Fun Dungeon Exploration! (6)

'Something is expected to emerge from underground.'

The premise was simple, but the impact carried by the sentence was anything but light.

Is it really okay for things to suddenly get this serious? Of course, I had suspected that this place wouldn't be a bright and hopeful fantasy world, especially after discovering the torn map on the sewer wall.

But I didn't expect the background story to include monsters mimicking humans or beings sealed beneath a church!

At least such things should appear around the 'development' part of the story, right?

Right now, our protagonist is trapped in the body of a pathetic brute, carrying not even the legendary sword but a cheap iron sword worth three silver coins that you can buy at a blacksmith's shop.

And this guy can't even properly wield a dagger, to the point where he almost accidentally killed someone.

Surely, the story won't start with a seal breaking and the gates of hell opening, leading to chaos, right? Please, no.

In an instant, stress peaked, but I forced myself to put on a calm smile. Leonardo was right there, close enough to touch. Right, right, as if you had sensed it, or as if you already knew that monsters would emerge from underground.

My temples ached, and my hands itched to rub them, but Leonardo didn't hide his confused expression. Instead, he asked, seeming more doubtful than anything else.

"You believe me? Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"I don't get why you'd come to such a conclusion so easily. You should be more suspicious."

"What, you mean the useless young master I knew actually had hidden talents? You asked me to believe, so why can't you accept it?"

I lightly tapped Leonardo's shoulder, trying to shift the mood and get us back to seriousness.

"Monsters are roaming underground, and we're here trying to outwit the grave robbers and their own underlings. With enemies all around, at least you and I are in this together. What's wrong with me believing in you?"

"..."

"And since I've got your back, trusting you is my choice too."

"Why would you say something like that?"

"What's it to you? It's how I feel."

Now, hush. I've got a lot to think about.

I let Leonardo's confusion slide and returned to the more important issue at hand.

Monsters. In this gloomy underground, I might actually be forced to film some kind of monster survival mystery horror.

'I had some inkling, but this is getting troublesome.'

When I say "inkling," of course, it's from those hints of eerie horror that were sprinkled throughout the script notes. Anyway, it's not a lie. That much is true.

Lost in thought, I barely noticed Leonardo hesitating before quietly approaching and extending his hand. Is he trying to comfort me? Somehow, it seems like this has become his default method of offering reassurance.

For a moment, I thought it was pretty ridiculous, two men doing this. But instinctively, I reached out, pressing down on the soft, oval-shaped flesh under Leonardo's thumb. It felt like squeezing a stress ball.

Leonardo endured the pressure silently, occasionally moving his hand as if to return the favour. I had a feeling that spot I just pressed was where you push when someone's feeling bloated or off…

I took a moment to clear my mind, then directly asked him.

"If we run into those things, can you handle them?"

"I can probably take care of a few, but a prolonged fight would be tough."

It seemed like it was impossible to face the monsters with nothing but the meager strength of the early stages, where there were no reliable party members or any real firepower.

Meanwhile, Leonardo, who had apparently misunderstood that I had some bad past entanglement with those things, clumsily tried to offer some words of comfort.

"You don't need to worry too much. It seems like only a few of them have crawled up through a small gap for now. Orlie is a discerner, so he's probably already brought the issue to the church. Archbishop Butier isn't an easy guy either, so he's likely prepared some countermeasures."

Is this a small silver lining in the midst of misfortune? Well, the fact that I had already hinted at the powerful backstory of "bad memories from the past" made the scene where the innkeeper, a suspicious character, was freaking out over just a few monsters crawling out somewhat justifiable.

At least the character won't fall apart. I'm really the one who's concerned about it. It almost feels like I'm acting 24/7. I thought this as I wrapped up my conversation with Leonardo.

"Got it. For now, let's finish the search and focus on getting out of the underground quickly. We can't solve everything right away, and we're here for a different reason, after all."

Leonardo nodded silently. At that moment, I sensed a presence behind us, and the leader of the grave robbers stuck his head in.

He said the wall-breaking job was done, so I went to check it out—there was only a hole big enough for one person to squeeze through. They had piled sandbags and stones, then covered them with mud. It didn't take too long.

We continued on, breaking down wall after wall as we moved forward.

'Has it been about half a day?'

Clang! Clang!

The pickaxe brigade was hard at work on the final partition leading to the third underground floor. The further we went in, the more elaborate the crude, earth-made cityscape became.

Tall buildings with facades, a round fountain, walls with brick patterns meant to mimic real boundaries. The bricks weren't actual bricks—just shallow carvings that made it look the part, and the fountain didn't flow with water. They were merely decorative relics, no longer functional.

Why was there such an obsession with copying the surface world exactly?

I could only guess that it was driven by the desperation of humans trapped here. A yearning to reclaim what was lost, even if it was just a pale imitation.

The grave robbers gave the final push.

Clang!

A small opening, barely big enough for a person to squeeze through. The grave robbers and his leader passed through without trouble, but Leonardo and I had to contort our bodies to fit.

Especially Leonardo…

"Really, aren't you getting a bit… fatter?"

"..."

