The trolls adapted.
They stopped charging the chilies.
They stopped testing the Bonktatoes.
They learned.
Burning moss hurt. Regeneration broke. Panic triggered cannibalism.
So they stopped touching the garden.
Instead, they swung around the mountain.
Toward the Gate.
Toward traffic.
Toward whoever stood unguarded.
When the first report hit the Divers Association channel, Alexandra didn't pause.
She called everyone into the ruin's clearing.
The single lime tree rustled overhead. Bonktato vines coiled along the perimeter. Chilies swayed with restless pods.
"The trolls won't break this place," she said. "So they'll attack where it's weaker."
"The Gate," Selena said.
Alexandra nodded. "Which means none of you go in or out alone."
Rico puffed up. "I am independently capable."
"No," Alexandra said, calm as a scalpel.
She crouched until she met Rico eye-to-eye.
"Level 35 trolls."
Rico stared back.
Then he nodded once. "I retract my statement."
Alexandra stood.
"For now, whenever Phong, Selena, or Rico leave or enter the dungeon, we move as a squad. Full escort."
Dominic crossed his arms. "Until the next Shifting punts those goats somewhere else."
No one argued.
No pride.
No ego.
Only logistics.
Janet clapped once. "Good. Because I need insulation, bedding, and real medical kits if this becomes a permanent rest stop."
Dominic raised a finger. "And Pepsi."
Selena rolled her eyes.
Phong looked toward the Gate. "I need seeds," he said quietly. "And coffee."
Rico perked up. "…I support this mission."
Alexandra nodded once. "Then we go today."
---
The mountain path tightened every nerve.
They moved in formation.
Dominic and another tank-class diver took point.
Alexandra and a ranged user held the flanks.
Selena stayed near the middle.
Phong walked inside the shell.
Rico rode low in a reinforced pouch strapped across Selena's chest.
He protested.
Briefly.
The first ambush hit halfway down the slope.
Two trolls burst from behind a rock outcrop.
Dominic intercepted the first with a shield slam that cracked bone.
The second launched toward the center.
Alexandra met it mid-air.
Her psychic rapier punched through its eye socket clean.
Moss flared where it struck.
Dominic hurled a satchel of dried green chilies Phong had packed for emergencies.
Pods ruptured on impact. Heat and smoke bit into the troll's hide.
It shrieked. Regeneration stuttered.
The other troll hesitated.
Then it turned and bit into its injured companion.
The squad fell back at once and let instinct do the work.
Within seconds, the trolls tore into each other in a violent knot.
"Move," Alexandra barked.
They moved like a machine.
No wasted motion.
No panic.
They repelled two more small packs before the Gate came into view.
Each time, they repeated the same method.
Disrupt healing.
Spike panic.
Let cannibalism fracture cohesion.
Efficiency.
No casualties.
When they crossed the Gate threshold, cold Manhattan air slapped them like a different planet.
Then sirens wailed.
An ambulance screamed past.
A crowd pressed near the barricade perimeter.
News drones hovered overhead, lights blinking.
Dominic grabbed a bystander by the sleeve. "What happened?"
"Troll breach," the man said, pale. "They came down from somewhere. Hit a small dive group trying to enter."
Phong's stomach tightened. "Who?"
The man swallowed. "Some college kids. One didn't make it."
A news van camera light flared.
A reporter's voice carried clear over the noise.
"Confirmed deceased before reaching hospital. Identity withheld pending family notification. Sources say he was associated with a private sponsor—"
A screen behind her displayed a blurred photo.
Phong recognized the face.
Not Josh.
One of them.
One of the three who had kicked him into the dirt.
He stared.
The world didn't slow.
It didn't dim.
It registered.
Gone.
Not by Phong's hand.
Not by careful revenge.
By a troll. By the dungeon.
He waited for drama.
For rage.
For guilt.
For some moral quake.
Instead, satisfaction flickered, small and quiet.
Not triumph.
Not relief.
A shift.
A slight correction.
Balance nudging, almost imperceptibly.
He couldn't deny it.
Dominic glanced at him and kept silent.
Alexandra studied his face for a second.
Phong nodded once. "I'm fine."
