A Flashback to the Past Two Years.
When I first told Kevius Sloth—or "Depressed Armor Dad," as I mentally called him—that I had conquered the Maze Puzzle Dungeon, he looked at me like I was a deity descended from the heavens. To the people of Arcana, this dungeon is a nightmare of logic, death traps, and psychological torture. It is a place where geniuses go to cry and warriors go to die.
To me? It was basically a two-year camping trip with really annoying door locks.
You see, for a normal adventurer, a dungeon is a test of strength and will. For a reincarnated gamer with 85 Luck and the Wiki page memorized in his soul, it's just a very long, very damp tutorial level.
Let's rewind a bit. Let me take you through the highlights of my two-year vacation in the underground.
Floors 1–10: The Gatekeeper's Depression
The entrance to the dungeon wasn't guarded by a dragon or a demon. It was guarded by a door. A very pretentious, sentient stone door with a face carved into it.
"Halt, Traveler," the Stone Face boomed, its eyes glowing red. Dust fell from the ceiling for dramatic effect. "To pass, you must answer three riddles of ancient wis—"
"Time, A Shadow, and Silence," I interrupted, picking a piece of dried meat out of my teeth.
The Stone Face froze. The red glow flickered uncertainly. "...Excuse me?"
"Those are the answers," I said, shifting my backpack. "Riddle 1 is 'What devours all birds, beasts, trees, flowers?'. That's Time. Riddle 2 is 'What gets bigger the more you take away?'. That's a Hole. Or a Shadow, depending on the patch version. Riddle 3 is 'I have no voice but I speak'. That's a Book. Can you open up? My legs are tired."
The Stone Face crumbled—emotionally, not physically. "You... you didn't even let me do the dramatic pause! I practiced the reverb on my voice for three centuries! Do you have no respect for the dungeon etiquette?"
"Open the door, Rocky," I said, patting his nose. "I have loot to find."
Click. The door swung open with a groan of defeat.
Advantage: I played Arcana for 4,000 hours. I don't just know the riddles; I know the developers' middle names.
Floors 11–30: The Walk of "Calculated" Shame
This section was known as the "Spike Hell." The floor was a chessboard of tiles. Step on the wrong one? Poison darts. Spikes. Flamethrowers. A comically large anvil.
Usually, a party would bring a Rogue with high [Trap Detect] or a Mage with [Levitate].
I brought LUCK 86 (it went up by one point after I found a penny heads-up on floor 4).
I stood at the beginning of a long corridor on Floor 13. The walls were lined with holes that clearly shot arrows. The floor looked like a death trap.
"Okay, System," I whispered. "Jesus take the wheel."
I closed my eyes and started walking.
Step.
Nothing happened.
Step.
I tripped over my own untied shoelace. "Whoops!"
I stumbled forward, flailing my arms like a windmill, and performed an accidental cartwheel. My hand landed on a specific tile.
Click.
The trap mechanism engaged, but because I had fallen flat on my face, the scythe that swung at neck-height whooshed harmlessly over my head, giving me a free haircut.
"Calculated," I muttered into the dust, my heart hammering at 200 beats per minute.
I stood up and kept walking. A pressure plate clicked under my foot.
Thwip!
A poison dart shot out of the wall.
At that exact moment, a dungeon rat scurried out of a crack in the wall, screeching, and intercepted the dart with its body. The rat died instantly.
"Rest in peace, Master Splinter," I saluted. "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten."
By the time I reached the end of the hall, I had survived twelve lethal traps purely because I sneezed, tripped, or got distracted by a shiny rock. To an outside observer, I must have looked like a drunken master of evasion. To me, I was just a clumsy kid with a guardian angel who was working overtime.
Floors 31–50: The "Advanced" Mathematics
Floor 42 was a giant classroom. A spectral teacher, floating with a ghostly ruler, blocked the path.
"Solve this, mortal!" she shrieked, pointing to a chalkboard covered in glowing runes. "If a Wyvern flies at 40 kilometers per hour against a headwind of 10 kilometers per hour, and a Gryphon departs from the opposite tower..."
I stared at the board. The "Ancient Wisdom" of this world was... lacking.
"It's simple algebra," I sighed. "X equals 3. The Wyvern arrives at 4 PM. Also, the Wyvern is stupid for flying into a headwind without casting [Wind Resistance]."
The ghost blinked. "How... how did you know? This equation has baffled sages for generations!"
"Lady," I said, rubbing my temples. "In my previous life, 5th graders solved this before lunch. Is this why the ancient civilization collapsed? Because you couldn't calculate travel velocity?"
"Insolence!" she screamed. "What about this? The Pythagorean Theorem of Magic Circles!"
"A squared plus B squared equals C squared," I recited monotonously. "Can I go now? I need to find a bathroom."
The spectral teacher exploded into dust, unable to handle the shame of being outsmarted by a pre-teen who looked like he needed a nap.
