Chương 4: Apparently, Walking Is a Waste of Time

It was just past one in the afternoon. Matt sat at the small fold-down table inside his travel trailer at site G-214, staring at the one line in his Status that currently bothered him. Skill Gem Slot 1: Empty He had managed his first Dungeon run just fine with a longsword and Anchored Step, but now that the slot existed, leaving it empty felt unfinished. He had unlocked something. Therefore, obviously, it needed to be filled. Matt pulled out his phone and opened the Black Hollow Camp directory.

A search for Skill Gems immediately brought up six stores within walking distance. He was halfway through the reviews for one of them when his stomach growled loudly enough to interrupt the thought. Matt stopped and checked the clock. 1: 17 PM.

Since breakfast, he had bought a pickup truck, purchased a travel trailer, spent nearly two thousand dollars on beginner Delver equipment, driven several hours across state lines, learned to back a trailer badly, entered his first Dungeon, killed his first monsters, reached Level Two, chosen Warrior, and sold three Mana Stones. He had apparently forgotten lunch somewhere in there.

"Right." Matt closed the store listing.

"Food first. Build second." He stood up and stripped off the last pieces of his Gear. The longsword went onto the bed, while the chest piece and bracers went into the locking storage compartment beneath it. His boots stayed on, mostly because he had already discovered that half the Camp wore reinforced Dungeon boots as everyday footwear. A few minutes later, Matt was back in jeans and a T-shirt. Before leaving, he checked his COPY slots.

Perfect Temperature was useful enough that he had no intention of ever deleting it from his mental list of favorite conveniences. That did not mean it needed to occupy a combat slot. He removed it and equipped Sure Grip instead. DUNGEON COPY LOADOUT Anchored Step — C Sure Grip — E Perfect Temperature remained safely stored in the Archive, ready to be swapped back in whenever Matt wanted coffee instead of protection from being disarmed.

"That makes considerably more sense." He grabbed his phone, wallet, and bright plastic Camp pass, then stepped outside. ◆ Black Hollow looked different when Matt wasn't concentrating on not hitting anything with a trailer. The road through G-sector was busy. A rented golf cart rolled past carrying four exhausted-looking Delvers in mud-streaked armor.

A man beside a neighboring RV had spread an entire suit of chainmail across a folding drying rack, while another sat under an awning with two laptops open, editing Dungeon footage and eating instant noodles straight from the cup. A woman in shorts and a tank top hung laundry beside an expensive motorhome with a spear leaning against its side.

Two dogs slept beneath a pickup truck, somebody had set up a charcoal grill between two trailers, and another man sharpened a curved sword while discussing what sounded like an insurance claim over the phone. It was an RV park. A very American RV park. Just one where half the residents were armed. Matt walked toward the commercial center. He had passed most of it earlier without paying attention.

There were repair shops, a laundry, a clinic, food trucks, an equipment rental booth, and a shipping counter advertising insured overnight delivery for Dungeon loot. Another building had a large digital board mounted over the entrance. CURRENT BLACK HOLLOW F-RANK MANA STONE BUY PRICE The number changed by a few cents while Matt watched. Apparently even beginner rocks had a live market.

He passed a ramen truck, then tacos, then a place with a wooden sign reading: AUTHENTIC MONSTER MEAT BBQ Matt slowed long enough to inspect both the smoker and the sign.

"Later." Much later. He eventually settled on a permanent building near the center of the commercial strip. It looked like someone had picked up an American roadside diner from 1987 and dropped it intact into the middle of the twenty-first-century Dungeon economy. A neon sign buzzed above the entrance. THE LAST FLASK DINER Below it sat a handwritten chalkboard. BREAKFAST ALL DAY ACTIVE CAMP PASS — 10% OFF NO BLOODY ARMOR INSIDE Matt stared at the final rule.

"That probably exists for a reason." He pushed the door open. A bell rang overhead. The smell of frying onions, coffee, bacon grease, and old vinyl immediately hit him. Red booths lined one wall and a long silver counter stretched down the other. Behind it, two waitresses moved rapidly between coffee pots and plates. The decorations were almost entirely Black Hollow memorabilia. There was a framed photograph of the Dungeon Gate fifteen years earlier, surrounded by military vehicles and temporary concrete barriers.

Beside it hung a blurry shot of a massive humanoid wearing a miner's helmet and carrying what looked like a two-handed sledgehammer. A brass plaque underneath read: THE OLD FOREMAN — FIRST CONFIRMED IMAGE Another wall held old newspaper clippings about Black Hollow being declared a stable F-rank, public access beginning, and the first commercial Dungeon Camp being approved. Near the bathrooms, an old Delver Association recruitment poster showed a grinning young man holding a sword.