---
They split there.
Janet and Dominic's team peeled off toward supply stores for insulation panels, medical kits, and bedding.
Dominic hesitated, then pointed at Phong. "Coffee run."
Alexandra nodded.
Selena adjusted Rico's harness. "I'll take him to a lab contact," she said. "Short stop. Back to the Gate in two hours."
Rico squirmed. "I demand pastry."
"No caffeine," Selena warned.
Rico gasped like she'd committed treason.
Phong headed toward Hà Nội Corner with Alexandra beside him.
Snow melted into gray slush along sidewalks.
The city moved on, unaware that a mountain had grown underground.
Long looked up as they entered.
"Ah! My farmer!"
He paused at the sight of Alexandra in full dive gear.
"Bring friends, get discount."
Phong allowed himself a small smile.
"Salt foam," he said.
"And seeds," he added.
Long leaned over the counter. "What kind?"
Phong thought for a second. "Basil," he said. "And maybe ginger."
Alexandra glanced at him. "Expanding cuisine?"
"Expanding territory," Phong replied.
Outside, sirens faded into distance.
Inside, robusta brewed thick and dark.
The world stayed imperfect.
Unjust.
But not empty.
And somewhere beneath Manhattan, a lime tree stood stubborn at the center of an anchored patch of land, waiting for them to return.
Phong sank into a wooden chair, shoulders loosening as heat from salt foam coffee seeped into him.
Long launched into a story immediately.
"Back home," Long said, wiping down the counter with theatrical circles, "Vietnamese youth now jump into dungeon like it's motorbike race."
Dominic leaned forward. "Smart?"
Long barked a laugh. "No. Brave. Too brave. More gut than brain."
Alexandra smirked faintly. "Casualties?"
"High," Long admitted, tone sobering for a moment. "But progress also high. Vietnam reached Level Three briefly. Same time as Russia. Crazy people. India and China too. Numbers alone push them forward."
He tapped the counter.
Dominic and Alexandra both looked at Phong.
Not subtly.
Phong rolled his eyes. "I'm a Farmer on Floor One. I avoid battles unless something tries to eat me."
Dominic grinned. "You anchored a biome and knocked out a Level 35 troll with vegetables."
Alexandra added, softer, "You don't read as cautious."
Phong sipped his coffee instead of answering.
Long ducked under the counter and pulled out a small crate.
"For you."
Inside sat onions, tight and fragrant. Garlic bulbs with papery skins intact. Fresh ginger, knobby and sharp.
And mushrooms.
Wood ear, dark and crinkled.
Oyster mushrooms, delicate fans.
Enoki bundles tied neat.
Shiitake caps with deep earthy smell.
"Technically not plants," Long said proudly. "Technically farmable."
Phong ran a hand over the mushrooms.
Protein diversity.
Texture.
Umami layers for hot pot.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
Long waved it off. "You make Dominic regular now. Most time he drink Pepsi like traitor. But he bring new customers."
Dominic puffed up. "I diversify clientele."
Long snorted. "Some become loyal. You bring community. That's how business survive."
Phong nodded.
He understood that now.
After coffee, Alexandra said casually, "You two coming?"
"Where?" Dominic asked.
"My place."
Dominic blinked. "Oh."
Phong glanced between them. "Why?"
"My parents want to meet you."
Phong froze. "…Why."
Alexandra shrugged. "I might have mentioned a Level 1 farmer who built a defensive ecosystem and feeds people hot pot."
Dominic coughed. "You undersold it."
Long leaned over the counter, eyes sparkling. "Meet the parents. Family of doctors? Professors? Very serious people?"
---
Phong expected a townhouse.
Or a sterile apartment lined with framed degrees.
Instead, Alexandra led them to Vogel's German Bakery in Ridgewood, on Seneca Avenue, the kind of place that kept its windows warm even in ugly weather.
Light spilled onto the sidewalk.
The smell hit Phong the moment they opened the door.
Butter.
Yeast.
Sugar.
Cinnamon.
Dominic blinked. "This is elite."
Alexandra smirked. "Told you."
Inside, shelves overflowed with old-world pastries and sturdy breads. Pretzels the size of shields. Layered cakes dusted with powdered sugar. Cookies lined like soldiers.
