In his memories, the Dungeon-world Genichi had once carried real hope for the adventurer's path.
He believed joining a familia meant finding a home. He believed effort would earn respect.
The dark familia shattered those illusions in the cruelest way possible.
He was deceived, imprisoned, treated like a living punching bag.
In those days, the same few faces rotated in and out. Their fists and boots landed on him with the sick pleasure of malice. Ribs snapped. Organs bled. When his vision went hazy and his mind started to slip, they would dump cold water on him to wake him up and force him back into "sparring."
No one cared about his screams. All they cared about was how to squeeze the last scrap of entertainment out of his broken body.
Until he was finally worthless.
Then they threw him away like trash into some dark corner to wait for death.
And then, the light of the arena swallowed him. It also gave him rebirth.
Now the abusers were right in front of him, howling and trembling with fear.
Genichi showed no mercy.
His long blade cut through the air. Clean and efficient, it severed Scarface's wrist tendons. In the same flowing motion, the blade dropped, chopping straight across the waistline where those ugly scars ran, cutting through with a single brutal stroke.
The movement was smooth, with nothing wasted.
Scum who had once enjoyed tormenting the weak in his memories were now as fragile as lambs waiting for slaughter in the face of real killing intent.
The bald man tried to fight back. His cheap longsword rose halfway, and Genichi kicked in.
A foot slammed into the knee. Bone broke. The man screamed and collapsed to his knees.
The one-eyed brute tried to run.
Genichi flicked a short knife. It punched through the ankle and pinned him to the stone floor.
In the blink of an eye, four violent predators were all dropped and controlled, forced down and helpless.
They might have been Lv.2, but compared to a "beyond-spec" Lv.2 like Genichi, the gap was a chasm.
If Genichi wanted, those strikes could have harvested their lives immediately.
But he didn't.
Killing them that easily would be letting them off too lightly.
Genichi walked over to Scarface and looked down at the man's twisted face, locked tight from pain.
He crouched. His tone was calm, like he was commenting on the weather.
"I won't kill you."
A spark of hope flashed in Scarface's eyes.
Genichi's next words crushed it into dust.
"I'm going to find a jar and put you in it."
He paused, as if genuinely considering the details.
"Some floors in the Dungeon produce high-quality crystal. Transparent. Tough. I'll stop the bleeding at your severed limbs, pack all four of you into a jar, leave only your heads outside. Every day I'll feed you liquid food and keep you 'nice and healthy.'"
He tilted his head, gaze sweeping over the four faces warped by despair and terror. A nearly gentle curve lifted his lips.
"I'll keep you alive for a long, long time. And every day, every minute, every second, you'll regret ever surviving."
The sincerity and ease in his voice carried more crushing pressure than any roar.
The last thread of luck snapped inside them.
They weren't facing an ordinary adventurer. They were facing something that could drag hell into reality.
And then.
A needle of cold stabbed into the back of Genichi's neck. Every hair on his body stood up. His muscles tightened instantly.
No hesitation.
He spun, raising his longsword horizontally in front of his chest.
The next instant, a green figure swept in like a gale.
Clang!
The shriek of metal-on-metal exploded through the Dungeon passage.
A tidal, overwhelming force surged through the blade into Genichi's arms. It felt like taking a head-on hit from a rampaging dragon-carriage.
His feet left the ground. He flew like a snapped kite and slammed hard into the rock wall several meters away.
"Cough…!"
A mouthful of blood rose in his throat and spilled from the corner of his lips.
Fire spread through his back where he'd struck. His arms trembled from taking that monstrous blow. His grip split open, blood running down the hilt and dripping off.
Genichi lifted his head, finally seeing the attacker clearly.
Pale-gold hair. Long, pointed ears unique to elves. A breathtakingly beautiful face, now cold as ice. Emerald eyes with no emotion at all, only pure, almost solidified killing intent.
Ryuu Lion.
Once the ace adventurer of the Astrea Familia, a genius spoken of alongside the Sword Princess.
Then the Astrea Familia was wiped out by the dark faction's scheme. The survivor became a "revenge wraith," moving through the Dungeon's shadows for five years, hunting dark faction members alone, without restraint, without care for consequences.
Genichi's heart thundered.
Damn it.
Why here. Why now. Why this woman, the worst kind of trouble.
His mind raced, pushing the most likely explanation into place.
Astrea Familia people were "fools," or maybe it was the justice goddess's teachings that had planted an almost obsessive moral code into them.
What Ryuu Lion had seen was this: a strange adventurer chopping the limbs off four people who had already lost the ability to resist, then calmly declaring he would trap them in jars and keep them alive in misery.
From her perspective, it looked exactly like dark faction internal black-on-black punishment. Or simply the work of a wanted criminal.
So she struck, and her target was Genichi.
"Those people…"
Genichi tried to explain.
Ryuu Lion didn't give him the chance.
Her sword thrust again, simple, sharp, and lethal.
No questioning. No trial. Only the pure act of cutting.
Five years of revenge had trained her into silence. She didn't need to hear an abuser's excuses. She only needed to send them to hell.
"They're dark faction adventurers!"
Genichi raised his sword in a rushed block, forcing out half the sentence.
The impact smashed into him again. He staggered backward, his spine slamming into the rock wall.
Ryuu Lion's sword never slowed.
Her eyes remained icy, and the disgust in them only deepened.
To her, dark faction members killing each other was nothing unusual. That wasn't a reason to be spared.
If anything, Genichi's cruelty toward prisoners was even more revolting than a simple robbery-and-murder.
She'd seen too much.
The dark faction never lacked for torturers.
Genichi cursed inside his head.
He understood the meaning in her gaze.
She didn't believe him.
Or she didn't care.
In her eyes, he was the abuser. No different from the filth wailing on the ground. All of it needed to be erased.
There was no room for negotiation.
This was Ryuu Lion in her "revenge wraith" state.
No judgment. No listening. Only killing.
Another sword cut came down.
Genichi twisted with everything he had. He rolled with the motion, barely opening a sliver of distance, thoughts flashing like lightning.
What now?
The path of explanation was completely blocked.
Fight head-on?
Ryuu Lion was Lv.4. Even if she hadn't leveled in years, her technique and experience dwarfed his. Those first two strikes clearly weren't her full power, yet he'd already been pushed near his limit.
Run?
She specialized in speed. The Dungeon was her home ground. Five years of hunting had made her intimately familiar with middle-floor terrain. He was injured. How far could he really get?
Or.
There was another option.
Genichi wiped the blood from his lip, and a glint of arctic sharpness passed through his eyes.
Ryuu Lion wasn't dark faction.
She was an important figure in the original story, the last ember of justice, a key future member of that "rabbit" hero's inner circle.
Killing her meant a total break with Orario's "justice" side. It meant Astrea's hostility. It meant endless chain reactions.
But.
What if she refused to stop?
What if she insisted on ending him here?
What if his life and her life demanded a choice, right now?
Genichi slowly straightened. He stopped dodging his gaze. He stopped trying to explain.
His breathing steadied. His eyes grew colder and colder.
"One last time."
His voice was low, flat, without sorrow or joy. "Those four are dark faction. Believe it or don't."
Her sword tip lifted again toward his throat. Silent. Final.
Genichi let out a quiet sigh.
"Understood."
(End of Chapter)
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