CHAPTER 26: CHAPTER NO.26 DUNGEON (1)

[Location: Morningstar Manor, New York]

But before I dive into the Dungeon, I should open those ’Random Loot Box’. One per daily quest, so I have six unopened ones, as I had already opened the first one, which gave the very same ’Dungeon Key.’

My fingers twitched with something between eagerness and dread. The glowing inventory screen—visible only to me, thank Lucifer—shimmered like a taunting casino slot machine.

Six unopened boxes.

Six chances at power.

Six chances at humiliation.

I exhaled through my nose. "Well, let’s roll the dice, shall we?"

The first box expanded, shattering into shards of light.

[Opening Random Loot Box...]

A sharp chime cut the air, followed by a shimmer of red glass.

[Congratulations! You have obtained: Minor Recovery Potion x3]

Three slim vials appeared in my inventory, each glowing faintly crimson, liquid swirling lazily inside like watered-down blood. They hovered for a moment before dropping neatly into my item slots.

"...Really?" My voice was flat.

I pulled one vial out. Up close, it looked like cough syrup sold at Walmart—cheap, suspiciously sweet, and guaranteed to taste like regret.

[Item: Minor Recovery Potion]– Heals 15% HP instantly.– Removes minor fatigue.– Cannot cure status ailments above Tier E.

"Fifteen percent? That’s it?" I pinched the bridge of my nose. "If my guts are spilling on the floor, fifteen percent isn’t going to put me back together—it’s going to keep me alive just long enough to say ’damn, I should’ve written my will.’"

Still, as weak as it seemed, the System didn’t hand out junk for no reason. A potion that erased fatigue? That had its uses. Especially after Grayfia’s nightly marathons disguised as ’training sessions.’ My lips twitched upward.

"Fine, cough syrup. You get to stay. Just don’t expect me to brag about you at parties."

The potions slid back into my inventory, tucked neatly away. My attention snapped to the second box.

[Opening Random Loot Box...]

A glimmer, a flash, then the words appeared.

[Congratulations! You have obtained: +3 Stats Points]

Now that was something I could respect.

My eyes sharpened. Free stat points weren’t just numbers—they were the closest thing to direct evolution. My fingers itched like I’d just been handed a god’s credit card.

I flicked the panel. The translucent grid of my stats appeared, glowing faintly. Strength already monstrous. Agility? Coming along. Intelligence? Useful, but not urgent. Stamina, though...

My lips curled. "Yeah. Stamina. Because if Grayfia puts me through another five-round-or-death scenario, I need to make sure it’s her who collapses first, not me." (Just kidding, unless I become at least an SS rank beast like her.)

[Stamina: 87 → 90][HP: 870/870 → 900/900]

The change was immediate. My chest expanded with a breath that felt deeper, cleaner, as if my lungs had been scrubbed and reforged. My veins thrummed, muscles coiling tighter, like the System had reached in and re-threaded every fiber of my body. Even my spine felt straighter, balance sharper, footsteps quieter.

I rolled my shoulders, listening to the satisfying crack-crack of joints realigning. "Ohhh~ yeah, that’s the good stuff."

The System wasn’t just handing me numbers. It was sculpting me. Reminding me that my flesh wasn’t flesh anymore—it was clay, and I was the sculptor with a cheat’s chisel.

Satisfied, I tucked the panel away and pulled up the third box.

[Opening Random Loot Box...]

The glow was different this time. Softer, almost mocking.

[Congratulations! You have obtained: Premium Tissue Paper]

I froze.

"...What."

My expression went blank.

A small packet of tissues appeared in my inventory, neat white squares folded with reverence, a ridiculous golden label printed across the front in cursive: Premium SilkTouch: The Wipe of Kings.

Silence. Then, slowly, a sound that might’ve been a laugh clawed its way up my throat.

"Really, System? Really? After potions, after stat points, you hand me—" I pulled the packet out, holding it up like evidence in a trial, "—luxury tissue paper?"

I rubbed the corner between my fingers. To be fair, it was soft. Stupidly soft. Like clouds woven into cloth, or the kind of silk nobles used to flaunt at dinner parties.

[Item: Premium Tissue Paper]– Ultra-soft. Does not tear easily.– Absorbs mana residue.– Can wipe away minor curses, hexes, and negative energy traces.

I stopped mid-sarcasm.

"...Wait a second."

The description blinked in my face. My grin widened.

"So you’re telling me this is... magical Kleenex?"

I imagined wiping demon blood off my hands mid-battle, the tissue absorbing not just the mess but the lingering miasma. Or clearing curses with nothing but a wipe. Or, hell, blowing my nose in the face of a Satan and watching their hex crumble.

"...Okay. I take it back. You might actually be useful, Tissue-chan." I pocketed it carefully, almost reverently.

But my smirk remained sharp. "Still, System... premium tissue paper? Are you trolling me, or are you just preparing me for Grayfia’s tears when I finally beat her record?"

The corridor echoed with my low chuckle. Three boxes down. Two to go.

[Opening Random Loot Box...]

The fourth box split apart like glass under a hammer. A flash of green light burst out before condensing into a small crystal sphere that hummed faintly in my palm.

[Congratulations! You have obtained: Mana Shard x1]

I raised an eyebrow. "Mana Shard, huh? What am I supposed to do with this, juggle it?"

The System chimed again, almost smugly.

[Item: Mana Shard]– Contains purified E-rank mana essence.– Can restore 100 MP instantly upon use.– Can be absorbed into compatible equipment to enhance performance.

I stared at it. Then back at my MP stat.

