chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Nike Is Hard to Please

After figuring out how to move my mana around, I began reading what little information I had about creating my first room. Apparently, I could use my mana to sculpt the walls, floor, and even the ceiling—I just had to manage my reserves properly.

"Hey! Nike!" I called out, trying to get his attention.

He responded quickly, though I noticed he was lounging on a large crystal. It was almost completely transparent, only slightly blurry, as if it had been polished but left with a faint distortion.

"What?" he asked, his tone dripping with boredom.

I frowned slightly. Maybe I was taking too long, and he was losing interest.

"Would there be any issues if I used up all my mana to do this?"

Nike barely shifted, still admiring the way the light refracted through the crystal beneath him. "Use the mana on what?"

"My core room. Like, would I get sick or hurt if I brought my mana down to zero to make a stable space?"

This time, he finally looked away from the crystal, but his gaze remained disinterested. "Don't do that. Just use a lot, but not all. When you run out of mana completely, you get a status called Mana Starved."

At last, he sat up and started making his way toward me. When he got close, he gave me a hard stare—so serious that, if I wasn't sure he meant it, I might've laughed and thought to myself, God, does every face he makes have to be this cute?

"Mana Starved reduces your physical stats and can even lead to starvation for dungeon cores," he explained. "After all, you're a magical being now."

Starvation.

The word made my stomach twist.

Back when I was human, I had never truly gone hungry, not in a way that made me fear for my life. But now... The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I don't have food. I don't have water. Do I even need them?

A spike of panic ran through me, my body tensing. "Nike… do I need to eat and drink like normal people? I mean, I do have a body." My voice wavered slightly, my hands clenching at my sides. I had already been so close to death once. The only reason I had survived was because I had stayed quiet and unnoticed. And now, here I was again, unsure if my own existence was at risk.

Nike burst into laughter, his body shaking as if what I had said was utterly ridiculous.

When he finally calmed down, he waved a hand dismissively. "No. Your main body is that core." He gestured toward the floating crystal that served as the heart of my dungeon. "If this body of yours gets destroyed, you can just reforge it with mana. Your flesh might feel real, but you're also a hunk of magical rock now. That's where your soul is anchored."

I let out a slow breath, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. So I won't starve to death. I won't die of thirst. That's a relief.

Nike continued, stretching his arms over his head. "Hell, most dungeon cores don't even start out with an avatar to move around in. You're a rare case." Then his lips curled into a mischievous grin. "But… since you're an incubus, you do have a way to grow stronger without relying on just your dungeon."

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he drawled, his tail flicking lazily behind him, "when you have a lustful encounter—and I don't mean with mobs, residents, or, well, me—but with delvers or invaders, you can gain experience from it."

I stared at him blankly for a second. Then, slowly, my brain caught up.

"…So if I fuck someone I don't know, I get stronger?"

Nike let out another chuckle. "Not enough for you to really notice after the beginning. But by the time you have actual delvers coming in, it won't even be something you think about." He crossed his arms, smirking. "Any other questions?"

I should have been satisfied with his answer. Knowing I wouldn't starve or waste away should have brought me some comfort. But instead, I just felt... weird.

I hesitated before speaking again. "What about you? Do I need to make sure you can eat and drink?"And just like that, his teasing expression returned.

Nike stepped closer, moving into my space before I even had time to react. I had finally managed to get my cock to go flaccid again, but the way he looked up at me, hands sliding along my waist, made my confidence waver.

"Well, most guides would need something," he admitted, his voice smooth and laced with amusement. "But I'm also a demon. We sustain ourselves on magic."

Then, slowly, his hands drifted downward.

A shiver ran through me as he cupped my girth, lifting up the heavy length with both hands. My breath hitched when he brought the tip just in front of his lips, his warm breath ghosting over it.

"But if you really wanted to make sure I was as healthy as I could be…" His tongue flicked out, tracing along the head before pulling away, chuckling at my reaction.

My thoughts blanked. My cock twitched, thickening once more against his grip.

"Maybe," he mused, tilting his head, "I can have a taste right before bed. While you're passing out, I'll give that big belly-bulger some time to stretch out my throat."

I swallowed hard. "I… um…" My mind scrambled for a way out. Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

"A-Anyway! I should get back to working on the room. I'll, uh… make somewhere comfy for us."

With what little dignity I had left, I quickly moved away—again.

For the second—no, third—time today, that evil little tramp had played me like a damn fiddle.

I needed to finish this room and head to bed before he actually killed me.

Finally, I was done.

The room was simple, structured somewhat like an apartment. It had two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a living room where my core sat—positioned almost like a coffee table in the center of the space.

It wasn't anything fancy, but it was a good start.Nike, however, had one issue with the room—one that, unfortunately, I had to fix before I could get any rest.

"Dungeons must always have one entrance to the dungeon core room," he had reminded me, his tone leaving no room for argument.

That meant I needed to make some adjustments. With a reluctant sigh, I used my mana to carve out a proper exit so the room wasn't a dead end. Once that was done, I turned my attention to the furniture—or, at least, what barely counted as furniture.

In each room, I placed a thick slab of crystal, shaping it into something that technically resembled a bed. It was firm. Very firm. More like a polished stone platform than anything comfortable.

I let out a weary sigh, running a hand through my hair. I'm going to miss blankets. And pillows. And literally anything soft.