Her parents stood behind the counter.
Her father looked German in the straightforward way, broad shoulders, flour on his apron, hands built from kneading.
Her mother moved with sharper precision, features that blended German angles with Italian warmth, her hair pinned back like she didn't tolerate mess unless it involved dough.
They recognized Dominic immediately.
"You," her father boomed, stepping forward to shake Dominic's hand. "We thank you properly this time."
Dominic scratched the back of his head. "Just doing my job."
Her mother turned to Phong.
"And you."
No suspicion.
No judgment.
Only gratitude.
"Thank you for taking care of our daughter."
Phong opened his mouth.
Closed it.
"I didn't—"
"You did," Alexandra cut in, light but firm.
Her mother smiled. "She told us."
Her father nodded toward the pastry display. "And she told us about the café you introduced her to. Very good coffee."
Phong blinked. "Hà Nội Corner?"
"Yes," her mother said brightly. "Salt foam. Delicious."
Dominic grinned wide. "Cultural exchange."
They stayed.
They sat at a small wooden table near the back.
Plates appeared like magic.
Apfelstrudel, flaky layers shattering under fork pressure.
Black Forest cake, dark chocolate and whipped cream, cherries tart and sweet.
Butter cookies crisp and delicate.
Pretzel knots brushed with coarse salt.
Coffee for the adults.
Hot chocolate for Alexandra.
Soda for Dominic.
Phong took a careful bite of strudel.
Warm apple filling. Cinnamon present but controlled. Butter layers dissolving on his tongue.
He hadn't sat like this in months.
No mountain looming.
No chili artillery.
No formation plans.
Only pastry.
Alexandra's father told stories about post-dungeon supply chain chaos and flour imports.
Her mother described how the neighborhood adapted when half their regulars became divers.
Dominic recounted a sanitized version of the Floor Two fungal forest.
Everyone laughed at the right moments.
No one asked about lawsuits.
No one mentioned sponsors.
It felt simple.
Normal.
At one point, Alexandra's mother leaned toward Phong.
"You are welcome here anytime," she said, sincere.
He nodded. "Thank you."
Outside, snow kept falling over the city.
Inside, butter and sugar and warmth.
Phong leaned back in his chair.
He watched Alexandra argue with her father about oven temperature.
He watched Dominic demolish a second slice of cake.
He listened to the hum of a small family business still standing.
He had missed this.
A room where nothing needed defending.
A place where the only conflict involved pretzel crust.
For the first time in a long while, he felt like a normal New York kid again.
Not a farmer anchoring a dungeon.
Not a strategist stacking revenge in silence.
Just a young man eating pastry on a winter evening.
And he let himself enjoy it.
Alexandra's mother watched Phong for a long moment while the others argued about whether cinnamon ratios were culturally negotiable.
"You lean back a lot," she said suddenly.
Phong blinked. "…Sorry?"
She smiled gently. "You sit like someone watching a room, not standing inside it."
He didn't know what to do with that.
She continued, warm rather than critical. "You observe. You measure. You look at everyone with kind eyes."
Phong glanced down at his cup.
She set a hand lightly on the table. "It is good. But sometimes move forward. Stand beside people. Not always one step back."
For a second, he felt twelve again, getting quiet advice in a kitchen filled with herbs and steam.
He nodded slowly. "I'll try."
She smiled. "Good."
Alexandra caught the tail end and smirked. "See? I told you my mom is scary."
"She's efficient," Phong corrected.
Her father laughed loud.
They left the bakery wrapped in butter-scented warmth and stepped back into the cold.
Snow muted traffic.
The three walked toward the Gate together.
Dominic talked pretzel density like it mattered to national security.
---
Selena came jogging down the sidewalk to meet them.
Her face looked flushed. Her hair had slipped slightly out of its tie.
She looked flustered.
"You're late," Alexandra said.
"I know," Selena said quickly. "Sorry."
She adjusted the duffel bag on her shoulder.
Rico perched atop the bag like a suspicious general and cleared his throat.
"I have made executive decisions."
Phong frowned. "What did you do?"
Selena crouched and unzipped the bag.
