Reincarnated as a Dungeon Master, I Became Unstoppable by Doting on My Monsters—My Gorgeous Monsters Have Started to Conquer the World on Their Own!

Two weeks later, I had to open the dungeon. The reason was simple—having 13 monsters in the private room where the Core was located was too painful. Without any Dungeon Points to remodel the space, I was forced to spend my time in that cramped room with the monsters. Their tiny wrists, bugs, and rat-like forms crawling around were delicate during the day, but they gnawed at my soul at night.

And there was another central oversight on my part. These monsters had no sense of “dependence” or “attachment” that normal creatures would have.

While it’s one thing for insects, most mammals born on Earth in my previous life had some function for “dependence.” It’s easier to understand if you think about cows that give birth to many offspring. A child with the ability to be clingy is easier to nurse. After many rounds of this natural selection, the concept of “babies are cute” is generally accepted on Earth.

However, these monsters weren’t born from parents but seemingly out of magical power. It appears they only understand “kill or not kill.” Even after two weeks, there’s no difference in their response to me. Their Intelligence stat is ‘G,’ so the best they can do is distinguish between friend and foe.

Still, as the one who brought these young lives into the world, I talk to and pat them daily.

If that were the only problem, I might not have considered opening the dungeon. I could endure it.

But I had to open the dungeon. The stress on them was building day by day. They were all calm during the first week, but their behavior began to resemble that of stressed animals after that—they started walking in circles or staying in corners.

And finally, I understood. Just like I couldn’t endure the boredom of a year, there was no way these monsters could either. Moreover, according to the initial manual, they could become more robust and innovative if I used the Dungeon Master’s “Monster Enhancement” function.

How could they be happy being told to stay with me until their death within a year when they have such potential?

…I had thought of Monster Create as something like a game. Summon them, and they’d automatically be happy. But of course, each of them has their form of happiness, and they don’t want to die. Why hadn’t I realized something so simple?

“I used to make fun of Dr. Frankenstein, but I’m the bigger idiot.”

I’m reminded of the tragic tale of a genius who created a monster and failed to teach it love, causing untold sorrow. I’m scum. And after much deliberation, I decided to open the dungeon, even if it meant my death.

“Guess I have to take responsibility after all.”

I look behind me, and the monsters wander around in their rooms. However, when I touch the dungeon core, they each seem to take a slight interest in me.

“Dungeon Release.”

The door to the core room opens. From the core room to the dungeon’s entrance is a straight, brick-built corridor about 50 meters long. I wonder if a hall this long is necessary for something to be called a dungeon.

The purpose of this dungeon release is to set the monsters free. Throwing them into the potentially deadly outside world is almost the same as killing them. However, it felt far more humane than keeping them locked up for another year.

I considered regularly running the dungeon, but I quickly remembered that I didn’t have the energy for that. Killing people to earn DP (Dungeon Points) is something I can’t do. There’s no way someone like me, a dead man who can’t even fall in love, should take away from people with families.”

So, after opening the dungeon, I decided to speak to each Monster individually before releasing them.

“Good luck out there.”

Saying this, I let them out into the world. The monsters left the dungeon in a confused manner, one by one. Although they didn’t seem to feel anything about parting ways, it somehow tugged at my heartstrings.

By the way, when I stepped outside the dungeon out of curiosity, all that was there was a forest. Aside from being blinded by the intense sunlight, it looked like any ordinary Earth-like forest. If I were a botanist, I might’ve gleaned some information from it.

Having no interest in the outside world, I decided to lie in the corridor.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been in a dark room for so long, but I could pass the time by looking at the celestial bodies outside the dungeon from the corridor. Occasionally, monsters who shouldn’t have returned would escape jail. At first, I thought there was some secret escape route, but they seemed respawning. In the outside world, humans or monsters are present and keep getting killed.

I checked their condition when they respawned, and it seemed like they were free from stress. Maybe they should lose their lives in outside battles rather than sit still. Whether that’s because they are monsters or because of their personalities, I decided to say ‘Welcome back’ and ‘Take care’ to them from now on.

