Robinson's face turned deathly pale. "Those stories are true...!" He began to border on hysteria. "There really are black mages conducting experiments in the sewers! What comes next? Stitched-together living corpses? Alchemical chimeras?"
"Huh? There's stuff like that too? What kind of urban legend smorgasbord is this place?" Lorne asked, surprised.
Ignoring his confusion, Robinson waded through the water back toward the direction they came. "I think we should return immediately and find a real mage to solve these problems!"
Lorne raised a hand. "Isn't there one standing right here?"
"Mr. Lorne, no offense, but I don't mean a 'mage' from the entertainment industry like you—I mean a real mage from the Tower!"
"Even though you said 'no offense,' I still feel offended..."
Robinson brushed past him, striding toward the darkness at the end of the passage. Before long, rapid footsteps echoed from the right-hand fork—the one Wolf had entered.
Lorne commanded the light orb to rise, expanding the range of illumination. A figure much slimmer than Wolf's rushed into the light in a panic. He looked up, staring at Lorne in shock.
"Why am I back here...?" Robinson muttered, spirit-broken. "And I remember this tunnel was clearly the one Mr. Wolf took. Even if there are space-time portals in the sewers, I shouldn't have come back from this side..."
"I told you, it's a spatial distortion," Lorne said helplessly. "Even if you turn back, you won't necessarily return to your starting point. For example, if you enter Tunnel C from Tunnel A through Entrance B, when you turn around and go back through Entrance B, you won't return to A—you'll end up somewhere else. The space here can no longer be measured by common sense."
"Then aren't we trapped here for the rest of our lives?!"
Lorne calmly walked toward the tunnel Wolf had taken. "Be optimistic. There is no underground labyrinth in the world without an exit. That is a theorem of spatial magic. You cannot design a spatial spell that is an infinite dead loop. There must be an exit, a method of cracking it, for the formula to hold. It's like balancing an equation."
With a long face, Robinson pinched his nose and followed closely behind, as if terrified of being left.
"From your tone, is this spatial magic something someone cast intentionally?"
"Otherwise? Does magic grow out of the ground like leeks?"
The two talked back and forth as they ventured deeper. The magical light orb stretched their shadows against the mottled, crumbling walls, making them look like two spindly ghosts. Several times, Robinson shrieked at the sight of his own shadow. Finally, he abandoned all dignity and clutched the hem of Lorne's coat like a child afraid of losing their parents at a carnival.
There were marks left by Tira all along this passage, but as they went deeper, the marks became sloppier. Several times, Lorne saw two marks overlapping. He could imagine Tira's desperation growing as she encountered the endless loops.
When they reached a certain fork, Lorne stopped.
Robinson, crouching behind him, poked half a head out. "Why did we stop?"
"There are no more marks," Lorne said, commanding the light orb to fly further into the tunnel to see if the marks were elsewhere. He found nothing; at least within his field of vision, there was nothing man-made.
"That girl vanished into thin air!" Robinson let out a siren-like shriek. "You or I are next!"
"Maybe she just gave up on making marks. They weren't helping anyway," Lorne said.
Robinson stared at Lorne in terror. His eyes were bloodshot from tension. "How can you be so calm?! Aren't you afraid?!"
"After staying at the One-Legged Chicken Inn, my fear threshold seems to have increased," Lorne replied.
He still had lingering fears about that witch-like landlady. Compared to that inn, even a dark dungeon seemed cozy and lovely.
"Unless a grandmother holding a blood-stained kitchen knife suddenly pops out from that end of the tunnel, I definitely won't—"
Lorne cut himself off.
A rustling sound came from the end of the passage, sounding like fur rubbing against stone, or like ten thousand feet wading through shallow sewage and silt.
"Oh, I shouldn't have said 'definitely,' should I?"
Two red dots lit up in the darkness. Then four, then eight... pairs upon pairs of blood-red eyes.
Lorne initially tried to count them, but quickly gave up—there were simply too many. At this volume, counting lost all meaning. Is there a big difference between encountering a hundred monsters and a hundred and one?
