Returning to the stone pillar forest, Eric sat on the ground for a long while before regaining her composure.
This mission had consumed three healing kits!
Such expenses were unbearable—half her supplies spent in a single day.
Bitterly, she reflected on how ordinary dungeons yielded so few points, some with formidable challenges. Alas.
Once again, she realized that one day she would inevitably have to attempt a supernatural dungeon.
As she exited the ordinary dungeon's gate, she spotted Samuel awaiting her in the quest hall. Upon seeing her, he rose and waved warmly: "Shall we dine together?"
Eric agreed, eager to discuss the dungeon with him.
They proceeded to the restaurant, each ordering egg fried rice.
Samuel inquired how long Eric had been here, revealing first: "I've been running ordinary dungeons for a year."
"A month," Eric fabricated, though it had been less than a week.
"I thought so; you seemed a bit inexperienced," Samuel replied, a hint of disappointment in his tone. "Ah, accumulating points is so difficult. Each ordinary dungeon grants only four points, yet the healing kits we used this time cost more than that. It's a net loss!"
"Exactly! This dungeon was brutally tough—a bleeding loss!" Eric vented.
When the egg fried rice arrived, they began to eat.
Neither spoke during the meal, but once finished, Samuel said frankly, "I'll be blunt: I intend to sell information about ordinary dungeons—knowledge born from my own experience, accompanied by my strategies. If you're interested, find me at Hotel 2997; I'm a long-term resident there."
So that was it—they were selling intel. No wonder Samuel's expression upon learning she'd only been here a month was tinged with regret. She was obviously strapped for resources, incapable of trading with him.
Eric had never considered purchasing such information.
Though disappointed, Samuel did not relent. "The price isn't steep—you give me thirty healing kits, and I'll share all the dungeon intel I've compiled over the past year."
Spending thirty ordinary healing kits to buy information? She'd rather invest those healing kits in missions—tuition for her own education and experience.
"My points only cover meals and lodging. Could we barter instead? Exchange dungeon information?"
Samuel's enthusiasm waned. A newcomer of a mere month could not have completed many dungeons—what value could her strategies hold? Perhaps the intel she'd offer was scant, making the exchange uneven and disadvantageous for him.
Since Samuel's aim was not genuine exchange, Eric lost interest in further conversation—and he in hers.
They parted ways, Eric retiring to her hotel to rest. After some exercise, she slipped beneath the covers to sleep.
In her dreams, she saw herself delving into a man's chest and extracting a still-beating heart. The viscous sensation, the acrid scent of blood, the pulse thumping in her hand—all stirred in her a primal urge to scream.
Eric awoke with a start, staring into the dark ceiling for a long, long time before exhaling heavily and closing her eyes once more.
She rose early to exercise, then after breakfast, strolled to the stone pillar forest—the site of the supernatural dungeon. This area saw fewer players, avoiding the congestion caused by a sudden influx of newcomers.
Shortly past ten in the morning, Eric entered the dungeon.
Towering tropical trees formed a dense canopy, filtering sunlight into myriad delicate dapples upon the forest floor. The air was thick with damp heat, and the incessant buzz of summer insects grated on her nerves. Eric looked upward, then turned her gaze to preparations—binding her pant legs and sleeves tightly to prevent insects from crawling inside.
As she busied herself, five figures materialized silently nearby—all players from the same batch had now arrived.
While she ground soil with a twig and rubbed the powdered earth onto her exposed ankles, one spoke: "Is everyone here? Any newcomers fresh from a dungeon?"
No one nodded in response.
The man seemed somewhat satisfied. "That's good. Since we're all seasoned veterans of ordinary dungeons, we ought to understand the key to conquering this jungle dungeon. Cooperation is essential if we are to locate the halo. If there are no objections, let us set forth together."
"Alright then, which direction shall we take?"
"Indeed, there's not a single clue."
"Don't rush. The dungeon has just begun; the real dangers have yet to emerge. When peril arrives..." he cast a meaningful glance at the group, "we will know precisely how to act. Until then, let us prepare. Young lady, you're quite astute—you're nearly ready."
Eric felt the gaze of the others fix upon her, and she responded with poised confidence. "Yes, I've seen this on television—this protects our skin from mosquitoes and insects."
"Exactly! Everyone, do likewise!"
The woman who stepped forward to lead appeared to be in her early forties, speaking with brisk decisiveness. Formerly a director at a certain company, she held a modest leadership role. Everyone addressed her simply as Miss Zhuang. Miss Zhuang had an intense disdain for players who defied orders: "Idiot players! They make the dungeon infinitely more difficult!"
Among the six, only she and Eric were women. With swift authority, Miss Zhuang seized command within this improvisational, inexperienced team and immediately began to draw closer to Eric. As she smeared mud upon her neck, she complained, "Last time, it was a forest dungeon—wolves, tigers, lions chasing us relentlessly! We nearly ran ourselves to death. When we finally found a cliff to rest at, a giant python appeared. You know why? One player secretly pocketed a snake egg without telling anyone. Can you imagine the betrayal? Two people died because of that; he himself was swallowed whole by the python later..."
"Would you say then, sister, that we shouldn't pick up things recklessly?"
Eric, perceiving her intent, nodded in agreement. "Miss Zhuang is right; I shall be cautious not to indiscriminately collect items."
Pleased, Miss Zhuang took comfort in her prudence.
She cast a glance at the other four male players but refrained from lecturing them, wary that they might rebel.
After a brief period of arming themselves simply, the six set out together.
Soon, Eric heard rustling deep within the foliage.
Each person fashioned a crude weapon from branches; upon hearing the noise, the group instinctively halted.
"Nothing's coming out—what is that sound?" one player muttered nervously. "Could it be a ghost?"
"What ghost! This is an ordinary dungeon, not a supernatural one. There are no ghosts here!" Miss Zhuang urged, proposing they continue so as not to linger unnecessarily.
They pressed onward.
Eric frequently caught those fleeting, whispering rustles at varying distances, yet nothing emerged.
"This is suspicious—there aren't even any small animals," Miss Zhuang murmured under her breath.
A chill ran down Eric's spine.
Another player lowered his voice. "From my experience, there's likely a large beast in this rainforest. Its dominating presence drives all lesser creatures away." He swallowed nervously. "We must tread carefully."
"There's something there—" Eric caught a glimpse of something.
All turned to look.
"It looks like... clothing?"
They cautiously approached a tree and found a tattered sheet emitting a foul, rank odor. Miss Zhuang prodded it with a stick, her expression darkening. "This isn't a sheet—that's snake shed skin!"
The players collectively inhaled sharply. As Miss Zhuang unfurled the massive shed across the ground to gauge its width, a heavier gloom settled upon them.
"It's from a giant python," her voice trembling.
Compared to packs of wolves, tigers, or lions, a colossal python over three meters thick presented an overwhelming, crushing threat.
"Let's—let's leave this place. The snake shed is here... I fear the python is nearby..."
Before she could finish, the sound returned. A massive serpentine head descended from above, its forked tongue flicking swiftly as cold, red eyes locked onto the group—unyielding and merciless.
The oppressive aura of domination and dread was absolute; Eric momentarily forgot to breathe.