On the surface, far from the damp soil and living roots of the dungeon, Olen's father did not shout.
He did not rage.
He did not throw things.
He reviewed.
Calmly.
Two assassination attempts.
Two failures.
Both tied to his son.
Both tied to the same level 1 farmer.
Both ending with dead hired hands.
He read the reports in silence.
First attempt: illegal divers. Dead. Framed as lizardman hostility.
Second attempt: Black Web operatives. Dead. Framed as Greencap cavalry retaliation.
Common factor?
Phong.
He steepled his fingers.
"Olen."
His son stood stiff across the office, jaw tight.
"Yes."
"You will not make another move against this Phong. Not until I say so."
Olen's lips thinned.
"He's a level 1 farmer."
"And twice now," his father cut in evenly, "high-level dungeon fauna have intervened in his favor."
"Coincidence," Olen snapped.
"Maybe."
The older man leaned back in his chair.
"If it is coincidence, then there is nothing to fear."
He paused.
"But if it is not…"
The silence thickened.
"…then this Phong may be a far more valuable asset than Alexandra Vogel."
Olen blinked.
His father went on.
"A level 1 production-class with influence over treants, lizardmen, and Greencap cavalry."
He tapped the report once.
"Do you understand how rare that is?"
Olen's irritation cooled into something sharper.
"You think he controls them?"
"I think," his father said carefully, "that we do not know yet."
He stood and walked to the window overlooking the city.
"Observe him."
"Measure him."
"Do not attack him."
"If he is lucky, he is irrelevant."
"If he is not…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…then he may be worth more alive than dead."
Olen clenched his fists but nodded.
"And in the meantime?"
"In the meantime," his father said without turning, "you use Josh's absence."
Josh was still missing on Floor Three.
Media quiet.
Influence reduced.
"You reach level 20 as fast as possible."
Olen straightened.
"Level 20?"
"If the 'one hundred monsters of the same species' clause keeps scaling," his father said thoughtfully, "then production-class may have the easiest road to 30."
At last he looked back.
"What does an evolved farmer look like?"
"What does a level 30 production-class become?"
"How much leverage does that give us?"
Those were the questions that mattered to him.
Not romance.
Not pride.
Influence.
Control.
Olen's breathing steadied.
Yes.
That language he understood.
He would grind.
He would optimize.
He would prove his value.
And if Phong turned out to be something rare…
Then he would acquire him.
One way or another.
---
Meanwhile, in Camp Stymphalian, Phong was losing to something far more dangerous than assassins.
Guilt.
He sat under the lime-oak, staring at nothing.
Alex had stopped visiting Papa and Mama Vogel for now.
Safer that way.
Less time on the surface.
Less visibility.
Less chance for opportunists.
It made sense.
She had told him so.
More than once.
"It's not because of you."
But logic did not shut up the voice in his head.
If he were not a target…
If she were not tied to him…
If he had not dragged the world sideways by building a camp inside a dungeon…
Then she could go home whenever she wanted.
He clasped his hands lightly.
He did not say it aloud.
He did not need to.
Alex noticed anyway.
She always did.
That evening she called a "meeting."
Bruno trotted in with full serious-face determination.
Nyx hovered in the air with her arms crossed.
Little Fireball perched on Alex's shoulder like a tiny burning adviser.
Rico was very noticeably absent.
Alex cleared her throat with drama.
"Operation Cheer Up Farmboy."
Phong blinked.
"You didn't need to—"
"Shh," Nyx said.
Bruno barked once in support.
Little Fireball chirped with theatrical force.
Alex crossed her arms.
"You think I'm not visiting my parents because of you."
He hesitated.
"That's not—"
"It is."
She knelt in front of him.
"Listen carefully."
Then she poked his chest.
"I choose where I go."
"I choose who I date."
"I choose who I fight."
"And I choose you."
Bruno barked again.
Nyx nodded with solemn approval.
Little Fireball puffed up.
Alex went on.
"If I'm not visiting the bakery right now, it's because I don't want to."
"Not because you're a burden."
Her voice softened.
"You are not something that limits me."
"You are someone I stand beside."
That landed.
He let out a slow breath.
The guilt did not vanish.
But it loosened.
Bruno tried climbing into his lap.
