"Ah—! It hurts!"
"Hold still."
"I can't! It really hurts! Master, you're way too rough—!"
"It'll be out in a second. And stop calling me 'Master.'"
"Huh? Master, are you always this fast—?"
"What nonsense are you spouting? I'm removing a transmitter, not racing you!"
Arthur finally pulled out a tiny, fingernail-sized transmitter from inside Liza's ear. A faint trace of blood followed it. He calmly took a bottle of water, rinsed the device clean, and slipped it into a small cloth pouch.
"Here. Keep it. Don't lose it."
Liza accepted the pouch with a twisted expression, her face pale and miserable. She looked more wronged than if she had burst into tears.
"Um… M-Master… what about my ear…?"
Arthur stared at her, speechless. Just minutes ago she had been a calculating undercover agent; now she was acting like a dramatic child. For a brief second, he genuinely considered kicking her out of the alliance on the spot.
"It hurts so much… I'm not going to bleed out, am I?"
"I finally meet Blank and I die right away? I'd regret it forever!"
She clutched a piece of gauze to her left ear. A faint stain of red had already seeped through.
"Stop exaggerating."
Because he had used a scalpel with precision, the incision was minimal. Most of the blood on the cloth was there because she had been pressing and squeezing it nervously.
"Let go."
Arthur gently pulled her hand away from her ear.
Then, as if producing it from thin air, he took out a small medicinal spray bottle and aimed it at the wound.
A few soft sprays later, the bleeding visibly slowed.
"Huh? Master, it doesn't hurt anymore!"
"It feels cool and tingly… kind of nice…"
"Why are you talking so much?"
Arthur swiftly packed everything away—the gauze, alcohol, basin, and scalpel disappearing as if they had never been there.
"This is a high-grade healing spray. In five to ten minutes, the cut will be completely closed. No scar."
Even though scars wouldn't carry over once they left the instance, that wasn't the point. Mom knew a transmitter had been implanted in Liza's ear. If she later noticed a fresh incision, it would raise unnecessary suspicion.
"Waaah! Master, that's amazing!"
Liza's eyes sparkled, not because her ear was healing, but because she had just watched items vanish into thin air. The calm, calculating traitor from earlier had completely disappeared. In her place was an overly curious chatterbox.
"That's a personal inventory, right?"
"I thought about unlocking that function before, but it's way too expensive! I kept hesitating…"
"I was going to treat myself and activate it if I ever cleared a ten-floor instance!"
"But it's so convenient! Master, how big is yours?"
"You've gotten SSS-rank twice, right? That must mean tons of Reincarnation Points! Is it twenty cubic meters? Fifty?"
"And since you're here, does that mean the legend of SSS-rank is about to start again? Master—"
Arthur abruptly covered her mouth.
Her lips puffed indignantly beneath his hand, but he felt no trace of cuteness, only noise.
"Say it properly. Don't call me Master."
"And don't think flattering me will earn you special treatment."
He released her slowly, gaze steady.
"What you achieve in this instance depends entirely on your own performance. I won't guarantee you any particular evaluation."
"So if you're hoping to ride on my coattails, give up now."
Arthur had long accepted that his identity would attract attention. Power did that. Results did that.
That was why he preferred entering instances with his contractor.
But even that required restraint. If he stayed beside Saeko for every challenge, he would unconsciously shield her from danger and deprive her of growth. That would weaken her in the long run.
After this dungeon, he intended to let her climb independently. He would offer strategic advice when necessary, but unless he specifically needed something from a particular world, he wouldn't hand over perfect-clear solutions.
As for outsiders?
He had even less reason to indulge them.
Liza was here for one reason only: utility.
Her ability had value.
And more importantly...
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly.
If his deductions were correct, then the true condition for a perfect clear in this dungeon might not simply be "survive."
There were twenty-four children in this orphanage.
If escaping the farm with them was indeed a formal objective—
Then the hidden condition was likely even harsher... No one dies.
Then the final evaluation was almost certainly tied to how many children escaped. The completion rating ranged from S to E, six tiers in total, and there were exactly twenty-four children in the orphanage. The symmetry was too deliberate to ignore. Twenty-four divided into six stages. If rescuing at least four children qualified for an E-rank clear, then each higher tier would naturally require more. And to reach S-rank? Every single child would have to escape. Not one missing. Not one dead. Otherwise, the number wouldn't align so perfectly.
Arthur wasn't speculating without basis. While reviewing instance records beforehand, he had noticed something subtle: among the fragmented information shared by previous challengers, whenever numbers were mentioned regarding "successful extractions," they were always divisible by six—six, twelve, eighteen… or zero. That pattern was too consistent to be coincidence. It was practically a hidden hint embedded in plain sight.
What truly gave him a headache, however, wasn't the deduction. It was his choice of ally. His firm warning earlier had done absolutely nothing to dampen Liza's enthusiasm. She did stop calling him "Master," but the overly excited energy remained intact... if anything, it had intensified. She was even more animated than Sophia had been before.
"Oh, right, Ma—" She froze mid-word under Arthur's sharp glare and hastily corrected herself. "—Eren." The way she forced out his name made it sound like she had just swallowed something bitter.
"Hey, Eren, did you guys also take out the transmitters from your ears?"
Arthur gave a small nod. "We removed them yesterday, before you showed up. We've just been keeping them on us."
"Ah!"
Liza suddenly let out a sharp gasp, as if a thought had struck her. She hurriedly pulled the pocket watch from her pocket, staring at it in disbelief.
"Mom's pocket watch that fell on the floor last night… you left that there on purpose, didn't you?"
Arthur turned to her, his expression completely flat. "What do you think?"
"W-wait—no way! Don't tell me you've been playing me from the very beginning!"
"Blame yourself for being careless."
He didn't spare her indignant look a second glance. "And stop talking like that."
"Oh? Talking like what?" Liza tilted her head innocently. "I didn't mean anything strange. Or could it be… Eren, that your thoughts aren't exactly pure?"
Arthur's gaze turned cold. "Do you want me to send you 'home' right now?"
"I'm sorry!!!"