I don’t intend to interfere with them anymore. I might not even have the right to think that way since I was the one who created them, but I thought it would be best to let them be free. …No, that’s not right. I lied. What I should do is appropriately manage the dungeon. That way, they can become more robust. But…

“I can’t just go around killing people.”

I went to sleep, pondering how to make the monsters I created happy. The next day, I began reading books using my DP (Dungeon Points), researching how to make them happy. And I found one solution. If I acquire a skill called ‘Contract Magic’ through Dungeon Master enhancements, I can break the contract with the monsters. That way, even if the dungeon dies, they won’t part with it.

However, I discovered a problem: severing the contracts would mean they could no longer respawn in my dungeon. In other words, even if I were to learn Contract Magic and set them free, the likelihood of them surviving in the wild, given their daily deaths, would be zero.

Furthermore, I don’t have enough DP to acquire the necessary Contract Magic skills. And to earn that, I’d have to kill creatures. That’s a catch-22. Killing other animals to keep my own ‘family’ alive might be justifiable from a biological standpoint, but I haven’t come to view the monsters I created as anything special.

So, it seems I have no choice but to live each day in repentance and despair for the tragic fate of the 13 monsters who were selfishly created and killed by a self-centered man like me for a whole year.

It was then that something happened. Bringing light to this dark situation was a dragon-kin monster called Bladdon Rozina, who looked like nothing more than a lizard that could spit a small flame. She came back carrying something that looked like fur.

Is this for me?

Even when I asked, there was no response. Rozina placed the fur near me and left again. She used to be primarily immobile in the room, but seeing her walk outside was somewhat cute. After that, monsters other than Rozina started bringing back items—animal fur and fangs, and the monsters from fairy and plant tribes brought weird herbs.

Seeing everyone bringing in items, I wondered if it had some meaning. I recalled that you can gain DP if you put things with magical power into the Core.

I quickly tried it, inserting one of the fangs into the Core, and gained 1 DP. Wait, is it really this simple?

Since realizing this, I began inserting the items I received into the core one after another. …So, it turns out I can gain points without killing. I had forgotten, even though it was written in the manual. There was a path for me as a scavenger.

It might not be simple, but I finally found a solution to my problem. Every day, without killing any creatures, I can scavenge items filled with magical power or the remains of monsters and use them to enhance my monsters, helping them survive outside. And by cutting the contracts with Contract Magic, I can make it so they don’t have to die when I do!

If I can accomplish this within a year, I can quit being a Dungeon Master and pass on without lingering regrets! I never thought tidying up my affairs would be so challenging, even in death. Hahaha.

On the third day since the dungeon had opened, I finally saw hope. … I’m such a fool, always quickly forgetting the obvious. Despair follows hope, as they say.

Opening up the dungeon, of course, means considering that we could be attacked. How simple a rule it is, and yet I forgot it. What a fool I am.

Yes, finally, a challenger appeared in the dungeon. Or should I say, an attacker? I can’t help but think, “Why now?” but at that moment, I felt like I learned just how difficult it is to take responsibility for the lives you’ve created.

That person seemed to have just happened upon the place. They approached after seeing me in the cave and cautiously scanning the area.

“A Raptor… no, a cow?”

What appeared was an indescribable creature. It was shaped like a theropod dinosaur, yet its face was that of a black fighting bull. Its head was disproportionately large compared to its body. The ominous form suggested that this creature evolved not for “survival and reproduction” but for “combat.” Its muscular legs alone were taller than me, making it clear that there was no chance of winning even if I gave it my all.

My body tensed up in sheer terror as it approached due to its size. After all, its head was about the same size as my entire body. The only thought in my mind was, “I hope this ends quickly.”

The demonic bull stared at me with emotionless eyes. I knew what it was thinking: “Can I eat this one?”

Before I knew it, I clutched my pendant as if praying, closing my eyes in overwhelming fear. And just as if it had been waiting for that moment, the demonic bull let out a growl. It was eaten head-first.