It escalated faster than anyone expected.
At first, it was just speculation.
Then it started trending.
Then paparazzi showed up outside the Vogel bakery.
Cameras.
Microphones.
Phones raised high.
Customers shoved aside.
People pressed against the windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the "mystery woman" Olen was supposedly courting.
Alex tolerated it until they crossed the line.
The moment Mama Vogel had to close the shop early because strangers were filming through the glass, that was it.
Alex did not rant.
Did not post a long thread.
Did not argue.
She replied once.
[Already taken.
Dating who is my own free choice as an independent woman of a free country.
When are we? 15th century?]
No hashtags.
No emojis.
Just that.
It blew up.
Within minutes, it was everywhere.
Clipped.
Reposted.
Screenshotted.
Debated.
Praised.
Mocked.
Papa Vogel did not hide behind politeness either.
He stepped outside the bakery and spoke calmly to the cameras.
"Love is not something to negotiate through media pressure," he said in his thick accent. "No business interest and no public narrative will make me trade away my daughter's happiness."
Mama Vogel was simpler.
"Alex is an adult. Who she dates, or whether she dates anyone at all, is her choice. Even we cannot decide that. Why should strangers?"
That clip spread too.
But the real counterattack came from the dungeon side.
Dominic went full sarcasm on social media.
[Oh yeah, absolutely. Next we'll have arranged marriages for production classes and divers. Optimize genetics for DPS output.]
Janet did not even try to be polite.
[Some men really think a relationship is just a strategic merger. News flash: women are not DLC.]
Jake and Jack piled on.
Joanne weaponized Long's café humor with subtle, brutal meme edits.
But the hardest hit came from Séline and Camille.
The French divers.
The ones about to be flown home as part of a heavily sponsored international narrative.
They recorded a short video.
Messy hair.
No PR gloss.
Straight to camera.
Séline leaned in.
[Was America still in feudal time?]
Camille followed, grammar shaky but the hit clean.
[Is Olen your king? Why you try to kidnap lady and put in his harem?]
Their English was not perfect.
That was what made it work.
Naivety.
Foreign innocence.
Outsider eyes.
It stabbed straight into American pride.
Freedom.
Democracy.
Independence.
The whole thing flipped fast.
Now people were asking why a "self-made production leader" needed public pressure to get a girlfriend.
Memes exploded.
Dungeon Feudalism.
Olen the Production King.
Escort the Lady to the Castle.
The more his media team tried to smooth it over, the worse it looked.
And in the middle of that storm, people noticed something else.
Frame by frame.
In several shots of Olen "heroically" slashing mushroommires, there was a blurry figure in the background.
Far away.
Almost out of focus.
A lone farmer.
Level 1 tag barely visible.
Comment sections lit up again.
[Who's that?]
[Random farmer grinding alone?]
[Why is he so calm?]
[Is that the mystery boyfriend?]
[Production class NPC spotted.]
Zoomed images started spreading.
Grainy screenshots.
Speculation threads multiplying by the hour.
Phong saw it.
And he did not hesitate.
He stood up at once.
"I'm going."
Alex caught his wrist.
"You don't have to…"
"I know."
He smiled softly.
"But if they're going to stare, let them stare at the decoy."
She understood right away.
If the spotlight needed a target, better it hit empty soil.
Better it hit a harmless level one farmer tending peas.
Better him than Camp Stymphalian.
Better him than moletatoes.
Better him than mutated defenses and monster alliances.
He jogged to the decoy farm.
Strawberries.
Peas.
Plain dirt.
Treant forest behind him.
Low-level mobs skittering warily nearby.
He made no effort to hide.
He planted.
Watered.
Adjusted supports.
Completely ordinary.
Soon enough, drones hovered overhead.
Phones filmed from a distance.
Curious divers walked closer.
"Yo, that's him."
"Level 1?"
"He's been here the whole time?"
"Why isn't he in the Guild?"
Questions flew.
Some mocking.
"Bro still level 1 in August?"
Some admiring.
"Low-key peaceful though."
Some guessing.
"Maybe that's the boyfriend."
Phong did not react.
Did not confirm.
Did not deny.
He became exactly what they expected.
A harmless farmer.
A curiosity.
A monkey in a zoo.
Let them stare.
Let them laugh.
Let them film.
The decoy farm existed for this.
Back at Camp Stymphalian, the real defenses stayed hidden.
The real crops stayed hidden.
The real alliances stayed safe.
The jade dragon watched again.
Interesting.
The farmer chose exposure to shield something unseen.
He did not use the rumor.
Did not escalate.
He absorbed attention like a shock absorber taking a hit.
The dragon felt that same faint, strange feeling again.
Not approval.
Not quite.
But close to respect.
Meanwhile, Olen's media team scrambled.
Now they had two problems.
A woman who had publicly rejected coercion.
And a level one farmer in the background who looked more real than their polished hero footage.
The comments under Olen's videos began to turn.
[Why does that random farmer look more legit than you?]
[Bro farming peas while you farming PR.]
[King of Production can't even secure consent.]
Olen's smile in interviews grew tighter.
The spin machine kept running.
But the cracks were there.
And at the decoy farm, Phong kept planting.
Calm.
Patient.
Invisible in plain sight.
Let them look.
Let them laugh.
Let them underestimate him.
The dungeon was vast.
Time was long.
And patience was still his sharpest weapon.
Phong had not expected being a zoo animal to feel this draining.
He stood at the decoy farm for hours.
