"Ignis," Sylvia repeated. The name tasted like ash in her mouth. "Dragon Empress. That sounds... combustible."
The spectral blade hovered one millimeter from the bridge of my nose. I could feel the cold radiating from it, which was ironic, considering she was talking about fire.
"Sylvia, listen," I said, raising my hands in a surrender motion. "I don't know who she is. I don't know who any of them are. The System is broken. It was supposed to give me a rusty dagger, and it gave me... well, a demographic crisis."
Sylvia narrowed her diamond-sharp eyes. She leaned in, sniffing my collar.
"You smell like fear," she whispered. "And cheap laundry detergent."
"That's the scent of an F-Rank Porter, yes."
"But you do not smell like sulfur." She pulled back, the giant spectral sword dissolving into motes of light. A terrifyingly sweet smile replaced the scowl. "Good. If you smelled like a dragon, I would have had to trim your nose off. For symmetry."
I swallowed. "Right. Symmetry. Very important."
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION][RELATIONSHIP STATUS UPDATE: SYLVIA][CURRENT MOOD: CAUTIOUSLY POSSESSIVE][JEALOUSY METER: 85% >>> 40%]
I exhaled, my knees finally giving out. I slumped against the cold stone wall of the Boss Room. The Minotaur's corpse had fully disintegrated, leaving behind the only thing that mattered to a guy with 5,000 gold in debt:
The Drop.
A fist-sized, pulsating purple Mana Stone sat in the dust.
Calculations ran through my head instantly. A Floor 1 Boss Stone. Low grade, but because it's a solo clear, the purity would be high. Market value: maybe 800 Gold. It wasn't enough to clear the debt, but it would buy me a week of not having my kneecaps broken by loan sharks.
"Money," I wheezed. "Sylvia, can you give me a second? I need to loot this."
Sylvia floated—she didn't walk, she hovered an inch off the ground—over to the stone. She looked at it with disdain. "A condensed lump of impure mana. Trash."
"One man's trash is another man's rent payment."
I crawled over, grabbed the heavy stone, and tapped the air. "Inventory."
The blue screen popped up. I moved to drag the Mana Stone icon into the grid.
BZZZT.
A harsh red error message flashed across my vision.
[ERROR: INVENTORY FULL][SLOTS USED: 100/100][CAPACITY REACHED. PLEASE EXPAND INVENTORY OR DISCARD ITEMS.]
I stared at the screen.
"Discard?" I whispered.
I looked at Slot 100. [Unknown Entity]. I tried to drag it to the trash can icon.
BZZZT.
[WARNING: CANNOT DISCARD SSS-RANK ITEMS. ITEM IS SENTIENT. DELETION WOULD BE CONSIDERED MURDER UNDER INTERGALACTIC LAW.]
"Murder?" I squeaked.
"Master?" Sylvia tilted her head. "Why are you crying?"
"I'm not crying. My eyes are just sweating from the stress." I pointed at the list. "I can't pick up the money. I can't pick up the loot because my backpack is full of... people."
Sylvia peeked at the screen. Her eyes widened slightly.
"Oh. I see." She tapped her chin. "It is rather crowded in there. I can feel them, you know. Through the bond."
"You can?"
"Yes. It feels like... a waiting room. A very expensive, high-pressure waiting room. Ignis is currently burning the upholstery on a sofa in Slot 2."
"There's a sofa?"
"Master, it is a Dimensional Pocket. It accommodates the needs of the stored items. Since we are SSS-Rank, the accommodation is... appropriate."
My brain stopped.
"Are you telling me," I said slowly, "that while I live in a studio apartment with a leaky roof and black mold... my inventory has a lounge?"
"And a spa, I believe. Slot 3—Elara—is running a bath."
I stared at the ceiling of the dungeon. I wanted to scream, but I didn't have the stamina left.
"Okay," I said. "Okay. Logic. I need to clear a slot. Sylvia, you're currently 'Equipped.' Does that count as a slot?"
"I occupy Slot 1, Master. Whether I am inside or outside, I am bound to that slot. Unless..." She smirked. "Unless you unbind me."
"And if I unbind you?"
"I return to the Gacha Void. And you lose your head." She tapped the hilt of her imaginary sword. "I do not recommend it."
"Right. Noted."
I looked at the heavy purple stone in my hand. It weighed about five kilograms.
"Sylvia," I said, putting on my best 'I am the Master' voice. "Carry this."
She looked at the stone. She looked at me. She let out a short, musical laugh.
"Master, I am the World-Severing Blade. I cleave mountains. I dissect gods. I do not... haul luggage."
