Chapter 1: Dungeon Maker

Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Dungeon Maker

The dimly lit apartment was barely large enough for a single person to live in. Peeling wallpaper hung loosely from the stained concrete walls, while the old ceiling fan groaned with every slow rotation, threatening to fall apart at any moment.

Empty instant noodle cups, crumpled soda cans, and scattered snack wrappers littered the floor, creating a battlefield of their own.

The only thing illuminating the cramped room was the bluish glow of a high-end gaming monitor that looked strangely out of place amidst the rundown surroundings.

Seated before the monitor was a middle-aged man with messy black hair and a scruffy beard that hadn’t seen a razor in weeks.

His bloodshot eyes were locked onto the screen with absolute concentration, his fingers flying across the keyboard while his other hand gripped the mouse so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

His name was Ragnar Lindgren.

"Damn it... damn it... damn it..."

Cold sweat streamed down Ragnar’s forehead as his heart pounded violently against his chest.

On the monitor was one of the most popular game in the world.

Dungeon Maker.

Unlike ordinary games, Dungeon Maker allowed players to choose between two completely different paths.

The first was becoming an Adventurer, joining parties to raid countless dungeons created by other players. Adventurers hunted monsters, defeated dungeon bosses, collected treasures, and climbed the global rankings. It was the choice of nearly eighty percent of the player base.

The second path, was becoming a Dungeon Master.

Dungeon Masters were responsible for creating every aspect of a dungeon. They designed its terrain, constructed traps, summoned monsters, recruited powerful bosses, and defended their territories against invading adventurers.

The concept sounded incredible. Unfortunately, reality was cruel.

Building a high level dungeon required an absurd amount of real-world money. Every powerful monster, every rare trap, every expansion, and every unique dungeon environment demanded expensive premium purchases.

To create a top-ranked dungeon, players often spent hundreds of thousands, sometimes even millions of dollars.

It was a playground for the rich.

Because of that, very few people chose the Dungeon Master route.

Ragnar, however, was one of those few.

He wasn’t wealthy. In fact, he was barely scraping by every month.

His apartment spoke for itself. Yet ever since he was a child, he had always loved building things.

Cities.

Kingdoms.

Bases.

And especially... Dungeons.

When Dungeon Maker was released years ago, Ragnar had immediately fallen in love with it.

Even if he had to skip meals, and had to work overtime.

He would still save enough money to buy a few dungeon upgrades every now and then.

His dungeon wasn’t famous, nor it was powerful. It generate much income too.

It was merely a beginner dungeon designed for new players to enjoy.

Still, It was his dungeon.

Every corridor, every trap, every monster placement.

He had personally designed them all.

It was something he had spent years building with care.

Yet at this very moment, everything was about to be destroyed.

"No... no... no... what the hell is going on?"

Ragnar’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the names displayed on his screen.

The invading party, was none other than one of the Top Ten Adventurer Guilds in the entire game.

The guild’s emblem alone was enough to make ordinary players tremble.

These people regularly conquered the strongest player-made dungeons in existence.

Their names dominated the global rankings.

Every member possessed legendary equipment.

Their weapons glowed with countless enchantments, while their armor radiated overwhelming magical power.

These were people who usually challenged world-class dungeon.

So why... Why were they raiding his insignificant beginner dungeon?

"What the fuck?!"

Ragnar slammed his desk in frustration.

"Why the hell is a Top Ten Adventurer Guild raiding my dungeon?!"

"My dungeon is literally made for low-level players!"

"Go bully someone your own size!"

Of course, no one answered.

On the screen, Ragnar watched helplessly as his monsters were massacred one after another.

Every room they entered, was cleared within moments.

Ragnar could only watch in despair.

Hours of planning, months of upgrading, and years of careful construction.

Were all being erased before his very eyes.

Finally, the elite party reached the deepest chamber of the dungeon.

The Throne Hall.

It was a grand chamber with towering black pillars supporting a high ceiling. Crimson flames burned inside ancient braziers while countless monster corpses decorated the walls.

Upon the obsidian throne sat the ruler of Ragnar’s dungeon.

His strongest creation, and the final boss.

Ragnar unconsciously leaned closer to the screen.

"...Come on..."

"At least make them struggle a little..."

The battle erupted instantly. Explosions of magic shook the chamber.

Lightning flashed, sword auras tore through the air.

The boss roared furiously, unleashing every skill Ragnar had painstakingly customized over the years.

For a brief moment, hope appeared in Ragnar’s heart.

Then, a brilliant silver flash illuminated the battlefield.

The leader of this group appeared directly before the boss.

Without hesitation, he thrust his legendary sword forward.

Thud.

The blade pierced straight through the boss’s chest.

Everything froze.

The boss looked down silently at the sword embedded in his body.

A second later, its enormous body shattered into countless fragments of black light.

The words Dungeon Cleared appeared across Ragnar’s screen.

"..."

Ragnar sat there motionless. His eyes had lost their focus.

Years, it had taken him years to build that dungeon.

And now, it was gone. Completely gone.

Just as he was about to let out a bitter laugh. Something impossible happened.

The sword that had killed the dungeon boss, did not disappear.

Instead, its tip slowly emerged from the monitor.

Ragnar’s pupils shrank.

"W-What..."

The blade continued moving forward as though the screen were made of water.

His mind went blank, and before he could react.

Stab!

The sword pierced straight through his chest.

Pain exploded throughout his body.

Ragnar looked down in horror at the blade protruding from his chest.

Blood dripped onto the keyboard beneath him.

His breathing became ragged.

"W... what... the..."

His vision rapidly blurred, and the room grew darker.