Watering peas.
Checking strawberry leaves.
Answering the same question over and over with the same mild, harmless smile.
"Yeah, just farming."
"No, I'm not in the Guild."
"No, I don't dive."
"Yeah, level 1."
He let them film.
Let them zoom in.
Let them guess.
By the time the drones finally got bored and the crowd thinned out, his social battery was dead.
When he returned to Camp Stymphalian, shoulders slightly slumped, Olen's message was already waiting.
Polite tone.
Corporate format.
A prewritten statement attached.
[To avoid misunderstandings and protect all parties, we believe it would be beneficial if you clarify publicly that you and Ms. Vogel are not in a romantic relationship…]
There was even a ready-made post for him to copy and paste.
All he had to do was obey.
Phong stared at it for a long moment.
Then he typed:
[Sir. I don't use social media.]
Sent.
No extra words.
No argument.
No confrontation.
Weak.
Afraid.
Harmless.
Let Olen believe that.
Safer that way.
By the time he stepped fully into camp, the ripple had already reached them.
Olen's media team had contacted everyone.
Dominic.
Janet.
Even Jake and Jack.
Offers.
Compensation.
Sponsorship.
Strategic cooperation.
Mutual benefit.
Post this.
Reframe that.
Distance yourselves from Alex's statement.
Help steady the narrative.
Dominic showed Phong the message and laughed out loud.
"They think we're for sale."
Janet snorted.
"They didn't even bargain right."
Alex wrinkled her nose.
"Price tag on ego."
Phong nodded slowly.
Maybe she was right.
In Olen's world, he stood at the top.
Top university.
Top production breakthrough.
Top Forbes list.
Investors around him.
Applause everywhere.
Only Josh stood near his level in the East Coast diver scene.
So why would any woman turn him down?
Especially one who could sharpen his image?
To him, the rumors were not cruel.
They were scaffolding.
An excuse.
A public runway for Alex to "gracefully" start dating him.
He had already set the table.
Already planned the feast.
Foie gras on the menu.
Ready to brag to Josh.
All that before he had even secured the goose, Alexandra Vogel.
Now that goose had kicked him hard in the shin.
And he was scrambling.
Alex leaned against a wooden post by the pond and looked at Phong.
"Tired?"
He smiled.
"A bit."
Not in his body.
In his head.
Being underestimated was easy.
Being watched all day was not.
But what weighed on him more was something else.
Dominic clapped his hands once.
"Alright. I'm cooking tonight."
Everyone blinked.
He rolled his shoulders.
"Tomorrow we move."
Silence settled over camp.
He did not need to explain.
Floor Two.
Back to the vertical ruins.
Back to stronger mobs.
Back to risk.
The ant siege had forced them into level thirty evolutions.
They could not stay inactive much longer without drawing notice.
They had to dive again.
Janet stepped up beside him.
The Valkyrie aura around her was stronger now.
Still subtle.
Still there.
Alex crossed her arms loosely.
Her stats had exploded after level thirty.
Even standing still, she felt sharper.
Cleaner.
Deadlier.
She would return as their hardest hitter.
To Phong and Alex, that meant one simple thing.
Parting.
He would stay.
She would go.
He would farm.
She would fight.
Camp Stymphalian would remain a sanctuary.
He would wait at the edge of danger while they walked into it.
Dominic caught his eye.
"You good?"
Phong nodded.
"I'll keep it warm."
Dominic grinned.
"Make sure you do."
As dinner simmered, Dominic cooking loudly and aggressively to hide the tension, the mood shifted.
Not heavy.
Just aware.
Jake sharpened his weapon without thinking.
Camille checked both her armor and Séline's twice.
Séline repacked supplies she had already packed earlier.
Vanessa reviewed Selena's notes on shifting patterns.
Little Fireball hopped from shoulder to shoulder, chirping like nothing was wrong.
Nyx and Bruno felt it too.
They stayed closer to their humans than usual.
Alex walked over to Phong once the others got busy.
"Don't overwork," she said quietly.
"Don't underwork," he answered.
She rolled her eyes a little.
He stepped closer.
"I'll be here."
"I know."
"You come back."
She gave him a faint smirk.
"Of course."
There was no arrogance in it.
Only resolve.
They stood there for a moment.
No dramatic hug.
No speech.
Just familiarity.
Comfort.
Love did not mean always staying side by side.
It meant fighting in parallel.
He fought his war.
She fought hers.
And they met in the middle.
Dominic broke the moment.
"Oi. Lovebirds. Food's ready before it turns to charcoal."
They stepped apart naturally.
Alex bumped his shoulder as she passed.
"You owe me pampering when I get back."
"Noted."
That night was not loud.
Not like the birthday.
Not like the anniversary.
It was steady.
Focused.
Quietly set.
After dinner, Dominic laid out the plan.
Leave early.
Keep exposure near the Floor Two entrance low.
Meet Alexei outside the perimeter as usual.
Push carefully.
No heroics.
No ego.
Just progress.
When the camp finally dimmed and people turned in, Phong stood by the lime-oak for a while.
The swing moved gently in the night air.
The pond reflected faint stars.
The treants stood still.
Beyond them, deeper in the dungeon, there was only darkness.
He let out a slow breath.
Tomorrow she would leave the perimeter.
Tomorrow he would watch her walk toward danger.
And he would remain.
Planting.
Reinforcing.
Waiting.
Patient.
Because revenge needed time.
And love needed trust.
He had already chosen both.