Dungeon Resex: Chapter 3

A few days passed. **** was alive. Deep in the pit, hidden in the shadows, **** had set up shop and was taking his time, thoughtfully chewing on a strip of smoked meat.

He swallowed a piece before ripping off another strip from the piece he held. The smoked strips of jerky that he made by butchering the creatures found in the dungeon were properly delicious if you took your time to soften them up first.

**** licked his fingers after finishing the piece of jerky, finishing his meal with a swig of water from his canteen. With a deep sigh, he settled into the cozy little corner he made for himself over the past few days, resting his back against the cold stone walls.

A full stomach helped him relax and think clearly. He wasn't quite as anxious as he had been a few days ago. He had realized something while being stuck in the pitfall trap.

'Have I ever been this safe since being pulled into the Dungeon?'

Every moment on the surface was a fight for survival. Monsters that attacked from the shadows, traps that would maim or kill you in an instant if you dropped your guard or stumbled into one by mistake while running from a creature. And eventually other humans. People who decided that it's easier to hunt other survivors for resources than brave the wilds, fighting monsters and foraging for food.

They killed each other for food, items... some were just broken, homicidal maniacs that snapped and went insane, killing people for entertainment, or to eat them.

But now? He was safe. He had supplies. Food and water. And there were no monsters in sight.

**** smiled ruefully, taking note of the irony of the situation.

'I never thought being a support-class player would pay off this way.'

Most of the survivor groups divided the players into two categories. Combat-Specialists and Support. **** was the latter. His only skill being 'purification', which had a number of uses outside of combat, but was useless when it came to fighting the unnatural creatures and monsters that littered the Dungeon.

<Skill>

Purification (Beginner: Level 7)

-Purify the unclean.

The Purification skill was able to remove toxins and pathogens, and even parasites from the meat of the various Dungeon creatures that the survivors hunted. That was ****'s main task.

His job was to prep and store supplies for the group. After the battle group finished their hunt, **** would step up to butcher the carcasses and purify the meat so that the party could have a safe food supply that they could rely on.

His inventory was always full of supplies for his group members. Even now, alone, deep inside this pit.

The bunny wanted him to starve to ****, but honestly he was more concerned about his fellow survivors that had moved onto Stage 2 without him.

'I wonder if they're doing okay. Most of the food is in my inventory except for some emergency supplies each one of them would have been carrying.'

As his thoughts turned to his party-mates, he couldn't help but think of Ryu. The leader of his group.

"Ryu-Hyung**"

One armed Ryu. **** owed his life to the leader of his group. Unlike ****, who possessed a single support skill unsuited to combat, Ryu had no less than five skills. Having acquired multiple skills over the course of the month, fighting nonstop harrowing battles against the ever present dangers of the Dungeon.

[I've seen countless survivors over the years as a Guide, but you are truly a different breed, Ryu.]

Even the bunny was impressed at Ryu's combat prowess.

He could split wind and stone, crushing monsters with ease that other survivors would struggle to stay alive against. An invincible whirlwind in battle. Even missing an arm, he was the indisputable leader, and the most capable warrior of his group.

But he wasn't always missing an arm.

About two weeks after the game started, he lost his arm saving **** during a mission.

"Ryu-Hyung... no, no, no."

"Hey, don't worry about it, bud. I wasn't paying attention. It was my fault. It's fine. Can you do me a favor and cast purify on this though so it doesn't get infected?"

Even with his face pale from bloodloss, Ryu had comforted **** with a warm smile. It was an accident. It hadn't been ****'s fault. But from that moment on, **** couldn't help but feel indebted to Ryu and his teammates.

"Haha. I told you to stop feeling guilty. I'm right handed. I weigh less so I can move even faster now, see?"

Even after losing an arm, Ryu didn't change one iota. He always had a warm smile on his face for his teammates and put them before himself. But thankfully, when the stage was cleared, the Complete Restoration that brought **** back from the brink of **** had also restored Ryu's missing arm.

[Oooh~ Ryu! You look much better now that you have two arms again! Anyway, hurry now! Let’s move on to the next stage!]

**** remembered the bunny guide's words and thanked the stars for what little good fortune they had.

The weight on his shoulders felt a little lighter knowing that Ryu had both of his arms again. And in place of the guilt, gratitude welled up instead.

To Ryu and the rest of his teammates that protected him and kept him safe, even though he was useless in combat. Most of the other support players were not so lucky. In a world with no laws and rules to speak of, strength was everything. And the support-class players without combat skills were systemically victimized by those who had skills that enhanced their combat abilities.

'Thank you, everyone. Please survive. Until we meet again.'

**** grit his teeth in determination as he rose to his feet.

"From now on, I'll try to survive even without you. Thank you for getting me this far. I'll live. I'll do my best to survive, no matter what!"

**** didn't realize that what he just swore to do was exactly what the bunny guide had asked of everyone at the start of the Dungeon. But it was time to get to work.

***

'I don't care how safe this place is. I can't live here forever.'

