An underground city was active on a forum.
Allen locked his phone, the screen went black. AbyssWalker_01's tracking data was still running in the management panel's backend, the 91% match rate bobbing up and down in the number bar, a beat slower than the dripping of a parking lot drainpipe.
He didn't dig any deeper. Not because he didn't want to—but because he couldn't dig now. The underground city's scanning permissions were stuck at level E, unable to penetrate the other party's anti-scanning barrier. Forcing it would only expose his detection frequency.
He needed to survive this first.
Allen leaned back against pillar P2-17 and closed his eyes. The management panel shrank to a corner of his field of vision; the BP counter's fluctuations were stable—three groups of challengers were still advancing through the ruined city. Nighttime visitor traffic was 40% lower than daytime, but the immersion score was higher. Darkness doubled the effect of the fear echo.
2:14 AM.
The management panel popped up its first anomaly alert. Red border.
Allen's eyes opened.
[External Monitoring Alert: Unauthorized personnel gathering detected in the area surrounding the dungeon entrance. Location: Northwest entrance of the warehouse area. Quantity: 4. Level: D×4. Behavior Pattern: Static Interception.]
Second alert.
[External Monitoring Alert: East entrance of the warehouse area. Quantity: 5. Level: D×3, D+×2. Behavior Pattern: Static Interception.]
Third alert.
[External Monitoring Alert: South main road of the warehouse area. Quantity: 4. Level: D×4. Behavior Pattern: Static Interception.]
Three roads. All blocked.
Allen switched the external monitoring to panoramic mode. Thirteen D-level lights were scattered at the three entrances surrounding the warehouse area, loosely arranged, not in combat formation—they were roadblocks.
The customer tracking module simultaneously displayed three intercepted records. Three independent adventurer teams stopped on the road approaching the warehouse area. Green lights crowded outside the roadblocks, their forward speed reduced to zero.
External audio monitoring captured a segment of conversation. A D-rank roadblocker spoke to an E-rank team, his voice neither too loud nor too soft, just loud enough for those nearby to hear.
"This area isn't safe lately. The Black Serpent Guild advises all Awakened to temporarily avoid entering the warehouse area. For your safety." Safety. Allen's back moved away from the pillar.
Not a formal member of Black Serpent. No serpent insignia, no guild uniform. The badge identification field on the management panel was empty—a "freelance contractor" from the gray zone, a lone wolf from the red hook zone, an unofficial outskirts of Black Serpent.
Assault is illegal. Roadblocking isn't.
VictorStone didn't wait forty-eight hours. He cut off the economic lifeline of the warehouse dungeon in the thirtieth hour.
Allen pulled up the BP income curve for the past six hours. Starting at midnight, the curve's slope plummeted. Four teams entered between midnight and 1 a.m. One team entered between 1 a.m. After 2 a.m.—zero.
The roadblock was deployed around 1 a.m. The timeline matched.
BP balance: 18,400. That seems like a lot. But the operational costs of the ruined city, after deducting basic energy consumption, monster respawn, trap resets, and environmental maintenance, total 120 BP per hour.
If visitor traffic drops to zero, the net loss in 24 hours is 2,880.
Allen opened the DeepRift forum. A batch of new comments appeared under the warehouse dungeon-related posts on the homepage. The posts started appearing rapidly from 1 AM.
An ID registered less than two hours ago: "I heard there's a risk of abnormal dungeon fluctuations in the Red Hook District warehouse area recently. It's not recommended to go alone or in a small group."
Another new account: "The Black Serpent Guild is assessing the security level of the area. Let's wait for the official announcement."
A third: "What if there's another outbreak? GWA's quick-response force didn't arrive until more than forty minutes later last time." The three accounts were registered at 12:47 AM, 12:51 AM, and 12:53 AM respectively. Three aliases registered within six minutes. Forum registration requires Awakener ID verification—Black Serpent has an inexhaustible supply of IDs.
Not a single comment directly attacked Architect_00. Not a single message mentioned Black Snake blocking the roads. It was all "friendly reminders," all "for everyone's safety."
Textbook tactics of information warfare. Don't slap your face, slap your customers' confidence.
Allen locked the screen.
The BP counter on the management panel jumped to 18,280 at 2:30 AM. It dropped another 120.
The phone rang.
Lina.
"There are people blocking the roads outside your warehouse. All three main roads are blocked."
Allen didn't ask how she knew. A C-rank assassin still awake at 2:30 AM—the source of the information didn't need tracing.
"I know."
"Gus said they're Black Snake's peripheral contractors. He knows two of them—he saw them when he worked for Black Snake before. D-rank. Fighting isn't a problem, but fighting would be openly breaking ties with Black Snake. Think it through."
Allen thought for five seconds. His mental map showed three possible paths.
A direct confrontation—Lina and Gus could eliminate thirteen D-ranks, but VictorStone would replace them with thirty within an hour. A war of attrition is unsustainable.