Among all the red eyes, one pair was exceptionally large and bright, its irises reflecting the cold light of the orb. It seemed to be the leader, charging toward Lorne with its subordinates.
As they entered the light, Lorne finally saw them clearly—
Rats. Countless rats.
A swarm of hundreds, if not thousands, of rats rolled toward them like a flood. These weren't cute little creatures like hamsters or chinchillas. They looked like a cross between a capybara and a woodchuck, but each was as tall as a preschooler.
"Aaaaaah—"
Robinson let out a long, soul-piercing scream. Ignoring the spatial magic, he turned and bolted. He stumbled through the sewage, but within a few steps, he was overtaken by the surging tide of rats.
"Help! Mr. Lorne, save me! Aaaaah! You damn beasts, you filthy things! Don't touch me! Stay back! Help—"
He wailed back at Lorne. He didn't understand why, as a fellow human, Lorne could stand there motionless. When the rat tide hit him, it acted like a river hitting a mountain, splitting into two streams and merging again after passing him. Was this the power of magic?
Robinson had no time for more thought. He fell onto his back, and his lonely figure was instantly swallowed by the tide, carried away toward the other end of the passage.
Lorne didn't waste time or effort trying to save Robinson. Crossing through hundreds of mutated rats was a bit difficult. He looked down at the rats avoiding him. When Robinson's screams faded into the distance, the rats stopped. They filled the passage to the brim, sniffing around, whiskers twitching and tails flicking excitedly.
Then, as if an invisible command had been given, all the rats stood up on their hind legs in unison, casting solemn gazes at Lorne.
Lorne sighed. "Alright, Wolf, don't you think you should explain?"
The largest and brightest pair of red eyes approached from the distance. Wolf pushed aside the standing rats and strode over.
"You actually recognized me?" he asked, surprised.
"I can tell by the eyes," Lorne said weakly. "What's with your little friends?"
"They are Ratmen, the original inhabitants of the sewers, a weak type of monster," Wolf said. "I ran into them while exploring. I told them I was a vassal of the great Demon King of the Gloomy Catacomb, and they all demanded to pay their respects to you."
The Ratmen nodded simultaneously, letting out chirps of agreement in perfect unison. Seeing so many giant rats nodding at once was actually quite eerie.
"Uh, so they're the ones who kidnapped Tira?" Lorne raised an eyebrow.
A sharp voice rang out from the crowd. "That is absolutely not the case, Great Demon King!"
A small, elderly Ratman stepped forward. It looked ancient, with mottled grey-white fur. However, Lorne could tell it held a high status because it was cleaner than the others. It didn't have to scrounge through filth for food every day.
Wolf pointed at the old rat. "This is the leader of the Ratmen, Scatz."
Scatz bowed tremulously to Lorne. Seeing how polite it was, Lorne couldn't help but nod back. This simple gesture overwhelmed Scatz; it clutched its chest, looking faint. If not for two young Ratmen supporting it, it might have collapsed.
"You are indeed a merciful Demon King, just as Lord Wolf said!" Scatz cried. "We saw the girl you mentioned, but we absolutely did not harm her! We Ratmen are very weak monsters—so weak that many dungeons won't even sign mana contracts with us. They'll take slimes and dead humans, but not us! We don't have the courage to harm humans! If humans found us, they'd send heroes... our race would be wiped out!"
This prompted another wave of nodding. Lorne felt they weren't so much agreeing as they were just following the crowd. If one rat started shaking its head, the rest would probably follow suit.
"Then where did Tira go?" Lorne pressed.
"We saw her go deeper into the old sewers. But we didn't dare follow," Scatz shuddered. "It's too dangerous; even Ratmen lose their way!"
"I thought you knew these sewers like the back of your hand."
"We used to, Great Demon King, but not anymore," Scatz said sorrowfully. "The sewers used to just be... sewers. But one day, the paths suddenly became chaotic. I sent my children to explore new routes, but many never returned. Every time the great clock strikes, the newly explored routes change again..."
"You mean the spatial distortion changes every hour?" Lorne asked.
"Yes, Great Demon King. It took us a long time to map the patterns of just one small area—this place. Humans call it a square."
