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! - Chapter 7: Dungeon Hunting (Jacqueline's POV)

That day, I, Jacqueline Spoonbender, had heard rumors about a newly emerged dungeon and decided to visit a particular forest. I have had difficulty walking and moving around in a wheelchair, but thanks to my mastery of magical control, I can easily dodge most obstacles and threats.

“The location is quite promising… I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

A good Dungeon Master is often blessed with luck. Dungeon Masters cannot choose the location where their dungeon forms. If it’s too close to a populated area, it will be seen as a threat and eradicated immediately. On the other hand, if it’s in an uninhabitable area, the dungeon will perish within a year due to its inherent nature to claim lives periodically.

“The ideal location would be land teeming with weak and foolish monsters.”

“People usually intervene before a dungeon is fully formed.”

This forest is located southeast of a mundane town called Boardlitta. Boardlitta is a town foolishly copied from a bustling city called Blue Princess by a foolish king. The town quickly declined since prosperity isn’t determined solely by shape. However, it seems to have recovered thanks to a significant trade port nearby, but that’s wholly irrelevant.

I consider this place excellent because while the existing monsters are too strong for a novice Dungeon Master to handle, they exist. The formidable monsters here are D-rank Warhounds and D-rank Halk Spiders. Also, there are bird-type D-rank monsters like Onibirds.

These creatures are undoubtedly too strong for the G-rank monsters summoned by a novice Dungeon Master, but if traps are well-placed, they could be hunted. In short, if the dungeon system is well-structured, there’s a chance for growth.

Firstly, there’s about a 10% chance that a clueless novice Dungeon Master would use their Dungeon Points to invest heavily in traps. If those traps are ineffective—like pitfalls or spiked floors—then D-rank monsters won’t be hunted, reducing the chance to around 5%.

But on the flip side, if you manage to hit that 5%, it’s all about how many monsters you can attract to the dungeon. Considering it’s said that less than 1% of dungeons survive for over a year, isn’t this a decent location?

Besides, this place is not frequented by humans. If the dungeon master successfully sets traps and hunts monsters without being discovered by humans, there’s even a possibility of reaching A-rank dungeon status.

“Well, that’s why I’m here before that happens.”

I sighed as I spoke to myself. It’s a hard road for Dungeon Masters, especially with people like me targeting promising ones.

“Now, it should be around here…”

Before me lay a stretch of forest and a steep rock wall, I came to this desolate land because my sister had told me about the potential appearance of a new dungeon.

“Eyewitness reports of monsters that aren’t local. Well, that’s almost synonymous with a newly-established dungeon.”

No one can accurately measure how many new dungeons appear each year, but history proves how rare it is for one to survive. Globally, the number of A-rank dungeons maintained for hundreds of years is said to be fewer than 30.

On the flip side, rumors about new dungeons are pretty standard. Dungeons are most vulnerable at the beginning. Overcoming that initial stage is crucial.

“Ah, so this is it? I’m glad I didn’t waste my time coming here.”

I saw a hole in the rock wall. Peering inside, it looked like a hallway made of bricks.

“Still in its initial settings… The Dungeon Master doesn’t care much for appearances, or they’re a realist who conserves Dungeon Points (DP). I can also smell blood. At the very least, it doesn’t seem like a shut-in dungeon.”

However, strangely, there were no bodies around. Yet, that question was overridden by an even bigger one. At the entrance, a note was posted in Etinan language, essentially saying, “Enter, and your life is forfeit.”

“Etinan language… Did the rookie Dungeon Master prioritize language skills? Were they dreaming of befriending the locals? Have they never ventured into a human settlement before? And this warning… Do they think that threatening lives will keep people away? Or do they not want to kill?”

None of my hypotheses seemed to fit. To become a Dungeon Master, one needs specific qualifications. Considering the gods’ intentions, they would choose a human who could kill more efficiently.

“This must be a trap meant to catch people off guard.”

With that conclusion, I began my investigation of the dungeon. Dungeon exploration has advanced these days. If the jail has no countermeasures, I can roughly understand its structure even from the outside using tools.

Upon checking, I noticed the entire corridor was subtly uphill, and there seemed to be a bend every 30 meters. Excluding the entrance, everything turns to the left, making it seem like a dungeon shaped like a pyramid. There aren’t any stairs, so it’s a wheelchair-friendly dungeon. Well, they probably didn’t expect a woman in a wheelchair to attack until she confronted me today.

“I could tell that the dungeon master is very clever, but this shape in this location? Maybe they’re a warrior?”

While there are countless strategies for dungeons, only a few will ensure survival. This is one of those survival dungeons. Despite being a single path, the many bends make reaching the speeds one might expect in a straight corridor impossible and impede magic. The incline ensures the ones continuously respawning have the terrain advantage.

