To Miss S:
Because of my plan, after this letter, it may be inconvenient to communicate further. The next time we meet will be when my exploration has made progress.
I am now preparing to find that Fire Dragon Killer—who was previously a maid.
And the one we are going to deal with is a Fire Dragon with extensive Adventurer experience. It is said that this Fire Dragon has caused many people to lose their minds. I am quite looking forward to a duel with it.
Speaking of which, you are also a BOSS in the Death Hall now, aren’t you? Is fighting it the same as fighting you?
Please do not worry. If there is any news, I will contact you in the usual way.
Although the next time you receive a message may be very late.
W
“Next contact… huh?”
Shuna held the letter.
Because of their communication, by the time she received this letter, about a week should have passed since Will wrote it.
She was now highly trusted by the “Death Hall” and had repelled countless Adventurers.
Today was her first day as the BOSS of the 120th floor.
Even the coffin she sat on had been replaced with one that looked of better quality.
She wore a thick black mask, on which was drawn a very iconic bright red heart pierced by a knife.
This was the mask given to her by that senior named “Qishi,” who looked like a blind elder.
Looking at the corpse of a fully armored swordsman at her feet, she removed the mask and took a deep breath of the dim environment.
“Pfft…”
It’s just…
“It stinks, as expected. After so long, I still can’t get used to this smell.”
She waved her hand, wanting to use the wind to disperse the stench of decay in the “Death Hall” air.
But no matter how she waved, it only drew the more pungent smell of rotting flesh into her nose.
“Forget it, I’ll wear it again.”
Shuna put the mask back on and began to re-examine the Adventurers at her feet.
“Are they… really… not going to die?”
The heart of the Swordsman who had fallen at her feet was directly pierced by Shuna’s dagger, gushing with blood. The Adventurer himself had rolled his eyes back, foamed at the mouth, and his face was pale.
Shuna touched his heart…
The heart, which she had just pierced with a knife, was still beating, pumping blood in and out continuously as the pump of the entire body.
The Adventurer before her, whose heart she had “poured out,” seemed to be suffering from anemia due to the continuous pumping of blood from his heart, causing him to foam at the mouth and his face to turn pale.
He…
Undoubtedly, after suffering a fatal wound, was still “alive.”
Shuna looked again at the Adventurers further away who had come to “challenge” her—
One had half his head lopped off, exposing the bright red brain matter, yet one could still see the blood supply to every blood vessel within.
One had had his intestines severed, yet they still wriggled as if digesting, transporting food internally.
One had had his throat cut. Naturally, one could see the movement of her vocal cords and the flow of blood, but could not understand what she was saying in a whisper.
“They are truly both dead and alive, or rather… they experience death infinitely here.”
The first hundred floors of the Death Hall were completely different from floors one hundred to two hundred.
Here, in this world beyond the 100th floor, on this 120th floor, neither “monsters” nor “Adventurers” “die.”
Even if they were so severely injured that an ordinary person would have died long ago, their bodies were still “alive,” and Shuna even felt that their consciousness had not disappeared.
And…
After undergoing the “resurrection” operations by the skilled doctors of the Death Hall—such as patching up a heart, gluing a skull, stuffing intestines back into the belly, and sealing the throat—they would be lively Adventurers outside the Dungeon.
This place…
Was beyond imagination.
If the first hundred floors of the Death Hall made one feel the constant fear of “death,” with every step feeling closer to death…
From the 101st floor onwards, it…
Perhaps made one feel the joy of “death.”
The moment of being killed, not the moment of “near-death,” but the moment of true “death,” would be preserved by the Death Hall.
It would dance upon your consciousness again and again, but you need not worry; no one truly dies on these hundred floors of the Death Hall.
On floors one hundred to two hundred, you experience “death” itself.
This was also why an unusually unpleasant rotting smell permeated the entire floor.
The corpses of some monsters that remained in death, too lazy to be “stitched up,” had become the perfect dwelling for scavengers in this Dungeon, and then…
With the help of the scavengers, these monsters became active again, becoming a new type of monster.
“…A Dungeon that makes one feel quite absurd.”
If Shuna hadn’t been unable to stand the smell, she would have maintained such a high evaluation instead of complaining for a whole page in her letter to Will just now, begging him to come and pick her up quickly.
She kicked a knife stuck in a swordsman on the ground. The dagger, made of shadows and capable of changing shape at will, became something like a half-gloved item, worn on her right hand.
Like a trap, she clenched it.
This Dungeon made Shuna realize a “limit” of possibilities for Dungeons.
Perhaps the deeper one went in any Dungeon, the more unimaginably things conforming to their names would develop.
And the 100th floor was a kind of… variable.
“Oh dear, Miss ‘Pourxin’ had a good record today, and she looks quite happy. Is it because you’ve been promoted and Miss Daisianwei is about to see you, so you’re so happy?”
Shuna heard a voice that annoyed her somewhat.
“Qishi.”
Shuna raised her head. On the dark roof beams, creatures that looked like bats but whose wings were full of holes and whose brains had been eaten, and whose names she couldn’t identify, flew past.
Then, “Qishi” flicked her blond hair, swaying her long legs that wore thigh-high boots.
She didn’t “see,” because “Qishi” seemed to be “blind.” She always wore an eyepatch and never seemed to use her eyes to judge people.
Now that her level had increased, she knew that “Qishi” was an elite BOSS on the 190th floor, the right-hand woman of Daisianwei.
This made Shuna even more curious; why was she so persistent in following her?
Especially when she received the “letter,” was she a form of surveillance? Was her identity as an inside mole here about to be exposed?
If so, what was the point of her giving her a mask?
“I’m not happy. Which eye of yours saw me smiling?”
Shuna didn’t give her a good look, of course, she hadn’t given any of the people in this Dungeon a good look.
Doing so made her “safer.”
After all, someone who meddled in everything, asked about everything out of interest, and inquired about everyone seemed more like an inside mole than someone who ignored everyone and just minded their own business.