"Lucheval Square," Wolf reminded him.
The old rat continued, "We stay here and don't dare move, fearing we'll be lost underground. When we're hungry, we steal human food from the square. Fortunately, there are many shops here; food is never lacking."
Lorne clapped his hands together. "So the snacks in our shop were—"
Scatz lowered its head in shame. "I am so sorry, my lord! We used to only take scraps humans didn't want, never daring to touch fresh food. But we had no choice; without food, the children would starve... If you must punish someone, punish me! The children were only following my orders; they did nothing wrong!"
It suddenly prostrated itself at Lorne's feet. The other rats followed suit, a massive wave of fur hitting the floor.
"Alright, get up. This is creepy to look at," Lorne waved them off. "Now everything connects. Spatial distortions appeared in the sewers, Ratmen gathered under Lucheval Square and stole food from our shop. Tira discovered this—poor girl, she probably thought they were just regular rats—and came down to investigate, only to get lost in the spatial magic."
"It's all that Robinson's fault!" Wolf said angrily. "If he hadn't said those awful things to Tira, she wouldn't have risked her life alone to prove her innocence."
"But why did spatial magic suddenly appear in the sewers? What mage would do something so pointless?"
"Humans. They do all sorts of strange things."
Scatz, desperate to redeem itself, spoke up. "Great Demon King, there has always been a legend about a mage in our tribe. It was passed down from my great-great-great-great-grandmother: it's said a mage built a laboratory deep in the old sewers and created many forbidden magics. Later, he sealed the lab and never returned. I don't know if this legend is related to this event..."
Lorne asked, "Was that a long time ago?"
"A Ratman's lifespan is only ten-odd years. To us, it's an ancient legend, but to humans, it probably wasn't that long ago."
Lorne rubbed his chin. "Robinson mentioned urban legends in the capital that were similar. Absurd legends are often fragments of truth. Maybe there really is a black mage's lab deep in the sewers?"
Wolf asked, "But why did the spatial magic appear now, after so many years? Did that black mage return?"
Lorne remained noncommittal. He asked, "Do you remember exactly when the spatial distortion appeared?"
"I remember clearly; it was the last full moon!" Scatz said.
Coincidentally, Lorne remembered that date well. That was the day he activated the sub-core. The secret room where he stored the sub-core was converted from an old sewer, and on the same day, the spatial distortion appeared. Was there a connection, or was it a mere coincidence?
Lorne shook his head, clearing his thoughts. The priority was finding Tira. If possible, he'd restore the sewers to normal too. But the problem was that the spatial distortion changed every hour. Even if they found Tira, it wouldn't matter if they couldn't get her out.
Fortunately, the changes seemed to follow a pattern—at least the map under Lucheval Square had been charted by the Ratmen.
"Scatz, I have a favor to ask," Lorne said. "Of course, your tribe will be rewarded once the job is done."
Scatz's tail-tip trembled with excitement. "Great Demon King, how could lowly creatures like us bargain with you? We dare not ask for a reward. If you spare our lives, we are already deeply grateful!"
Wolf barked, "You ungrateful old rat! How dare you refuse the Demon King's bounty! Such nerve!"
Lorne looked at the werewolf—a perfect personification of a "lapdog."
"Alright, Wolf, don't worry about 'ratting' him out," he said, turning back to Scatz. "What I need you to do is a brute-force solve. With your numbers, if we work together, we can map this place using the method of exhaustion."
"B-but Great Demon King, I sent children to explore, but they either never returned or came back and couldn't remember their paths—the children aren't very smart," Scatz said regretfully.
Lorne raised a hand. "I've thought of a way to protect their lives. It doesn't matter if they aren't smart; there are smart people who can help you. I just need your cooperation."
Scatz looked up, hope and confusion filling its black beady eyes. "Great Demon King, forgive my dullness..."
"Scatz, you know," Lorne looked into the distance, "humans actually surprisingly enjoy role-playing as animals."
"Rats! So many rats! Stay back! Aaaaaah!"
Robinson screamed as he snapped his eyes open. The first thing he saw was a smiling, round face. A young lady in a crisp white uniform was leaning over him, the sunlight outlining her profile like a cathedral mural. For a moment, Robinson thought he was in heaven, being greeted by an angel of the goddess.
