The dungeon was once again shrouded in silence.

  Hope was sitting cross-legged on the cold stone floor, staring at the egg in front of him. It was an egg the size of a melon; its surface was covered in black scales, and faint veins ran across it. The future Flame Tyrant… his latest project. He had spent the last three days setting traps and adjusting the mana flow; now he was waiting for the next stupid group of adventurers to come and die.

  He lightly tapped the egg with his finger.

  “Hey buddy,” he muttered. “Work’s done for today. The traps are ready, the poison ventilation is calibrated, the illusion walls are flawless. You know, I’ve gotten pretty good at this.”

  The egg didn’t respond. It never did.

  Hope sighed and leaned back against the wall. His long white hair spilled over his shoulders, sticking to the sweat on the back of his neck. The air here was always damp, always the same. No sunlight. No sound other than his own voice.

  “I read it in one of the old books the guards threw in here. Honestly, reading books is the only thing I do in this place,” he said, turning back to the egg. “Being a hero sounds pretty cool. Beautiful girls walk around with them, they have flashy swords and shiny armor. People look at them with admiration. Girls chase after them. I want to be a hero too. But I’m here. Talking to an egg. Setting traps in a silent dungeon. And when you grow up, you’ll probably try to eat me.”

  He lightly knocked on the egg.

  “I’m talking to a stupid boss egg that doesn’t even answer back. This loneliness is slowly driving me crazy.”

  He stood up and rubbed his hands together. His mana was still full. His daily routine was over, but the uneasiness inside him hadn’t faded.

  “Whatever. Let’s grow you. A new group will arrive soon.”

  He placed his fingers on the egg. His green eyes glowed faintly.

  “Pump It!”

  Mana surged into the egg. The shell trembled, the veins began pulsing faster. Within seconds, the egg cracked open and a small, red-scaled hatchling emerged. Its eyes were still closed; weak but alive—a newborn Flame Tyrant.

  Hope smiled.

  “Welcome, little monster. I’ll come watch you in a few minutes. Let’s see how long this group lasts.”

  He placed the hatchling in the center of the boss room and retreated to a hidden corner. This was the dungeon’s observation point—behind a one-way illusion wall, he could see everything. Meanwhile, the little monster rapidly devoured the special meals Hope had prepared, growing and transforming into its true form.

  The waiting began.

  After a while, footsteps echoed from afar. The clanking of metal armor, voices…

  “They’re here,” Hope muttered. “Another rookie group.”

  He watched the group through the wall. There were five of them. At the front was a swordsman bursting with confidence—clearly the leader. His armor looked shiny but cheap. His sword swung excessively at his waist; it was obvious he was there just for show. Beside him were two damage dealers holding rusty axes, joking with each other like brothers. There was also an extremely cowardly and frail-looking archer. And at the very back…

  Hope’s breath caught.

  At the rear of the group walked a slender girl. Her chestnut hair fell to her shoulders, her hazel eyes anxious yet determined. She wore a healer’s robe and held a simple wooden staff. Her facial features… perfect. A beauty Hope had never seen before. Soft yet strong. Fragile yet resilient.

  “Their healer… is really beautiful,” he murmured. His heart sped up. But that wasn’t the only thing about her. She was radiating an energy far different from normal humans. A terrifying aura that pulled Hope toward her. “Get a grip. That’s not the issue right now.”

  He examined the group more closely.

  “Their equipment is old. Their armor is patched up. And… what? No tank at all?!”

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  He couldn’t believe his eyes. The leader walked confidently at the front, but there was no one carrying a shield, no one to draw aggro.

  “Idiots. My boss is fire-type. How are you planning to kill it without a tank? Are you going to put the entire burden on the healer?”

  Panic rose inside him.

  “The healer… that girl… all the pressure will be on her.”

  He continued watching. They were approaching the traps. The first poison trap was triggered. The archer was lightly wounded. The leader immediately called the healer over.

  “Lypin, we have a wounded one. Come here.”

  The girl immediately cast a healing spell. Her mana had already started to decrease.

  “Lypin… SO THAT’S HER NAME!”

  Hope began jumping around the room cheerfully.

  “What a lovely name… Lypin.”

  After Lypin’s healing spell, the group continued onward. Thorns, small monsters, flame traps… they were caught by all of them and took damage.

  Hope clenched his teeth.

  “This group is too weak for my dungeon. They’re definitely going to die.”

  Normally, that was a good thing. The dungeon’s danger level would rise, its reputation would increase, and Hope would gain prestige. At least that’s what the books said…

  “But… damn it, that healer girl is really beautiful. I feel something very different. She has a purple aura… something magical, as if it’s pulling me toward her.”

