Chapter 7: No Dream Importing Part 1

The entire area was filled with thick, hazy fog.

Soren felt damp soil against his palm.

He brushed off the dirt and slowly got to his feet.

‘Where am I?’

Something was definitely off.

The floor had been perfectly intact when all seven of them entered, but the moment Soren stepped forward, it collapsed like a lie.

More unsettling, though, was that despite falling from such a great height, Soren’s body was completely unharmed—and the scenery around him had changed in an instant.

The seven other explorers were nowhere to be seen.

In fact, the fog was so dense that he couldn’t see beyond five steps ahead.

After confirming his backpack was still intact, Soren hesitated for a moment, then began walking cautiously.

No matter how far he walked, the fog never ended.

It felt like he was walking in circles.

‘I’m dead tired already…’

He’d been wandering alone in what was basically a dungeon maze for half the day.

Sure, that didn’t compare to the other explorers who had entered the dungeon earlier this morning, but Soren had only just recently made it through hellish conditions in the forest—sleeping rough under the open sky.

Exhaustion pressed down on his eyelids.

Soren rummaged through his bag, took out a plant, and bit into it.

Crunch.

The dried leaves crumbled and released a sharp, minty flavor.

The intense sting jolted his senses awake.

It was a herb known as ‘Hunter’s Leaf,’ known for its mild stimulant effect.

Forcing himself to stay awake, Soren pressed on.

The damp ground only made each step more draining.

His empty stomach growled as he slowly nibbled on a piece of hard bread.

Melting it with saliva made it last longer, and that gave him a bit of a sense of fullness.

‘Where did the other explorers go?’

Even as he kept walking through the unchanged landscape, his mind—fueled by the forced clarity of the herb—spun with questions.

The seven explorers who had entered the room before Soren…

‘If they had fallen into this mysterious space as well, they were probably also wandering through this endless fog.’

But in all this mist, there were no footprints—no shadows.

Soren licked his dry lips, unease rising within him.

He had no idea how long he’d been walking through the fog.

‘Ten minutes? Thirty? Maybe an hour?’ It was enough to drive anyone mad.

A creeping thought began to form—’what if he was trapped here forever?’

Then, after walking a little farther, Soren suddenly caught a different scent—one that wasn’t just the damp, fishy smell of the fog.

It was rich and mouthwatering.

It smelled even better than that stew he once had—boiled with meat and potatoes to his heart’s content.

‘What is that?’

Baffled, Soren turned toward the source of the delicious aroma.

He couldn’t see the scent, of course—but somehow, with each step, his confidence in the direction grew.

The smell grew stronger and stronger.

Through the mist, something glowing faintly came into view.

A few moments later, Soren found himself standing in front of an inn, sitting all alone in the middle of the fog.

***

The inn was downright bizarre.

Not just because it stood alone in the mist—but because in this damp, rotting environment, the building looked completely intact.

From the crack in the door, Soren could see a cozy-looking lobby, soft lighting, and tidy tables.

‘Is there someone here?’

When he saw a host inside calmly wiping dishes, it felt pointless to stay on guard any longer.

Still unsure, Soren carefully pushed the door open.

The innkeeper, bald on the top of his head, turned to look at Soren.

“You’re today’s first guest. Just passing through?”

“…Yeah.”

“Come on in. Room and board are free.”

Soren’s eyes widened.

‘Free room and board?’ That couldn’t be right.

Part of him wanted to just settle down here on the spot.

“Sit wherever you like. Plenty of open seats.”

“Then… I will.”

As he sat down in a quiet corner of the warm, welcoming inn, both his body and mind began to relax.

The stimulant leaf he’d chewed earlier had lost its effect.

His eyelids kept fluttering shut.

“You must be hungry. Eat as much as you want.”

The innkeeper brought out food.

Soren stared blankly at the plate—neatly arranged sausages, cheese, mashed potatoes, and bread.

It looked—and smelled—so good it was driving him crazy.

‘What if it’s poisoned?’

Even in his dulled state, Soren didn’t let his guard down completely.

He stole a glance toward the innkeeper, who had returned to wiping dishes.

There was nothing suspicious about him, but eating the food without knowing anything still felt risky.

‘What is this place? I’ve never heard of an inn inside a dungeon.’

Soren slowly pulled a guidebook from his bag.

Flipping through the pages, he searched for a section about overgrown dens.

The pages blurred before his eyes as they passed by.

[There is a strange place that can only be accessed through the upper dungeon’s Overgrown Den or the Cave of Chill. It is an inn, located in a place endlessly covered in fog. When eight or more explorers enter, they are forcefully transported there.]

Soren found the answer quickly—The Fog Inn.

Every detail matched perfectly.

‘Eight people… damn it.’

He let out a bitter chuckle.

So the only reason he’d ended up here… was because he was the eighth one to step in.

[The inn is maintained by a being known as the Innkeeper. This being will never attack first. It simply offers harmless food and comfortable rest to any explorer who enters the inn.]

At that exact moment, Soren’s stomach growled loudly.

Chewing on that hard bread earlier clearly wasn’t enough to satisfy his hunger.

Without hesitation, Soren picked up the utensils and took a huge bite of the sausage.

Juices burst out, filling his mouth.

The guidebook had specifically said the food was harmless, so it seemed safe enough to eat.

[But remember this, Soren. In the dungeon, no one offers kindness without a reason.]

But when he turned to the next page, Soren froze mid-bite.

[The inn in the fog, guarded by the Innkeeper. The name of that place is as follows—]

[Anomaly: No Dream Import Allowed.]