Wait—until Robert Chen's warning letter takes effect. Twenty-four hours. But BP will continue to bleed until then.
Go around.
"Can you help me bring three to five adventurer teams in via the alternative route from the south? I'll send you the route map."
"What alternative route?"
"The sewers. The third maintenance port of the old sewer system in Red Hook District is two hundred meters south of the warehouse area. From there, you can bypass all the roadblocks and go directly to the back door of the warehouse." There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone. Lina's breathing, even through the receiver, had a "Are you kidding me?" quality.
"You want me to lead guests through the sewers?"
"I'll double the completion reward for everyone who goes through the sewers."
"...Through the sewers. Double the reward."
Another two seconds.
"You really are crazy."
"Is that a compliment?"
"No. See you in fifteen minutes." Hanged up.
Allen pulled up the underground pipe network structure map of Red Hook District on the management panel. The dungeon's perception system had read the infrastructure data for this area—the metal cover of Inspection Port No. 3 was located 210 meters south of the warehouse area, between a trash can and a crooked streetlight. The inspection port was 80 centimeters in diameter, leading to a 1.2-meter-wide brick-built drainage main. The main pipe extended 360 meters northwest at a depth of 4 meters, forking twice before emerging from a drainage well in the warehouse's backyard.
The entire route did not pass through any obstructions in the ground projection area.
He sent a screenshot of the route map to Lina. He marked three points on the map—the starting point, the two forks, and the ending point. Arrows were added next to the forks: Left. Right.
Then he opened the DeepRift forum's private message list, looking for repeat users who had run the warehouse dungeon more than twice in the past week. Seventeen IDs. He filtered out those below level E- and those whose last run was more than five days ago, leaving ten.
He messaged them one by one.
The message was uniform: "The Warehouse Dungeon VIP passage is now open. Route map attached. Tonight's completion reward is x2. Password: Ashes. Report the password at Maintenance Gate 3, someone will meet you. Do not forward this message publicly." Ten private messages were sent. 2:51 AM.
One hour and fifteen minutes later, Lina emerged from the drainage well with the first team. Four people. They reeked of sewers. An E-rank team, standard setup. The mage leading the team had a green face when he climbed out of the well—not from fear, but from the green of the rusty smell of the sewers mixed with fermenting sludge.
"Next time you need to use the sewers, please let me know in advance. I'm wearing new clothes." Lina stood beside the drainage well, her crescent dagger at her waist, a gray, fluffy substance, seemingly scraped off some pipe wall, stuck to her ponytail.
"Let's go in. The entrance is inside." The four entered the ruined city.
One hour. Four teams. Two cleared the dungeon, two were wiped out.
[BP+6,400] The BP balance jumped to 22,640.
Allen marked the sewer route as "VIP passage" on the management panel and set up a passive sensing node at the entrance—any life signal approaching maintenance port number three would trigger a notification on the management panel.
The two-centimeter-long black monitor on the north wall of the warehouse sent a data pulse every thirty minutes. Seven minutes after the 1 PM pulse, Allen saw a change on the management panel.
The black snake-like lights on the perimeter of the warehouse area began to move. It wasn't the thugs blocking the three main roads—they were still in place. Two new Class C lights were coming from the southeast of the red hook area, slowly circling along the perimeter of the warehouse area.
Search mode.
The monitor captured personnel activity inside the warehouse. Challengers were entering and exiting. But the reports from the three blocking points were "no one passed through."
The math wasn't hard. Someone went in, but didn't use the main gate.
Allen reviewed the movement trajectories of the Class C lights. Their search radius expanded outwards from the center of the warehouse area. At this pace, they'd be passing the street above Inspection Port 3 in forty minutes.
There were new footprints on the inspection port cover between the dumpster and the crooked streetlight—at least seventeen pairs of feet from four teams led by Galina. Fresh scratches had worn through the rust on the metal cover. C-level observation was sufficient.
Twelve hours. Allen calculated in his head. If the sewer route held out for another twelve hours, his BP would reach the upgrade threshold. After that, it wouldn't matter if the route became unusable.
4:17 PM.
His phone vibrated. A text message. Robert Chen.
One line: "Done." Allen switched to the DeepRift forum homepage. A GWA-verified announcement was pinned to the top. Posted at 4:15 PM.
"GWA National Reaffirmation of Article 7 of the Awakener Code of Conduct." Six hundred words. No names mentioned. No mention of the Black Serpent. No mention of the Red Hook District. But everyone familiar with the situation of the past seventy-two hours could find corresponding clues between the lines. "...Any act by an Awakened of any rank that uses force, economic coercion, or social isolation to force other Awakened to sign an involuntary agreement constitutes a serious violation of Article 7. GWA will investigate all relevant leads it has." The comment section garnered over 300 comments within four minutes.
Allen only read three. That was enough.
