Phong regretted introducing Rico to caffeine.
Deeply.
Profoundly.
"SPEED! I am SPEED!" Rico declared, cackling while vibrating on Phong's shoulder as they stepped out of the Gate into Manhattan.
"You're already loud without it," Phong muttered.
Rico tolerated shampoo only because Phong had leveraged coffee privileges.
No bath, no brew.
It worked.
Barely.
Now the raccoon perched on his shoulder like an overconfident pirate mascot, tail flicking, eyes scanning traffic with intense suspicion.
"Your city smells inefficient," Rico announced.
"That's just Manhattan."
They pushed into Hà Nội Corner.
The bell jingled.
Long looked up.
Paused.
Looked at Rico.
Looked at Phong.
"…I have questions."
"He pays in fish," Phong said calmly.
Rico waved. "Entrepreneur."
Long stared another beat.
Then he shrugged. "I've seen worse during lunch rush."
Behind the counter, a new contraption waited: clear cups, layered liquids, pearls settled at the bottom.
"You came at good time," Long said proudly. "Next trend. Vietnam invading coffee meta."
He held up a cup.
Long had always been like that.
He had money. Phong had heard the story. Long struck gold during the real estate boom, then cashed out and followed his obsession: coffee. Specifically, the four-Đ philosophy: đen, đậm, đặc, đắng. Black. Strong. Thick. Bitter.
Coffee snobs in the U.S. dismissed it as bold without "depth."
Long treated that as a challenge and proceeded to import half of Vietnam's drink trends into Queens.
Now he stood here in his fifties, single to the bone, and somehow the communal uncle of every student within three subway stops.
He presented his newest conquest like a trophy.
Dark oolong blended with cà phê sữa đá, swirled into marbled layers. Glossy pearls sank at the bottom.
"Boba coffee?" Phong asked.
"Not just boba coffee," Long corrected. "Vietnamese pearl. Coconut inside."
He tapped another container.
"Taiwan style, tapioca in brown sugar syrup. Classic. But this? This is fusion."
Selena sat by the window already, notebook open. Her eyes lit up when she saw Rico.
"You brought him," she said. She'd heard about the talking raccoon "moving in" with Phong.
Rico puffed up. "I consented."
Selena offered her hand slowly.
Rico sniffed her knuckles.
"…You smell like soil samples."
"That's fair."
Long handed over two boba coffees.
Rico leaned dangerously toward the cup.
Phong grabbed him by the scruff and pulled him back.
"No."
Rico hissed under his breath. "I can handle it."
"No, you cannot."
Selena laughed. "You gave him caffeine?"
"I made a mistake."
Long chuckled and slid a thimble-sized cup toward Rico.
"Decaf," Long said, firm as a judge.
Rico narrowed his eyes. "…If this is betrayal…"
"It's decaf," Phong repeated.
Rico sipped.
Paused.
"…Acceptable."
Selena watched the exchange with open amusement.
"You know mana-adapted fauna bonding with humans is statistically rare," she said.
"Didn't plan it," Phong replied.
"Still lucky."
The word landed too casually.
Envy threaded lightly through her tone, not cruel, just observational.
"I'd love a cooperative specimen for field data."
Lucky.
The word brushed something old and fragile in him.
His family was gone. His life had fractured. He lived in a dungeon.
Selena didn't know.
He hadn't told her.
The silence held half a beat too long.
Then he nodded. "He showed up. Tried to fight my chilies."
Selena grinned. "That tracks."
She stirred her drink, thinking.
"There's a Divers Association now," she said.
Phong lifted a brow. "Since when?"
"Couple weeks. Not corporate. Decentralized. Resource transaction fees fund independent divers."
He took a slow sip. The oolong cut the sweetness clean.
"And a ranking system?" he asked.
"Yeah. Verified clears. Contribution to mapped zones. Performance metrics." She smirked. "App is open-source. Built and governed by a group of anonymous maniacs, from what I've heard."
She pulled up her phone.
"Dominic Torres: C+."
Phong wasn't surprised. Dominic stayed reliable, not flashy.