This was the true nature of the place.

The dungeon’s layout was maze-like in complexity, but the types of “rooms” within it had been at least partially identified.

Among them, the so-called “Anomaly Encounter” room was the one that most confused explorers.

[Anomaly Encounter Rooms are, quite literally, places where you encounter anomalies. At a glance, they may resemble special event rooms, but what sets them apart is a unique feature—there is absolutely no way to escape them through conventional means.]

Soren quietly closed the strategy guide, his eyes sharpening.

“‘No Dream Entry’… Pretty on-the-nose name.”

The anomaly known as “Anomaly: No Dream Entry” was simple in concept.

An endless inn shrouded in fog—and a mysterious innkeeper who guarded it.

Explorers who entered would be treated to warm meals and comfortable beds by the innkeeper, and they would rest contentedly.

Eating and resting were fine.

But there was one thing no one must ever do.

Sleep.

‘Anomaly: No Dream Entry.’

True to its name, this was a place where sleeping was strictly forbidden.

Soren’s gaze, now sharp as a blade, turned toward the innkeeper, who stood there drying dishes with a gentle smile.

[Once every explorer has entered their room, the innkeeper begins to act. His goal is to collect the ‘dreams’ of any who fall asleep.]

Anyone whose dream is taken will never awaken again.

Their body still breathes, their flesh remains intact—but they lie there like a corpse, their soul stolen.

Soren’s throat bobbed with tension.

There was a reason why food and lodging were free.

The inn existed to lull explorers into dropping their guard and falling asleep.

Then, the dream harvesting would begin.

‘What the hell is this guy?’

He looked like a regular person on the outside, but his behavior was anything but human.

Soren’s hand moved away from the utensils.

He had eaten a little, but it shouldn’t have made him this drowsy.

He blinked rapidly.

His eyelids were heavy, and his head was beginning to fog with fatigue.

But he couldn’t sleep.

And he couldn’t leave either.

The fog outside induced sleep.

That’s why he’d been so tired on the way in.

[The escape condition for Anomaly: No Dream Entry is simple. Stay awake for one full day.]

At least there was that mercy—if he could endure for just one day, he could return to the dungeon.

‘Just one day. I only need to hold out for one day.’

Soren pushed the food away and pulled out some hunter’s grass to chew.

He could feel the innkeeper watching him from the corner of his eye, but the man didn’t try to stop him or force him upstairs.

“Are you really okay?”

“You little—stop whining. Why so scared?”

***

After sitting in tense silence for a while, the inn’s doors burst open, and four people entered the hall.

“What the hell kind of inn is this…? Huh?”

A warrior with a club and shield locked eyes with Soren.

It was a reunion he didn’t welcome.

The club-wielding warrior’s name was Karel, supposedly a member of the Iron Fang Clan.

Along with him were a rat-faced archer, a prickly-looking mage, and a bald monk.

They each introduced themselves briefly as Vico, Yerena, and Lura.

“So, what’s your deal?”

Karel, the scarred warrior, asked while munching on a sausage.

Soren glanced sideways at him, unimpressed.

He didn’t like the guy—the cocky attitude, the ominous scar across his forehead—none of it sat well.

“Deril. I’m a necromancer.”

“A necromancer, huh? Not someone you meet every day.”

“You travel alone because you’re a necromancer?”

So Soren spun a lie without blinking.

He’d picked necromancer out of all the possible classes for one simple reason.

According to the strategy guide, necromancers were one of the few who often explored dungeons alone.

It was a calculated move to cut off suspicion from the start.

“Anyway, nice to meet you. Good to have someone to talk to, at least.”

“Right.”

But the conversation didn’t go much further.

Soren didn’t trust Karel’s party, and they didn’t seem to fully trust him either.

“Ahem. Karel, let’s just eat.”

“Yeah, then let’s head to bed. No room charge, they said.”

“Yeah, we should.”

The clinking of tableware echoed awkwardly through the room.

Soren quietly observed their behavior.

Beyond the damp, fishy scent of the fog, he caught a faint trace of blood—animal blood.

“Hey, Deril, was it?”

“Go ahead.”

“Let’s just rest quietly and part ways. No reason for any bloodshed, right?”

Soren nodded calmly.

They probably didn’t want a fight either.

After all, they’d been out in the fog longer than he had.

That meant they’d inhaled more of the sleep-inducing mist.

The signs were there—Karel’s party all looked thoroughly exhausted.

He was tired and on edge, and so were they.

No one wanted to start trouble.

“By the way, didn’t those other guys fall too?”

“You mean those three from earlier?”

“Yeah, them.”

Karel’s group began murmuring amongst themselves.

Their conversation seemed focused on where to explore next and how to escape this place.

“Hey, necromancer. You got any ideas on how to get out of here?”

“I don’t.”

“Hmm… too bad.”

Karel didn’t seem to know the escape conditions.

At least, that’s how he acted.

As for the other three… Soren couldn’t tell for sure.

But they were exchanging glances—quick ones.

‘Maybe it was just the fatigue, but better safe than sorry.’

Clatter!

“Whew, damn! I thought I was gonna die!”

“Hey! You can’t just rush off like that!” said Bok.

With a loud crash, the inn’s front door swung open again, stirring the quiet.

Karel’s party turned their heads toward the noise.

It was a three-man party—those who had entered their rooms earlier.

They stormed in as if they were about to break down the door.

Karel’s group and the new arrivals locked eyes midair.

“Well, look who it is.”

“…….”

Soren’s uneasy gaze followed them, a sinking feeling growing in his chest.

Something felt very wrong.