"Oh, sir, you're awake!" The "angel's" voice was gentle and cheerful.
Robinson panted, looking around in shock. Behind the "angel" was a half-drawn curtain. On the bed behind it sat an old man leaning against a pillow, reading a newspaper through reading glasses. Hearing the scream, the man cast a strange look his way.
Robinson looked at the old man, then at the nurse, then scanned the room—he was on clean white sheets, wearing a striped hospital gown. On the nightstand was a vase of fresh flowers with a card that read "Get Well Soon."
"Where am I...?" Robinson asked tremulously.
"St. Patrick's Hospital," the nurse replied kindly. "You fainted and were brought here. Do you remember?"
Robinson's brain, like a rusty machine idle for twenty years, began to turn sluggishly. He was alive. This wasn't heaven. The white-clad lady was just a nurse.
What happened? He only remembered entering the sewers with Mr. Lorne, and then... and then...
"Rats! I remember a lot of rats!" Robinson clutched his sheets, frantically checking the floor as if the clean tiles might burst open with a swarm at any moment.
The old man in the next bed let out a scoff. "Scared faint by rats? What a man!"
"Those weren't ordinary rats!" Robinson shrieked. "They were huge! As big as a person! They were monsters! There's magic in the sewers! We need a mage!"
The old man's mocking grin deepened. "Keep going, kid. Write down your dream; you'll be a hit writer, more famous than that mystery novelist Mordred!"
"It wasn't a dream!" Robinson argued, face flushing.
The nurse quickly soothed him. "Alright, Mr. Robinson, you're right. I'll go get the doctor to check on you, okay?" Her tone was that of someone humoring a throwing-a-tantrum child. While polite, she clearly agreed with the old man.
The doctor was a middle-aged man with a thick beard. He checked Robinson's pulse and eyes before announcing he was fine.
"Just a mild concussion, sir," the doctor said. "You fell in the sewers and hit your head. Just rest for a while. As for giant rats, that was just a nightmare."
"It wasn't! If you don't believe me, ask Lorne Dungeon!"
"Mr. Lorne Dungeon is the one who brought you here. He explained the situation. Calm down and think: if there were really monsters like that, how could you have come out in one piece? They would have torn you apart."
Robinson was speechless. Logic told him the doctor was right, but his experience—the abandoned sewers, the inescapable maze, the ferocious rat monsters—how could it be a dream when it felt so real?
"You did see rats in the sewer, but they were just ordinary rats. In your extreme fear, you mixed them with the urban legends of your childhood. Combined with the confusion of a concussion, you had a very vivid nightmare," the doctor said in a scholarly tone.
Robinson was now uncertain. The doctor was a professional; he shouldn't question him. Maybe everything in the sewer really was a dream?
The doctor left after a few instructions. Robinson's mind felt foggy. He lay back down, staring at the ceiling. He tried to recall the journey, but every time he thought of those red eyes in the dark, he broke into a cold sweat.
The news of his hospitalization spread. His family came to scold him, colleagues sent a representative with flowers, and Dungeon Entertainment sent the beautiful Miss Selena. Everyone in the hallway stared at her as she walked by.
For the first two days, his room was never quiet. But once the well-wishers finished their rounds, it became silent. Every time footsteps sounded at the door, Robinson's eyes filled with hope. When the footsteps faded, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.
In contrast, the old man in the next bed had visitors almost every day—young people in their twenties, middle-aged people in their thirties and forties. Robinson once asked who he was; the man just put on his glasses and hid his face behind a book, dismissively saying he was "just a teacher."
Seeing how bored Robinson was, the nurse brought him a black mana slate. "The hospital bought a few for the kids in the pediatric ward to pass the time. I sneaked one for you, so don't tell anyone," she said mysteriously.
Despite visiting Lorne many times and hearing about mana games, this was Robinson's first time actually playing.
"Five-Color Stone Match-3, Hero Legend... just like the papers said..." Robinson's gaze shifted to an icon he had never seen before. It was a fuzzy little animal, like a rat but much rounder and cuter.
