Vol 3 Chapter 13 – “A Solo Challenge and a Decision”【Vol 3 – Graduating High School and Taking On the Dungeon 】

Day one in the Stamina-type Shinjuku Dungeon — final count: thirty-five kills.

Thirty-five magic stones. Three hundred and fifty yen.

I handed the stones over at the reception desk and got a card in return. All future earnings would load onto it, apparently. I ran it through one of the ATM-style machines — and sure enough, ¥350 showed up on the screen.

…Three hundred and fifty yen. After all of that.

I’d known going in that the money wasn’t going to be there at the start. But knowing it and living it were different things. This was brutal.

At this pace — leveling up? Grinding ten thousand kills for the trick to work? How many days was that going to take? Was it even possible?

Ten thousand kills within a year. The conditions for the trick were merciless.

If I were actually going to hit that number, I’d have to show up every single day without exception at my current rate.

And the physical toll was already real.

I was in decent shape from hauling freight and warehouse work, which helped — but I was already wrecked after just one session. The thought of the overnight shift waiting for me after this was almost too much to look at directly.

Before anything else, I needed to find a more efficient way to hunt. At this rate, my spirit was going to give out before my body did. There had to be a better method.

Even so —

I’d made my decision.

One year. Just one year. I was going to see it through.

That evening, Hiyori came over again and made dinner. The four of us around the table, same as always — her food was as reliably good as ever.

“Thirty-five?!”

When I told her the day’s results, her eyes went wide. Apparently, the average beginner cleared maybe ten monsters on their first day.

“And you did that without joining a grass clan? That’s… genuinely impressive, Ren.”

Grass clans — independent Hunter groups formed by people who hadn’t made it into the conglomerate pipeline. Most newcomers joined one before doing anything else.

“But I think you should join one,” Hiyori said, and her voice had shifted into something more serious. “Flying solo makes you a target. People might mess with you. And if something goes wrong inside a Dungeon, there’s no one to pull you out.”

I shook my head.

“I’m keeping my margins safe. And a clan comes with strings attached — it doesn’t fit what I’m trying to do. I’m going solo.”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“…Yeah. You never did budge once you made up your mind.” She paused. “But realistically, Ren — at this pace, there’s no guarantee you’ll even hit one level up in a year. And today’s take was a few hundred yen after hours of work. You’re operating at a loss. Can you actually keep this up for twelve months?”

“You’re not wrong. But there’s something I want to test.”

“Of course — do it your way. But I still think a grass clan is worth considering. And they’re not all the same — some have bad reputations, so if you ever do decide to look into it, talk to me first.”

Something in my chest went warm at that.

My challenge was just getting started.

I had no idea what was coming —

But would I still be able to smile a year from now?

Vol 3 Chapter 14 – “Clan Recruitment”【Vol 3 – Graduating High School and Taking On the Dungeon 】

The first thing I did was lock in a daily schedule.

• • ~12:00 PM – ~6:00 PM: Dungeon

• • ~6:00 PM – ~8:00 PM: Dinner (prep included on days Hiyori doesn’t come)

• • 9:00 PM – ~5:00 AM: Overnight shift

• • 6:00 AM – 8:00 AM: Make breakfast, get my brother and sister out the door

• • ~8:00 AM – ~11:30 AM: Sleep

Three to four hours of sleep a night.

My body and mind were running right at the edge. But this was all I had. This was the cycle I was going to live in, at least for now.

And somehow — I made it through a week.

My efficiency hadn’t improved much, but my body was starting to adapt. Daily kill count climbed to fifty.

Total for the first week: two hundred and eighty kills. Magic stones converted to ¥2,800.

One week. Twenty-eight hundred yen.

No. I wasn’t going to think about the money. That was a good “road to nowhere.” Money came from the part-time job. The Dungeon was for something else.

At this rate, I was barely clearing a thousand kills a month. Ten thousand in a year was going to be razor-thin. Still a number so far away it made my head swim.

Okay. One month. Just focus on making it one month.

Then one day, on my way out of the Dungeon, two guys stepped into my path.

“You’ve figured out by now that going solo has a ceiling, right? Join our clan.”

It’s the first time we’ve ever spoken, and he’s already giving me orders.

“Not interested,” I said.

The guy’s expression curdled. He glared at me.

“The hell kind of attitude is that? We went out of our way to invite you!”

Great. Are they going to make this a thing? I braced myself —

And then a low voice came from somewhere behind me.

“…What are you two doing?”

I turned around.

Standing there was a man with a scar across his face and a look in his eyes that made the air around him feel heavier. The kind of person who, in any reasonable assessment of the situation, you would describe as —

A yakuza member. Yes. Definitely a yakuza member.

Those eyes locked onto me.

This is it. This is how my story ends. I had a younger brother and a younger sister at home, so I was really hoping for some leniency here, but I wasn’t optimistic.

The moment that thought crossed my mind, the two guys from before went sheet-white and bolted.

“Oh hell — it’s Kurosawa-san, run!”

They were gone before I could process what had happened.

I stood there, completely frozen.

Running right now feels like the wrong move.

Also, those guys talked to me first and then immediately abandoned me to whatever this is. Unbelievable.

The scarred man and another, younger guy approached slowly.

I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I’m very sorry. Please don’t take my organs. And I’d also prefer not to end up on a tuna fishing boat. I still have Hunter work I’m trying to accomplish.”

The man stared at me.

“…What are you talking about? You think I’m yakuza?”

“BWAHAHAHAHA! Kurosawa-san, they mistook you for yakuza again! It’s the face, man, I keep telling you — you’ve got serious intimidation face going on!”

“Damn it, how does someone this kind keep getting mistaken for — you know what, forget it.”

…This conversation is very confusing. Maybe he wasn’t actually yakuza? Had I somehow come out of this okay?

“My name is Kurosawa Ryuichi. Leader of the clan Fang of Dawn. This is my guy, Tajima Shota.”

He looked at me directly.

“I’ll be straight with you. Any interest in joining our clan?”

Out of the frying pan.

Another clan invitation?!

I honestly didn’t know what to do with this.