“Choi Ji-won, right? I’ve got a proposal. Let’s wipe out the dwarf village. What do you think?”

    This was the worst-case scenario I had feared. Players, pushed to their limits, exploding in rage and deciding to annihilate the dwarves.

    “What did we do wrong? The moment we entered the tower we faced discrimination and persecution. Aren’t they the ones throwing a tantrum? Are we supposed to just take this lying down?”

    At his signal, about twenty players emerged from behind him. Their clothes were filthy with dirt and dust, and exhaustion was etched deep into their faces.

    “...Felix?”

    “...”

    Among them was Felix, the German player. He avoided our gaze, as if aware of the immorality of his actions.

    “I’ve gathered every player on the 11th floor. Just look at them. They’re all exhausted. We’re done tolerating this unprovoked hostility.”

    The man continued with a brazen tone.

    “Some are calling for a complete massacre of the dwarves, but I think that’s excessive. However, we need to take control of this fortress. Are we really going to leave our lives in the hands of those crazy dwarves? Choi Ji-won, the Hero of the 2nd Floor—if you join us, we can easily...”

    “Hold it. Just hold on.”

    Choi Ji-won interrupted him, her expression stern.

    “We just spoke with the shopkeeper. Calm down and listen.”

    “...Did he actually talk to you?”

    “Yes.”

    Choi Ji-won scanned the group of players and recounted the conversation we’d just had with the shopkeeper.

    “So, you’re saying we only need to wait three more days?”

    “That’s correct.”

    “...”

    The man hesitated, apparently surprised we had already spoken to the dwarves. Then, a woman who had been watching from behind raised her voice.

    “Three days to leave the 11th floor? Fine. But what about the rewards we’re missing out on?”

    “...I don’t follow.”

    “Isn’t it obvious the future floors are designed under the assumption that we properly cleared the 11th floor?”

    “...”

    For once, Choi Ji-won was at a loss for words.

    The woman was right. The 12th floor and beyond would almost certainly be scaled in difficulty, assuming players had gathered proper gear on the 11th floor—armor, weapons, camping supplies, and the like.

    “What about the disadvantages we’ll face from clearing the 11th floor empty-handed? I, for one, intend to take something with me.”

    The woman’s argument struck a chord with the others, who nodded in agreement.

    “...Even so, violence is not an option.”

    “And why not?”

    “Because the dwarves are the ones who make the Transit Stones. Specifically, the shopkeeper.”

    “...”

    As soon as Choi Ji-won mentioned the Transit Stones, the murmuring among the players ceased.

    “If, by any chance, the dwarves stop making the stones, what happens then? Sure, we’ll clear the 11th floor with the stones we already have. Maybe the next group of players will find the remaining stones and clear it too. But once they run out?”

    “...Couldn’t we force them to make more? In the worst case, through torture or...”

    “Do you think they’d comply? The dwarves are stubborn to their core. They’d rather die than be oppressed.”

    Choi Ji-won had sensed it during the conversation with the shopkeeper. The dwarves were as headstrong as they come—a trait befitting master artisans.

    In fiction, dwarves are sometimes portrayed as slaves to dragons or humans, but they’re just as often depicted as a fiercely independent race that refuses to be subjugated. The dwarves on the 11th floor were unequivocally the latter.

    “Whatever you do, do not oppress them.”

    “...”

    With Choi Ji-won’s firm stance, the calls to wipe out the dwarves lost their momentum.

    “Fine, then what the hell are we supposed to do?”

    The Outburst... What followed was an eruption of pent-up frustration.

    “What did we do wrong? Isn’t it them who threw a tantrum the moment we arrived? We haven’t done a single thing wrong—why are we stuck in this mess? Am I wrong?”

    “...”

    “Why do we climb the tower? Sure, we want to grow stronger, but ultimately, it’s to save humanity, isn’t it? So why should we tolerate this kind of treatment? Why should we accept these disadvantages? Why?!”