F-RANK IS SAFER THAN WALKING Matt stared at that one for a moment. His experience with the Cave Rat came back to him.

"Still a stupid slogan." Mostly. The diner was packed. Morning Delvers were finishing their shifts while afternoon runners ate before heading into the Dungeon. Some still wore partial armor, and several had weapon cases leaning against their booths. Nobody seemed particularly excited about any of it. Matt took an empty stool at the counter. A waitress slid a laminated menu toward him.

"Coffee?"

"Please. Cheeseburger and fries too."

"Medium?"

"Yeah." She poured him a mug and disappeared. Matt wrapped both hands around it, then noticed the man beside him. Forty, maybe a little older. Deeply tanned. Faded flannel shirt, heavy scuffed Dungeon boots, and a thick utility belt. No armor. No weapon. Everything about him said experienced Delver anyway, including the pint of beer sitting in front of him. Matt glanced at the wall clock. 1: 28 PM.

Then he remembered the armored guy who had spent part of the morning drinking beer while watching him fail to park a trailer. Delvers apparently kept whatever hours the Dungeon allowed. The man noticed the glance anyway and slowly turned his head.

"What?"

"Nothing. Still adjusting to Dungeon schedules." The man looked at his beer.

"Started work at five-thirty."

"That would explain it."

"Usually does." Matt reached for his coffee instead. One cautious sip told him everything he needed to know. Too hot. He almost triggered Perfect Temperature automatically before remembering that it was currently sitting in his Archive instead of an active slot. Matt paused. Then smiled slightly.

"Right." He swapped Sure Grip out, equipped Perfect Temperature, and corrected the coffee with a thought. A faint pulse passed through the ceramic and the drink settled instantly to exactly the temperature he wanted. Matt took another sip. Perfect. The man beside him glanced at the mug.

"Utility Skill?" Matt looked over.

"Something like that."

"Coffee?"

"Coffee." The man gave a short laugh.

"Could be worse."

"I'm finding that out." He extended a hand.

"Rick Dawson."

"Matt Hayes." They shook. Rick didn't ask what the Skill was called, what rank it was, or exactly how it worked. Matt appreciated that. Apparently Dungeon etiquette extended beyond Boss loot. The waitress returned with his burger. Matt had just picked it up when a large bus pulled up outside. He glanced through the front windows. The vehicle was immaculate, dark blue, and carried large white lettering along the side. ATLANTIC DELVER ACADEMY Behind it came a heavy equipment truck wearing the same logo.

The bus doors opened and around twenty young people filed out, most looking eighteen to twenty and wearing matching navy Academy jackets. Some carried helmet bags, several already wore low-rank armor, and two older instructors followed them out and began directing the group toward the diner. Within thirty seconds, the noise level doubled. Matt watched them fill several booths.

"Academy group?" Rick barely looked over.

"Yep."

"I knew Delver training programs were a thing. I didn't realize people did full-on school circuits like this." Rick slowly turned toward him.

"You really are new."

"Started this morning." Rick stared.

"…This morning?"

"First Dungeon around eleven." Rick nodded slowly, lifted his beer, and said, "Well. That explains a lot." Matt took a bite of his burger.

"So those are what? College students?"

"Some. Some academies take kids straight out of high school. Some run two-year programs. Some are private training schools." Rick pointed toward the Academy jackets.

"Delving's been mainstream long enough that a lot of kids grow up planning for it the way people used to plan for college sports or trade school." Matt nodded. That part he knew. Famous Delvers, sponsored teams, livestreamers, and Dungeon celebrities were everywhere. What he had never paid much attention to was the pipeline underneath them. Rick continued.

"High-rank Delvers are celebrities. Dungeon streamers have millions of followers, famous Unique Item drops can put someone's face across every major feed for a week, and kids see the travel, loot, money, and sponsors."

"So their parents pay for Dungeon school."

"Good money too."

"How good?"

"College good. Thirty, forty grand for a middle-of-the-road program. Elite schools get stupid." Matt winced slightly.

"Of course they do."

"Welcome to America." Matt took another bite.

"What do they actually teach?"

"Weapons, monster identification, Life and Mana management, Dungeon law, loot rights, first aid, Portal use, Camp logistics, equipment maintenance, Boss etiquette, build theory." Rick lifted another finger.

"Streaming." Matt looked at him.

"Streaming?"

"Some schools have sponsor and media classes. Fancy ones teach contract law too." Rick shrugged.

"If your student turns into a famous A-rank streamer, the Academy wants them to know how to speak into a camera without accidentally starting an international incident."

"That sounds depressingly reasonable." Matt thought about it.

