“Aaaaah!” I happily exhale. “A new day, a new opportunity. A new opportunity to screw with DMA players, fufufu! Hahaha!”

  I excitedly rub my hands together. How long has it been? I can’t quite remember.

  “It doesn’t matter. Today is a happy day because it’s time to update my dungeon!”

  And look at this! Look at this ridiculous number, hahaha! The cp I’ve accumulated after all this time has reached the sixth digit! It’s all because of how amazing my dungeon is! Hahaha!

  …Of course, the tournament’s popularity boost has had a part in it, too. But let’s ignore the facts, okay?

  Alright, alright… I should calm down and focus.

  Now that I’m here at last, the last thing I want to do is to waste my time. I can’t waste what little time remains before classes start, and the time I can spend playing DMA is reduced.

  I’m still considering what to do with M&Dx2’s offer. Marta’s warning put the fear in my body…

  I’ll have to talk to her later about it.

  Anyway. Regardless of what I end up doing, one fact remains: the time to update my dungeon has come. It doesn’t matter what choice I take; I still need to upgrade my monsters, dungeon areas, traps, and everything else.

  There’s a tremendous amount of work I must do, and there are two ways I can go about it.

  First, I analyze the dungeon from an objective point of view, contrasting my thoughts with the comments on the forums, finding flaws and ways to improve my dungeon, and getting new ideas.

  Second, browse the ‘current dungeon invasions’ list and watch random players invade my dungeon. From their reactions, thoughts, and suffering, I can extract useful information on how to improve my dungeon. This also has the advantage of being entertaining. Like watching an improvisation show with a fixed genre.

  A genre called ‘tragedy’.

  “Just a short peek won’t hurt…” I convince myself, pressing a random dungeon instance.

  A screen appears in front of me—to be more precise, one of the ‘control room’ screens lights up—and someone’s Dungeon Invasion is shown in front of me.

  I make sure to place the Octocat in the correct position so I can pet it while watching, like a proper boss villain character, and then…

  “Oooh, Great Mad Rat—” I immediately close the replay.

  Fate has decided for me. Instead of watching the replays, I’ll think about how I can improve my dungeon the old school way: using my brain.

  Fuck. I hate using my brain… Why did they have to be the first ones to pop up…? Sigh… I guess there’s no option left.

  “Alright, me, let’s think…” I softly, but repeatedly, punch my head, “...what was the last thing I changed?”

  I can’t quite recall.

  Wasn’t it the Abohemoth…? Yes, it was. But that was during the tournament, and I never got to use it in my dungeon. The last thing I did before the tournament started was… the Waste Disposal Unit?

  “Yes, yes, it was the WDU!”

  Right after I created the WDU came the training. Then, the tournament… Oh my god, it feels like ages!

  As for the new units I created during all that time, I believe it’s just the Abohemoth and The Black Horde. Oh, and The Surprise! I almost forgot about that one because we didn’t use it after the preliminaries.

  For now, I’ve left the three somewhere in my dungeon, out of the invader’s reach. A place that doesn’t communicate with the rest of the dungeon. That’s where I’ve dumped all the monsters I save for PvP, as well as those I bring with me to my own invasions, like Cyam and the Good Followers.

  Oh, and if you’re curious about it, I’ve decided to stop trying to find a better name for the Abohemoth.

  You know how it goes. The more you say the name, the less awkward and awful it sounds, until you get used to it…

  Anyway, I’m digressing.

  I’m not sure what to do with the Abohemoth yet. It’s pretty useful when I’m riding it, but otherwise its stats are lacking—it’s a 40% stat swing between having or not having a rider. So, for now, I’ll keep it here.

  As for The Black Horde… I’m sure that if I were to place them in my dungeon, the invader count would drop drastically in just a few days, maybe hours if word of it spread quickly.

  I can safely place a few, scattered throughout the dungeon like other critters, using them as bait or to remind the invaders who watched our matches of their existence. An easter egg of sorts.

  But if I were to put the whole horde, the players would freak out… I don’t want to torment my invaders that much. Key word: that.