It was far too embarrassing a conversation to share with the grave robber and his men, so I whispered it quietly to Leonardo. Still, the important thing was that we managed to get through. The fact that we had to break down a bit more of the wall was irrelevant.

The path to the third underground floor was a long, winding natural cave.

The floor was sloped and slick, the air thick with the smell of damp earth and water. As I lifted the lantern higher, the sharp, tooth-like stalactites reflected the light, shimmering like the fangs of some enormous creature.

"Better be careful."

Leonardo advised as he cautiously checked the slippery floor. He must have been reminded of his near-fall at the inn's staircase. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

At last, we arrived at the end of the sloped path, entering the third floor.

The map was finally filled in.

[You have discovered the 3rd floor of the Sinistra Underground Labyrinth (Isolation Area/Underground Prison)!]

What lay before our eyes were pits densely lined with bones, a graveyard.

A chilling atmosphere lingered. Even the grave robbers, who made a living by looting others' graves, seemed momentarily overwhelmed, swallowing their breath. This was a solemn place of death. I took a few steps forward, bowed my head, and peered into one of the pits.

It wasn't the typical prison with iron bars one might imagine. The pits were deep holes, dug downwards to prevent escape. The surface was slick and damp, as if groundwater had seeped out. It didn't seem like climbing the walls would be possible.

I lifted my head and surveyed the surroundings of the third underground floor. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of such prisons were spread across the area. It looked like a giant rabbit hole.

The grave robber leader, holding a torch, muttered under his breath in disgust.

"What kind of city is this…?"

Yeah, I totally agree. He probably didn't know much about Sinistra, being from the Lopez family. Even if the city had been invaded, it must be uncommon to see something like this. I, too, had no idea what this place really was.

At that moment, something caught my eye. In the centre, there was a tunnel unusually wide compared to the others. No, it was more like a massive sinkhole, wasn't it?

As I turned to look, Leonardo crossed a narrow path first, then reached out his hand to guide me. I grabbed his hand carefully, making sure not to step on the prison pits lining the floor.

In the largest and deepest hole of the third underground floor, there was a pit filled with black powder, bones, and scraps of clothing. The air around the deep pit reeked of a strange, foul odour. It wasn't until later that I realized it was the stench of rotting corpses, a lingering scent of death.

There was something between the pits.

"Leo—"

Had I been rattled? I made the ridiculous mistake of saying his name out loud.

For a brief moment, I froze, then quickly tried to act natural, cutting off his name mid-sentence as I gestured toward the object. Leonardo, also momentarily thrown off by the informal address, extended his sword and skillfully lifted the object.

The dead man must have been hugging him tightly until he died, so his finger bones were dangling. While I was secretly disgusted, Leonardo brushed off the bones without a care in the world.

It was some sort of book, but instead of paper, it was made from pieces of cloth sewn together, with writing inscribed on it. The different colours and textures of the fabric suggested that each piece had been torn from different people's clothing.

Leonardo and I each took an end of the cloth. Then, we reached out and turned the first page.

I turned to the second page.

I turned to the third page.

My stomach churned, and I closed the book. At least for now, reading through the entire thing here was out of the question.

Leonardo's soft whisper came through, strangely distant, as if submerged in water.

"Are you alright?"

No.

"Uh, I'm fine."

I shifted my focus to another keyword—assimilation and mimicry. Stefan's story particularly caught my attention. I had a vague idea of how their methods worked.

Isn't this like a Trojan horse tactic? It hides in a form that doesn't raise suspicion, blending in with the prey, and then strikes when they let their guard down.

Earlier, Orlie had said that they wouldn't die until their form was complete, so "mimicry" must refer to the stage where they've fully taken on a human form. In other words, it's when they have a physical, human shape, and can be killed.

I glanced down at the pit.

Can this truly be called a grave? Everything here is stagnant. Therefore, this is not a grave. It's merely a pit where the remnants of death are thrown and piled up. Without commemoration or sorrow, it is simply a place to dispose of the aftermath left by the intruders.

If the purpose of a grave is not just a simple tomb but a place to honour the deceased, then perhaps the closest thing to a grave in this place is the record created from stitching together these clothes.

"...Let's keep going. There should be a passage nearby that leads to the underground sanctuary."

I tucked the book into my coat.

The sound of footsteps on the stone floor echoed through the cave. I could see centipedes crawling in the darkness. This was a journey that didn't require pickaxes; everyone was simply walking.

Grave Robber #1 suddenly muttered in a suspicious tone.

"Do you hear that sound?"

In the silence, the grave robbers, sensing something, let out a quiet chuckle, as if they'd found something amusing. Their teasing about being scared filled the air, but I remained still, focusing on the sound. What exactly were they hearing that made them laugh like that?

Shuff-shuff. Shuff-shuff.

Shuff-shuff. Shuff-shuff.

Shuff-shuff...

However, the sound of nine men's footsteps drowned out most other noise. Then, Leonardo, who had been walking beside me, suddenly stopped. I followed suit, as did the rest of the grave robbers and their leader.

But then, there was the sound of footsteps.

One extra.

…Shuff-shuff.

It should have been nine, but there was one more.

'Since when?'

Before I could even question it, someone reacted quickly.

"Get down."