episode_0034

The dungeon Karen and I stepped into was filled with pitch-black darkness, so thick that not an inch ahead was visible.

After some time, my eyes adjusted slightly to the dark, but it was still far from clear.

“…I can barely see in front of me.”

Turning on my smartphone’s flashlight might help a little, but at best, it’s just an auxiliary function—hardly enough to secure a proper field of vision.

Besides, holding a smartphone would naturally mean losing the use of one hand.

If a monster were to appear in that state, I’d be in serious trouble.

Sacrifice vision?

Or sacrifice a hand?

Either choice would be fatal in combat.

If there had been a mage in the party, they could’ve illuminated the surroundings with a light spell, but unfortunately, it was just Karen and me here.

“Did you prepare headlamps?”

“Obviously. No mage means we had to.”

At Karen’s question, I rummaged through my dimensional pouch, pulled out two caps, and handed one to her.

She placed the headlamp on her head like a cap and turned it on. The attached light partially illuminated the path ahead.

“Heh. Like this, you really do look like a miner.”

“…Since you’re the employer today, I’ll let it slide.”

Watching Karen grit her teeth, I chuckled and put on my own headlamp.

With two lights shining simultaneously, visibility improved significantly.

“…..”

Karen stepped forward, holding her greatsword in a stance that shielded her front.

Her posture was instinctively defensive, ready to counter any sudden ambush.

This wasn’t something one could naturally adopt just by learning theory.

It was a defensive stance ingrained through experience—a reflex against unpredictable threats.

Still, I noticed slight imperfections.

“Hold it at a bit more of an angle.”

I grabbed the hilt of her greatsword and adjusted it slightly with a twist.

“…..”

She could’ve coldly snapped at me to stop nitpicking, but instead, she pressed her lips shut and stared.

“Reason?”

Not a refusal, but a demand for explanation.

“Blocking attacks head-on isn’t efficient. You want to deflect and disperse the force. Angling it like this reduces strain on your joints—wrists, especially—when parrying.”

“Logical. Got it.”

Nodding, Karen adjusted her grip.

I admired how she willingly broke her own habits to absorb new knowledge.

Then—

—Skreech.

A sound like something scraping against the ground echoed from ahead.

“They’re here.”

“I know.”

After a brief exchange, we halted and lowered our stances.

According to my knowledge, the monsters appearing at the dungeon’s entrance were… the Gloomy Afflictions.

Pale blue, slender, almost doll-like in appearance.

And—bingo.

My prediction was spot-on.

“…What the hell are those?”

As multiple Gloomy Afflictions slowly approached, Karen’s already sharp gaze turned even fiercer.

“I’ll explain in detail after we deal with them. They’re soft from head to toe, so cutting them down should be easy.”

“Anything else?”

“Hmm… Oh, avoid letting their skin touch you. Let’s make this quick.”

I took off my headlamp and set it on the ground to light the area, then borrowed a persona.

Since the Artist persona wore a beret, keeping the headlamp on would’ve made it disappear upon borrowing.

“…A melancholy emotion, dyed in tranquil blue.”

Muttering, I gripped a carving knife and scissors.

Then, Karen spoke from beside me.

“You… okay in the head?”

For a moment, shame surged to the top of my skull, but the Artist persona didn’t permit such emotions to surface.

“…Don’t cross the line.”

I wanted to say, I’m fine, stop worrying, but it came out like that. Damn shame.

To break out of this miserable situation, I’d have to quickly deal with those sluggish creatures ahead.

—Tap!

Fueled by shame, I dashed forward, closing the distance in an instant.

“…Keep your hands steady.”

With the scissors, I cleanly snipped off one’s neck.

“Trace the outline.”

I kicked the headless body hard, sending it crashing into the others like dominoes.

—Swish!

Dodging a slow, gelatinous fist, I drove the carving knife and scissors into the attacker’s face.

Pulling a chisel and hammer from my tool belt, I hammered them into the rising creatures.

Slash, cut, pierce, slash again.

The entire process flowed like water.

A massacre refined into an art form.

With the last one, I stabbed the carving knife between its brows and muttered:

“…And thus, a full stop.”

The euphoria of completing this “art” was short-lived. Regaining my senses, I canceled the persona and slapped my cheeks, shaking my head.

Ugh, embarrassing.

Calling slaughter art?

The fact that I’d been momentarily enthralled by the Artist’s twisted values was mortifying.

Hurriedly dismissing the persona, I dusted my hands and turned around.

There stood Karen, arms crossed, watching me.

“Saw it last time too, but your ability’s weird. Your fighting style changes with your clothes.”

“And—to add—so does my speech. Whether I like it or not.”

“You seem flustered.”

“Don’t misunderstand. I’m fine. Physically and mentally.”

“If you say so.”

Her curt reply was typical Karen, but today, it grated on me oddly.

Ignoring her smirk, I picked up the headlamp and put it back on.

“Let’s keep moving.”

“You said you’d explain what those things were, didn’t you?”

“Ah, right. I’ll tell you as we go.”

Walking deeper into the dungeon, I continued.

“Those were Gloomy Afflictions. Monsters formed from condensed high-density mana infused with the melancholy of the dead. They’re not well-known since their drop materials are useless and their spawn rate is low.”

“So no other monsters appear in this dungeon?”

“Half-right. It’s not just Gloomy Afflictions—their evolved forms show up too.”

“Which are?”

At Karen’s impatient question, I answered methodically.

“Gloomy Afflictions at the entrance. Melancholic Afflictions, their evolved form, in the mid-section. And at the deepest layer, the boss—Despair Affliction, the final form.”

“What a depressing dungeon. Hate it.”

Karen clicked her tongue.

“Their traits?”

“Their bodies are soft, so slashing and stabbing work well. Except the boss—Despair Affliction’s body is almost human-like.”

“Got the ‘soft’ part. Anything else?”

“If their tissue touches your skin, you’ll sink.”

“Sink? Quit being vague and spit it out.”

As Karen scowled, I shrugged.

“Literally. If they touch you, your emotions get dragged into a deep, damp, dark abyss. They’re aggregates of depressive emotions.”

The Afflictions, born from the dead’s sorrow, strangle the minds of the living.

“Survivors say it’s like reliving your worst memory on loop.”

“…..”

At my blunt explanation, Karen trembled slightly.

Perhaps her past had resurfaced.

Then—

—Skreech.

The familiar sound returned from ahead.

“More of them.”

“…..”

This time, multiple Gloomy Afflictions and one azure Melancholic Affliction appeared.

As long as we avoided skin contact, they weren’t a major threat.

I glanced quietly at Karen.

“…..”

She shivered faintly as she stared at the Afflictions.

At first, I wondered why she feared them so much—then I realized.

She was afraid of confronting them, afraid they’d dredge up her past.

In the game, when Karen cleared this dungeon, she wasn’t this affected.

The current Karen hadn’t yet mustered the courage to face her past.

No wonder these weak Afflictions terrified her.

I hadn’t considered that.

My oversight.

“I can handle them alone if you want.”

I said it to be considerate, but Karen shook her head.

“…No.”

Though her trembling didn’t stop, the look in her eyes changed.

From pure fear—

To something darker, laced with spite.

“I can do it.”

She raised her greatsword and stepped forward.

Then—

—Whoosh!

Flames erupted from her blade.