When Suzuki's bespoke-suited figure vanished entirely into the pitch-black abyss, the silence on the bridge was absolute.
There was no cheering for the Behemoth's defeat. Everything they had built over the past two weeks—the fragile relief, the tactical coordination, the absolute certainty that they would make it home safely—had just been violently shattered in a matter of seconds.
Their leader, the only man who had commanded them with perfection, who trusted them as vital assets rather than treating them like fragile cheerleaders to be protected by a "Hero," was gone.
"SUZUKI!"
The heartbroken, shattered screams of Kaori and Shizuku echoed through the cavern. Both girls instinctively lunged toward the crumbling edge of the abyss, desperately trying to throw themselves into the dark after him.
But naturally, their classmates didn't let them.
"Stop! Stop!"
"Someone help me hold her!"
Sonobe Yuka, arguably the most physically reliable girl in the vanguard besides Shizuku, moved with desperate speed to wrap her arms around Shizuku's waist, dragging the Swordmaster back from the edge.
"Let go of me! Let me go!" Shizuku thrashed wildly, her incredible physical strength nearly breaking Yuka's hold.
"We need help over here!" Nana shouted, rushing forward alongside several other girls to help Yuka pin the hysterical Swordmaster to the ground.
Fortunately, Kaori was significantly physically weaker. Despite her desperate struggling, Suzu Taniguchi was able to tackle the Priestess, clinging to her tightly.
"Ericchi, help me hold her!" Suzu cried, tears streaming down her own face.
"A-Ah, yes!" Eri Nakamura quickly rushed forward, helping Suzu pull the sobbing Kaori away from the precipice.
As the girls wrestled Kaori and Shizuku to the ground, the reality of the situation finally crashed down on the rest of the class.
The rearguard—the mages who had shone so brilliantly just moments ago—stared at their trembling hands in terrified awe. For weeks, they had been told they were just squishy support characters. They were supposed to stand in the back, cast minor debuffs, and let the Hero do the actual fighting.
But today? Who was the real burden?
Suzu, Kentarou, Shiori, Nana, and Sakura realized that in less than a minute, Suzuki had weaponized their seemingly mundane utility skills into a flawless, environmental meat grinder. Without casting a single explosion or swinging a blade, they were the ones who had humiliated and executed a labyrinth boss.
Suzu dropped to her knees beside Kaori, unable to stop her tears. She didn't just cry out of grief; she cried out of a deep, terrifying realization that without Suzuki's mind anchoring them, they were utterly defenseless against the horrors of this world.
Yet, among all of them, the one experiencing the most violent psychological reaction was Kouki Amanogawa.
The "Hero" stood completely frozen at the front of the formation, his glowing holy sword falling uselessly to the stone floor with a dull clatter.
His entire identity was built on the delusion that he was the shining vanguard who protected everyone. But when the Behemoth charged, Kouki had been completely useless. Suzuki had bypassed him entirely, orchestrated a perfect kill using "cowardly" terrain tactics, and then sacrificed himself to save the weakest member of the class.
Kouki's ego was completely short-circuited. He had failed to lead. He had failed to protect. A non-combatant Merchant had proven infinitely more capable and heroic than the fabled Hero. It was a crushing psychological blow.
Yet... yet...
Kouki stared at the empty space where Suzuki had fallen. Suzuki is gone now. He's no longer here.
At that dark thought, a slightly distorted, deeply sickening smile spread across Kouki's face. He lowered his gaze to hide it, suddenly realizing that Suzuki's disappearance brought him an overwhelming sense of joy and relief. The only man capable of challenging his authority was dead. The leader's position was entirely his again.
Don't worry... don't worry, everyone... I will take care of you now... Kouki muttered to himself, fully succumbing to his hero complex. It is my absolute fate to be the savior of this world!
But while Kouki basked in his delusional victory, another student on the bridge was currently experiencing a fate significantly worse than death.
Because Suzuki had magically amplified his voice to specifically call out Hiyama's name before the explosion, there was absolutely no ambiguity. Every single person on the bridge had seen Hiyama intentionally fire a lethal spell at Nagumo's back.
"HIYAMA, YOU BASTARD!"
Several of the hot-blooded boys in the vanguard grabbed Hiyama by the collar and violently threw him to the ground, ready to beat the absolute life out of him.
But they didn't even need to throw a punch. Hiyama was already completely broken.
He hadn't collapsed out of guilt. He was gasping for air, clawing desperately at his own chest as if his lungs were collapsing. In a blind panic, Hiyama tried to summon a basic fireball to defend himself from the furious, hateful glares of his classmates.
But absolutely nothing happened.
Only a pathetic, microscopic spark fizzled from his fingertips before dying out.
"W-What's happening?!" Hiyama screamed, his voice cracking in absolute terror. "What's wrong with my body?! What did he do to me?! WHAT DID HE DO?!"
"HIYAMA, YOU CRAZY MURDERER!"
None of the students could possibly comprehend that Suzuki had used [Hostile Takeover] to entirely liquidate Hiyama's system status. Hiyama's stats had violently reverted to single digits. He had been permanently stripped of his magic, his growth limit, and his future.