Floors 51–60: The Slime Buffet
This was where I spent most of my time. The Survival Zone.
I had run out of my dried rations around month six. I was hungry. My stomach sounded like an angry dragon.
The only inhabitants of these floors were Slimes. Blue ones, Red ones, Green ones.
"Well," I said, holding my stomach. "Protein is protein."
I set up a camp in a safe room. I used my Dark Fire skill—which, remember, is just normal fire that looks edgy—to create a smokeless bonfire.
I caught a Blue Slime.
"I'm sorry, little one," I whispered.
I roasted it on a stick.
Taste Test:
It had the texture of a rubber tire and tasted like unflavored gelatin mixed with sadness.
"Needs salt," I gagged.
But this zone was also where I leveled up. My STR was pathetic, so I couldn't fight the slimes head-on. Instead, I used the environment.
I found a room with a crushing ceiling trap. I stood in the doorway and yelled, "Hey! You jiggling blobs of EXP! Come and get me!"
A horde of slimes wobbled toward me aggressively.
I waited until they were all under the trap.
I threw a rock at the lever.
CRUNCH.
[Ding!]
[You have defeated Slime x50.]
[Level Up!]
[Level Up!]
"I am a tactical genius," I declared, looting the slime cores. This was the most passive-aggressive grinding session in history. I wasn't a warrior; I was an exterminator.
Floors 61–80: The Hall of Disappointment
The Psychological Torture Zone. This area was famous in the game for breaking the hero's spirit. The mirrors here showed you your "Greatest Fear" or your "Deepest Desire."
I walked into the Hall of Mirrors. The glass shimmered.
First, the Mirror of Fear.
A reflection appeared. It showed me... sitting in a throne room. I was wearing a crown. A massive "Emperor" cape draped over my shoulders. Thousands of people were bowing to me.
And next to me sat the 40-year-old widowed Countess, winking at me and holding a leash.
My inbox was full of urgent emails about taxes and war.
I screamed. "Turn it off! It's too horrible! The responsibility! The old wife! The paperwork!"
I shattered the mirror with a rock. "Too realistic. 0/10."
Next, the Mirror of Desire.
The glass rippled. The image formed.
It showed a small wooden porch. It was sunny. I was sleeping in a rocking chair. There was a field of potatoes growing automatically in the background. A sign on the fence read: GO AWAY. RETIRED.
There were seven adopted kids playing baseball in the yard, and none of them were asking me for money.
I shed a single tear. "It's beautiful."
The mirror started to shake. It cracked. Smoke poured out of the frame.
Apparently, my desire was so mundane, so lacking in epic ambition, that the magical construct couldn't process it. It was designed to show "World Domination" or "Infinite Harems." It didn't know how to render "A Really Good Nap."
[System Message: The Dungeon is confused by your lack of motivation.]
Floors 81–99: The Binary Choice
Finally, I reached the penultimate challenge. Floor 99.
It was a simple room. No monsters. Just two identical doors.
Above them, an inscription read: One path leads to glory (The Exit). One path leads to ruin (A lava pit). Choose wisely, for there are no clues.
In the game, this was a 50/50 RNG check. If you picked wrong, you got a Game Over.
I stood there for ten minutes.
"I could use logic," I thought. "But the architect of this place is a sadist."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a gold coin (stolen from my father's study).
"Heads, Left. Tails, Right."
I flipped the coin.
Ping.
The coin spun in the air, hit the ceiling, bounced off the left wall, ricocheted off the right wall, and rolled across the floor.
It didn't stop at either door.
It rolled into a tiny crack in the masonry between the two doors.
Click.
Rumble.
The wall between the two doors slid open.
I blinked.
Inside was a small, dusty elevator with a sign that read: Janitor Service Lift. Staff Only.
"You have got to be kidding me," I deadpanned.
While thousands of adventurers had burned to death guessing Left or Right, the cleaning crew had a dedicated elevator right in the middle. My 85 Luck had literally found the glitch in the map.
I stepped into the elevator. It smelled like lemons and old mop water. I pressed the button for "Floor 100."
Smooth jazz music started playing. Do-do-do, doo-doo.
Floor 100: The Present Day
And that brings us to now.
The elevator doors dinged open. I stepped out into the Treasure Room of Floor 100, fresh as a daisy—if a daisy hadn't showered in two years and smelled faintly of burnt slime.
I stood before the final chest. I had beaten the logic, the traps, the hunger, and the psychology. Not with strength, not with mana, but with the sheer, unadulterated power of being a lazy, lucky coward.
"Two years," I whispered, opening the chest to retrieve the Book of Hermes. "And I didn't even break a sweat. Okay, maybe I sweated a little during the slime tasting."
I looked at the loot. The teleportation book. The boots. The blueprint piece.
"Easy game," I yawned, stretching my arms until my joints popped.
I didn't know it yet, but my relaxing dungeon vacation was about to end, and the real headache involving a depressed dad in black armor was just walking through the door.
To be continued.