Chapter 15: Grand Opening

Three days had passed, and the first level of the dungeon had undergone a significant metamorphosis under the meticulous guidance of Karl and the relentless efficiency of his skeleton architects.

Every room, with the sole exception of the Metallurgy Center, now boasted sturdy, newly installed wooden doors, their hinges silently swinging, promising security and privacy. The architects, with a surprising artistic flair, had carved intricate, swirling patterns into the stone walls, motifs that blended ancient dungeon aesthetics with subtle, almost gothic, elegance. Stone potted plants, filled with patches of vibrant moss, now stood proudly on every column, particularly noticeable in the canteen and the quiet solitude of the guest rooms. The rough, uneven stone floors from the dungeon entrance, once unforgiving underfoot, had been meticulously replaced with ornate, polished stone tiles, reflecting the ambient light with a soft sheen, guiding the eye and drawing visitors inward.

The architects truly outdid themselves, Karl thought, a dry, internal hum of satisfaction resonating through his bones. T

his is more than just functional; it's… aesthetically pleasing. A touch of class for the dungeon. These doors, too, will be crucial for containment, should the mana levels get too high, trapping any unwelcome guests or, more importantly, ensuring my paying customers feel secure.

The left section hallway, where the trading stalls are located, had also been transformed. Its walls were now smoothly planed, the rough chisel marks vanished, and the lighting had been enhanced, bathing the displays in a soft, inviting glow.

It's inviting, certainly, but it still lacks that certain… marketing pizazz. No banners, no flashing signs, no garish advertisements yet. Just the raw, undeniable quality of my future products, presented cleanly. Word of mouth will have to do for now, but I'll need to invest in proper branding and visual merchandising later. Subtlety only gets you so far in a competitive market.

Even the outside of the dungeon had been meticulously landscaped. The rugged, uninviting mountain entrance had been softened with carefully placed stones and cleared pathways, a deliberate effort to make it as welcoming as possible. A prominent, newly carved stone stele, bearing the clear, stylized icon of an inn—a tankard beside a bed—stood proudly near the entrance. It was the first official "banner" erected, a declaration of intent.

First impressions count, even for a dungeon, Karl mused, observing the transformation from afar. This makes us look less like a forgotten crypt and more like a… well, a legitimate business establishment. The inn sign is a beacon. A promise of shelter and, eventually, commerce. A safe haven in a dangerous world, for a price.

Beneath the polished facade on the second deepest level, the heavy sounds of construction had given way to an eerie silence. Karl had swiftly built the barracks, a stark, functional space designed solely for the creation and housing of his future security force. Its stone walls were unadorned, its purpose clear: efficiency in training.

A dedicated space for my future security force, he thought, pacing its empty halls. Essential for training and housing. No more idle skeletons just standing around. Every resource must have a purpose, and protection is now paramount, especially with the Dungeon Core's peculiar mana-attracting properties.

He assigned his two remaining specialized skeletons, the ones previously left unassigned, to their new, vital roles. One, a formidable figure with a stern, imposing presence, its bones thick and unyielding, became a [ Level 10 Training Instructor ] for the new Boneforge Barracks. It was the perfect choice to instill discipline and combat prowess into his basic skeleton recruits. The other, a hulking, broad-shouldered skeleton, was designated a

[ Level 10 Bouncer ] for first-level floor patrol and security. Its very posture suggested an unwillingness to tolerate disorder.

A training instructor will ensure my basic skeletons become effective guards, disciplined and capable, not just cannon fodder to be easily overwhelmed. They'll be a proper force. And a bouncer… a visible deterrent, a symbol of order right at the entrance, or wherever needed. Someone to ensure decorum and, if necessary, provide a forceful 'welcome' to any unwelcome guests. The mana in the dungeon is rising, I can feel it, a subtle hum in the air, and with it, the likelihood of attracting something nasty. I need a robust defense, layered and strategic, to protect my assets and my burgeoning customer base.

The kobold refugees, now his living employees, had been comfortably resettled in their own dedicated Living Employees quarters. This new, wider room on the first floor now boasted rows of newly built bunk beds, each with its own small wooden storage chest and a small drawer beside it for personal belongings. Small, animal fur mats lay beside each bed, and a faint, comforting scent of roasted meat from the canteen, still lingered in the air.

The rough edges of their initial fear had softened, replaced by a cautious contentment that was visible in their relaxed postures and quieter chatter. The children of these living employees were playing inside, their small voices a new, lively sound in the dungeon. The artisan had even made carved wooden toys and figurines, as well as puzzle toys and a chess set, just to keep them occupied and entertained.

The once temporary guest room, where the kobolds had initially huddled, was now transformed into a new, proper Guest Room for visitors. Bunk beds now stood within its walls, and storage chests and small drawers were installed beside every bed. Though it was still a shared space, it was far less of a bare stone room and more of a welcoming guest room for tired travelers, offering a comfortable, if communal, place to rest – though they still needed to pay to do so.

More comfortable living conditions, Karl noted, observing their quiet settling. It's not just about productivity; it's about retention. A happy workforce is a loyal workforce, even if they're still a bit wary of their undead overlord. Long-term investment in human resources, even non-human ones, always pays dividends in stability and output.

In the canteen, a surprising transformation had occurred. Some of the female kobold refugees, initially shy and hesitant, were now actively working alongside the Chef skeleton. They moved with a growing confidence, their small hands efficiently scrubbing wooden plates, their voices a low murmur as they took on roles as dishwashers and waitresses. Others, with a newfound curiosity, even ventured into the kitchen, cautiously assisting the Chef and the skeleton assistants, learning to prepare the simple but hearty fare.

Surprisingly, they seem to genuinely like the Chef. Perhaps it's his consistent culinary skill, the comforting aroma of his cooking, or simply the stability and warmth he offers, a stark contrast to the harsh world outside. This is excellent. Organic integration, expanding the workforce without direct mana expenditure. They're contributing, earning their keep, and building a sense of belonging, a stake in this venture. It's a symbiotic relationship, precisely as intended.

Karl observed them from the doorway, the quiet bustle of the canteen, the steady hum of the workshops, the methodical clanging from the Metallurgy Center. A rare, almost content, smile stretched across his skeletal features. Looking at them, seeing the canteen bustling, the workshops humming, the new doors standing firm… everything is falling into place. The pieces are finally aligning. This enterprise, once a mere concept, is breathing, living, growing.

Karl took a sweeping look across the first level of the dungeon, his domain now fully prepared. The ornate floors, gleaming under the ambient light, stretched towards the welcoming trade stalls, their empty shelves awaiting the bounty of his production. The canteen bustled with the quiet industry of its new staff, the aroma of cooked meat a comforting presence. Secure doors guarded every passage, their sturdy wood a silent promise of protection. 2 floors below, the new barracks hummed with the faint, rhythmic sounds of training, a nascent army taking shape. The very air felt charged, expectant, a subtle magical hum that vibrated with the dungeon's growing power.

It's all set, he confirmed, his internal voice calm and decisive. The infrastructure is in place. The workforce is assigned. The initial products are ready. The security measures are active. The dungeon is no longer just a crypt; it's a fully operational enterprise. A new beginning, forged from bone and stone, driven by pure ambition.

A deep sense of satisfaction settled over him, a cold, unwavering resolve that permeated his skeletal frame. It's time. Time to receive customers. Time for the Necro Corp to truly begin its expansion into this world. Let them come. Let the mana flow and attract them. Let the monsters be drawn to this beacon of power. We are ready. The dungeon, his creation, was poised for its grand opening.