  “Hmm… Ah, I know! I’ll just hide them somewhere and release them at will!”

  I’ll leave a few out and hide the rest behind a locked door or something. Then, if it coincides that I’m watching someone’s invasion in real time and feel like it, I can always enter their dungeon instance and release the bugs. Otherwise, the players will never have to face them.

  It’ll be like playing a lottery. A very, extremely disgusting lottery, where the only one who ever wins is me.

  What will happen if the players discover that door and force it open? Well… It’d be like opening Pandora’s box. But it’d be their own fault, they can’t blame me for their own stupidity, now can they? Hahaha!

  “Yeah, I’ve decided. Let’s do that.”

  This leaves The Surprise. This one does fit in my dungeon pretty well, if I do say so myself. Similar to the preliminary matches, knowing that The Surprise exists isn’t necessarily an advantage, as you don’t know where it is.

  I can already envision it mimicking a false security door in the Sealed Area, a mushroom in the large cave with the turtles, or even the elevator connecting the Botanical Garden with the rest of the dungeon.

  But I’ll have to think about this more carefully, because placing The Surprise in a static place would defeat the whole ‘surprise’ idea, and changing the dungeon to fit its nature while making it spawn randomly is more challenging than it sounds.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “I’ll think about it later.” Leave it for later, my preferred way to do things

  Having decided what to do with the new additions, I start the proper dungeon review and analysis. It’s hard, and it takes a while, but after a long time…

  …I end up with an idea for a new dungeon area instead of fixing the current one. Oh, that, and also how to put to use the house–sized crematorium in the WDU, as well as the not completely finished recycling pool. Also, to add another puzzle to the ‘puzzle area’ so there are at least two of them, and there’s an actual reason to call it like that.

  There’s so much to do!

  Hey, did you think I wouldn’t notice!? Don’t stare at me like that! One does what he can with his small conscience and sense of duty, understood!?

  So what if my original objective was something else? There’s nothing I can do about it.

  I start rubbing my hands together like a villain.

  “Well, well, well… It’s time to go ‘shopping’ for new non-voluntary subordinates. Fufufu! Hahaha!”

  What cute creatures am I going to ‘buy’ today, you ask? Are you curious? Suck it up because I’m not going to tell! Fufufu! Hahaha!

  I come back from the first dungeon, slightly tired from the effort to capture new units. What tires me isn’t the capture process in itself, but the repetition. When you need several identical units, wasting time with each one can get pretty annoying.

  “Good job today, Cyam. You’re the be—”

  *Piriring!*

  Right as I’m talking, an unexpected sound puts me on alert. “Isn’t that… Aaaaah! It’s the mutation vats!”

  I’ve been keeping my ‘mutation’ experiments for a while, hoping for a lucky hit with the Stitched since that time I got one with the ability to use the dragon’s breath skill. I haven’t been lucky for a second time, though. Not yet, at least.

  I know what you might be thinking. Stitched are useless, so I should stop wasting time and cp on them.

  You’re right, but…

  The thing about the Stitched is that they’re dirt cheap. I don’t need much to create them, just the body of a dead unit, which I can get plenty of by just letting the invaders die in my dungeon, without having to lift a finger.

  The other units I could get without spending much effort are the Flesh Golem and the Fleshlings, but those require alive units, and I’m not willing to fill my chambers with random garbage (humans) just to get a few of them.

  So that leaves the Stitched as the only option. That’s why I keep using them.

  Also, sharing with Clara and the other two the ridiculous skills they get when the mutation is successful has been a late pastime of mine…

  I still laugh every time I recall that poor soul who got the Take Root skill—the Dryad’s signature skill—, which is pretty good on a normal unit because it reduces the cost of skills, but is completely useless on units like the Stitched because they’re too weak to make proper use of it. In the end, we decided the best use for it was to turn it into a scarecrow.

  Which, by the way, I did. “Hahaha, poor guy… That Stitched is still guarding one of my farms from non-existent pests… Hahaha.”

  I excitedly dash to the ‘mutation room’, which is just a room with a few mutation vats, and immediately start opening them, one by one.