"I figured most beginners just learned in F-ranks unless they were serious enough to go professional."

"A lot do." Rick took a drink.

"You can also learn to drive without taking lessons. Doesn't make lessons useless."

"Fair."

"School doesn't make them strong," Rick continued.

"The System doesn't care about diplomas. You still have to level like everybody else."

"So what's the point?" Rick gave him a look.

"It makes them less stupid." Matt laughed. Rick didn't.

"Seriously. Bad equipment, bad builds, panicking, chasing Bosses they shouldn't, using the last Portal Scroll and then going deeper anyway. If somebody charges thirty grand a year to teach eighteen-year-olds not to do that, parents pay it."

"That does sound valuable."

"Exactly." Matt watched the Academy group. They seemed less like fantasy adventurers and more like a college sports team on the road.

"So do all of them have trailers?" Rick nearly choked on his beer.

"Hell no."

"No?"

"You know what that bus is for?"

"Driving?"

"Good. You're learning." Most Academy programs, Rick explained, ran a regional circuit with around twenty students, a couple of instructors, a coach bus, and an equipment truck. They stayed in hotels, took the bus to the Dungeon, then moved on to the next state when the course said they were done. Matt pictured it.

"World's most dangerous field trip."

"That is exactly what it is."

"Hotels have to love that."

"They do. Whole chains have Delver Academy rates now." Matt looked around the Camp.

"And the trailers?"

"Usually private Delvers." Rick paused.

"Or prospects."

"Prospects?"

"Academy stars." Rick nodded toward the students. Schools needed strong graduation numbers, famous alumni, and sponsor deals. A student with a powerful Unique Skill was an investment opportunity as much as a trainee. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"What counts as strong?"

"Combat B-rank gets attention." Matt slowly reached for his coffee.

"A B-rank kid might get dedicated training, a better Gear allowance, sometimes even their own high-end trailer so they don't have to live out of hotel rooms with everybody else."

"Seriously?"

"Very."

"What about A-rank?" Rick grinned.

"A-rank gets put on the brochure." He took another drink.

"Maybe they name a building after them." Matt stared into his coffee. B-rank got a luxury trailer. A-rank got a building. He was increasingly pleased that SSS was sitting quietly in a classified government file instead of on his public profile. He imagined every corporate recruiter in the country somehow locating G-214. No thanks. Rick glanced over.

"So you're running Black Hollow?"

"Yeah."

"Solo?"

"So far."

"Newbie?"

"Extremely." Rick looked thoughtful.

"You should run with a party." Matt paused.

"Party as in a System party?"

"No."

"No?"

"There's no party menu or shared HUD," Rick said.

"People just agree to run together and hit the same monsters." Matt had seen groups inside the Dungeon. He simply hadn't thought much about the mechanics.

"Better money?"

"Worse." The answer came so fast that Matt laughed.

"That was immediate."

"Because it's true." Rick grabbed a napkin and borrowed a pen from the waitress station.

"If three people participate in a kill, basic loot gets divided between the people who fought. But that isn't the number that matters." He drew one large circle.

"You solo. You find a monster pack, walk over, fight it, maybe take a hit, reset, loot, then walk again." He drew four dots around a second circle.

"Four-man group? One person holds the front, somebody kills from range, somebody handles crowd control, somebody covers mistakes. You clear more monsters, faster." Rick tapped the napkin.

"You don't compare what one rat paid."

"You compare what you killed in an hour." Matt looked at the sketch. That was a much more familiar concept. Damage per second. Clear speed. Income per hour. The Dungeon was starting to sound less like an adventure and more like a very physical optimization problem.

"And parties are safer," Rick added.

"Obviously."

"Not always obvious to twenty-year-olds." The Atlantic Academy table behind them became suddenly louder. Someone had apparently stolen someone else's fries. Matt ignored it.

"So how do people find parties?" Rick pointed at Matt's phone.

"Black Hollow app." Matt opened it. He had downloaded the Camp utility app earlier for parking registration but hadn't explored it. Rick guided him toward a tab. GROUP BOARD Hundreds of listings appeared. Lv2 Warrior — LF Beginner Run — No Boss Rush Need Mage — Instance 148 — Boss Alive Lv3-5 — Fast Clear — Loot Sell/Split Two Slots — Academy Students OK Casual Run — First Timers Welcome Matt scrolled.

"People just join strangers?"

"All the time."

"That seems risky."

"You talk first." Rick tapped the screen.

"Especially this part." Some listings included: LOOT RULES: SELL & SPLIT BOSS DROP: BUYOUT ALLOWED NO UNIQUE CLAIM PRIORITY Matt looked over.

"Boss loot?"