"What is this? Rat Simulator?"
That morning, Yvette finished her classes and headed to the Mana Game Research Club room. As president, she had to show her face, discuss progress, handle club business, and find a comfortable spot to play games in peace.
As soon as she turned on her mana slate, she was hit by a wave of splash screen advertisements.
"Dungeon Entertainment's brand new game Rat Simulator is now in open beta! Play as your own unique rat, explore the vast and mysterious underground world, find treasures, accumulate wealth, build a home, and become friends or foes with other players. Live a free-spirited 'rat life'—or embark on a quest of destiny! It all depends on your choice! Unlocks tonight at 12:00 AM. Pre-register now for a limited Newbie Gift Pack; invite friends for even more grand prizes!"
Accompanying the text was a round, adorable little rat. It stood on its hind legs, covered in soft fur, with two large front teeth that added a touch of innocence. Its small, round eyes sparkled like black pearls. Its wet nose twitched, as if smelling a delicious fragrance.
"Lorne Dungeon made a new game again?" Yvette stared at the slate, her voice full of disbelief. "Isn't he in the capital opening a new branch? I didn't think he'd launch a new game so soon! Does he have six livers? Doesn't he get tired? I'm dying just playing the games!"
The students around her, buried in the new Hero Legend 2 event, looked up with resentful gazes. You have the nerve to say that, Yvette! You're the biggest 'grinder' among us! You don't look tired at all! And you haven't spent a single cent!
Yvette continued to herself, "But this probably means everything in the capital is going well, right? Otherwise, he wouldn't have time to develop a new game. I wonder what Rat Simulator is like. According to the intro, you just play as a rat? Sounds kind of boring..."
She still preferred games like Legend of Heroes—thrilling combat, twisty plots, and handsome guys!
Chris, sitting nearby, chimed in, "I believe in Mr. Lorne Dungeon's skill! Even playing as a rat must be interesting!"
"Chris, why are you here? You're not a member of the research club," Yvette said, looking at her old friend.
Chris's father had banned him from anything related to mana games—everyone in Norellia knew it. After all, Chris was still a top-ranked whale on the leaderboards. In this era, being famous in a game was as good as being famous in reality. The top players were more popular than movie stars. Though Chris wasn't on the official roster, everyone accepted him as a member.
The blonde youth looked panicked. "Shh! Be quiet! Father sent a maid to monitor me; I barely shook her off! Just let me breathe the free air here..."
Before he could finish, a thunderous roar came from outside: "Young Master Chriiiis! You've disobeyed the master's orders again!"
The door was kicked open. A maid over two meters tall with bulging muscles strode in. With every step, the floorboards groaned. Chris scrambled to hide behind Yvette, but the maid plucked him up with one hand. In her grip, the 1.8-meter-tall Chris looked like an unweaned kitten, his feet dangling in the air.
The maid bowed politely to the other students. "My young master has caused you trouble! Please do not blame him!"
Looking at her fists—the size of sandbags—the students collectively decided not to move a muscle. Yvette watched the maid carry Chris away, waving a handkerchief. "Farewell, Chris! I'll enjoy Rat Simulator for you!"
Chris responded with incoherent screams.
The editorial office of the Norellia Herald was equally shocked by the speed of the release. "Are you sure, Grace? Is this the promotional draft from Dungeon Entertainment?"
The editor-in-chief read the draft Grace handed over several times, looking up suspiciously. "They want to promote a game but won't give us a cent? Do they know what 'advertising fees' are?"
Grace, editor and reporter, covered her ears with an air of indifference. "The times have changed, Chief. Once, Lorne Dungeon might have needed to promote his games, but now every major paper is scrambling to piggyback on his popularity. Any paper that doesn't print mana game news is seen as out of touch. Getting the latest news for free is our win."
Since they started printing mana game articles, the Herald's sales had tripled. Their peak circulation was double that of the runner-up, elevating them from a second-rate tabloid to the most popular paper in Norellia. The Capital Daily Dispatch, which reprinted their articles, also saw a surge in sales. Its editor was so grateful he had even tried to poach Grace.