Two small heads peeked out.
A puppy, golden-brown fur, oversized paws, bright curious eyes.
A kitten, gray tabby, already scanning threat vectors.
Both tiny.
Both alert.
Both looking back with awareness that didn't belong in ordinary animals.
Dominic blinked. "You're kidding."
Selena stood, cheeks still pink. "They were born near a mana-saturated zone on Floor One. No parent. High exposure."
The puppy tilted its head.
The kitten blinked slowly.
Selena spoke faster. "They're sentient. Not fully verbal yet, but cognitively elevated. I couldn't leave them."
Rico puffed up. "They require mentorship."
Alexandra stared. "You're telling me..."
Selena nodded. "Rico insisted."
Rico nodded gravely. "I cannot remain the sole enlightened raccoon."
Phong rubbed his forehead. "So you adopted them."
"Yes."
"And you're bringing them to the dungeon."
"Yes."
"And Rico is training them."
"Yes."
Rico pointed at the puppy. "This one has reckless energy. Good frontline potential."
He gestured to the kitten. "This one plots."
The kitten blinked.
Accurate.
Dominic exhaled slowly. "Our farm is becoming a daycare."
Alexandra looked at Phong.
Phong stared at the two small creatures.
Then at Rico.
Then back at Selena.
"Fine," he said.
Selena's shoulders eased at once. "Thank you."
Rico looked smug.
---
They regrouped at the Gate with Janet and the rest of the team.
Janet had optimized her loadout: insulation rolls, bedding compressed tight, medical kits strapped secure.
Dominic looked hopeful.
Janet handed him a six-pack.
Pepsi.
Only a six-pack.
Dominic stared. "That's it?"
"You need water too," Janet said.
He sighed. "Understood."
They entered the dungeon together.
The path back stayed tense but manageable.
Trolls didn't show.
Dominic squinted at the mountain line as they crossed the lower ridge. "They're not nocturnal. Activity spikes during the day."
Selena nodded. "Moss photosynthetic adaptation."
Rico whispered to the puppy, "Rule one: do not antagonize large horned goats."
The puppy wagged with reckless enthusiasm.
The kitten watched in silence.
They reached camp without ambush.
The lime tree stood steady at the center.
Chilies swayed.
Bonktatoes flexed lazy but ready.
Moletatoes hummed faintly beneath soil.
Janet started issuing instructions immediately.
"Bedding inside the ruin chamber. Insulation on the north wall first. Medical kit central and accessible."
Dominic cracked open a Pepsi with reverence.
Alexandra scanned the perimeter.
Selena set the bag down and released the puppy and kitten.
The puppy sprinted in a wide circle and bumped a Bonktato vine.
The vine lifted.
Paused.
Phong pressed his palm into the soil. "Friendly," he murmured.
The vine relaxed.
The kitten climbed a stone and surveyed the entire area like a tiny monarch.
Rico puffed up. "Observe and learn."
Dominic leaned back on a crate. "This place needs a name."
Phong glanced at him. "It has a name."
"No, it doesn't," Dominic argued. "We can't keep calling it 'Phong's place.' That sounds like a pizza shop."
Janet nodded. "It needs identity."
Selena immediately started listing.
"First Floor Anchor."
"Citrus Bastion."
"Root Haven."
Dominic snorted. "Bonk Fortress."
Alexandra deadpanned. "Hot Pot Stronghold."
Rico shouted, "Raccoon Citadel."
The puppy barked approval.
The kitten remained judgmental.
Phong leaned against the lime tree trunk and watched them argue.
He watched insulation go up.
He watched bedding get arranged.
He watched two tiny mana-awakened animals explore under Rico's stern supervision.
Community kept expanding.
Again.
He shook his head lightly. "Let it marinate."
They groaned.
"Terrible," Dominic declared.
"Practical," Alexandra corrected.
They agreed to revisit it tomorrow.
The mountain loomed quiet.
The garden held steady.
Under a dungeon sky that shimmered faintly with distant mana currents, Phong felt something settle inside him.
This wasn't just a camp anymore.
It wasn't just a farm.
It was becoming something larger.
Something anchored.
Something named.
Soon.