"That's where parties matter most." Rick set the pen down.

"Black Hollow has one Old Foreman per Instance. If the board says Boss Alive, every group entering that Instance can see it."

"So everybody races for it."

"The groups that care do." A casual team might ignore it. Another might be teaching somebody. Another might be farming Stone Beetles. And one group might run like their mortgage depended on killing the Foreman first. Matt pictured his first morning, when he had carefully fought one Cave Rat at a time.

"So a fast party gets there first."

"Exactly."

"And that's why movement matters."

"We're getting there." Rick smiled. Bosses could drop better Mana Stones, Rare equipment, Skill Gems, and—rarely—Unique Items. Matt leaned on the counter.

"And if one sword drops for four people?" Rick's smile widened.

"There you go."

"The System doesn't duplicate it?"

"No."

"Then how do you split it equally?"

"You split the value." By default, Rick explained, everyone who participated had an equal claim on the drop's value even though the item itself remained one physical item. Groups agreed beforehand whether to sell and split the cash, let one person buy out the others, rotate claims, use a random draw, or follow standing team rules.

"That's why group listings tell you the loot policy." Matt looked back at the board. Several posts now made much more sense. Rick's expression turned a shade harder.

"Never walk into a Boss fight with strangers before agreeing on what happens if something valuable drops."

"People fight?"

"Usually with words." A pause.

"Usually." Matt raised an eyebrow. Rick shrugged.

"Camp Security's pretty good. You throw punches over an F-rank sword, you'll get tossed out before the bruise fades."

"So don't."

"Exactly." Rick took another sip.

"Don't ruin your life over beginner loot." Matt nodded, but his thoughts had already shifted elsewhere. A party meant hours beside several other Delvers actively using their Unique Skills. From Matt's perspective, that had value no loot split could measure. Rick was still talking.

"Even if you plan to stay solo, run with somebody experienced at least a few times."

"Why?"

"You'll learn more in one afternoon than watching fifty hours of footage." Matt believed that. Especially if the afternoon also happened to fill his Archive.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Good." Matt finished the last of his fries, then hesitated.

"Since you're giving out free advice…" Rick groaned.

"Dangerous sentence."

"I hit Level Two this morning."

"Warrior?"

"Yeah."

"Weapon?"

"Longsword." Rick didn't hesitate.

"Cleave." Matt blinked.

"That fast?"

"Cleave."

"No follow-up questions?"

"You're Level Two, Warrior, sword, and currently fighting F-rank packs one monster at a time. You need an area attack." Rick pulled out his phone and brought up the public Skill Gem database. Cleave was a basic Sword-or-Axe attack that swung through an arc in front of the user, allowing one attack to hit multiple targets. Matt looked at Rick.

"So, in video game terms, area attack?"

"Pretty much." Rick made a broad motion with one hand.

"Everything in front of you has a worse afternoon."

"Simple."

"Simple is good." Rick retrieved his phone.

"How'd you fight this morning?"

"One at a time."

"Exactly." He pointed the phone at Matt like an accusation.

"That stops being cute when you turn a corner and there are eight things waiting." Matt remembered the single Cave Rat hitting his shin. Eight sounded less amusing.

"Cleave gives you space. Kill several at once, or hurt enough of them that you aren't surrounded."

"It's not flashy?"

"No."

"Fine."

"Not rare."

"Better."

"Cheap."

"Best thing you've said so far." Rick laughed.

"Second one." He pulled up another entry. LEAP SLAM Type: Movement / Attack Skill Gem Leap toward a targeted location and strike the ground on arrival, dealing damage to enemies around the landing point. Useful for rapid movement, engagement, escape, and crossing terrain. Mana Cost: Higher than basic attacks. Matt read the description.

"A jumping attack."

"No." Matt looked up.

"It attacks when you land."

"Movement Skill," Rick said.

"That happens to attack. You're focusing on the wrong part."

"You planning to jog everywhere?"

"I was?"

"Don't." Matt frowned.

"…Why?" Rick looked completely serious.

"Because walking is wasted time." Matt waited. No punchline. Rick reached for another napkin.

"You clear a group. Next pack is thirty seconds away. You walk there, kill them, then spend another thirty seconds walking to the next pack. Do that a hundred times." Matt thought about it.

"Fifty minutes."

"Congratulations." Rick lifted his beer.

"You spent almost an hour accomplishing nothing."

"Walking isn't nothing."

"Did anything die?"

"No."

"Did anything drop?"

"No."

"Then nothing." Matt laughed.

"That seems aggressive."

"It's efficient." Rick counted on his fingers.

"Kill faster. Move faster. Find the next pack faster. Loot faster. Get to the Boss faster."