"This is exactly what—"
"GWA finally—"
"VictorStone is going to—" A single statement couldn't stop an S-rank Awakened. But a single statement could drag covert operations into the spotlight. Black Snake blocking the road—"Security advice." Black Snake blocking the road after the GWA statement—"Suspected violation of Article 7."
The same action, but the cost tripled.
Two hours.
6:20 PM. On the management panel, the D-rank blocking points on the three main roads of the warehouse area began to move. Not a change of shifts. A retreat. All thirteen points disappeared beyond the external monitoring boundary within eight minutes.
Allen stared at the emptied heat map. Three empty roads.
Entry data from the customer tracking module started to pick up after 6:30 PM. Two teams entered through the main gate from the northwest entrance. Then three. Then four.
It wasn't just a recovery—the public opinion effect of GWA's statement on the forum turned into a wave of traffic dividends. Someone in the post's comment section was shouting: "Going to Architect's dungeon is like voting. Voting with your feet." 9 PM. BP balance: 28,700.
Allen checked the Black Snake signal distribution on the management panel. A three-kilometer radius—empty. Even the monitor on the north wall of the warehouse stopped pulses. The last data transmission was at 5:49 PM. After that, it was cut off.
Either dismantle it, or shut it down.
Too quiet.
SnakeBite didn't send any new private messages. Those sockpuppet accounts on the forum stopped activity. The entire Black Snake force evaporated from the Red Hook area—a complete retreat.
VictorStone isn't the type to retreat. Guts worked for Black Serpent for eight months, and after resigning, his registration certificate was suspended for three months. Even a D-rank warrior resigning is punished. A statement from GWA—an anonymous dungeon operator who publicly refused an S-rank guild leader—is enough to make him back down?
Allen typed two lines in his memo: "He'll be back. Next time, it won't be blocking the road. It won't be sending people. It'll be a different identity." Deleted. Retyped.
"Not a retreat. It's a change of direction." A blue notification popped up on the management panel.
[NYC-BK-0447 "Rat's Nest" has recovered from hibernation. The core has been reborn. D-rank core fragments can be extracted again.] The seventy-two-hour hibernation period ended. Rat's Nest is back online.
D-rank core fragments. The final piece of the puzzle to upgrade to a D-rank dungeon.
The problem is—Rat's Nest is a D-rank natural dungeon. Monster levels are D to D+. The boss is suspected to be C-rank. Last time he fought the E-rank Ash Sewers, he had to rely on Lina as the main force. Rank D means the overall difficulty has jumped another level.
Moreover, the Rat's Nest is Black Serpent's managed territory. The clearing of the Ash Sewers last time had already triggered Black Serpent's investigation process. The same person clearing two managed dungeons within two weeks—VictorStone wouldn't consider this harassment.
It would be a declaration of war.
Allen considered four options: 1. Launch a direct assault on the Rat's Nest and endure Black Serpent's retaliation. 2. Find other Rank D natural dungeons, but this is the only one within a five-kilometer radius. 3. Wait. Wait until he has enough power to crush a Rank D dungeon alone.
4. Allen opened the Blueprint Shop.
After the last upgrade unlocked Rank E, the shop's catalog expanded by three pages. He had only looked at the Monster and Trap sections, and hadn't opened the "Material Crafting" category at the bottom.
He scrolled to the bottom.
Material Crafting. Open.
The item list appeared. Most were grayed out and locked. Only four were lit up.
First: E-grade Energy Crystal Synthesis. 500 BP.
Second: Level 2 Trap Core Synthesis. 800 BP.
Third: Environment Theme Material Pack Synthesis. 1,200 BP.
Fourth.
Gold border.
Allen's finger hovered over the screen.
Name: [Dungeon Heart - Artificial Core Fragment (D-grade) - Synthesis Blueprint] Price: 20,000 BP.
Description: Only one line.
"No need to conquer other people's dungeons. The architect is the mine."
Current BP balance: 28,700.
Subtract 20,000. 8,700 remaining.
Add the D-grade core fragment, the 15,000 BP required for the upgrade—
Allen's thumb hovered above the buy button.
No need to raid rat lairs. No need to step into the Black Serpent's territory. No need to bring anyone.
Build it yourself.
At the bottom of the management panel, the closed black eye icon flashed.
Allen's thumb pressed down. [Purchase Successful. The D-grade Artificial Core Fragment crafting blueprint has been written to the Blueprint Library.]
[Crafting Requirements: 20,000 BP (deducted) + Crafting Time: 6 hours.]
[Crafting Progress: 0%. Estimated Completion Time—] In the upper right corner of the management panel, the BP balance jumped from 28,700 to 8,700.
Six hours.
Allen switched the management panel to the background and leaned back against the pillar. A drop of water from the drainpipe hit his feet, splashing onto his shoe.
The black eye icon stopped flashing.
But a line of extremely small text appeared next to it, one size smaller than before.
Allen didn't look closer.
The text lingered there for three seconds, then dissolved on its own.
He only had time to read the first word.
"Good."