The improvised shield-sled rocketed down the reverse slope like a skipped stone over a pond.

  The bouncing soon stopped, the wind whipped past them, tearing a scream from Dr. Spencer’s throat. To his credit, the doctor did not pass out like Shane had half-expected, and held on tight.

  Shane steered with subtle shits of his weight, carving a path through the overgrown trail with the shield.

  Behind them, the rhythmic tremor of the earth announced Henry’s location. He was sprinting after them. For a tank, the pup was surprisingly quick, with the momentum of a freight train to keep pace with the sliding shield.

  Sssst-Hiss!

  Grotesque flora, bulbous purple plants that lined the path, triggered as they sensed movement. They spat globs of sizzling acid at the space Shane had occupied a fraction of a second prior. Henry was lucky, because thanks to the cooldown, he simply sprinted down the path, jumping over the small craters that had just formed.

  From behind, he yelled, “Captaaaain!”

  Shane ignored him.

  Dr. Spencer, who was staring wide-eyed and clutching the shield handle somehow, screamed, “W-w-wait! Up ahead! Turn around!”

  “Captain, look out!” Henry added to the chorus.

  They’re going to burst my eardrums.

  But with the System recording, Shane could only clamp his mouth shut.

  After witnessing the power of a deceptively edited video in his second life, how easily any word could be twisted, he had learned his lesson.

  Instead, he watched the mud ahead ripple.

  The ground exploded and a wart-covered head the size of a dump truck burst from the mud directly in their path. Its maw hinged open, revealing a gullet wide enough to swallow a horse.

  A Giant Toad. B-rank monster.

  There was no room to swerve.

  Shane grabbed the back of Dr. Spencer’s collar and leaped, driving his boots down hard. The force of his kick sent the shield flying forward, straight into the toad’s gaping mouth. He stomped hard on the beast’s head, using it as a springboard to jump clear.

  The toad, thinking it had caught its prey, sank back into the mud with a satisfied gulp.

  Shane twisted in the air and landed lightly on his feet. He immediately released his grip on Dr. Spencer’s collar, letting the man crumple to the ground in a heap beside him.

  “Captain, are you alright?”

  Henry skidded to a halt before rushing to Shane’s side.

  A strangled groan came from the muddy heap on the ground.

  “Yes... by all means... check on the guy who landed on his feet.” Dr. Spencer wheezed, his face still planted on the wet ground. “I’m just resting in the mud. Take your time.”

  ***

  Several hours of moving through the labyrinth dungeon, the oppressive scenery finally began to lift.

  The swamp thinned out, the sucking mud giving way to solid earth. Through the breaks in the trees, a shimmering orange light beckoned to them.

  The exit portal.

  Surprisingly, even after the hell run Shane had put the doctor through, he didn’t curse at Shane once.

  Probably because of the System recording, he mused.

  A public figure like Dr. Spencer—a man whose research grants depended on his reputation—always had to be mindful of his image.

  “I see the exit, Captain!” Henry pointed.

  “Ha... Jesus, finally…” Dr. Spencer sighed, his shoulders sagging in relief.

  He seemed to catch a second wind, stumbling into a job toward the swirling portal. He had every right to be happy.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  A civilian researcher had just survived an A-rank dungeon anomaly.

  Of course, he wouldn’t be as happy as Shane. He was about to get sole credit for the clear, with rewards that matched the contribution score, and a favor from a leading researcher on parahuman studies.

  The other two would just have to deal with some exposure.

  Shane followed a few paces behind, calculating what sort of reward he’d get, when he froze.

  ...What the hell?

  For the first time since he had fallen in this dungeon, he was genuinely surprised.

  The portal, which had been humming steadily just a second ago, flickered violently, as if it was glitching, distorting like a bad video signal.

  Then, vanished.

  In place of the exit, a figure materialized in a blinding flash of light.

  A series of crimson texts flashed in front of Shane’s eyes.

  [Err#??]

  [??n@uth%rized p#r##eter detec??ed.]

  [AL#RT: EXT??RN@L ??NTITY A????EMPTING SYS??EM OVE??RIDE]

  [...........]

  [The White Wing descends to the mortal realm.]

  Swearing, Shane’s hand instinctively dug into his inventory to get his weapon, his eyes not leaving the new figure.

  This had never happened in the game before.

