Chapter 37

The dungeon is a calamity, yet it is also a source of abundance. It has spawned countless monsters and killed many people, living up to its name as a disaster.

However, the dungeon is also a source of abundance.

Why is this so? There are several reasons.

First, countries are preoccupied with dealing with dungeons, which prevents full-scale wars from breaking out. In modern times, if a full-scale war were to occur, dungeons would continue to multiply during the conflict, and many monsters would roam, turning habitable areas into uninhabitable wastelands or requiring significant sacrifices to eliminate them.

In the past, attempts to unify the continent were ultimately just battles of swords and magic, with few mages clashing in proxy wars.

However, after the Industrial Revolution, ordinary people began to carry guns and use them on the battlefield. Many people died, and in the aftermath of the First World War, where vast regions were dominated by monsters, causing enormous losses, humanity realized the folly of full-scale wars.

Thus, while peace was not fully achieved, wars ended with mages fighting proxy wars, aiming to minimize damage.

Second, the existence of monsters has led to the dominance of mages, reducing internal conflicts and political instability. At least, the frequent changes in policy with each change in government have ceased. Whether this is good or bad is debatable, but for now, the balance seems to be tipping in a positive direction.

Third, and perhaps most obviously, the materials from monsters. Especially the magic stones, which are used as a universal energy source. From electricity, gas, water, and so on, to small machines and large machinery, from small houses to towering skyscrapers.

Monster materials are also valuable. When mixed with cement, they increase hardness. When spread on fields, they eliminate crop rotation problems. There are special monster feathers that prevent plane crashes and monster scales that reduce water resistance, making travel faster.

The world has been killed by many people due to monsters. However, the presence of dungeons, the power and materials of monsters, have led to significant prosperity.

The Japanese Magic Empire also enjoys this prosperity. A population of 200 million is proof of this. Many children are born, and the country continues to develop. There are no abandoned villages or aging societies because there are more children being born.

However, the brighter the light of prosperity, the darker the shadow, and it emits a putrid odor like a bottomless swamp.

Groups in the slums manage dungeons secretly for the state.

"Hey, move it, you brats!"

In a warehouse shaped like a kamaboko (fish cake), a middle-aged man gripped a chain and shouted at the children, who ranged from 12 to 5 years old. Their ages varied, but their treatment was the same.

They were dressed in rags, dirty and torn, with iron collars and chains. The man pulled the chains, making them clank and rattle, and shouted to instill fear. The children huddled together, trembling.

Occasionally, he would deliberately pull the chains, causing children to fall, and he would vent his frustrations. He was clearly a man of bad character.

"You're like tangerines. You need to be sold before you rot."

He led the children to the entrance of the dungeon, which opened wide, and began to speak in a serious tone. His companions laughed and jeered, saying, "Here we go again."

The children, trembling with fear, looked at the man, who, feeling superior, continued.

"First, I'll tell you your position. You are adventurers. Elite adventurers who became adventurers at such a young age. You are honored members of the adventurer guild we run."

Of course, it wasn't a real adventurer guild, but the man said this and slammed the chain on the floor.

"Isn't that great? Clap, clap!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Clap..."

"Yay..."

Seeing the man's fierce face, the children, on the verge of tears, clapped hesitantly. The applause was sparse, and the man snorted in disappointment.

"You, honored adventurers, will now enter the dungeon. Your weapons are these."

His subordinates brought belts and began to tie them around the children's waists.

"Um, what are these?"

The oldest boy raised his hand and asked timidly, trying to suppress his fear. The man didn't get angry but smiled and pointed.

"These are the venom of the Venom Viper. You will use this poison to defeat the Mithril Eater deep in the dungeon."

The boy, puzzled by the man's theatrical performance, asked more questions. The poison was attached to their waists, and the needles couldn't be removed. Even if they tried to throw them, the belts were too tight.

But the boy's questions were answered in the worst possible way.

"You'll be eaten. The Mithril Eater will take damage from the inside. We'll finish it off when it's weakened."

"Wh-what..."

For a moment, the boys didn't understand. But seeing the man's sinister smile, they realized it wasn't a joke and their faces turned pale.

"That's not true! We'll die!"

"Of course, you will die!"

"Ow!"