"And Alexandra Vogel: B-."
That made him look up. "Already?"
"She's efficient," Selena said. "High-threat neutralization, minimal collateral."
That sounded like her.
"They're funded independently," Selena continued. "No sponsor contracts required. Association takes a small fee off dungeon resource sales. Transparent ledger."
A cooperative model.
Not perfect.
But less centralized.
Phong filed it away.
Rico tugged his sleeve.
"Does ranking system include raccoons?"
"No," Phong and Selena said at the same time.
Rico scoffed. "Discrimination."
After coffee, Phong made a decision.
"Come see it," he told Selena.
She blinked. "Your farm?"
"Yes."
Her eyes widened. "You sure?"
"Yes."
Trust wasn't binary.
It grew by inches.
He wasn't ready to hand her everything, but data meant nothing without observation.
They passed through the Gate together.
Rico rode between them like a bodyguard.
Selena adjusted to dungeon air fast, scanning terrain with trained awareness.
When they reached the patch, she stopped dead.
Moletato territory had expanded again.
Sweet potato vines filled controlled rows.
One lime sapling stood sturdier now, leaves vibrant.
Chili plants swayed slightly, green pods glinting with bad intent.
"This…" Selena breathed. "This is stable."
"Yes."
"No mana fluctuation spikes?"
"Minimal."
She crouched, fingers hovering over the soil without touching.
"May I?"
Phong nodded.
She pressed her palm down and closed her eyes.
"…It feels different."
"Because it is."
Rico hopped down and strutted toward the pond path.
"I patrol perimeter."
"Don't antagonize the green ones," Phong called.
Rico didn't look back. "I learned."
Selena watched him go with a faint smile.
"I envy you," she said softly, eyes still on the garden. "Most divers grind for months to carve out territory. You just grew one."
There it was again.
Envy, clean and factual.
Lucky.
He swallowed it.
She didn't know.
He hadn't told her.
He chose not to react.
Instead he pointed toward the lime sapling.
"It struggled at first. It stabilized near the Moletato aeration zone."
She snapped into researcher mode. "So the Moletatoes terraform."
"Yes."
"And the chilies?"
"Green phase defends. Red phase yields stat boosts."
Her head jerked up. "Permanent?"
"Yes. Capped at plus one."
Her breathing changed. "Do you realize—"
"I do."
She studied him. "You're not exploiting this."
"I'm studying it."
A pause.
Then she smiled. "Good."
Rico returned dragging a fish like a trophy.
"PROTEIN DELIVERY."
Selena laughed and scratched behind his ear.
"You're unbelievably lucky," she said lightly.
This time Phong didn't flinch.
Lucky wasn't the word.
He'd lost almost everything.
What he had now came from cultivation.
Pain planted.
Patience watered.
He looked over the garden: sweet potatoes rooting deep, chilies guarding hard, lime leaves catching alien light.
"I worked for this," he said quietly.
Selena glanced at him, caught the weight behind the words, and nodded.
"Yeah," she said. "You did."
Phong sliced sweet potatoes when he felt it.
Not a tremor.
Not danger.
Familiarity.
Footsteps.
Heavy and controlled.
And lighter ones beside them.
Rico froze mid-gnaw on a fish bone.
"…Big human," he muttered.
Dominic's voice boomed before he appeared.
"FARMER!"
Phong stepped out from behind the tent.
Dominic stood at the edge of the Moletato perimeter, grinning wide, shield slung across his back. Alexandra stood beside him, armor scuffed, posture relaxed in a way Phong hadn't seen in months.
They both looked alive.
Tired.
But stronger.
"You expanded," Dominic said, whistling as he took in the rows, the tent, the generator hum. "This is a whole camp."
"Camp implies temporary," Phong said.
Dominic barked a laugh.
Alexandra's gaze softened as it moved over the lime sapling, the chili barricade, the sweet potato vines stretching across alien soil.
"You did this in two months?" she asked.
"Yes."
She shook her head. "Of course you did."
Dominic dropped a heavy sack onto the ground.