"That's the job." Matt remembered high-level Dungeon videos: Delvers charging through corridors with huge leaps, teleports, dashes, and abilities firing nonstop.

"So that's why everyone in high-level videos moves like they're allergic to the floor." Rick grinned.

"Exactly." Matt looked at the Leap Slam listing again. He had assumed the attack was the point. It wasn't. The point was skipping the space between fights.

"What about Mana?"

"That's why I wouldn't tell a Level Two to use it like a pogo stick." Matt knew his Mana was fifty-three. Rick nodded when he told him.

"At your level, use movement Skills when they matter. Cross terrain, escape, jump onto a ranged monster, fix a bad position. Later, when you've got more Mana and recovery, you can use them more often." Matt put his phone down.

"So Cleave first."

"Leap Slam later."

"If I like them." Rick stared at him.

"You've spent fifteen minutes telling me to use them."

"Advice isn't scripture." Rick wiped a small beer ring off the counter.

"You'll meet guys online who say there is one correct Warrior build."

"They're idiots."

"Everybody's different. Stats, equipment, Unique Skill, party, Dungeon, preference." Rick pointed toward Matt.

"The best Skill isn't the one with the highest number on some forum."

"It's the one that fits the build you're actually making." Matt went still for a moment. His Unique Skill. His build. Anchored Step could hold him in place against knockback. Sure Grip could keep his weapon in his hands. Cleave could punish a group once he held position. And those were only the first few pieces he had found. COPY wasn't just a collection ability. It was a build engine.

Every new Unique Skill could become another component—defense, movement, damage, utility, healing, or something weird nobody had ever thought to combine with a Warrior. Matt's mind started moving faster. Rick couldn't possibly know just how relevant the advice was. A loud voice from the Academy booths interrupted him.

"Our instructor says Boss attempts tomorrow." Another student groaned.

"Great. Mason's team will get there first again."

"Then stop whining and move faster."

"He has a B-rank movement Unique!" Matt glanced over. Three students were arguing over plates of fries. One girl threw up her hands.

"He literally skips half the tunnel."

"That's not a fair race." An instructor at the next booth said without looking up from his food:"Dungeons aren't fair." The table went quiet. Rick tilted his head toward them.

"There." Matt lowered his voice.

"Luxury trailer kid?"

"Probably."

"You don't know who Mason is."

"Nope."

"Then why probably?" Rick took another drink.

"There's always one." Matt smiled. But the conversation stuck with him. A B-rank movement Skill could apparently decide who reached a Boss first. He remembered Bennett's Blink Step. COPY had rejected it. For now. Matt took another drink of coffee. Still perfect. Rick checked the time, then finished his beer.

"You going back in?" Matt asked.

"Hell no."

"Because you've been drinking?" Rick looked offended.

"Because I already worked six hours." Matt glanced at the clock.

"It's not even two."

"Started at five-thirty." Matt paused.

"Why?"

"Fresh Instances. Early crowd hits the Gate before breakfast—fewer people, more Bosses alive."

"And then you drink at lunch."

"Civilization." Matt laughed.

"How long have you been doing this?" Rick paused.

"Twelve years."

"That long?"

"Long enough to remember when this Camp was gravel, generators, portable toilets, and one food truck selling terrible hot dogs." He glanced around the diner.

"Now I can finish a six-hour Dungeon run and get a cold beer with fries." Rick lifted the empty glass.

"Progress." Matt looked around again. The packed diner, Academy bus, Boss photographs, Camp app, and live loot market all existed around something that had appeared only fifteen years ago. An entire culture had grown up around the Dungeons. Rick dropped cash onto the counter.

"See you around, newbie."

"Thanks."

"For?"

"Probably saving me a lot of pointless walking." Rick laughed.

"You'll still do plenty." He started toward the door, then pointed at Matt without turning around.

"Party up at least once."

"I'll think about it."

"And don't die." Matt sighed.

"Everybody keeps saying that." Rick pushed the door open.

"Because it's excellent advice." The bell jingled behind him. Matt finished his coffee, swapped Perfect Temperature back out for Sure Grip, and paid, Camp Pass discount and all. When he stepped outside again, he had a destination. ◆ BLACK HOLLOW GEAR & GEM The store sat between a laundry service and a potion supplier. Compared with the massive Delver Outfitters Matt had visited that morning, it was tiny, but this wasn't a general-purpose chain.

Everything inside was focused on Black Hollow: Level One through Ten weapons, beginner armor, Portal Scrolls, Life Flasks, used equipment, and monster-material crafting supplies. A large board near the counter listed the equipment most commonly purchased after specific Black Hollow drops. And in the center of the store— Skill Gems. Glass cases glowed with red, blue, green, white, and purple light. Gems of different shapes and sizes filled the displays, some cheap and some very much not.