Hmm. Not a bad design philosophy. They must have put a lot of thought into this. I might approve of this one. Thinking so, I couldn’t help but smile.

However, I can’t understand why they chose a dungeon that relies on hand-to-hand combat instead of traps in a forest rampant with D-rank monsters. They could’ve hunted easily with traps. Perhaps they love to fight?

I entered the dungeon after predicting the kind of attacks the enemy might use. There should be some action from the other side in a short while.

In no time, as expected, I heard a voice from around the corner saying, “Hey there.” I put on a smile to appear as an innocent girl.

A man appeared from the corner, calling out with a seemingly carefree smile. He looked to be in his teens. Despite his pure and genuine smile, there’s something unreliable about him. Maybe it’s because he looks so young.

Perhaps to claim he was unarmed, he raised both his hands. At least he wasn’t naked. I’ve seen many dungeon masters who rarely interact with humans, and when they do, it’s usually a fight to the death. So many don’t care about their appearance to the extent of forgetting to wear clothes.

“My name’s Wito. Umm, what brings you here?”

“Thank you for your politeness. I am Jacqueline Spoonbender. I live in a nearby town and heard about the dungeon in this forest. I was curious about the dungeon master… May I take a look inside?”

Of course, I don’t think any village would have such a nonsensical sacrificial custom, but a dungeon master who doesn’t understand human society might fall for such a lie. Wito’s face lit up as if all his worries were gone when I said this.

“Oh, I see. Please come in. Ah, let me help with the wheelchair. It must have been tough getting here with this slope, right?”

Without waiting for my permission, he grabbed the wheelchair’s handles and began pushing me.

“I unexpectedly became a dungeon master, and there’s so much I don’t understand. Ah, I’m glad I might finally have a human friend.”

“Is that so? What don’t you understand?”

“Everything. Traps, creating monsters, you name it. It’s a struggle to survive.”

We carried on with such light-hearted conversation for a while. Soon, Wito and I were reaching the middle of the dungeon. However, Wito seemed lost in his thoughts since I wasn’t making any aggressive or safety demands. I saw through his feigned composure.

“Are you listening, Wito? I was asking about your favorite glove design.”

“Huh? Oh, did you? I don’t have a preference, but I guess a basic shorty is good.”

Of course, I had no genuine interest in such a topic. I was teasing Wito, who desperately tried to keep up with someone whose intentions he couldn’t discern. It was amusing.

“You’re probably wondering when I will kill you, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

Wito replied with a flustered voice. My timing was impeccable. I was able to rattle him, who seemed decent at mind games.

“Approaching me without any weapons was to make me let my guard down. But you weren’t planning to kill me; you expected to be killed.”

“Stop saying such scary things!”

When I pressed him, he quickly regained his composure. But I had grown tired of small talk. If this were an accurate dungeon capture, I’d continue to be guided by him, but this was just a test.

“You were probably planning to be killed multiple times, thinking I wouldn’t let my guard down after just one time.”

“If you keep saying ridiculous things, I’ll ask you to leave!”

“That’s fine. If I stay silent, we’ll end up in the core room anyway.”

With that said, Wito finally fell silent.

“It’s a good strategy. I apologize, but I had already investigated the layout of the dungeon. From what I gather, based on the dungeon’s structure, you intended to kill me multiple times to exhaust me. But the core room is too far from the entrance initially, which isn’t very efficient. If you were planning to kill me anyway, you should have made small talk to extract information.”

“Um, I’ll accompany you to the entrance and give you a parting gift. Could you please leave?”

Trying to turn the wheelchair around, I grabbed Wito’s hand to stop him.

“Listen, Wito. You’re terrible at pretending to be a fool. Suppose you intended to act this dumb, not even bringing a weapon in this situation. In that case, you should have been more disgraceful, pressuring me and questioning the situation you found yourself in.”

“Damn it! Why is this happening to me?”

“You’re too slow!”

I was surprised he tried to inject humor into such a situation. Maybe he has some trick up his sleeve.

“Moreover, the discrepancy between your rough behavior, pushing a woman’s wheelchair in this dim hallway without permission, and your polite tone at the entrance is striking. Well, I have the advantage in knowledge, so I wouldn’t lose in a deception contest.”

When I finished my detective act and looked back, he silently pressed his head against the ground. I’m not sure which culture that gesture belongs to, but I understood quickly that it was the highest form of pleading. He also seemed very familiar with it.

“…Lastly, I beg you. Please let me go. I’ve never killed anyone. I hate killing and being killed.”

Hearing that line reminded me of someone I knew long ago, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”