Nyx acted like she wasn't joining, but drifted closer anyway.
Little Fireball jumped into his hood like she always did.
Alex leaned against him.
That was the whole plan.
Not clever.
Not complicated.
Just presence.
---
Rico had his own way of helping.
He had slipped out earlier.
To the gate town.
Disguised.
Listening.
Blending.
Rico was annoyingly good at blending.
That was how he heard it.
A quiet quest posting.
High reward.
Search and reconnaissance.
Target: Josh.
Missing since the Floor Three incident.
Rumors were spreading.
Some said he was alive.
Some said he was being held.
Some whispered about floor bosses.
The Association wanted information.
Not rescue.
Not yet.
Information.
Rico's whiskers twitched.
That was interesting.
Very interesting.
He didn't run back right away.
He listened longer.
Caught fragments.
Speculation.
High-level teams forming.
Politicians interested.
Investors getting nervous.
Then he turned and sprinted back toward the dungeon entrance.
He needed to bring this home.
Because missing billionaire heirs had a habit of destabilizing everything.
And Camp Stymphalian preferred warning before instability showed up at the door.
Rico did not exaggerate when he delivered the news.
He burst into camp like a furry intelligence officer coming back from enemy land, panting lightly, eyes sharp.
"Big fish missing," he declared.
Phong was still half inside Alex's pep talk.
"Define big fish."
"Billionaire fish."
That got everyone's attention.
Rico repeated everything he had heard.
A quest.
High reward.
Search and reconnaissance for Josh.
No confirmed death.
No confirmed survival.
Just… missing.
Floor Three.
Mana interference.
Association nervous.
Investors worse.
Phong felt his stomach tighten.
Missing heirs from powerful families were never neutral events.
They created pressure.
Pressure created movement.
Movement created collateral damage.
He turned to Alex.
"Can you reach Emma? Ask what's really happening? We owe her one."
Alex hesitated.
"Floor Three is deep. Signals don't travel cleanly through mana-dense zones."
Then she sat beside him and explained more patiently.
"The deeper the floor, the thicker the ambient mana. It scrambles signal frequencies."
"That's why divers spend so much time taking footholds instead of just farming mobs."
Phong tilted his head.
"What do you mean?"
"They clear territory. Secure it. Fortify it. Build staging areas."
She gestured around the camp.
"Then they install signal amplifiers. Later, proper cable lines if the foothold holds."
"That's how communication gets pushed deeper."
He blinked.
Looked around.
The lime-oak.
The layered perimeter.
The alliances.
The defensive plants.
The infrastructure.
Then he slowly pointed at himself.
"Am I…"
He paused.
"…doing what divers do?"
Alex stared at him.
Then burst out laughing.
She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a selfie before he could protest.
Click.
She sent it to the group chat at once.
Alex:
[Look who finally realized he's one of the best divers alive if he ever decides to publicize his achievements.]
Messages poured in within seconds.
Dominic:
[Took him long enough.]
Janet:
[Welcome to awareness.]
Jake:
[Farm boy can be really dense sometimes, huh.]
Jack:
[He's speedrunning territorial control without even trying. My pride as a diver is wounded. I need emotional support.]
Phong snorted.
"I secured a patch of Floor One."
He shook his head.
"Yue Ting's team, the Russians, the reckless Vietnamese, they're scratching Floor Three."
Selena chimed in almost instantly.
[Depth isn't the only metric.]
Then another message.
[You had more control over camp Stymphalian than most high levels mobs over their territory, let alone normal divers.]
[That's different.]
Her academic tone took over fully after that.
[Most footholds are fragile. Temporary. Manpower dependent.]
[Yours? If someone wants to uproot you, it would take a floor boss.]
She wasn't exaggerating.
Treants.
Troll mountain extension.
Lizardman alliance.
Greencap cavalry.
Plant defenses.
Bamboo ant deterrence.
Camp Stymphalian was not just a farm.
It was a stabilized ecosystem.
Phong leaned back slowly.
For the first time, he let himself see it that way.
Not survival.
Not hiding.
Structured control.
Even so, he shook his head.
"Publicizing any of that would paint a target."
Alex nodded.
"Which is why you don't."
They understood each other perfectly.