Matt approached a public terminal and entered his filters. Job: Warrior Level: 2 Weapon: Sword Dozens of results appeared. He immediately spotted Cleave. But then his eyes wandered. HEAVY STRIKE Type: Attack Skill Gem Required Level: 2 Weapon Requirement: Melee Weapon Mana Cost: 3 Effect Deliver a concentrated melee strike with increased single-target impact and knockback.

"Boss Skill," Matt murmured.

"More or less." Matt looked up. The clerk behind the counter was a young woman with a bright blue streak in her hair. She had apparently been watching him browse.

"Good if you need one thing to regret standing in front of you," she continued.

"Bad if there are six things."

"That's what somebody told me." Matt closed the entry. Next. GUARD STANCE Type: Defensive Skill Gem Required Level: 2 Effect Temporarily increase defensive effectiveness while reducing movement speed.

"That sounds safe."

"It is." Matt looked over.

"Then why isn't it higher on the recommended list?"

"Movement penalty." He waited. She shrugged.

"People hate moving slower." Matt thought about Rick.

"Of course they do." Next. CHARGING SLASH Type: Attack / Movement Skill Gem Required Level: 2 Weapon Requirement: Sword Effect Rush a short distance toward a targeted enemy and perform a slashing attack on arrival. Matt read it twice.

"So halfway between damage and movement."

"Basically."

"Why use that instead of Leap Slam?"

"Different build, lower commitment, different Mana, different terrain." She shrugged.

"Some people like swords and hate jumping."

"Fair." He returned to Cleave. There were plenty more—Shield Bash, Counter, a short-duration defensive reinforcement Skill, a basic ranged weapon projection for melee fighters. Matt could have spent an hour reading. He understood now why Rick had answered so quickly. The problem wasn't a lack of options. It was too many options. Matt compared numbers, requirements, Mana costs, and use cases until he realized the clerk was still looking at him.

"What?"

"First Skill Gem?" Matt sighed.

"Is it that obvious?"

"You've been comparing Level Two Commons for eleven minutes."

"Nobody experienced does that?"

"Experienced people already know which argument they're going to have with themselves before they walk in."

"…Fair." Matt brought Cleave back up.

"New Warrior. Longsword."

"Cleave?"

"Can't go very wrong." Exactly what Rick had said. The clerk pulled up the full listing. CLEAVE Skill Gem Type: Attack Required Level: 2 Weapon Requirement: Axe or Sword Attribute Requirement: STR / DEX Mana Cost: 4 Effect Swing your equipped weapon in a broad arc, striking all valid targets within the attack area in front of you. When dual-wielding, both equipped weapons are used as part of the attack. Matt focused on the Mana cost. Four. His total was fifty-three.

Thirteen casts from full if he somehow had zero recovery. Not bad.

"How much?"

"Hundred fifty."

"That cheap?"

"Common Level Two Gem." She opened the case.

"Black Hollow spits these out constantly." The physical Cleave Gem was a deep crimson crystal about the size of an almond. Light moved faintly inside it.

"Used?"

"Technically."

"Does that matter?"

"Gems don't wear out."

"So no."

"So no." Matt pulled out his card.

"One-fifty." The payment cleared. His first Dungeon run had earned a little over fifty dollars. Three average runs to buy one fundamental Skill Gem. That actually felt surprisingly reasonable. He accepted the sealed vial containing Cleave. Then his attention shifted farther along the glass display. A separate section carried a different sign. SUPPORT GEMS Matt stopped. Rows of smaller Gems sat beneath it. He leaned closer.

"What do those do?"

"Modify active Skills." Matt immediately looked back at the Cleave vial.

"How?"

"Depends on the Support. More damage, larger area, different effects, lower Mana cost, faster attacks. Lots of things." Matt's attention sharpened.

"So I can put one on Cleave?"

"No." The answer was immediate. Matt looked up.

"No?"

"You don't have a Support Socket."

"How do I get one?"

"Socket expansion item. Dungeon drop or buy one."

"Expensive?"

"At your level?" The clerk smiled.

"Expensive enough that I'm not going to talk you into buying one before you've even used Cleave." Matt looked back at the Support Gem case.

"So the Skill needs a Support Socket before a Support Gem can be attached."

"Right." Matt stared through the glass for another second. There were dozens. He could already see where this was going.

"Oh, that's dangerous."

"For your wallet?" Matt shook his head.

"For my free time." The clerk laughed.

