The Infinity Dungeon [LitRPG]

Chapter 65



Chapter 65

The biggest gains, at least in the stories, are always said to happen in the heat of battle. Where the threat of dying is the stronger, in the struggle to stay alive in the face of impossible odds, something clicks inside the main character’s brain and he finally finds a way to gain the upper hand. Michael always liked to read of such occurrences happen in books, but now that fighting was his reality, he discovered just how different it was to actually live those situations, and how unrealistic books were.

Firstly, it was rare for someone to reach enlightenment during a fight. Unless he had spent countless hours on a technique, skill or movement, there was simply not enough room to think to come up with a completely novel thing during battle. Secondly, the effect that fear of death had on a person was utterly different than how it was portrayed in books. It made you fall back on ingrained habits, and even they lost some of their efficacy as the body unconsciously tried to avoid taking too many risks, even if in truth it was exposing itself to more risks.

In the end, the sure way to grow was through hard work. Smart hard work, and not recklessly throwing yourself against enemies you have no chance of beating. The second floor had been lesson enough, teaching Michael the dangers of the reckless tactic and the benefits of the safer one. It wasn’t like he was in no danger even if he played it safe, after all, with the dungeon constantly throwing curveballs at him. He didn’t need to go looking for danger, it would find him nonetheless, therefore he had to manage the danger he could control so that it didn’t cross the threshold where it became counterproductive rather than helpful.

Which is why, as the giant mummy that was the boss of the third floor finally fell to its injuries, Michael found himself not with surprising gains and spikes in power, but with his power base feeling much more solid and stable. He was more comfortable with his strange, mixed fighting style and he was even beginning to incorporate [Okinawan Mastery] into the way he fought, gathering Chi whenever he managed to still his breathing and unleashing devastating waves of Jing with his blows.

The difference was not night and day like he might have liked to think, but the good thing about Chi was that it was a renewable resource. Jing-powered attacks were stronger by at least 10% compared to normal attacks, and every advantage added up. Speaking of techniques: [Okinawan Mastery]. The reward for beating the boss was a skill stone powerful enough to raise the skill by two levels.

I guess the dungeon approves of it.

 

(Common) Okinawan Mastery 3

Insight, even lost, still perseveres. The world weeps what once was, and even masters are forced to live in the shadow of greatness. Yet, not all is lost.

 

·         You accumulate Chi by breathing in a certain pattern. Upon performing the right set of moves, the Chi becomes Jing, empowering your next strikes.

·         Breathing pattern is easier to maintain. Chi accumulates faster. Jing conversion more efficient.

·         The moves come more naturally to you, and you gain a sixth sense to spot major errors in form.

 

There was also a small mountain of coins that made the first floor rewards look like pocket change. If this wasn’t enough to entice a delver to delve deeper into the dungeon, into danger, then nothing was.

***

Michael remained on the third floor for several hours after the rest of his party had left. With the boss defeated, the whole floor was just an empty husk waiting to be replenished when the last adventurer finally left, making it the perfect training ground for Michael. Being the deepest floor yet, it was also the one with the highest concentration of mana. The mana concentration was not constant at all throughout the floors, but Michael had developed a way to track it so that he could eventually turn the data to the scientists under his control and let them figure out what was going on.

Currently, the mana concentration outside the dungeon was around 13 Copper/m^3, on the first floor it was more than 20, on the second it was around 30 and here it neared the fifty Copper coins mark per cubic meter of air. A lot of power. This made Michael’s regeneration skyrocket, even though denser mana was much more difficult to control.

Both Old Dave and Travis thought it strange when they first learned that Michael spent hours training without pause as if he was a novel protagonist. Travis had his mind changed when he saw Michael do that in person, but even then he couldn’t really grasp the state of mind Michael got in whenever he felt inspired. Or when he bashed his head against a problem he couldn’t solve.

Of which there were two, currently. His aura that refused to upgrade to Silver. And…

Fucking mana projection. How can projecting mana outside of my aura be so hard?