[MP: 0/600]

"...Oh, you son of a—"

Right. I had zero mana. Literally zero. Not a drop to my name.

This thing was basically a gourmet steak served to a starving man who’d been born without a mouth.

I rolled the shard in my hand, glaring at it like it was mocking me. "Yeah, laugh it up, System. Real funny. Give the man with no mana a mana battery. I’m sure the irony is delicious to you."

Still... I slipped it into my inventory. Because if I ever unlocked mana, or if this shard could be fed into something else later, I wasn’t about to throw away a possible ace.

Besides... nothing the System gave was truly useless. Not even the tissues.

I tapped the next box.

[Opening Random Loot Box...]

This time, the glow was faint blue. I braced myself for either trash or treasure.

[Congratulations! You have obtained: Skill – Sprint ]

My eyes widened.

"...Oh ho. Now we’re talking."

[Skill: Sprint (Active)]

– Rank: Depends on Agility

– Cost: 5 SPIRAL per activation

– Effect: allows the user to increase their speed by 30% at the cost of 1 SPIRAL per minute.

I frowned at the glowing panel.

"Okay, it’s all well and good, but why can’t I see how much SPIRAL reserve I have? Like I can see HP, and that useless MP..."

The System chimed.

[SPIRAL is a hidden stat. It cannot be quantified directly.]

"Hidden?" I muttered, my jaw tightening. "So, what—you’re telling me I’m running on vibes and anime protagonist willpower?"

[SPIRAL represents the metaphysical convergence of spirit, soul, and resolve. Its value fluctuates depending on the user’s condition, determination, and emotional state.]

I stared at the screen, deadpan. "So, literally willpower. You’ve turned shounen speeches and mental breakdowns into a battery system."

The System didn’t respond. Which, in my head, meant it was smugly smirking at me.

I rubbed my temples. "Great. So if I’m moody, depressed, or just not ’feeling it,’ I can’t even run faster than a mall cop? Perfect. Absolutely perfect."

But deep down... I couldn’t deny the thrill that ran down my spine. SPIRAL wasn’t like MP or HP. It wasn’t raw muscle or cold numbers. It was me. My fire. My soul. My refusal to bend.

And if there was one thing I had in endless supply, it was stubborn, defiant willpower.

My lips curved faintly. "Fine. Sprint it is. Guess I’ll have to learn how to weaponise my mood swings."

The notification blinked away, and I turned to the last unopened box. My pulse quickened, a mix of dread and excitement pooling in my gut. Five rolls had given me potions, stats, tissues, mana-bait, and Sprint. That meant the sixth...

I cracked my knuckles. "Alright, System. No more tissues. Give me something worthy."

[Opening Random Loot Box...]

Light burst, sharp and brilliant. My breath caught.

[Congratulations! You have obtained: Muramasa Blade (Replica)]

Hoooray Shit!

The panel flickered, and in the next heartbeat, weight settled into my hand. Cold. Balanced. Beautiful.

A sword.

Not just any sword—black steel, faintly rippling like liquid shadow frozen mid-wave, its edge lined with a hungry crimson sheen. The hilt was wrapped in dark cloth, tight enough to promise grip even when slick with blood. A faint vibration hummed up my arm, like the weapon was... alive.

[Item: Muramasa Blade (Replica)]

– Rank: ??? (Bound)

– Effect: Increases physical damage output by 35%.

– Lifesteal: Converts 5% of inflicted damage into HP.

– Malice: The longer combat continues, the sharper the blade becomes (+1% damage per minute of continuous battle).

– Bound to User. Cannot be dropped, stolen, or sold.

– Limitation: Being a replica, its growth potential is capped unless ???.

I nearly dropped it. "...Are you kidding me?"

The System chimed again, almost smug.

[Note: Even a replica of a cursed blade thirsts for a worthy hand.]

The sword thrummed in my hand like a living pulse.

Not loud. Not violent. Just... hungry.

"...Great," I muttered, tilting the blade so the crimson sheen caught the kitchen lights. "My first real weapon and it comes with trust issues."

The edge glimmered faintly, humming in sync with my heartbeat. Every shift of my grip felt natural, like the blade already knew me. My muscles didn’t resist. They welcomed it.

[Bound: Muramasa Blade (Replica) has synchronised with User.]

I exhaled sharply, shoulders rolling back. "So it’s not just cursed, it’s clingy too. Figures."

But I couldn’t deny it—the weight was right. Too right. When I flicked it through the air, the hum grew sharper, like a predator catching the scent of prey. My arm felt lighter, stronger, like the System had fused steel into my bones.

And then the kicker hit me:

[Effect Activated: Lifesteal. Continuous battles will extend survivability.]

I stared at the panel. My lips slowly curled into a grin. "...Okay. You win. I like you, you bloodthirsty bastard."

Not just a sword. A crutch. A cheat layered on top of my cheat. The System wasn’t just nudging me anymore—it was handing me keys to kick down the damn door.

I twirled the blade once more, let it hum, then willed it back into inventory. The crimson light flickered once before vanishing into the void.

Silence.

And then I chuckled. Low. Sharp. Almost manic.

"Alright then... time to grind."

The [Dungeon Key] pulsed in my other hand, a faint glow beckoning me toward the manor’s basement. A ripple of anticipation ran through me. The loot boxes were warmups, the foreplay. This—this was where the System really wanted me.

Hell wasn’t waiting. Neither were the Satans. Neither was Grayfia.

But the dungeon?

The dungeon was mine.

I cracked my neck, eyes narrowing. "Alright, you E-rank death trap... let’s see what you’ve got."

***

Stone me, I can take it!

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