggage with unstoppable energy.

  “There is nothing wrong with being hopeful and positive,” Bella continued, pacing her words like a TED talk no one had asked for.

  The other Misfits didn’t even bother stopping her. Their souls were still buffering.

  “It’s not wrong if I want to say maybe the dwarves didn’t know this was the Single Piece dungeon,” Bella continued her rant, “and maybe the Single Piece is hidden somewhere in what is supposed to be a normal and obvious dungeon treasure room—but cleverly hidden from normal eyes. Normal eyes that were too busy staring at so many treasure chests lying around everywhere, bla bla bla—”

  And then—

  Ivy, Irving, and Kovalski snapped back to reality at the exact same time.

  “…Wait,” Ivy said, slowly shifting from grief to focus. “That… actually makes sense.”

  They exchanged glances, all thinking the same thing.

  They hurriedly pulled the treasure map out of their sub-space bag, ignoring Bella, who was still ranting in the background like atmospheric noise.

  “That’s right,” Ivy muttered as she unrolled the map, “This is one of Talvaris’ most legendary treasures. It shouldn’t have been stored like some ordinary dungeon’s leftovers.”

  “Check the map again,” Kovalski urged, leaning in with professional panic, “There might be hidden clues.”

  “Actually…” Irving squinted, pointing at a tiny sketch in the corner of the map like it personally offended him. “There. There are some pillar drawings and a doorway. I never understood what they were for.”

  The sketch showed four pillars, suspiciously identical to the ones in the treasure room they had just emotionally died in, and a doorway that existed only in the sketch and definitely not in the room itself.

  “It’s supposed to be… over there,” Ivy said, pointing at the direction of the wall.

  They moved toward it.

  Bella blinked mid-lecture. “—and when I told my teacher that— huh? Guys? Where are you going?”

  She scrambled after them.

  Irving knocked on the wall.

  Knock knock.

  Knock knock.

  Thud thud.

  A hollow section responded.

  He grinned.

  “It’s here,” Irving said.

  “Hey,” Ivy crouched lower, squinting, “There’s a faint inscription.”

  She read it aloud:

  “I roam the world

  And surely every one

  My voice has heard,

  Since first the world began”

  “Yet never one,

  By star or moon or sun

  My form has seen–

  Nor child, nor oldest man.”

  Kovalski exhaled slowly. “A dungeon riddle... For opening this secret door.”

  “I roam the world… Ah! I know!” Bella lit up excitedly.

  ---

  KABOOOOOOM

  The secret door didn’t open dramatically.

  It opened violently.

  Bella stood there, holding a C4 detonator—the misfit answer to many questions on their adventures.

  “Yep,” Bella beamed, “That was the right answer.”

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  A deeper pathway revealed itself underground.

  Kovalski winced. “Are you sure the dwarves didn’t hear that?”

  “Most likely not,” Irving said, shrugging toward the ceiling where the factory and boiler noise could still be faintly heard, “The boiler room and the factory above are noisy as fuck.”

  Ivy let out a villainous grin. “Kuukukuku. It’s a shame the dwarves looted the treasure here…”

  She slammed a hand over her own chest dramatically. “But the greatest treasure of all, the Single Piece? It’s going to be mine to take.”

  The Misfits grinned back, equally infected by the legendary treasure lust.

  ---

  Goldenclaws Guest Room

  Meanwhile above, another person was infected by a different kind of lust.

  Duke William could be seen sneaking toward the guest room.

  “Kukuku, a thirty-minute meeting tea break should be enough for a little tasting before tonight’s feast,” he muttered, his face greased with pure, unfiltered lust.

  He paused, looking around suspiciously.

  “Hmm. But where are Dillian’s bodyguards?”

  He waved it off. “Ah, it doesn’t matter. Kukuku.”

  He opened the door.

  “Ehm, excuse me, Miss Honey,” he greeted in his practiced diplomatic tone, “I was wondering if you might be a bit lonely waiting for the men’s meet—”

  But the guest room was empty.

  “Huh?”

  He checked the bathroom.

  Still empty.

  His face darkened. Because even the perverted could feel dread when the vibe shifted from romance to a security breach.

  ---

  Goldenclaws Factory Office

  Back in the industrial underbelly, Megan rummaged through the office admin desk.

  “My, oh my…” she whispered, her eyes sparkling, “Now this is a great treasure.”

  In her hand was the Goldenclaws smuggling ledger, documenting decades of illegal shipments of enhanced coal and weapons from Dwargonia to Meridinia Kingdom, all disguised as conventional trade goods.

  And conveniently?

  Names. Ranks. Approvals. Suppliers. Sources.

  A full criminal network dossier.

  The Goldenclaws truly believed every secret was safe inside their headquarters.