    They weren’t entirely wrong. It was hard to blame them for feeling this way.

    The players and the dwarves—both sides had reasons to feel wronged. The true culprits had vanished without a trace, leaving the victims to hate each other.

    “...Fine. I’ll wait. Not like I have any other choice...”

    “Hah, another three days of eating grass?”

    Still, it seemed the players hadn’t completely lost their reason. They understood that waiting was the best option. Sitting down heavily on the ground, they struggled to calm themselves.

    “...Jun-ho.”

    “...Yeah.”

    The Mad Clown’s Laugh [C+] - A mushroom traditionally used to manufacture narcotics. Infused with chaotic magic, it’s named for the maddened laughter it induces in those who consume it.

    I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

    So, this guy, despite being a total fool, managed to climb this far simply because of a good trait? It made all the complaints online about not getting good traits suddenly feel so relatable.

    “What are you going to do now?”

    “...I plan to turn myself to the dwarves...”

    “Just go, then.”

    “...Okay...”

    After Mason shuffled off, rubbing his reddened eyes, Choi Ji-won and I let out a collective sigh.

    If Mason’s words were true, then the real culprit behind the dwarf murders was someone else entirely.

    The picture began to come together: Zhang Lei must have spotted Mason as an easy target. He had a drug-laced mushroom, a convenient hunting ground, and just the right victim to frame. (The fact that Zhang Lei happened to have such a mushroom is suspicious in itself, though.)

    Zhang Lei likely fed the mushroom to Mason, killed the dwarf, pocketed whatever valuables he could, and smeared blood all over the dazed Mason.

    When Mason woke up, still under the influence, he must have assumed he was responsible for the murder. No wonder the evidence for the first murder had been so glaringly obvious.

    If this theory was correct, it seemed highly likely Zhang Lei was also behind the second murder.

    “Do you think we can find Zhang Lei?”

    “And if we do, then what?”

    Choi Ji-won’s question made me shake my head.

    Even if we managed to track down Zhang Lei in the real world, then what?

    There’s no guarantee he’d confess to the crime. He’s a player, too, and not some child who’d brag about being a bad guy. Besides, he’s Chinese—it’d be hard enough to find him with their separate internet systems.

    Even if we did find him, beat him to a pulp, and gave him a taste of justice...

    It wouldn’t fix the 11th floor. It would just be venting.

    “Ugh, this is exhausting.”

    If Mason were the protagonist of some novel, I’d bet the comment section would already be filled with people saying they’d drop the story.

    The fact that a top-tier player got played by a psycho like Zhang Lei snowballed into the mess that ruined the 11th floor is just ridiculous.

    Now, there was a deep chasm of resentment between the players and the dwarves. The 11th floor seemed beyond repair.

    Would the dwarves’ anger subside if we explained the situation? Not likely. The fact remained that a player had committed a crime.

    This tangled mess of a situation...

    “...I think I can fix it.”

    “You do?”

    “But...”

    “But what?”

    “You might have to suffer a bit, Ji-won.”

    After some thought, I realized there was a solution. But it required Choi Ji-won’s full cooperation. It wasn’t an option I liked, but there weren’t any better ones.

    “I’m fine. As long as it’s not something completely insane.”

    Choi Ji-won shrugged her shoulders, looking unbothered. If she genuinely seemed okay with it, then I supposed it was fine.

    “My plan is simple: force the dwarves and players to work together.”

    “Is that even possible?”

    “There’s one thing I learned in the military.”

    “...?”

    “The easiest way to build camaraderie among awkward colleagues...”

    In schools, in workplaces, in the military—there’s one surefire way to get people to bond.

    “Give them a common enemy.”

    A shared enemy to unite them.

    That’s it.

    If there’s a common enemy, this situation can be resolved. The immediate crisis will force them to band together and develop a sense of solidarity.

    The problem?

    There isn’t a common enemy right now.

    But if there isn’t one already...

    We’ll just have to create one.

    – – – End of Chapter – – -

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