  “W-wing?” Henry stammered. “Don’t tell me that’s... a Celestial monster?”

  Having the name “Wing” in its name meant it was on a different level from all the other Celestial monsters they had met.

  Excluding the Seven Virtues they serve, the Wings were the strongest Celestial monsters you could encounter.

  “Run,” said Dr. Spencer choked out. “W-we have to run! Now!”

  But it was too late.

  A crushing pressure, heavy as a physical weight, pushed down on them and rooted them to the spot.

  The light faded, revealing the entity within.

  It floated in the air, its form translucent and shimmering. Silver hair cascaded down to its waist, and a solid halo of gold was suspended around its neck. Blue aura—the same color as its piercing, pupilless eyes—pulsed around the angel.

  This was wrong. This was all completely wrong.

  Shane had run this dungeon dozens of times in the past as a game, and he’d never met anything like this.

  The Heaven’s Executioner was a glass cannon that hit hard but had less health than a standard A-rank monster.

  This thing was different.

  The oppressive aura alone told him this was a true S-rank entity.

  The White Wing spoke, its voice devoid of all emotion. The language wasn’t English, but the System translated it directly in Shane’s mind.

  “?Who dares disturb the sacred ground and covet the knowledge of the divine??”

  Sacred ground and divine knowledge?

  The pieces clicked into place with horrifying clarity. Shane almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

  We’re screwed.

  The “sacred ground” meant the dungeon itself. And the one who “coveted divine knowledge”... that could only be one person.

  The researcher, Dr. Spencer.

  Shane suddenly understood the trigger for this boss fight. In his past playthroughs, he had always entered the dungeon alone to farm its rewards, which meant he just tossed the doctor outside to jump in.

  In playthroughs where he didn’t bother to save Dr. Spencer nor enter the dungeon, the doctor either died inside it or escaped as a broken shell of a man.

  This was the first time Shane had entered the dungeon with the researcher. Could that have somehow changed the future?

  Damn it.

  When Shane had cleared this place alone when playing the game, he had high-level guild buffs and gear to brute-force his way through.

  Now? This time, he was a rookie focused only on a speed-run escape.

  From the White Wing’s perspective, all three of them probably looked like insignificant insects. Which Shane might be able to use to his advantage.

  Because that meant... it couldn’t tell which one was the real researcher.

  Shane decided to force the issue.

  “It’s asking which one of us is the researcher.”

  “Captain, you can... you can understand it?”

  Wait. They couldn’t understand the White Wing’s words?

  Shit.

  He was too focused on translating what “sacred ground” and everything meant that he hadn’t checked if the System was delivering the Wing’s words to them, too.

  Thankfully, something else seemed to occupy the doctor’s mind.

  He looked from the Wing to Shane. Dr. Spencer’s face had drained of all color, understanding the implication that the monster was here for him.

  Shane almost sighed. Could he really get the doctor out of here alive? This might’ve all been a total waste of time.

  On a hunch, he focused his gaze on the angel, trying to will its status window to open.

  It worked.

  [Name: White Wing]

  [Rank: A (S)]

  [State: Constrained]

  Ah.

  Shane’s posture relaxed slightly. Apparently, when an S-rank monster forced its way into a lower level dungeon, their ranks dropped to match the environment.

  The White Wing looked quite frustrated about this power downgrade, continuously trying to open its wing and failing at the same time.

  Shane’s eyes scanned the rest of the data. His grin widened.

  [Skills]

  [???????? - LOCKED]

  [????????- LOCKED]

  Divine Judgment: A- (S-)

  [???????? - LOCKED]

  ...

  All of its skills were locked except for one.

  It really underestimated us, didn’t it?

  Still, this was the perfect opportunity.

  Shane had been a little worried that Dr. Spencer hadn’t seemed particularly grateful for the rescue so far. But this… he had a chance to put the doctor in his debt for good.

  Stepping forward, Shane moved in front of the doctor, dusting off his jacket, and met the White Wing’s cold, blue gaze.

  “That would be me.”

  Henry whipped his head around to stare at him in disbelief.

  But Shane didn’t so much as blink. He just stared the angel down, his expression bored because of the [Behavior Lock].

  Since the S-rank monster served itself up on a silver platter, he was going to devour everything its got.

  Shane gave a final glance at the terrified doctor.

  After all this, Doc, you better make it worth my while.