The boy tried to confront the man but was kicked like a soccer ball, rolling on the concrete floor.

Laughing at the scene, the man continued.

"So, let's go back to what I said earlier. To survive, you need to be bought by a customer. Otherwise, you'll rot like a tangerine. Do you know what you need to do to escape?"

Looking at the children, the man smirked and revealed the worst method.

"Sacrifice the others. Our mana isn't infinite. If you defeat a certain number, you can return. Then the survivors will be saved."

The man, with no trace of guilt, told the children this demonic choice. He was only interested in their despair and the ugly struggles that would ensue.

Of course, it was a lie. The men had no intention of returning until they had used all the children. They wanted to see the children's faces when they realized there was only despair.

The man, with a wicked character, continued to pressure them.

"The surest way is to awaken to 'Mana.' If you awaken to 'Mana' and defeat a monster in one hit, you'll be one of us! I awakened to 'Mana,' defeated a monster in one hit, and now I'm the supervisor here. I have no worries about money or women. You should aim for that."

He spoke as if offering hope, but it was a lie. The man was from a noble family and had been disowned for his reckless behavior, but he was still a mage. He had risen in the slums using his power.

He knew the children had no chance of awakening to 'Mana.' They were pure-blooded commoners, taken as debts or bought from the poor. They were too small to be swallowed whole by the Mithril Eater.

He planned to laugh at their futile efforts to awaken to 'Mana' before being swallowed by the Mithril Eater.

"Brother... They're a bit pitiful. Maybe it's better not to give them any hope."

"Shut up."

His subordinate, feeling pity, interjected, but the man, uninterested, waved his hand.

"Storm Wind Blade"

"Ah!"

Several materialized wind blades were released from his arm, growing and transforming into guillotine-like blades. They sliced through the subordinate's body, turning him into meat pieces that rolled across the floor. Those without magic power had no resistance and were easily cut down, as his subordinate's death proved.

"Who do you think you are to interfere with my fun? What a boring thing to say. You're ruining the mood."

The severed head rolled, and blood pooled around the meat pieces. The man, far from being concerned, kicked the head away in disgust.

His subordinates stopped laughing and fell silent. The other mages were speechless at his madness.

The children, trembling, were now pale with fear. They were so terrified they could barely stand.

The man, seeing this, smirked. If he was feared and respected, he would be treated better by his superiors.

In the underworld, a powerful and dangerous man was someone to be kept close. The man had no intention of remaining a dungeon manager.

So, for practical reasons, he tormented the children and demonstrated his strength. Subordinates without magic power were useless and only good for his own score.

What he needed were mages. To rise, he planned to do so through madness and death, not through honesty.

Most of all, it was fun. The pleasure was irreplaceable, and the man, with a mad grin, laughed.

"Alright, you'll go in as elite adventurers. Don't worry, I'll protect you until the Mithril Eater appears. After that, it's up to your luck and strength."

Some children, curled up in fear, couldn't move, but the man, ignoring them, pulled the chains with force. The children were dragged by the man's enhanced strength.

"It's fine. A future of wealth awaits you. A dream path lies ahead. Go forward with joy."

Laughing at the children's cries as if they were a pleasant song, the man stepped towards the dungeon entrance.

"You go in."

He was hit with a strong impact on his back and rolled across the floor.

"What? What happened? Who are you?"

Struggling to stand, the man saw a robed figure with a leg extended. The face was hidden under a hood, a mask, and sunglasses, but the figure was small, like a child.

"You're the first I've seen with such a rotten soul."

The voice, trembling with anger, was beautiful like a bell, clearly a girl's. She was radiating anger.

"Tsk. Aren't you a bit premature?"

A ragged old man appeared beside her, laughing.

"Are you from another territory? Do you know us?"

Clearly, they were mages, and the man, wary, summoned mana into his body, which flowed into his clothes, transforming them into chainmail and enveloping him in a blue-white aura.

"Who are you? Are you the boss of the slums?"

"Hah! If you're just a cannon fodder, you wouldn't know. We are the 'Chimera'! The group that controls this area, making even crying children silent! I'm Goathead!"

"Chimera, huh. So, you're monsters. Decision made, let's take you down quickly."

"Interesting, let's see what you've got!"

Goathead, eager to earn merit, activated his mana.