"Fine, we'll waive the fee for now," the chief grunted. "But are you sure about this draft?"
This wasn't a normal ad. The last time the chief saw a draft like this, it was from a famous mystery writer who challenged readers to find the culprit for a 100-gold reward.
Grace said, "Write it exactly like this. It's Lorne Dungeon's wish."
The chief smacked his lips. "Then put it on tomorrow's front page."
Grace slowly pulled out her mana slate. "Before that, please add me as a friend. I'll send you an invite code."
"For what?"
"To get the Rat Simulator Friend Gift Pack, obviously!"
"Did you hear? Dungeon Entertainment launched a new game!" "Probably developed specifically for the players in the capital!" "Unlocks at midnight. You guys staying up?" "My friend in Norellia wired me a telegram telling me to use his code for a gift pack..."
Within a single day, Rat Simulator became the talk of the town. Whether in cafes, bars, restaurants, parks, or classrooms, everyone was discussing it.
At Artichoke Mountain Middle School, the bell had barely finished ringing before students swarmed one classmate. That person was Andy Mohawk.
As one of the first people to touch mana games, Andy was already famous. Since his father had become a customer service rep for Dungeon Entertainment—a "staff member"—students were always pestering him for inside info.
"Andy, what kind of game is Rat Simulator?" "Sounds like it's about rats? It's not a rat-catching game, is it?" "Let's place a bet!"
Though his father was just a customer service rep, he worked in the same building as the dev team and occasionally chatted with them. He picked up bits of trivia, like "Luca drew this card art." To the students, Andy was the best-informed person in school.
Usually, if Dungeon Entertainment was launching something new, they'd warn the customer service department because new games meant new players and new bugs. But this time, Andy had heard nothing. It was as if Lorne Dungeon had a sudden idea and built it overnight.
Does that guy have 48 hours in a day? Does he ever sleep?
Andy couldn't answer the questions and could only vaguely say, "It's a very interesting game. You'll see when you play it."
"Bah! That's a given! Every magic game is fun!" the students teased.
Andy was saved by his history teacher, Mr. Meyer. "Everyone sit down! Class is starting!"
The young teacher was serious-looking, but Andy knew he was a gamer too. He'd heard other teachers whispering that Mr. Meyer had actually taken leave once just to play a new game! He was more addicted than the students!
The students sat down, opening their textbooks. Though they were in the classroom, their hearts had already flown home to their mana slates.
The Gloomy Catacomb, Audience Hall.
After receiving remote instructions from Lorne, Silas, who had remained behind, spent a day and night turning the hall into a "temporary command center." Dozens of desks were lined up, each with a custom large-scale mana slate and a "mana typewriter" engraved with runic letters.
Dozens of monsters sat upright behind the desks, waiting for midnight. More monsters shuttled between them with food and drinks. Silas paced the hall with a serious expression.
"Lord Lorne has ordered that the game unlocks at midnight. There might not be many humans online immediately. Since running the game consumes mana, we must prepare for a possible shortage from the capital's side."
Silas gave orders loudly. "Once the sub-core in the capital lacks mana, we must supply it immediately! You are the most talented magic-users in the dungeon; maintain the core and the transmission network. Understood?!"
The monsters shouted back, "Yes!"
Silas looked calm, but his heart was racing. This was the first time he was left in charge alone! Not only was Lorne gone, but his sister, Wolf, Ghoulster, and even Puji were away! Entrusted with such a heavy task, he felt both honored and terrified of messing up.
What if Lord Lorne punished him? ...That thought was actually a little exciting!
The great clock of Norellia struck twelve. Simultaneously, the mana core of the Gloomy Dungeon erupted with a fiery red light, like an underground volcano.
"What happened?!" Silas shielded his eyes. "Is it a mana shortage? Quickly, transmit mana to the sub-core!"
"N-no, Lord Silas!" the monster in charge of the network shouted. "It's the opposite! There's too much mana!"
"What?"
"The sub-core is absorbing too much mana—it's overflowing! We have to release some, or the network will collapse!"
"I thought there wouldn't be many players online! What the hell is going on?!"