Upgrade and Attack

In the early days of exploring low-difficulty dungeons, one of the key advantages for any seasoned agent was the ease with which experience was gathered. With the right teammate by your side, you could almost afford to relax—even lie down—and let the dungeon do its work. Nate Locke, now deep into his covert mission in a surreal digital underworld, felt that same sense of controlled ease. Standing amid an environment that blended the mystical with cutting-edge technology, Nate observed the creature spawns with a measured calm that belied the danger lurking beneath the surface.

In the dim, otherworldly light of the dungeon's corridors, the little kobold-like creatures—small, nimble beings with oversized, innocent eyes—hovered suspended in mid-air. Their expressions were almost childlike, completely unaware of the havoc they could unleash. As Nate raised his custom-issue pistol and began practicing rapid-fire shooting drills, he was under the expert guidance of his trusted partner, Quinn Maxwell. Quinn had recently removed the superpower suppressor from his own head—a device that had been holding back his full potential—and now his mental acuity allowed him to control the environment like few could.

"Seriously, Nate," Quinn's measured tone echoed in his earpiece as he sat calmly on the rough dungeon floor, his eyes fixed on the holographic interface projected in front of him. "The refresh rate of these monsters is way too slow. We could have hit a higher-level dungeon by now."

Nate grinned at the remark, his focus never wavering from the task at hand. "I did try pushing to the border, but as soon as I reached it, the corridor locked down. It seems like the system is just waiting for me to upgrade first." Nate's internal monologue continued as he studied his three-dimensional avatar on the interface—each detail of his posture, stance, and aiming technique was analyzed by the system's advanced algorithms. According to the digital readout, one hundred experience points were needed for his next level, and every monster downed—whether by his own hand or those dispatched by his partner's mind-controlled summons—awarded him exactly one point.

Currently, he was only six points away from reaching level two. Nate had spent countless minutes experimenting; whether a mob was killed by the "slave" creatures conjured by the system or by his own precision shots, the experience gain was identical. However, Quinn Maxwell's progress wasn't marked by these simple experience points. Quinn required primary strengthening stones dropped by the defeated foes, and the upgrade process for him was entirely different: he needed to collect a specific amount of these stones, consuming precious mana in the process. Ten primary strengthening stones drained a bit of his mana, and while Nate had a full reserve of ten mana units himself, Quinn's progression from level one to level two required a staggering 150 primary strengthening stones.

In other words, even if the dungeon was chock-full of "dog food" monsters and the drops were nearly 100% guaranteed, the magic—no, the energy—that powered their upgrades was in short supply. Yet, despite the challenges, Nate took solace in the steady progress he was making. His focus was now on that final experience point.

Narrowing his eyes, Nate aimed his pistol at a mob that stood rigidly, its mind power fixed at five meters away. With a smooth squeeze of the trigger, the shot rang out—a perfect "boom!" echoing through the ancient stone corridors. In an instant, a clear, radiant stream of energy surged into his body. Nate felt an unmistakable lightness, as if every fiber of his being had been enhanced by the energy that now pulsed through his veins. He flexed his arms experimentally, noting with satisfaction that his strength had noticeably improved. Even though the system's interface lacked any specific physical fitness readout, Nate was eager to test his new capabilities in the near future.

Almost as if on cue, the system notified him that all his mana had been fully restored—and, even more impressively, that his mana capacity had increased from ten to fifteen. Moreover, the central hub of the dungeon, previously just labeled "Dungeon," had now evolved into "Dungeon 1 – 5th Floor," signaling that a new level of challenge and opportunity was at hand.

Just as Nate began to revel in his upgrade, Quinn Maxwell's voice cut through the comm channel with a hint of excitement and mischief. "This—this is unbelievable," Quinn exclaimed, as he single-handedly dispatched a horde of monsters with his newly honed mental control. Every creature that crossed his mental field was quickly pinched into submission and obliterated, leaving behind only the remnants of their digital essence.