  He felt his hands begin to sweat. A battle was raging inside him.

  “What should I do? Should I help? Or not?”

  If he helped… the heroism he had dreamed of. Recognition. Maybe the girl would look at him with admiration. Maybe she would even fall in love with him.

  But it was forbidden. Against the rules. He didn’t know what the consequences would be, but this was the biggest rule of all. In every book he had read about dungeons, it was clearly stated that interference was forbidden.

  If he didn’t help… these idiots would die. To Hope, human life and death had no value. But if the team died, that girl would die too.

  “I don’t want her to die.”

  The group entered the boss room. The hatchling was already waiting eagerly for its first prey in its true form.

  The Flame Tyrant roared, pounding its massive chest. The leader shouted, “Attack!” but his voice trembled. When the boss swung one of its gigantic muscular arms, one of the damage dealers was flung across the room before he could even raise his weapon, slamming into the wall and turning into a lifeless heap.

  The leader attacked confidently, but there was no tank. The lava cracks along the Flame Tyrant’s back glowed as it spewed pure hellfire from its mouth. The archer tried to hide behind a pillar, but the boss leapt forward and shattered the pillar with a single punch. Flames crashed directly into the group. The healer kept casting heals one after another, her mana draining rapidly. Her face had gone pale.

  “Please don’t die! I’m trying to reach all of you,” the girl whispered. Her voice barely came out from fear.

  They began to fall one by one.

  “Idiots, there’s a huge weak point on its left side,” he muttered inwardly. “Because of you, the healer girl is going to die too.”

  Despite his good aim, the not-so-agile archer went first; crushed to death by the boss. He didn’t even have time to feel the pain of death. Then one of the damage dealers burned to death. It was a very painful way to die. The leader was still shouting, “Hold on! We’re killing it!”

  But he was lying.

  They were heading toward death.

  The healer girl raised her staff with trembling hands. “Mercy of Light!” she shouted. A weak white glow tried to wrap around the leader’s burns, but the overwhelming heat radiating from the boss evaporated the healing before it could even take shape. Sweat streamed down her forehead, and when her mana ran dry, her staff slipped from her grasp.

  In the end, the leader could no longer endure. Half his body was burned, and he no longer had the strength to stand.

  “I’m sorry, Lypin. See you in heaven,” he said, a single tear falling from his eye.

  Sensing its victory, the boss devoured him eagerly. The healer girl was left alone. She knelt, her staff trembling in her hands. Her mana was almost gone. The Flame Tyrant reveled in the fear of its final prey.

  Something stirred inside Hope. As he looked at the healer girl, the rhythm of his heart changed. His body moved forward involuntarily.

  “To hell with the rules. I have to save that girl.”

  He stepped out from his hiding place. His mana flared into a green aura.

  He cast a protective shield—a green spiritual barrier formed around the girl. The Flame Tyrant’s strike slammed into it and dispersed.

  The girl looked up in shock. Her hazel eyes locked onto Hope.

  Hope extended his hand and summoned a glowing green scythe.

  The Flame Tyrant froze for a moment. With a swift motion, Hope drove the scythe into its chest. The boss collapsed, green lights emerging from its chest and being absorbed by the scythe.

  The girl tried to stand.

  “Who… are you?”

  Hope smiled. His heart was pounding wildly. For the first time, he was talking to someone—especially someone this beautiful.

  “I’m… the owner of this dungeon. But I came to save you.”

  The girl was shocked but grateful. She extended her hand.

  “Thank you… you saved me.”

  Hope took her hand. He felt warmth. For the first time.

  At that moment, loud noises echoed from the dungeon entrance. Heavy footsteps. The sound of metal armor.

  The guards had arrived.

  An officer stepped forward, sword drawn.

  “Hope! You violated the rules. Intervention is forbidden!”

  Hope didn’t let go of the girl’s hand.

  “Yes… I know.”

  The soldiers surrounded him.

  The girl panicked. “Stop! He saved me!” she shouted, but no one listened.

  As Hope was shackled in chains, he looked at her one last time. There was worry in her hazel eyes. But also… something else. Gratitude? Admiration?

  The soldiers began to drag him away.

  Hope laughed inwardly.

  “It was definitely worth it.”

  As he was led out of the dungeon, he saw sunlight for the first time in his life. He felt his skin burn and his eyes ache as if they would go blind, but he took pleasure in the pain.

  He had finally earned a chance to see the real world.

  But not as a free man… as a criminal.