Mark's current state was surreal. He had just endured what was likely the most difficult and critical battle of his life. On paper, the Hydra was superior to him in every conceivable way—the gap between them was nothing short of absurd. Yet, against all odds, he had emerged victorious.
Even Mark knew he could never replicate such a feat. This victory was a unique, one-time combination of his own abilities, the specific mechanics of the dungeon, and an opponent that, despite its power, was inexperienced and lacked the vigilance of a true warrior. It was a lightning-in-a-bottle moment.
He had been planning to savor this triumph, to rest for a few days and throw himself a small feast to celebrate his survival. But the system's notification shattered that joy in an instant.
Even though the System usually behaved like a rigid AI, Mark sometimes felt it possessed a hidden consciousness, merely pretending to be a machine. Just like now. Delivering such news when he hadn't even planned to ascend yet felt like a deliberate attempt to ruin his moment of triumph—at least, that's what Mark told himself. But whenever he pressed the System with these suspicions, it simply ignored him. Questions about the 3rd floor were met with the same repetitive, vague responses: "Technical maintenance," or "You will be notified later."
Giving up on the futile conversation, Mark tried to shift his focus. His joy had already withered. He attempted to re-analyze the Hydra battle, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the mysterious events on the floor above. Realizing he couldn't concentrate on tactics, he decided to study a technique from the System library that he had long desired but found impractical for combat.
It was called "Sound of Heart," a skill specifically designed for the blind.
Why hadn't Mark learned it sooner? Because in the heat of battle against monsters, it was useless. This was a technique for human society, particularly the nobility. In the world of aristocrats, masters could read an opponent's inner thoughts through the slightest facial twitch or subtle shift in tone—and many were equally skilled at hiding their own. "Sound of Heart" allowed the user to focus on a person's voice and heartbeat to decipher their true emotions and hidden intentions
Mark dedicated his remaining time to mastering the "Sound of Heart." Once he understood the theory well enough to execute it, he knew he needed live subjects to practice on. However, there were no other humans in this dungeon, and without practicing on actual people, developing the skill beyond basic drills was nearly impossible.
Out of options, Mark descended back to the 2nd floor to test the technique on random monsters he encountered. The good news: it actually worked on monsters. The bad news: "Sound of Heart" primarily gauges a subject's attitude toward the user, and the monsters' feelings toward Mark were... remarkably "sincere."
Through the technique, their inner voices echoed with sentiments like: "Hello, lunch," and "Die, motherfucker!" ---
Under the guise of practicing "Sound of Heart," Mark continued his "sincere conversations" with the monsters—right before crushing their skulls with his staff. Amidst this routine, a new notification flashed from the System.
[A new Floor Boss has been designated for the 3rd Floor, and the clearance conditions have been modified. You must now either kill the Floor Boss or capture it alive.]
"System, explain this," Mark demanded. "What exactly happened to the original 3rd-floor boss? And why did the clearance conditions change?"
[You were previously warned about the wild and chaotic nature of the floors beyond the 1st. Nothing is guaranteed. Each Floor Boss is granted significantly higher power and evolutionary potential than the other monsters on their floor. However, the System does not maintain constant control over them. The new condition—allowing the floor to be cleared without killing the boss—can be considered compensation for the monster that has assumed the responsibilities of the 3rd-floor boss.]
Compensation, huh?" Mark muttered. "You've always been so fair to everyone but me, System. You're constantly talking about compensations, but would it kill you to show me some goodwill? A better attitude, or maybe some actual information?" As expected, the System remained silent. Mark sighed and cut to the chase. "Can I descend to the 3rd floor now?"
[Yes. Proceed to the gate in the Safe Zone and state your desire to travel to the 3rd floor out loud.]
Despite the green light, Mark was in no rush. He had already spent a year on the 2nd floor, and for now, a quiet life felt more appealing than rushing into the unknown. He knew he could start exploring the 3rd floor whenever he chose; the floor wasn't going anywhere.
Instead, he spent his free time in deep meditation, retreating into his Inner World, or heading back to the 2nd floor to hold "conversations" with the monsters to further refine his Sound of Heart.
After some time, Mark grew weary of the monsters' repetitive "vocabulary" through Sound of Heart. The skill, which had once intrigued him, lost its charm without a rational conversation partner to truly test its depth. Realizing this, he began his final preparations for the 3rd floor.
When he was ready, Mark stood in a state of heightened focus, his Multi-Sense active and scanning everything within a 60-meter radius. He hadn't forgotten the axe that had aimed for his head the moment he stepped onto the 2nd floor. The 3rd floor was bound to have its own "welcome gift," and the mysterious death of the original Floor Boss only added to the danger.
Taking a deep breath, Mark spoke firmly, "I wish to proceed to the 3rd floor," and stepped through the Gate without hesitation.
He emerged on the other side braced for an immediate ambush, but he was met with nothing. Or rather, a vast emptiness. Beneath his feet was shifting sand—the kind that gives way with every step—and above him, a scorching sun blazed with an intensity he hadn't felt in ages. As he extended his Multi-Sense, he realized this wasn't the pleasant sand of a beach or the gentle warmth of a coast. He was standing in the heart of a relentless, burning desert.