Suddenly, voices from a nearby back passage broke the tension. A small group, clad in armor and brandishing an assortment of weapons, emerged. Their conversation was conducted in a language unfamiliar at first, but to Nate and Quinn it somehow made perfect sense—these were not ordinary words but coded signals exchanged among seasoned dungeon adventurers. One of the figures, a brawny man sporting cat-like ears on his helmet, remarked, "Has this sector of the earth spirit been cleared already?"

A second voice replied, "Quiet now. It's an advanced adventurer escorting newcomers. We'll move on." The group prepared to depart, their words punctuating the eerie silence that had descended over the dungeon. Nate, ever the inquisitive agent, couldn't help but call out, "Which family are you from?" The brawny man paused and responded confidently, "Minos family, my lord." Nate offered a friendly smile, replying, "Your tone tells me that this is indeed a story world unlike any other."

Once the newcomers had moved on, Quinn's mental voice resonated softly in Nate's mind: "That's right." Nate nodded, the weight of his journey settling in his bones. He was beginning to piece together the architecture of this digital world. The dungeon wasn't merely a random set of corridors—it was a meticulously crafted copy of a fantasy realm, much like those seen in high-end animation series such as Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? Yet, this version was even stranger: a blend of technology and magic that only a select few could comprehend.

"Let's move," Nate declared. "Our hunting range has just increased, and we still have half an hour before the instance resets." The urgency in his voice was tempered by excitement—a mixture of adrenaline and the thrill of discovery. He knew that his priority now was to strengthen himself as rapidly as possible. The clock was ticking, and every second could mean the difference between victory and disaster.

Within thirty minutes, Nate and Quinn found themselves emerging back into the familiar urban jungle of Manhattan. Unlike their previous forays into the hidden layers of reality, the city streets were subject to their own bizarre protective measures. Though they moved visibly among the crowd, their presence did not spark the same level of chaos as Quinn's earlier, more flamboyant displays had. Instead, the pair blended in with a practiced ease, a quiet testament to their advanced abilities.

As they strolled along the busy sidewalks, the bond between them was palpable—an unspoken excitement glimmered in their eyes. In just half an hour, Nate had leaped from level two to level four, his progress nearly exponential. Quinn, with his relentless drive, had swept through half of the hunting map, collecting not only valuable experience but also the coveted fortified stones dropped by the dungeon's inhabitants. Onlookers—other adventurers who had once been fierce competitors—now gaped in disbelief. They couldn't fathom how a pair of operatives, previously thought to be mere novices, could now wield such overwhelming power. It was as if the established order had been upended before their very eyes.

In the midst of their triumph, Nate recalled the most important prize of all: the summoning stone. The system had a strict refresh policy—once every day at midnight, an advanced summoning stone would be automatically granted to those who had completed the dungeon's trials. This stone was the key to unlocking even more advanced abilities, and Nate was determined to secure it for his team.

"Quinn," Nate said, turning to his partner with an authoritative tone, "why don't you head back for now? The summons will bring you back to our original position once our contract is established. I can call you out at any time."

Quinn's mental voice replied nonchalantly, "It's all good. I'll return to our home base; my energy will be restored, and time will reset to my last checkpoint." Their synergy was seamless—a well-oiled partnership that had been honed over countless missions.

Before Nate could respond further, a sudden, harsh screech of tires split the air. An ambulance, its siren wailing, careened wildly off the main road and veered into the area where the duo stood. Pedestrians scattered, and alarmed voices filled the air. The ambulance, however, did not crash into a solid object but into a soft, shimmering protective shield of psychic energy that Nate had inadvertently generated—a manifestation of the mind's power in this strange world.

"Accident?" Nate mused aloud, his voice laced with surprise. He had never witnessed an actual vehicular accident in his career; his experience had always been confined to covert operations and controlled environments. Now, it seemed that fate had thrown him into a scene that defied conventional logic.