"Yeah. That too." He bookmarked the category. Not today. He couldn't even use them yet. But now he knew they existed. That was enough to make the future considerably more complicated. Matt looked at Leap Slam again. He had plenty of money. More than enough to buy it. But only one active Skill Gem slot. Buying two Skills when he could only use one was exactly the kind of thing he'd told himself he wouldn't do. He added Leap Slam to his Watch List instead.

"One thing at a time." The clerk handed him the Cleave vial.

"Practice room's in back."

"Rental weapons?"

"By the door." Matt shook his head.

"I want to test it with mine."

"Your sword's at Camp?"

"Yeah."

"Five minutes?"

"About." The clerk nodded.

"See you in ten." Matt turned toward the door. Three steps later, Rick's voice appeared in his head. Walking is wasted time. Matt looked through the storefront window at the road back toward G-sector. Then laughed quietly.

"Apparently I'm losing money right now." ◆ Ten minutes later, Matt returned carrying his longsword. The clerk looked at him.

"You actually went back."

"I paid for the sword. I want to know what the Skill feels like with the sword."

"Fair." She led him through a door behind the counter. The practice room was larger than Matt expected, with padded walls, a reinforced floor, Mana shielding, and three humanoid training dummies arranged in a shallow semicircle. Each dummy was made from Dungeon-origin wood reinforced by thick iron bands. Matt drew his longsword, then took the Cleave Gem out of its vial. The moment the crystal touched his palm, the System reacted. SKILL GEM DETECTED Cleave Compatible Skill Gem Slot available. Socket Cleave?

[YES] / [NO] Matt selected Yes. The crystal brightened, then dissolved into tiny red points of light that flowed into his palm and disappeared. SOCKET COMPLETE Skill Gem Slot 1: Cleave Something changed. Matt didn't suddenly know swordsmanship, gain perfect form, or acquire ten years of combat experience. But there was a new function in his mind. He understood how to push Mana into it, how to call the Skill, and where the System would take over.

It was like installing a new movement his body had never practiced but somehow recognized. Matt stared at the sword.

"Weird."

"Everybody says that." The clerk stepped behind a yellow line.

"Try a normal swing first." Matt approached the center dummy. He swung. The longsword struck wood with a heavy crack. One dummy moved. Only one.

"Again," the clerk said.

"But this time use Cleave." Matt checked his Mana. 53 / 53 He took position, both hands on the hilt, three targets in front of him. He focused. Cleave. Mana moved through something deeper than muscle. The longsword swept outward, a faint red arc following the blade as the System guided the shape of the attack. One broad horizontal cut. All three dummies rocked backward. Matt stopped. Mana: 49 / 53 He looked at the targets, then his sword.

"…Oh." The clerk leaned against the wall.

"Yep." Matt smiled.

"That's nice."

"That's why everybody buys it." His normal swing had struck one target. Cleave had turned the same general motion into an area attack. Matt reset.

"Again?"

"Go for it." Cleave. Red arc. Three impacts. Mana: 45 / 53 The second cast felt smoother—not easier exactly, just more familiar. Matt could also feel the missing Mana now, a slight hollow sensation in his chest. Not quite exhaustion, but something adjacent to it. He lowered the sword.

"So Mana actually feels like something."

"Once you've spent enough to notice." Matt watched the number tick upward over the next several seconds. Mana: 46 / 53"Regeneration."

"Slow at low level." A little later: 47 / 53"Gear can improve it?"

"Gear, Skills, Supports, stats depending on the build." She smiled.

"There are whole builds designed around making Mana somebody else's problem." Matt laughed.

"Of course there are." The clerk walked over to the dummies and dragged the left one several feet farther away. The formation was wider now.

"Again." Matt looked at the spacing.

"Testing range?"

"Testing whether you think 'area attack' means 'hit the whole room.'" Matt positioned himself. Cleave. The sword swept. The center dummy shook. The right one shook. The left one— nothing. Matt stopped.

"Too far."

"Yep." The clerk pointed at the untouched dummy.

"It's an arc."

"Not divine judgment." Matt laughed.

"Good to know."

"Positioning, facing, and range still matter. The Skill makes the attack possible." She pointed at him.

"It doesn't play the game for you." Matt looked at the three dummies. That made him like the System more, not less. Cleave wasn't a magic button that erased everything nearby. It was a tool. One he needed to learn. He tried again from a slightly different position, adjusting his stance and angle. Cleave. All three dummies shook. Matt nodded.

"There."

"Exactly." He lowered the sword.

"I see why he recommended it."

"Who?"

"Guy drinking beer at lunch." The clerk snorted.