[SYSTEM HINT: RELATIONSHIP TOO LOW FOR "LABOR" COMMANDS.][CURRENT ROLE: PRINCESS / WEAPON.][REQUIRED ROLE FOR PORTER DUTIES: MAID (LOCKED)]
"I hate this system," I muttered.
I sighed, ripped a strip of cloth from my already ruined shirt, and tied the Mana Stone to my belt. It sagged, nearly pulling my pants down.
"Fine. I'll carry it. Can you at least... go back in? Just for now? I can't walk out of the dungeon with a glowing cosplay girl. The Guild will ask questions I can't answer."
Sylvia pouted. Actually pouted. It was devastatingly cute and terrifyingly dangerous.
"You want to hide me?"
"I want to protect our secret," I lied smoothly. "You're my trump card. If they know about you, they'll try to take you away."
Strategic lying. A skill honed by years of avoiding landlords.
Sylvia's expression softened. "They would try... to separate us?" Her eyes darkened again. "I would kill them all."
"Exactly! And that's a lot of paperwork. So, please?"
She hesitated, then stepped forward. She grabbed my face with both hands, pulled me down, and kissed my forehead.
It wasn't soft. It felt like being branded by dry ice.
[BUFF APPLIED: MARK OF THE BLADE][EFFECT: ALL BLADED WEAPONS WITHIN 50 METERS WILL HESITATE TO STRIKE YOU.]
"Do not keep me waiting long, Master," she whispered. "There is no Wi-Fi in the inventory."
She dissolved into golden particles and shot into my chest.
[ITEM UNEQUIPPED: SYLVIA][RETURNING TO SLOT 1]
I stood alone in the silence of the Boss Room. My pants were falling down from the weight of the stone. My shirt was gone. I had a lipstick mark on my forehead that probably radiated magic radiation.
And I had 99 other problems waiting in the menu.
I checked the time. 08:45 AM.
"Fifteen minutes," I muttered, limping toward the exit portal. "I cleared a dungeon in fifteen minutes."
If I told anyone, they'd laugh. F-Rank Hunters don't clear dungeons. We die in them.
I stepped through the swirling blue portal, the familiar nausea of teleportation hitting me.
The world twisted. The smell of rotting meat was replaced by the smell of diesel and ozone.
I stumbled out onto the pavement of the Tokyo Gate Plaza. It was Sunday, so the plaza was crowded. Hunters in flashy armor were posing for cameras. Guild recruiters were handing out flyers.
I looked like a train wreck.
"Hey! Look at that guy!"
I froze. A group of C-Rank Hunters from the 'Golden Lion' guild were pointing at me. They were decked out in polished steel, probably waiting for a raid team.
"Is that... Hiro?" one of them laughed. "The Trash Porter?"
"Whoa, look at him. Did you get mugged by a goblin, Hiro?"
"No," I grumbled, clutching the heavy stone at my waist to hide it. "Just a rough shift."
"Rough shift?" The leader, a guy named Kenji who had kicked me out of a party last week for 'breathing too loudly,' sneered. "Did you trip and fall into the boss room? Where's your team? Did they leave you behind to carry the scraps?"
I tightened my grip on the stone. Technically, I could summon Sylvia right now. She would bisect Kenji, his armor, and probably the hot dog stand behind him.
Don't do it. Low profile.
"Something like that," I said, looking down. "Excuse me."
I tried to push past them. Kenji stepped in my way.
"Hold on. What's that in your belt?"
He reached out.
[WARNING: HOSTILE INTENT DETECTED][AUTO-EQUIP PROTOCOL: ENGAGED][SEARCHING INVENTORY FOR DEFENSIVE ASSET...]
No! No auto-equip!
[SELECTING SLOT 34: "THE WALL"]
My skin began to harden.
"Kenji, don't touch me," I warned, my voice dropping.
"Or what?" Kenji laughed, grabbing my shoulder. "You gonna cry to your mo—"
CRACK.
Kenji's hand didn't grab flesh. It grabbed something that felt like reinforced titanium. His fingers bent backward with a sickening snap.
"AAAAHHH!" Kenji recoiled, clutching his broken hand. "What the hell? What are you made of?"
I blinked. I looked at my shoulder. It looked normal, but it felt... immovable.
[EQUIPPED: SLOT 34 - TITANIA (GOLEM EMPRESS)][PASSIVE: UNYIELDING DEFENSE (PARTIAL)]
"I told you," I said, panic rising in my throat as the crowd turned to look. "Don't touch the merchandise."
I ran. I sprinted toward the Guild Exchange counter before anyone could ask why an F-Rank Porter felt like a concrete bunker.
Being strong was going to be way more complicated than being weak.