Even after hours spent trying, Michael felt he still had a lot of work to do. He was getting closer, but closer did not a skill make. He wasn’t without gains, however. In his trials, he was learning more about his aura and how it could affect the world around him. Not only did aura conceal his inner mana, like a shroud, but it also weakened all sort of attacks coming his way, like a personal shield that extended a few millimeters away from his skin. The reason why he had never noticed until now was that a Copper aura was simply too weak to be of any use, but he was pretty sure things would change once he reached Silver grade.

After he was fed up with the lack of progress and calling it quits, Michael left the dungeon with Johanne in tow. He had initially wanted to move the magical stones from the storage warehouse he rented back to his property, where he would have actual security watch over them, but Johanne raised a good point.

“My lord, I don’t think they would be safer here. The blurry man can come and go as he pleases, with most normal people none the wiser. I think the warehouse is safer at this moment than your plot of land.”

It hurt to hear, but it was true. However, this didn’t mean that Michael was going to let things proceed as they were. He was leader of a corporation, and he would be damned if he didn’t use his newfound clout to make his life easier.

It was with the intention of buying the whole warehouse district of the abandoned industrial area where he was storing his stones that he visited his stash, with an accountant working for his company and a few security people to set up a perimeter in tow.

Unknown to him however, Mustang—the appraiser working at Old Dave’s pawn shop—had taken to checking the progress of the developing land with interest. He knew something was going on with the Trail, since Michael was bringing back all sorts of strange things for him to sell and appraise. When the boy stopped procuring materials, Old Dave suddenly began to find all sort of things, but Mustang was not so stupid not to suspect that the two now worked together. When he decided to check the Trail, however, he found nothing. He was even about to give up, but then even more stuff began to flow out of there. This time, however, armed security was everywhere.

He had to watch from a distance, making sure nobody saw him. It was easy enough with only one road leading in and out of the property, to spot Michael’s car speeding away from the land, followed by a few other black vehicles. What tipped Mustang off was that, unlike every single other time, Michael did not go home this time. The convoy took an unexpected turn, then another, and before long Mustang found himself spying on a seemingly abandoned warehouse district of a long forgotten industrial zone.

His blood was pumping. He had to play it very safe or he would get caught, and who knew what sorts of illegal things were going on inside that warehouse to warrant so much security?

Mustang quietly observed from his hiding spot. He did not see much, only Michael going in and reemerging some time later, a worried expression on his face. The boy was looking around, as if searching for something or someone, paranoid. The security detail was likewise sweeping the area, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Which meant that it was time for Mustang to—

Suddenly, a strong force lifted the man into the air. The last thing Mustang saw before he landed in a broken heap of limbs and pain was Michael’s back, walking away from the warehouse without even noticing him. Then, for a moment Mustang thought he was hallucinating, for he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in all his life.

“Who are you, daring to trespass on my lord’s property? Why did you watch from the shadows like a filthy spy?”

Then all he knew was pain.

***

Michael left none the wiser, at least until he returned home and did not see Johanne there. He had simply added the mana crystal he had made in the dungeon to the pile of magical stones, wishing he had a lab and secure storage ready at his property, and left wishing he could find a way to deal with the unknown man who trespassed on his property. As long as the man was there, secrecy and security was compromised.

A text message quickly revealed the situation: Johanne had stayed back to deal with a trespasser on his property, and was now coordinating with the Security branch so that the presumed thief could be dealt with.

Not my headache, Michael thought. Indeed, the company was small enough, and the matter important enough that both Old Dave and Travis were already alerted.

Michael smiled in appreciation of just how useful having trusted and capable people working for him was.

Too bad the other problem was not as easy to deal with. Michael had asked Jennifer, the head of security at the future HQ, about the blur of a man and it appeared that he was still up to his usual shenanigans. She was trying to deal with him, and of course she had booby trapped the dungeon, not even telling Michael so that there was no risk of information leaks. All to no avail.

It made Michael feel stifled, gasping for air. Coupled with the sensation coming from his aura, filled to the brim with Copper mana to the point it was painful, it didn’t make for a pleasant living.


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