Chapter-10
Alejandro sat comfortably in a private seat near the back of the plane, surrounded by the low hum of the engines and the occasional clink of glasses from the nearby first-class cabin. The flight to Oslo had taken off smoothly, and with no one seated beside him and the window giving him a view of the clouds tinged orange by the setting sun, he finally allowed himself to breathe.
Rome was behind him.
And for now, so were the eyes of the Association.
He leaned back in his seat and, with a discreet thought, opened the interface of his Dungeon Creation System—a translucent, floating menu only he could see, embedded in his consciousness like a second mind.
[SYSTEM: Dungeon Creation]
– Currency Available: ∞
– Active Dungeons: 1
– Create New Dungeon [✔]
– Manage Existing Dungeons [✔]
– Configure Monster Table [✔]
– World Assets: Anime | Games | Books | Movies
He tapped his finger lightly in the air, pulling down a menu and opening up the monster configuration tab.
The interface expanded, showing a sprawling list of monsters from across genres and fiction—some so obscure only he would recognize them, others ripped straight from global mythology or fantasy worlds.
"I could summon an Arachne Queen from that old game…"
"Or even a low-tier hollow from Bleach…"
But that wasn't the plan. Not yet.
He needed to divert attention. The dungeon near Rome had already stirred curiosity, and his sudden departure wouldn't help. The best way to disappear was to leave behind just enough noise to make them look in the wrong direction.
He opened a blank dungeon template and started tweaking parameters.
Name: Forgotten Tunnels
Location: Southern France – Hills of Provence
Type: Cave / Natural Tunnel System
Estimated Rank: E-Rank
Monsters:
– Feral Hounds (Common)
– Cave Bats (Common)
– Mud Golem Fragments (Uncommon)
Boss:
– Stonehide Gnoll (D-Rank Capable, Downgraded to E-Rank stats)
Done.
He created another. This time in rural Slovakia, nestled in an unassuming forest near an old village.
Name: Hollow Grove
Theme: Undead / Cursed Forest
Monsters: Decayed Sprites, Bonebirds, Shambling Corpses
Boss: Cracked Revenant (E-Rank)
He adjusted the mana output so the dungeons wouldn't attract too much attention—but just enough to register on national monitors. It would look like nothing more than random natural Gates, the kind that popped up every few weeks. Hunters would clear them, write reports, move on.
Meanwhile, he'd be in Oslo.
And no one would suspect a thing.
He closed the menus and leaned back in his seat as the lights dimmed and the crew announced their descent to Berlin for transfer.
A small smile played at the corner of his lips.
"Let's see how long they chase shadows…"
Outside, the plane soared through the clouds.
Below, new dungeons bloomed into being—phantoms born of fiction and design.
The air in Oslo was brisk, crisp with late winter's bite as Alejandro stepped out of the airport's terminal and into the waiting car sent by the hotel. By the time he reached his destination—an upscale, modern boutique hotel nestled near the edge of the Frogner district—the sun had already begun to dip behind the skyline, casting golden hues over the snow-dusted streets.
He didn't even have time to check in before he saw her standing near the entrance.
She was striking in both appearance and bearing—tall, platinum-blonde, with sharp eyes the color of glacier ice. Her black dress hugged her frame like it had been tailored by intent, not accident. The heels clicked sharply as she stepped forward, hand outstretched with a poised smile that didn't quite reach her calculating gaze.
"Mr. Vargas, welcome to Oslo. I'm Freja Lindholm, recruitment liaison for the Valhallan Dawn Guild. We've been expecting you."
Alejandro blinked.
'Not even a minute to breathe?' he thought, taking her hand briefly.
"That was fast," he said aloud, masking his curiosity. "I didn't announce I was coming."
Freja's smile sharpened. "No, but the Italian Association did file a report with timestamped records. After that, we monitored your incoming flight. Norway is not a small country, Mr. Vargas—we like to stay informed."
He gave a short nod as a hotel staff member discreetly took his bag.
"Let me guess," he said, following her inside the warm lobby, "you're here because Norway wants new talent. And I'm now on your radar."
Her chuckle was soft but direct. "Smart and sharp. Yes. Norway's hunter ecosystem is small. We're efficient, but we lack true top-tier power. Our guildmaster, Einar Solberg, is a high A-rank—respected, capable, but not an S-rank. And that gap limits our ability to compete internationally."
They reached the private elevator, which opened with a soft chime. She pressed the button to the top floor—his reserved suite.
"That's why," she continued, her voice low, "we've made it a national strategy to recruit rising talents from abroad. It worked before—three of our current A-rank hunters were imported, so to speak. All of them started as C or B-rank. Now they're pillars of Valhallan Dawn."
He stepped into the suite, modern and sleek, with panoramic views of the city and fjord beyond. He didn't reply immediately, letting her words hang in the air.
"You're wondering if we're asking you to join," she said, turning slightly, her silhouette framed by the window. "The answer is: not yet."
"Oh?"
"We're asking you to consider it." She met his gaze directly. "Stay awhile. Clear some dungeons. Meet the guildmaster. Let us show you what Norway can offer that Italy, Spain, or even Germany can't."
Alejandro walked to the minibar and grabbed a water bottle, twisting it open.
"And if I say no?"
"Then we thank you for your time, and keep our eyes on your progress. Quietly." Her lips curved in a knowing smile. "But I don't think you'll say no."
He raised a brow. "Confident."
"No. Just observant."
With that, Freja turned, her heels echoing as she stepped toward the door.
"Rest well, Mr. Vargas. We'll be in touch soon."
The door clicked shut behind her.
Alejandro exhaled slowly and turned back to the glowing city outside.
Another country, another guild, another game.
But the rules?
Still his to shape.