  Megan then tapped her comm.

  “Overlord, come in.”

  “This is Overlord,” Janet answered.

  “I found a ledger containing the smuggling routes the Goldenclaws used to source all their materials from Dwargonia,” Megan said. “And the ledger even includes names and ranks.”

  Janet sighed with admiration and disbelief. “Wow. That’s some premium leverage for us. We can use it for negotiating with the Dwargonians.”

  “Definitely. The Dwargonians would kill to retrieve this,” Megan said, smirking at herself quietly. “Good thing the Misfits made me come down here.”

  “Yeah… well, take all the pictures of those ledgers before you find the misfits,” Janet said.

  “Roger that, Overlord,” Megan said as her camera clicked silently.

  ---

  Dungeon Secret Room

  The secret path was a long, suspiciously smooth tunnel. At the end of the tunnel, the Misfits stepped into a circular chamber with many stone pillars.

  No traps.

  No boss aura.

  No ominous chanting.

  In the center of the room lies a lonely pedestal holding a glowing crystal cube—the kind that screamed “press me.”

  “Is this another riddle?” Ivy muttered, already exhausted by the dungeon’s theatrics.

  Kovalski leaned down to inspect the pedestal. No ancient inscription. No puzzle runes. No dramatic nonsense. Just a stone button.

  “Nothing,” Kovalski confirmed. “Only this button.”

  “Well then,” Irving sighed, “get ready.”

  Every Misfit raised their weapons.

  Their dungeon experience had taught them a universal truth:

  If a dungeon gave you only one choice, that choice was violence.

  Irving pressed the button.

  BZZT—HMMMMMMMM.

  The pedestal vibrated. The cube glowed brighter. Then a voice boomed out of it.

  “Welcome, o treasure seeker. I am Diamon D. Roger, the owner of this dungeon.”

  The room echoed dramatically.

  “Oh,” Ivy deflated, “it’s just a magic recording.”

  “So…” Bella whispered, relieved, “no boss fight then?”

  Everyone visibly relaxed. Guns lowered.

  “You have managed to overcome the countless obstacles that I personally created in this dungeon,” Roger’s voice continued. “The thousands of gold you saw in the previous room are my reward for you.”

  Diamon D. Roger accidentally used a mental attack. It was super effective.

  The Misfits instantly slumped into sorrow.

  Roger’s recorded voice continued:

  “BUT! You’re not satisfied with that gold, are you? Kukukuku. You want the greatest treasure that I, the King of Bandits, and my precious crew have collected!”

  Every Misfit twitched. Hope returned to their eyes.

  “And THAT is AMUSING!” Roger roared. “People call it greed! But my crew and I? We call it PASSION! Only the most passionate are worthy of the Single Piece!”

  The Misfits’ faces lit up even more.

  “It’s real…” Irving whispered, trembling. “The Single Piece is real!”

  “BUT!” Roger shouted again. “Before I reveal it, there is one more obstacle you and your nakama must pass!”

  The Misfits’ weapon safeties clicked off again. Their guards rose.

  “HOWEVER! Don’t worry!” Roger added quickly. “After all you’ve faced, this test will be VERY easy for you!”

  Guard lowered again.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Ivy sighed.

  “HOWEVER AGAIN!” Roger corrected himself, “If you FAIL this test, you are not worthy to even SEE the Single Piece!”

  Guard back up.

  “Okay,” Ivy snapped, “this Single Piece story is absurdly over-prolonged.”

  RUMBLE.

  A second pedestal rose from the floor, holding a crystal chalice.

  “Is that it?” Bella whispered. “Is that the Single Piece?”

  “This is the final test,” Roger narrated gravely. “The Nakama Test. The last person holding the chalice gets the Single Piece. Good luck.”

  Then silence.

  No dramatic music. No countdown. No “choose wisely.” Nothing.

  Just the implicit understanding that only one of them would walk out ridiculously wealthy tonight.

  Bella asked the forbidden question:

  “So… do we need to fight each other to get the treasure?”

  Irving’s face collapsed into a frown. “Oh no… this isn’t right.”

  “Yeah…” Kovalski said sadly. “We made it this far by sticking together.”

  “Diamon D. Roger was supposedly famous for valuing friendship in his crew…” Ivy muttered, betrayed. “Why give a test this cruel?”

  Click Click Click Click

  The safeties on every weapon were switched OFF in synchronized spite.

  Then—

  RATATATATATATATATATATA

  BANG BANG BANG BANG

  PSSHT PSSHT PSSHT PSSHT

  “THAT TREASURE IS FUCKING MINE!!!” they screamed in unison as they fired at each other rabidly.

  If the Single Piece demanded passion, the Misfits would deliver it with 'fully automatic' passion.