Capítulo 43: SECOND FLOOR LOBBY
Ravan and Jet the Bunny moved cautiously through the dungeon's second floor, their steps echoing softly off the stone walls.
The further they ventured, the louder the sound of chattering voices became.
'People?' Ravan thought.
The distant murmurs grew in volume, merging into a cacophony of conversation that filled the air.
As they approached the source of the noise, a bright light began to filter through the narrow passageway, illuminating their path.
'Alright Ravan, just keep low until you've located Kael and the others.'
Ravan adjusted the Shapeshifter's Guise on his face, its presence both a comfort and a reminder of the fight he had endured.
The passage opened into a spacious lobby, a temporary haven for those who had survived the first floor's trials.
The room was filled with people, their clothes soaked in blood, their faces etched with exhaustion and fear.
Some were sitting on the ground, leaning against the walls, while others paced restlessly, their eyes darting around the room.
Ravan found a corner and settled himself there, Jet curling up beside him.
He observed the room, noting the diminished numbers.
"People really did die, not surprised...I would've been one of them if it wasn't for the system."
The group that had started this journey was much larger; now, only a fraction remained.
He knew some had died, their lives claimed by the dungeon's relentless challenges.
He would have been one of them if it weren't for the system.
The survivors were a ragtag bunch, their garments torn and stained.
Each carried sacks or bundles, the makeshift spoils of their journey.
The items they had salvaged ranged from pieces of clothing to shards of metal and stone, hastily fashioned into primitive weapons.
'I guess everyone is collecting valuable items and boss drops. Probably for their survival or to make a fortune when they survive all this by selling them,' Ravan thought, squeezing his bag.
'Not that I don't plan to do the same.'
Ravan's eyes scanned the room, taking in the various conversations.
One group, huddled near the center, was discussing the betrayals they had faced.
"I can't believe Marcus just left us," one man said, his voice filled with disbelief.
"We trusted him, and he abandoned us at the first sign of danger!"
"Trust? In this place?" a woman scoffed, her arm wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage made out of a piece of cloth she had torn off.
"I trust no one anymore. Not after what happened with Jenna."
Laughter erupted from another corner, where a man was recounting a particularly absurd encounter.
"So there I was, face-to-face with this giant rat, right? And all I had was this stick," he waved the makeshift weapon, a gnarled piece of wood with a sharpened tip.
"I swear, I must have looked like a complete idiot!"
The room filled with laughter, a momentary reprieve from the grim reality they faced.
But not all conversations were light-hearted.
A man with a missing leg, propped up against the wall, spoke in hushed tones to his companion.
"It's just the second floor. We barely made it out alive. How are we supposed to survive the rest?"
His companion, a woman with a crude blade strapped to her side, nodded grimly.
"We need to stick together, form a plan. If we don't, we'll never make it."
"Stick together? STICK TOGETHER?!!!"
"Shit, we're definitely fucked!"
Ravan listened, his eyes flicking from one group to another.
The makeshift weapons they carried were a testament to their ingenuity and desperation.
Spears made from broken branches, daggers fashioned from sharp stones, and shields cobbled together from bits of wood and metal.
Amidst the chatter, one voice rose above the rest, filled with anger and frustration.
"It's all a setup! We're being led like lambs to the slaughter!"
The speaker, a burly man with a wild look in his eyes, paced back and forth.
"They want us to turn on each other, to lose hope!"
Ravan's mind wandered, reflecting on his own experience.
He had nearly lost his life multiple times already.
The system had been his saving grace, granting him skills and strength he wouldn't have had otherwise.
"Interface," Ravan said as he had gotten used to having the screen system appear infront of him by saying or thinking it.
●●●●|Status|●●●●
[Name: Ravan]
[Class: SSS-Rank Weakling]
[Vitality: 219]
[Strength: 24]
[Dexterity: 22]
[Intelligence: 28]
[Endurance: 25]
[Luck: 30]
○○○|Skills|○○○
[Self-Healing: 1/2 attempts remaining]
[Refinement: Allows the conversion of monster parts into weapons and items]
[Shadow Blacksmith's Imitation- ]
-------|Inventory|-------
[Paralysis Fangs: Daggers made from centipede mandibles, with the special attribute of inducing paralysis]
"Hmmm...Dexterity is new."
"Me barely escaping death countless times from the Floor 1 monsters must have increased my luck even making it a stat," Ravan said inwardly chuckling.
"There's still a new skill that I got and the Second floor lobby is the perfect place to test it out with all the different weapons and artifacts in here."
He glanced at Jet, who was now nibbling on a piece of moss, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around them.
A group nearby was discussing strategies for the next floor, their voices filled with both hope and trepidation.
"We need to find a safe path, avoid the traps," a young man said, his face pale but determined.
"If we work together, we can make it."
"Yeah, and if we don't?" an older woman interjected, her tone bitter.
"We end up like the ones who didn't make it this far. Dead or worse."
"Working together has so far proved useless and a death wish!"
The room fell into a momentary silence, the weight of their reality sinking in.
Then, slowly, the conversations resumed, each person clinging to whatever hope they could muster.
Ravan continued to watch and listen, absorbing the stories and plans around him.
He knew he couldn't trust anyone fully, not after what he had witnessed.
But he also knew that survival in this dungeon would require more than just strength and skill.
It would require cunning, vigilance, and a willingness to adapt.
"And that's what I'm all about now."
He glanced down at Jet, who looked up at him with bright, inquisitive eyes.
"Guess it's just you and me, Jet," he murmured, stroking the rabbit's soft fur.
A group of three men approached Ravan, their eyes fixated on the peculiar mask he wore.
The leader of the group, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, smirked as he addressed Ravan.
"Nice mask you've got there," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Not that anyone gives a damn about looks in this hellhole."
The second man, a wiry figure with a missing tooth, snorted in agreement.
"Yeah, fancy mask, but it won't save you from the monsters in here."
Ravan remained silent, his eyes hidden behind the mask, as he listened to their taunts.
Jet the Bunny, perched comfortably on his shoulder, twitched its nose and flicked its singular horn.
The third man, taller and leaner, suddenly grinned widely, his gaze locking onto the rabbit.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A Horned Rabbit? That's quite the rare find."
The leader's smirk widened as he took a step closer, his hand resting on the hilt of a crude sword.
"Hand over the rabbit," he demanded.
"We've been feeling a bit hungry, and that little critter would do wonders for our mana exhaustion."
Ravan tensed, his mind racing.
He knew the rabbit's regenerative abilities could indeed replenish mana, but he wasn't about to hand over Jet.
The rabbit had become an unexpected companion, and he wasn't going to sacrifice it to these thugs.
"Fuck off," Ravan said, his voice calm but firm.
"The rabbit stays with me."
A/N: Ravan wearing the Shapeshifter's Guise is in the comments. More on Discord:)
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