"That does not narrow it down." Matt laughed. Then he glanced at a monitor on the wall. A promotional video was cycling through common Skill Gems. The image changed. A Warrior launched himself fifteen feet forward and slammed into the ground hard enough to throw a shockwave across the floor, then immediately did it again. And again. He moved through the Dungeon corridor in a sequence of violent, ridiculous leaps. Matt stared.

"Leap Slam?"

"Yep."

"That looks ridiculous."

"It's fast." The Delver on-screen cleared a broken mine cart, landed, and immediately launched onto a raised platform. Matt folded his arms.

"It still looks ridiculous."

"Still fast." He remembered Rick. Walking is wasted time. Matt watched the video for another few seconds, then looked at his single Skill Gem slot. Cleave. For now.

"One thing at a time." ◆ By the time Matt got back to G-214, the afternoon sun had lowered enough to throw long shadows between the trailers. His neighbor was outside again, cleaning a large axe. He looked up as Matt passed.

"Shopping?"

"Skill Gem."

"What'd you get?"

"Cleave." The man nodded approvingly.

"Hard to screw that one up."

"That is apparently the universal review."

"Because it's true." Matt unlocked his trailer, then paused.

"Hey." The neighbor looked over.

"Yeah?"

"People around here party with strangers often?"

"All the time."

"Anything I should know?"

"Talk loot before you go in." That made two experienced Delvers saying the same thing.

"Got it." Matt went inside, closed the door, set the sword beside the bed, then sat at his desk. His Mana had fully recovered. He opened his Status only long enough to confirm the change he actually cared about. Skill Gem Slot 1: Cleave The empty line was gone. It shouldn't have felt as satisfying as it did. Matt leaned back and opened a blank document on his computer. He typed: DUNGEON LOADOUT Job — Warrior Weapon — Longsword Main Skill — Cleave COPY — Anchored Step / Sure Grip Then another heading.

CAMP / UTILITY Perfect Temperature Matt looked at the division and nodded. Perfect Temperature contributed absolutely nothing to combat. That did not make it useless. It simply meant he should stop confusing "useful" with "needs to remain equipped while monsters are trying to bite me." Matt swapped Sure Grip out long enough to correct the temperature of the coffee he had brought back from the diner, took a sip, then restored the combat loadout.

"Stays." Just not in the Dungeon slot. Then he looked at the combat combination. Sure Grip could protect his weapon against disarming force. Anchored Step could resist knockback. Cleave could punish groups once he held position. Already there were combinations. Simple ones, but combinations. Matt created another heading. NEXT GOALS Test Cleave in Black Hollow Find more combat Unique Skills Get first Skill Gem drop Try a party Get a movement Skill Figure out Support Sockets The Support Gem case came back to him.

Cleave wasn't necessarily finished just because he owned it. Later, he could add Support Sockets and alter the Skill with more damage, a larger area, lower Mana cost, faster execution, or something stranger. And that was one Skill. One. Matt looked at what he had now: three copied Unique Skills, one Skill Gem, one Common sword, beginner armor, and Level Two. Practically the bottom of the System. And he was already thinking about combinations. Rick had been right.

A Dungeon wasn't just somewhere you walked into and killed things. It was an optimization problem. Every Unique Skill Matt copied could become another component. Every Skill Gem was another tool, every item changed the numbers, every Support could alter a Skill, and every Job affected how all of those pieces fit together. COPY meant his pool of possible pieces could eventually become absurd. Matt stared at the document, then slowly smiled.

"Okay." What hooked him wasn't only the fighting or the loot. It was the planning—the question of what happened when one piece met another. Some completely useless-looking F-rank Unique Skill might become ridiculous when paired with the right Gem. That thought alone could probably keep him occupied for years. Matt looked through the small window over the sink. The cobalt glow of the Black Hollow Gate was visible beyond rows of trailers. People still walked toward it. Others returned.

A coach bus bearing the Atlantic Delver Academy logo rolled slowly along one of the Camp roads toward the hotel shuttle area. Somewhere inside, a group of students was probably arguing about how to beat Mason to the Boss tomorrow. Matt looked back at his own Level. Two. There would be time for B-rank Skills later.

"Eventually." Tomorrow was simpler. This morning, Matt had entered Black Hollow with a sword and almost no idea what he was doing. Now he had a Job, his first Skill Gem, three copied Unique Skills, and a growing list of build problems he actually wanted to solve. And an experienced Delver had informed him that putting one foot in front of the other was apparently a tragic inefficiency. Apparently, even getting from one monster to the next was part of the build. Matt took another sip of perfectly warm coffee.

Tomorrow, he would test Cleave against something that could actually bite him, look for more Unique Skills, and maybe check the Group Board. And ideally— he glanced at yesterday's Dungeon earnings. $50. 07 —make considerably more than fifty dollars doing it.