Chapter 92: Scam

James and the group were teleported back to the warehouse complex. As the familiar earth and industrial buildings filled their view, the soldiers—who had just brushed with death—cheered and embraced one another.

“We beat it! We beat a dungeon! Ahaha!”

“Yeah!”

They clung to each other, reveling in the achievements they just made. James had expected elite soldiers to act all stoic and cold-blooded, but he didn’t mind them breaking the stereotype. It humanized them. Made him care about them more than he expected.

James sighed, glancing at the three corpses strapped to his raptor. They were exuding a rotting smell.

Soldiers and guards manning the warehouse perimeter rushed in after reporting to their superiors. They embraced their returning comrades, joining in the celebration.

“Sir! Any wounded?” one guard asked, stepping up to James. On his hand was a walkie talkie, ready to call an ambulance or helicopter on site.

“Nah. I just need a soft bed. It’s hard sleeping on dungeon floors,” James replied. Heavy machines buzzed around the warehouse like ants, unloading supplies that had been locked inside since the dungeon’s appearance.

“Yes, sir! A small motel will be prepared ASAP.”

“Um…” James blinked. He hadn’t meant that in a literal sense, but the soldiers hailed his comms to reserve him a cab and drive him to a nearby hotel.

“No need. Just care for the fallen soldiers first. They’re starting to stink.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll call for an ambulance.”

“Three ambulances. We lost three.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We finally returned to the civilized world!” the soldier shouted as he bit into a cheeseburger—the symbol of American comfort food in a nearby restaurant. Others wiped down their dusty M16s that they left their friends with.

Even though they had returned in the middle of the night, it took less than an hour for Silas to show up at the site. Several guild officials arrived with him.

“James! Welcome back!” Silas beamed. “I knew I could count on you. And it looks like you even brought our boys back—well, most of them, I guess. Good job! The equipment in the warehouse you just freed will be put to good use.”

“Cut the chatter. Are you here just to congratulate me?” James asked, inspecting the map. “I conquered a dungeon, but the warehouse complex isn’t fully cleared, is it?”

“There’s another novice-level dungeon here,” James added. “That’s the one I was about to take on.”

“Regarding that, Mr. James,” Silas said, “Mr. Andrew and Kouki are expecting you to join them for a medium dungeon raid—you know, the one at the nuclear complex. We would very much appreciate your presence.”

Sensing James frowning, he added, “While I understand a medium dungeon will be a new challenge, with three experienced conquerors—yourself, Kouki, and Mr. Andrew—I believe we can overcome any odds. Mr. Andrew returned safely from his first medium dungeon and confirmed it was conquerable.”

James was interested in a new challenge. James knew he couldn’t rely on novice dungeons forever. Even though they were still dangerous, new challenges brought new opportunities. And without new recruits to babysit this time, joining Andrew and Kouki seemed like the logical next step. James was hoping he could level up and have better loot in a medium dungeon.

“When do we leave? I need to sort out some equipment first,” James asked.

“Of course. We’ll spare no expense or effort to conquer both dungeons. You may take any equipment the guild has in storage,” Silas replied. “As for departure, we’ll wait until Kouki finishes his raid. Mr. Andrew returned just last week. Kouki has been in his dungeon for seven weeks now. I expect him to emerge any day.”

“Alright.” James nodded. “I’ll wait at my supermarket.”

“Of course.” Silas bowed.

Now that James was a superstar, reporters wasted no time flocking to him, bombarding him with interview requests. But James, ever the recluse, didn’t indulge them in the slightest. He hopped in a cab and returned to his supermarket.

“Mr. James! I was worried when I heard there were casualties in the dungeon. I’m glad to see you back safe and sound,” said Ryan, the CEO of James’ new supermarket. He was keeping tabs on the news of James’ dungeon by the guild.

“So, did you find buyers for the stone?”

“Of course, sir. I’ve sold them for one million dollars each,” Ryan said.

“Alright. I won’t be bringing too many of these things. You can try to auction them and ask for the highest price. Ah—but don’t sell all of them just yet. Keep half. Who knows, maybe the guild wants them.”

“Roger. Incidentally, there are some survivors who asked us to auction their dungeon-related goods. They also expressed interest in working for us. I took the liberty of putting them on the payroll—for now. But what do you think? I haven’t promised them permanent employment, so we can dismiss them whenever we want,” Ryan added.

James arched an eyebrow. “Survivors, huh? From which dungeon? People only get the system after killing their first monster in a dungeon. If there are survivors here, that means they’ve completed at least one dungeon.”