The entire class—the boys, the girls, and even Captain Meld—looked down at the screaming Hiyama with absolute, undisguised disgust. He was exposed as a cowardly, treacherous murderer. Thanks to Suzuki's final, brutal severance package, Hiyama was now the most useless living creature in Tortus. He was entirely ostracized. He was alive, but his life was officially over.
Meanwhile, lying on the safe side of the bridge, Hajime Nagumo was hyperventilating, staring blankly at the dark cavern ceiling.
He was supposed to die. He had felt the blistering heat of the fireball on his skin. But Suzuki grabbed him by the collar and hurled him to a safe location.
In that single, chaotic moment, Nagumo's entire worldview violently shifted. Because he hadn't fallen into the abyss, he wasn't going to be driven insane by starvation and betrayal in the dark. Instead, lying safely on the surface, a cold, burning resolve ignited in his chest.
I have to get stronger, Nagumo thought, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned white. I have to become strong enough to ensure Suzuki's sacrifice wasn't a total waste.
I will definitely bring everyone home...
Nagumo made a silent, unbreakable vow as he stared at the sobbing backs of Kaori and Shizuku. He would dedicate the life Suzuki had given him to protecting the two women Suzuki loved most.
While the majority of the class was entirely focused on restraining the devastated girls, Eri Nakamura stood perfectly still in the backline.
Her hands were clasped tightly over her chest, desperately trying to hide her erratic, pounding heartbeat. She had just watched Suzuki coldly bypass the Hero, flawlessly orchestrate the slaughter of a boss, and then...
What exactly was that? Eri thought, her eyes wide.
Through her acute magical perception as a Necromancer, she had seen it perfectly clearly. Right as Suzuki fell, a massive tether of golden energy had violently ripped out of Hiyama's body and flowed directly into Suzuki's hand. She could clearly see how pathetic and empty Hiyama had become.
In that moment, a dark, brilliant epiphany struck her.
Suzuki Tanaka was hiding a massive secret. His Merchant class wasn't a weak support job; it was something uniquely terrifying. And with that realization, Eri was struck by an absolute, unshakable certainty.
This wasn't an accident. He did this deliberately.
Suzuki hadn't fallen. He had actively, intentionally jumped. But why? Why would he abandon the safety of the group?
Before Eri could unravel the beautiful, twisted mystery of the man she was rapidly becoming obsessed with—
"EVERYONE, LISTEN TO ME!"
Kouki's roar echoed across the bridge, completely shattering the mournful silence.
"WE CANNOT AFFORD TO BE SAD ANY LONGER! WE HAVE TO SURVIVE! I KNOW YOU ARE ALL TERRIFIED, BUT DO NOT WORRY! I WILL LEAD YOU ALL OUT OF THIS DUNGEON, AND WE WILL DEFEAT THE DEMON KING TOGETHER!"
"....."
The entire class stared at Kouki in absolute, horrified disbelief. Did he really just try to give a motivational speech thirty seconds after their true leader died?
Eri's mouth fell open slightly. Well, she thought dryly, if Kouki is in charge now, our lives are officially over.
Kouki, completely blind to the thick, suffocating tension in the room, marched directly toward the sobbing girls.
"Come on, Shizuku! Kaori! You both need to get up! You shouldn't be depressed! We have to move on and save the world! If we don't—"
SMACK!
The sharp, ringing crack of a violent slap echoed across the stone bridge.
"K-Kaori...?" Kouki stammered, holding his rapidly reddening cheek in absolute shock.
Kaori didn't slap him. It was Shizuku.
Shizuku's eyes were still red and brimming with tears, but as she looked up at the "Hero," her gaze was as sharp and cold as a drawn katana.
"Can you just shut the hell up for one minute, Amanogawa?" Shizuku hissed, her voice trembling with pure, unadulterated venom.
"...."
Kouki's mouth hung open. He was completely speechless. He genuinely didn't understand what he had done wrong. He believed Kaori and Shizuku were just hysterical, and he was absolutely certain he could comfort them and solve everything!
Why? Because he was the Hero!
But Kaori and Shizuku completely ignored Kouki's pathetic, delusional confusion. They turned their backs on him, staring down into the pitch-black abyss.
Unlike the rest of the class, who believed Suzuki had bravely sacrificed himself... Shizuku and Kaori knew a vital, deeply comforting secret.
Before the raid, Suzuki had secretly coded their mana signatures to the dimensional lock of his [Subspace Penthouse]. They both still held the metaphysical keys to his private sanctuary. If Suzuki was truly dead, the magic would have dissipated, and the skill would have shattered.
But they could both still vividly feel the warm, humming connection to his penthouse deep within their souls.
He is still alive.
As they stared down into the dark, their tears continued to stream, but a fierce, burning annoyance was rapidly replacing their grief. They both knew exactly what kind of man Suzuki was. A man who fought with such terrifying pragmatism didn't just accidentally fall to his death.
He must have faked his death to escape the toxic workplace of the vanguard! Dealing with Kouki's ego and Hiyama's stupidity was simply too exhausting, so the bastard had decided to take a solo vacation in the abyss!
You absolute devil... Shizuku thought, clutching Kaori's hand tightly. The second you open that penthouse door, we are going to scold you to death.