Twenty minutes later, we heard footsteps.
Heavy boots. The clanking of metal. The tell-tale banter of a low-level adventuring party.
"I’m telling you, I heard a noise in here," a voice echoed down the tunnel. "Probably a rare spawn. Easy XP."
"I just need enough gold to pay off my sword interest," another voice grumbled. "The Bank of St. Cuthbert is threatening to repossess my scabbard."
I focused my sensors. Two humans.
One was a Warrior, clad in rusty chainmail that looked like it hadn't been oiled since the First Era.
The other was a Thief, holding a dagger that was clearly leased.
"Okay team, listen up," I projected telepathically to Gub and his two associates, whom I had mentally named 'Asset A' and 'Asset B'. "Positions. Just like we practiced. Remember: we want their wallet, not their lives. Dead customers don't pay repeat visit fees."
The Warrior stepped into my chamber, torch held high. "Whoa. Look at that."
He pointed his sword right at me. "That’s a Dungeon Core! A black one! Do you know how much that’ll fetch on the black market? That’s at least six months of rent!"
"Jackpot!" the Thief cheered, sprinting forward.
"Wait for it..." I whispered to myself.
The Thief rushed across the room, eyes glued to my glossy, geometric perfection. He ignored the floor.
Big mistake.
I had spent my last 10 Mana not on a monster, but on a structural renovation. I had used my [Edit Terrain] function to remove the friction coefficient on a ten-foot patch of slime directly in front of me.
The Thief hit the patch. His feet went out from under him with cartoonish velocity. He didn't just fall; he accelerated horizontally.
CRACK.
His head met the stone floor. He slid, unconscious, coming to a stop right at the base of my pedestal.
"Toby!" the Warrior shouted, charging forward to help his friend.
"Gub, now!" I commanded.
From the shadows of the ceiling stalactites, Gub dropped. He didn't have a weapon. He had a bucket. A bucket filled with the most vile, sticky, hazardous waste we could scrape together from the corners of the cave.
Gub dumped the bucket on the Warrior’s head.
The Warrior spluttered, blinded by the sludge, swinging his sword wildly. "My eyes! It burns! Is this acid?"
"No," I thought. "It’s bat guano. Highly acidic if left to ferment. Organic warfare."
The Warrior tripped over his unconscious friend and crashed into the wall with a metallic clang. He groaned, trying to wipe the muck from his eyes, but Asset A and Asset B were already there. They didn't stab him. They did exactly what I told them to do.
They robbed him.
Asset A snatched the purse from the Warrior’s belt.
Asset B unbuckled the fancy leather boots from the unconscious Thief.
"Retreat!" I ordered.
The goblins scrambled back into the darkness, clutching their loot. The Warrior, humiliated, blind, and now broke, grabbed his friend by the collar and dragged him backward toward the exit.
"Curse this place!" he screamed. "I’m filing a complaint with the Guild! This isn't balanced encounter design!"
They vanished up the tunnel.
Silence returned to the cave. My Mana counter had dropped to 5. I was minutes away from death.
"Gub," I said. "Bring the assets to the Core."
The goblin scurried forward and dumped the contents of the coin purse onto the floor in front of me. Copper coins. A few silver. And a small, glowing blue vial.
A mana potion.
"Feed it to me," I ordered.
Gub uncorked the vial and poured the glowing liquid over my crystal surface.
Sizzle.
It felt like chugging an energy drink after a three-day bender. Pure, electric revitalization.
System Alert: Mana Absorbed.
Current Balance: 255 Mana.
Loot Value Appraised: 150 Mana (in local currency).
I wasn't rich. I was barely scraping by. But I was alive. And more importantly, I had a business model.
"Good work, team," I said, my voice echoing with new strength. "That was a successful soft launch. But we need to scale. Gub, go find more rocks. We’re building a maze."
I looked at the system clock. 23 hours left to pay off the first installment of my debt.
The fantasy world wanted to play by the rules of capitalism? Fine. I was going to show them exactly why you never, ever let a CEO run the dungeon.
"Time to disrupt the market," I whispered.
ns216.73.216.10da2
and then Add to home screen.