“Yes. Several groups of desperate people have rushed into dungeons over the past few months without regard for their safety. Some of them actually succeeded.”

“They succeeded? You’re saying they cleared a novice dungeon without going through the trial dungeons first?” James’ eyes widened.

“That’s what they claim. I have no way to verify if they’re lying or not. They’ve given me several weapons, saying they came from the dungeon,” Ryan said, motioning for a staff member to bring over a trolley.

The staff wheeled over several cases. Inside were two axes, a few swords, and a bow.

James inspected them one by one. “Ah… These are all fakes—except for this bow. This one’s real. The system didn’t react to any of the others. This is a standard-issue bow. A starter weapon granted by the system.”

“I see…” Ryan said. He frowned. “The owner of that bow wanted to work for you. But unlike the others, he has no desire to go back into a dungeon. He’s clearly traumatized. If you can vouch for him being a real survivor, I can hire him. We could use someone trustworthy to verify the goods brought in or checking the dungeons we raided. Many people claim to be survivors, but many just want the benefits without becoming combatants.”

“Hm? They aren’t employed by the guilds? And do we really need survivors?” James, being the oblivious man he was, tilted his head.

“They considered joining. But since the guild pushes hard for artifacts to be claimed as guild property, many are looking for alternatives. And possibly, the guild realized some of them are fakes. Non-survivors like me have no system access, so there’s no way for me to verify if something is a genuine dungeon item. The guild already has several survivors working as officials—they don’t need more survivors who can’t pull their weight inside dungeons.”

“Hm? They didn’t do that to me.”

“I believe the guild doesn’t want to oppose you, Mr. James. You’re too famous now. Plus, it’s been proven that you can clear dungeons solo or even with non-survivors. They can’t put a leash on you.” Ryan said this matter-of-factly.

James, once a mediocre salaryman before dungeons descended upon Earth, was unaccustomed to politics or the power games that came with status.

“I see…”

“While you were away, the guild also introduced a quota system. Combat survivors—those who actively raid—must clear at least two dungeons per year to stay on the guild’s payroll. Of course, since you’ve already cleared five dungeons this year, this doesn’t apply to you, Mr. James.”

James frowned. The dreaded quota. It reeked of corporate mandates. A sort of PTSD surged through him, one he couldn’t shake even after becoming part monster. He could feel it in his bones—the quotas would creep up. From two, to four, then to six. Clearing a dungeon took a month or two at best. That meant he could only clear six dungeons a year. If the guild enforced such numbers, James would be forced to live in the dungeon without breaks.

“Nobody complained?”

“Well, I haven’t seen any defectors from the guild. The rule was only imposed last week, after all. Most combat survivors are probably still in their dungeons.”

“I also took the liberty of employing several veteran soldiers as guards. They explicitly said they wanted to join you on your next expedition.”

“No. The next dungeon I’m conquering is a medium-level one. Kouki and Andrew will be there,” James said matter-of-factly. He then glanced at the account book—and his eyes widened in shock.

“One million dollars to hire these guys?! What the hell?”

“Yes. Forty veteran soldiers and over four hundred people claiming to be survivors. They brought weapons, and some of them conjured food or tools seemingly out of thin air. I’m sorry, but I had no way to verify them. But if you could confirm even one or two as genuine survivors, it would speed things up,” Ryan replied calmly. “Is there any way for fellow survivors to recognize each other? Also, these weren’t the only items brought—we stored the rest in the back warehouse.”

“Call them all. These so-called survivors,” James sighed. A million dollars will not make a dent in his wallet, especially since the shop had profited from the ten gems sold at a million each. Still, the fact that he’d been scammed left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Right away, sir.” Ryan motioned to his staff to call the new arrivals.

“…I thought there were 400,” James muttered when only twenty people showed up.

“I believe I’ve been scammed, sir,” Ryan admitted, dejected. “I’ve contacted our lawyers and pressed charges.”

“Well, never mind. I’ll handle this properly. I’ll inspect them one by one. The rest of you, please wait outside. You—identify this bow. What does your system say?”

James began the interview process. Among all the applicants, only ten answered correctly. Three of them admitted they no longer wished to enter dungeons—they had survived the trial dungeons but chose to stay hidden until now. The other ten that failed pleaded with James, desperate for employment, willing to take any job.

James was reminded once again: dungeons weren’t a game. They were filled with real danger.

Not even a day after the interviews, James received a call from Silas. Kouki had returned.

And the preparations for a medium-level dungeon raid were finally underway.