He didn't have to worry about it right this moment, but the food and water he had still would eventually run out. He had to find a way out of the pit sooner or later.

And like the bunny said, it wouldn't be easy to escape the pitfall.

'Three possible ways to do this.'

**** glanced up towards the narrow circle of light above where he could still see the opening of the trap.

Method one. Climbing.

This was a nonstarter. The general shape of the trap was that of a long stone cylinder. The entire wall of the well was formed of flat, wide stone bricks that were perfectly fitted against each other, with tiny little seams that didn't have enough purchase for **** to grip on his way up. The width was too wide for him to try to use friction to climb it over time, and even if it wasn't, the slick moss covering the stone wouldn't allow him to climb for long.

Not to mention that if he ever fell, the metal spikes underneath would surely spell certain ****.

He tried to see if there was any way he might be able to climb to the surface, but eventually had to give up on the idea.

'So if I want to get out that way, I will need to find someone to help me.'

Method two. Wait for rescue.

The bunny guide had told him to commit suicide so he wouldn't bother anyone else.

This method at least had a chance of succeeding. Other players would likely be entering the game soon, if they hadn't already. He hadn't heard the bunny guide's voice in a few days, but chances were that was because the bunny had blocked transmission of his announcements to ****, or him not being in the system anymore made it so that it wasn't possible for him to hear announcements made using the Dungeon system.

Whatever the case may be, a new batch of players would eventually make their way towards the final ruins where **** was trapped. If he waited for about a month, he would eventually run into a new group of survivors.

'I could just ask them to rescue me from this pitfall when they get here. And perhaps I'll be able to rejoin my original group when I reach the second stage.'

**** sighed to himself when he realized how unlikely the idea would work out in his favor though.

He knew perfectly well what the other groups that had been competing against his had been like.

'The chances are they will be a group of player-killers, or a group thinking I'm a part of a trap and killing me, or leaving me here out of caution. Either way, I'll probably be dead or right back where I started.

Not all player groups were full of heartless murderers. Once in a blue moon, there were groups like his own. But this was a world where even good people were driven to kill others if necessary. Hoping to run into the one group that was kind and naive enough to take him in was asking for too much.

Method three.

"That means there really is no other way..."

**** looked down at the floor of the trap and sighed in dejection.

Unscalable stone walls. But the floor? It was made of dirt. Dirt that he could dig through if necessary.

If he couldn't escape by going up, he would dig down instead.

The idea was simple enough. He would dig down first, and turn around once he'd cleared the wall and dig upwards until he managed to reach the surface. But this method also had its own limitations.

'I need to finish it within a month. Any longer than that, the dungeon will reset and any progress I made will disappear. If I'm unlucky, I might get caught underground and suffocate when the tunnels fill back in.'

It wouldn't be easy. But it was definitely worth trying. All he had was time, and he had plenty of food and water to make the attempt. There really was only one problem.

He didn't have a shovel.

**** checked his inventory, but already knew he didn't have anything that could potentially be used as one. He had a few knives but they were wholly unsuited to the task. He was wondering if he would have to make a go at it with his bare hands, but looking around, his gaze rested on the iron spikes that had almost killed him a few days ago.

"Wait a second. Yes! This is it!"

**** started pulling up the spikes excitedly. Thirty spikes in total. Each one made of solid iron, they were far sturdier and rigid than anything else he could have used for the task at hand. He hefted one in his hands and tried digging into the earth with it. It wasn't ideal, but he could make progress.

'Hmmm... it's not great, but if I sharpened one end into a flat surface, it might work.'

Beggars couldn't be choosers though. Once he could see the possibility, **** got to work, pulling out a whetstone from his inventory. He started sharpening the end of one of the spikes into a flat end.

Thankfully, he had some practice doing similar work supporting his group of survivors. Whenever they were at camp, he would sharpen their blades for them. He quickly built up speed, grinding down the iron spike until one end was fashioned into a flat blade. He tested the makeshift shovel, and it already worked better than it had previously.

He knew the shovel would be worn down quickly, but he had plenty of whetstones, and iron spikes to spare. As a final touch, he ripped strips of fabric from his shirt, and secured it tightly around the other end of the spike to use as a makeshift handle for friction.

He was ready. It was time to get to work. He felt a moment of anxiety and desperation, thinking of the sheer magnitude of the task ahead of him, but he quickly shook it off, pulling a strip of smoked jerky from his pack and biting down.

His salivary glands activated, a burst of endorphins flooded his body as he bit down on the savory meat.

He felt calm again. Meat was life.

"Okay, lets go."

He thrust his shovel into the ground in front of him. The iron spikes that almost took his life would now forge a path for his survival. The goal was to create a sloping path back towards the surface.

[LEGEND]

-Hyung: A Korean term/honorific denoting respect and familiarity for a male that's slightly older than yourself. Literally translates to 'older brother', but can be used and often is for upper-classmen or acquaintances that you are familiar with.