  It’s like opening presents that may (or may not) contain an alive Stitched with a random skill!

  The first two are failures, as well as the third. But when I open the fourth one…

  “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! This is… This is one of the best skills in the whole game!”

  I’m sure you’ve seen this skill before, because it’s one of my older sister’s favorite skills. Anthemia, my sister, is one of the most famous players in DMA. She’s known for her sword skills, as well as her signature and ultimate move.

  Yeah, you’re right! The skill this Stitched got is none other than Divine Wrath!

  “Oh, my, goooood! It’s Divine Wraaaaath!” I shout, fangirling.

  If only there wasn’t a teeny, tiny problem with the fact that the unit that got it is a Stitched, everything would be perfect, but that problem exists.

  Can you spot it?

  Divine Wrath, one of the most acclaimed skills in DMA, is a contender for the strongest non-innate—although faction-specific—skill. It’s an ultimate skill, allowing a strong fighter to turn the tide of battle singlehandedly, and without harming allies at that!

  Buuuuut that’s the problem, you see? That Divine Wrath’s power depends on the stats of the unit using it.

  A Seraphim, the strongest angel unit wielding Divine Wrath, is like a force of nature. Unstoppable. But a Stitched, my faction’s basic unit, wielding it? Good luck if it can even kill, not a regular unit, but a critter.

  At a meager 30 Max MP, Divine Wrath can do a maximum of 11 damage. There are no skills that can fix this.

  I mean, can you imagine it?

  The air shakes, holy light drops from the sky—or ceiling, if you’re indoors. The air vibrates, the ground shakes. Bright light momentarily blinds everyone in the most sacred of spectacles imaginable, leaving everyone in awe…

  …and then, when the visual effects disappear, it’s as if nothing happened. Your HP barely budged.

  “Oh, my, goooood! I love this so much! This is so, so, sooooooo perfect!”

  Without a second to waste, I immediately start modifying the Stitched’s basic Braindead template and assign this mutated Stitched to it.

  I change the Stitched’s aspect. Perfect, immaculate white skin. The Stitched are pale by default, because they’re made up of corpse parts, but this one is as white as snow, and without a single blemish. Despite the unit’s ugly face and mismatched body parts, I make sure this one isn’t as disgusting. I hide all the ‘stitches’, making it look more like a mutated creature instead of a Frankenstein-style abomination.

  What I mean by this is that it looks natural. Disgusting and ugly, but natural.

  Finally, I dress the Stitched in holy clothes and place a fake halo behind its head—in truth, it’s a circular lamp stuck to its head, as if it were an antenna, but the effect, when observed from afar, looks like an angel’s halo.

  I also change its behavior. Instead of moving in packs while moaning like a zombie horde, as the other Braindead do, this one will wander the dungeon alone while staying calm.

  And then, when it finds an invader, it will start blessing them with Divine Wrath’s light.

  Yes, you heard it right. I said ‘bless’. If it looks holy and doesn’t damage you, it’s a blessing and not an attack. You can’t change my mind about it.

  The template’s name? Of course, there’s but a single name I can give it: Chosen One.

  “Hahaha! This is so perfect! Soooooooo powerful! I’m looking forward to telling Marta about this new unit I’ve gotten my hands on…” I hope I won’t regret it later. She can get pretty scary sometimes…

  I get so obsessed with this god-sent present that I completely forget about opening the rest of the presents (mutation vats).

  What about cloning the Stitched, you ask? To your question, I say:

  Sacrilege! It’s the Chosen One! There can only be one Chosen One, that’s why it contains the word ‘one’ in its name!

  The Chosen One, with both skin and clothes completely white, creates a stark contrast to the rest of my dungeon, which mostly uses earth and dark tones. It makes the Chosen One stick out like a sore thumb. But hey, that’s a bonus in my opinion.

  “Oh, yeah… There was something I was supposed to do… Hmm… Who cares? The Chosen One is more important! It’s the Chosen One, after all! There’s nothing more important than him! Fufufu! Hahaha!”

  Even though I haven’t seen it in action yet, I love this guy so much already!