Quinn's voice resonated once more in Nate's mind: "It's no accident." In the blink of an eye, the ambulance—along with the attention it had drawn from the nearby crowd—disappeared as if swallowed by the digital ether. Meanwhile, on the rooftop of a high-rise hotel some 800 meters away, a casually dressed man was hurriedly packing up his gear. He had with him a spear, a sniper lens, and even a compact tracheal device—tools that hinted at his own involvement in this clandestine, multilayered operation.

The man muttered under his breath, "Smart tactic… using an air gun to shoot glass shards into tires so it looks like a flat tire caused the accident." His thoughts were interrupted as he heard a sharp report of gunfire from within his secure room. Reflexively, he sprang to his feet, drawing his sidearm and firing wildly at the intruder who had just materialized. Yet, despite his barrage, every bullet seemed to miss its mark, swirling harmlessly around Quinn's protective aura.

With a casual flick of his finger, Quinn effortlessly deflected the incoming fire. "This is a world painted with an entirely different brush," Quinn observed, his gaze narrowing. "You dare to attack my friend? You're not getting away with this."

The man sneered—a bitter, venomous smile that hinted at treachery. "Cut off one head and two more shall rise," he taunted, echoing the ancient adage of the Hydra. As the deadly poison, which he had concealed within his own body, began to spread rapidly, his vision blurred and the edges of his world darkened.

But then, in a dramatic twist that defied the laws of both physics and fate, time itself seemed to rewind. Quinn's palm glowed with a fierce, otherworldly light, and in that brief, heart-stopping moment the man's body was thrown back a full ten minutes. It was a dangerous ability indeed—one that hovered on the razor's edge between salvation and catastrophe. Though it offered a temporary reprieve, it was clear that such power could not truly resurrect the dead.

Frantically, Quinn used his mental prowess to extract the toxic venom from the man's mouth, his brow furrowing as he fought against forces that were alien even to him. This was not his world—rules he had come to rely on were rapidly shifting. He knew that if he teleported back with the poisoned man in tow, it would likely alert unwanted attention from both enemy operatives and the civilians unwittingly caught in this chaotic web.

Nate, standing a few paces away, felt the pressure mounting. The situation was spiraling into dangerous territory on multiple fronts. His instincts as a trained agent told him that every second counted. The upgrade was nearly complete, but the threats—from rogue adventurers to devious, high-tech assassins—were closing in fast.

Drawing a deep breath, Nate steadied his aim and checked his ammunition. "Quinn," he called, voice low but determined, "we need to wrap this up. Get ready for extraction—whatever it takes, we must secure this area and complete our upgrade. I'm not letting anyone jeopardize what we've built here."

As the last echoes of the confrontation faded into the pulsating hum of the dungeon's core, Nate Locke and Quinn Maxwell prepared to press forward into the next stage of their surreal expedition. In a world where magic and technology intertwined, where every moment was a test of wits, strength, and unyielding resolve, these two operatives had forged an unbreakable bond. And with each upgrade, each new ability unlocked, they edged ever closer to the truth hidden behind the façade of this labyrinthine domain.

Their mission was far from over. With half an hour remaining on the instance timer, Nate's mind raced with strategies for the upcoming onslaught—a final push to secure the advanced summoning stone and unlock the next echelon of power. In the twilight zone between reality and simulation, every upgrade was not just a step toward victory but a leap into the unknown, where the lines between friend and foe blurred into a haze of digital shadows.

And so, as the city of Manhattan hummed obliviously above, the battle in the depths of the dungeon raged on—a testament to the relentless drive of Nate Locke and Quinn Maxwell, whose courage and determination were as formidable as the forces they faced. In this strange, ever-shifting world of upgrade and attack, every bullet fired, every enemy defeated, and every mysterious power unlocked brought them one step closer to mastering their destiny—and perhaps, changing the very fabric of their reality.