WebNovels

Chapter 17 - Chapter 17: Let’s Call Today’s Dungeon Here

Find a way to blow them to hell.

Su Ming calculated his experience gain rate. Leveling didn't reduce the rate, so even if he died here, farming along this route would still get him another level by tomorrow at the latest. If he got stuck today, he'd break through tomorrow.

So he chose the simplest answer:

Fighting is fun.

Let me see how sharp your two-dog godslayer formation really is!

Su Ming flicked his sword, scattering the black blood of undead onto the floor, and charged the skybridge.

As expected, the two charging beasts had a surprisingly clean synergy. They attacked at once, both launching into a charge. On the narrow bridge, there wasn't even a sliver of space to dodge.

Then I slide under.

This time, with improved technique and stats, Su Ming used a different response. In the middle of their rush, he dropped his center of gravity and slid under the charge, slipping behind them.

But unlike before, they didn't smash into a wall and go into a long stagger. No free punish window.

So neither running nor backstabbing was viable.

Kiting like this was pointless. He'd have to face them head-on.

Su Ming also wanted to test the power of their rotating wing-blades. Before, he'd always baited a thrust and one-shot them. This time he'd measure it.

He estimated their wingspan and eased closer, stopping at the edge of their attack range.

No immediate swing… waiting for me to commit and get closer?

He watched their movements. If he attacked one, the other would likely slice him in half with its wing-blade.

Tch. If he kept stalling, they'd move first anyway.

He decided to end the standoff. A sliding step forward—he used his blade tip to probe the wing-blade.

Clink!

Charging Beast #1 spun its wing-blade without mercy, knocking Su Ming's thrust off-line. Charging Beast #2 lunged in, its wing-blade spinning again.

Whoosh—

The wing-tip passed in front of Su Ming's eyes. The wind edge almost cut his eyeball. He retreated awkwardly, but Charging Beast #1 gave him no breathing room. As it advanced, the wing-blade rotated into his face again.

Clink!

Su Ming raised his sword in a hurried block, but still got his wrist cut. Blood dripped down his arm—only to drive the beasts into further frenzy.

Charging Beast #2 actually folded its wing-blade, charged power for a brief moment, and then slammed straight into Su Ming.

Hold—hold, damn it!

He couldn't dodge in time. He raised his sword horizontally as a bar.

Metal shrieked against armor, sparks exploding—yet somehow, whether due to his greatly improved Strength and Constitution, he not only stopped the berserk rush, he even carved a hairline fracture into the hardest front plating.

Hah. That's it? I'm still—

…Huh?

Su Ming's vision suddenly went black.

And he respawned in the system space.

Ending:

[Su Ming]

…Ow.

Back in reality, Su Ming opened his eyes. This time he didn't jolt. He'd died enough that even pain had become background noise. And the charging beast's signature move hardly hurt at all.

But his Spirit was running low.

On the first dungeon day, inexperience had cost him too much Spirit on death. Today's recovery plus the effect of Accelerated Thinking only restored about 2.5—probably because he only obtained that talent in the afternoon. He estimated tomorrow he'd regain about 3 Spirit.

And the problem with low Spirit was daytime fatigue. It tanked his productivity at work. He'd already felt it today.

So he set a standard: keep Spirit around 12.

Yesterday dropped too low to fully recover, so today's allowed consumption was 2 points. Once he recovered tomorrow, he could spend 3 again.

He'd already died twice.

Dungeon time over. Sleep.

That's enough for today. Charging beasts—tomorrow I'll come practice on you again.

Su Ming hugged Mei close, kissed her gently, and closed his eyes.

Morning.

Perhaps because Su Ming hadn't spent much Spirit today—and because Mei had been more "worked over" than usual last night—when Su Ming woke up, Mei was still sleeping heavily in his arms.

The room was dark. Only a thin seam of dawn light slipped through the curtains and fell onto the bedside.

Su Ming carefully lifted Mei's head onto the pillow, slipped out of bed, and put on his clothes.

Now the real question: when opening the door, should he open it gently—or push it hard—so it wouldn't wake Mei?

Having experienced far too many "gentle opens" that still produced an unbearable creak, Su Ming decided to go with a hard push.

Success.

He didn't risk closing it again. After washing up, he headed into the domain of the "Herrscher of Food."

Everyone knows: when the Herrscher of Food is in her territory, you do not challenge her authority. But when she's not around, things are negotiable—especially when her lover wants to make her a breakfast of love.

As a traveler from Shenzhou, Su Ming could cook a bit. But after being spoiled by Mei for years, he wasn't about to show off. So he chose something simple.

When the minced meat he'd chopped slipped into the rolling congee, he heard Mei stirring awake. He called out:

"Honey, you go take a shower first—the congee needs a bit longer!"

"Okay~" Mei answered from the bedroom.

The water in the bathroom ran with a steady rush, mixing with the soft bubbling of congee. It scratched at Su Ming's self-control, but he knew he couldn't abandon his post—otherwise the Herrscher of Food wouldn't forgive him for committing a kitchen disaster in her territory.

He stirred occasionally to prevent scorching. Congee was easy and hard at once: the key was heat control and seasoning.

When the pot stopped threatening to boil over, he moved the clay pot off the burner to rest, then stir-fried some greens. A simple breakfast, complete.

"Hubby—help me blow-dry my hair~"

Fresh from the shower, Mei called again.

People who date regularly know: blow-drying your girlfriend's or wife's hair is a suffering mask. Half an hour minimum, and if you do it wrong you'll get scolded.

But after years of practice—especially with Mei's long hair—Su Ming's technique had reached a near-mastery.

Maybe that was exaggerated. But with a scientifically optimized process, he could cut it to fifteen minutes and keep her hair healthier too.

In any case, by the end—under his careful hands and warm air—Mei went soft and lazy, collapsing into his arms with rare, needy affection.

"All right. Let's eat."

He finished applying hair oil and nudged her gently.

"Carry me over~" Mei murmured, half-lidded, leaning into his shoulder.

"Okay, okay. As you command, my lady."

Usually Mei took care of him, so when she indulged in a little willfulness, he happily complied.

"Hold tight. Here we go~"

With 12 Strength, carrying one Mei was effortless. In a few steps, he set her down at the table.

"Why does it feel like you've gotten stronger?" Mei frowned slightly. His arms were noticeably more solid; it was hard not to notice when she leaned on him.

"Obviously I trained with you, my dear wife."

He tried to laugh it off.

"You really know how to talk." Mei remembered how much faster and stronger he'd been last night—so strong she'd barely been able to resist—and her face reddened for a heartbeat. She lightly punched his chest.

"Okay, okay. Enough teasing. Eat before it gets cold."

He set the congee in front of her and waited—eagerly—for judgment.

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