"Brought something special."
He pulled out what looked like a plucked chicken.
Except the proportions sat wrong.
Longer neck. Broader breast. A faint iridescent sheen to the skin.
"Floor Two runner," Dominic announced proudly. "Fast little bastards. Tastes like chicken on steroids."
Rico's eyes widened. "MEAT."
Phong nodded once. "Hot pot."
They built a larger fire ring.
Selena arrived shortly after, notebook in hand but mercifully left closed.
Five around the fire.
Including one raccoon.
Phong set the portable burner in the center. Broth simmered: bone stock, lime slices, crushed red Angry Chillies, herbs he coaxed from dungeon soil.
Steam rose fragrant and sharp.
Dominic dropped slices of steroid-chicken into the bubbling pot.
It cooked fast.
Too fast.
"High mana density in muscle fibers," Selena murmured on reflex.
"Translation?" Dominic asked.
"Juicy."
He grinned.
They ate.
Sweet potato slices soaked up broth.
Chicken turned tender and rich.
Lime lifted everything.
Alexandra leaned back after her first bite and closed her eyes for half a second.
"This," she said quietly, "beats ration bars."
Dominic raised a Pepsi can like a toast. "PepsupremaSi."
Selena rolled her eyes but clinked her cup anyway.
Phong sipped quietly.
Rico sat between him and Alexandra, nibbling at a chunk of Moletato with the seriousness of a critic.
Alexandra eyed the floating red chili pieces warily.
"You know those things try to murder people, right?"
"Green ones," Phong said. "Red ones just hurt."
"That's not reassuring."
Selena had already fished out a chili slice and popped it into her mouth.
Alexandra coughed once.
Then twice.
Then straightened.
"…Manageable."
Dominic grinned. "You're adapting."
They talked.
Floor Two terrain shifts.
Denser predator hierarchies.
A fungal forest that reacted to sound.
Alexandra described a creature that phased between stone and flesh mid-attack.
Selena listened like she'd stumbled into a masterclass.
Dominic insisted the Divers Association ranking system was flawed.
"C+," he scoffed. "I carried two B-rank teams through choke points."
"You also argue with vending machines," Alexandra said dryly.
"Because they're wrong."
Laughter rose into dungeon twilight.
Phong watched them.
Dominic's laugh stayed loud.
Alexandra's shoulders sat slightly looser tonight.
Selena leaned in, eyes bright.
People.
Not corporations.
Not systems.
People.
Dominic wiped his hands and leaned back.
"You mind if I bring the team next time?"
The question landed softly.
Selena glanced at Phong.
Alexandra didn't look at him, but her attention sharpened.
Trust again.
Incremental.
Phong thought.
He would need more people eventually.
Isolation had kept him alive.
Prolonged loneliness would rot him.
Dominic trusted his team with his life.
That mattered.
Phong nodded once. "Fine."
Dominic grinned. "You won't regret it."
"Probably will," Phong said dryly.
Alexandra shifted closer to Rico.
"Can I?" she asked.
Rico blinked up at her.
"…Are you going to explode me?"
"No."
She scratched under his chin with careful fingers.
Rico froze.
Then melted.
His eyes half-lidded.
"…This is acceptable," he murmured.
She scratched behind his ears, then the top of his head.
Rico's tail thumped like a drum.
Dominic stared. "I cannot believe the raccoon likes you more than me."
"I don't smell like sweat and Pepsi," Alexandra replied.
Rico tilted his head toward her.
For a second, he imagined riding on her shoulder into Floor Two.
Adventure.
Glory.
Fungal forests.
Then Phong handed him another slice of roasted Moletato.
Rico bit into it and closed his eyes.
Stability.
Territory.
Predictable hot pot nights.
He opened one eye.
"…I remain loyal," he declared solemnly.
Alexandra laughed. "Good."
The fire sank lower.
The dungeon pulsed faintly beneath cultivated soil.
Five figures sat within a pocket of warmth carved out of alien land.
For the first time in a long while, Phong didn't feel like he hid inside the dungeon.
He felt like he hosted it.