Galaxy's First Ruler

"Haha…Haha…"

The entire house resounded first with the laughter of an old man, then a middle-aged, and then a young man. When his wife entered the room, Mr. Edwin had already been wiping the tears. He hugged his wife, and said, "It's a good thing don't worry, I will remain a little busy from now on."

After consoling his wife, Mr. Edwin opened the first message.

ATF: Buy 100 Mana-Shockwave Grenades, 10 Health Potions, and 10 Stamina Potions. Time Limit: 3 days.

'Hmm, I can manage it.' He opened the second message in succession.

ATF: Book a Dungeon for 1 Dreamer. I have sent the details to your mail.

'This…?' Only the Guilds had used the Dungeons other than the time of Random Allocation. It was to give their Rookies valuable experience and level-up them faster. It could be one of the toughest tasks his client had asked Mr. Edwin to do. But instead of worrying, a devilish smile had come upon his face.

Mr. Edwin looked in the mirror, combed his hair, and said, "Right away, Boss."

*

Earth

From the last few months, the name of an organization had been popping up. Both in confidential Government documents and in public online forums. Despite the content on both sides, none could argue against its capabilities. It even got compared with the two most famous Guilds, the Blazing Royals and the Snow Oath. The infamy of the organization had been on the rise since the beginning of Dungeon's emergence. But this infamy had been known to be restricted to the Government circle.

The Black Hand Society, or Black Hand, was famous for its underground market deals and ease of access to various Items and information. Nobody knew of the leader of this society, but rumors about the leader being a Baron were widespread.

In a mountainous area, there was a small house. Smaller than the surrounding trees, the verdant backyard, and the highs and lows of the wind.

"You could have told me before coming," Annie said, picking up a few herbs.

"I don't enjoy coming here."

"Humph! Who else is here to see you other than me?"

"It doesn't matter."

"So what trouble have you brought me this time?" The playful smile on Annie's face betrayed her stern words.

"One of my boys has reported something crucial."

Annie stood up, seeing the serious look on her counterpart. She hadn't been a fan of these crucial details, and yet she had to deal with them.

"From which Guild?"

"Blazing Royals."

Annie's eyes narrowed at the mention of the name. It wasn't every day they got to receive critical information from the Baron's 'Home'. They went into the house and Annie served him a cup of hot tea and some homemade cookies. A few minutes of savoring the flavor went by unnoticed. Before they placed the cups down on the table, a thick black fog had already surrounded the small house.

"Is it that serious?" Annie asked, looking at the darkness of fog overpowering nature's green.

"One of the Guild's recruiters was in Wenatchee, Washington. You know him, the one who had lost his arm in the last Dungeon-Fail incident."

Both of them felt the bitterness of tea leaves return at the mention of the Dungeon-Fail.

"Yes, wasn't he the one who tried to stop that 'thing' by himself? A brave one." Annie vaguely remembered the scene.

"Not brave, but undeniably stupid. Well, he chanced upon something extraordinary this time. The concise details are like this. First, he suddenly had a vivid feeling of being watched from all around, like being targeted by every living and non-living thing."

Annie's face distorted. "How… we didn't get any notice of Dungeon-Fail from that area. And isn't he of the Rare rank? It's not like he needs to call out 'Record' to use his abilities like a Common Dreamer."

"Yes, and no there were no failed Dungeons, there isn't even a Dungeon in that city."

"This makes little sense." The doctorate of Annie had no use in such baffling circumstances.

"Then it was probably illogical to Edmund or other Dreamers either. But I have a theory."

"Wait a minute, is that why you have come?" A look of disappointment came over Annie.

"Yes, and for this."

Annie blushed, seeing the ring that the man had taken out.

"Are you still thinking about idiotic things? It's a powerful Item."

"Whatever…" Annie hastily snatched the ring and put it on her ring finger.

The man shook his head.

"Anyway, there is another possibility which might seem outrageous but possible enough in these times."

"What possibility?"

"A Dreamer, a Rookie with the Perception Attribute over 50. And if there is one, then we, the Black Hand Society, must have him over our side."

*

6 June 2021

Arizona, USA

Thunder Guild was quite famous in the USA, with many branches spread over the southwestern states. On the monthly ranking of Guilds in America, the Thunder Guild had secured a 4th place for the 3rd time in a row. The HQ of the Guild was in Arizona, famous for featuring a wonder of the World. The Grand Canyon was among the few places which had faced the least drop in tourism since the descent of the Night.

Mr. Roger Brown was the Guild's Director of Dungeons. Booking the Dungeons in the 'Bright Day' was among the many important tasks that came under his purview. Bright day was a term invented to represent the time other than the 5 hours of Random Allocation.

The booking process was quite fluent and efficient, but had become exorbitant because of the rise in competition. To let go of any booked Dungeon was one of the most heinous crimes in the business.

And yet, Mr. Brown was standing in front of one of these booked Dungeons. He was waiting for a suicidal maniac. He still can't believe the Guild leader would voluntarily let go of one dungeon. Every single Dungeon was a valuable experience for the Rookies.

"And to let it go for a psycho who wants to go in and die? Damn! Even if these Dungeons differ from those from the Night, no Dreamer would in their right mind go alone in one of them."

Mr. Brown saw the muddy-yellow pillar of light, and thoughts of some unfortunate events had surfaced in his mind. The back of the Director had just become wet when a car came straight towards him. The headlights flashed right in his eyes, blinding the thoughts of gore and unimaginable horror. He saw a man had stepped out of the car. He was already repulsed by the way this man had hogged a whole Dungeon, and he felt even more disgust when he saw the black mask on the man's face.

One couldn't even call it a proper mask, as neither there were holes to look through nor there was any mouth hole. The black 'mask' coupled with the black jacket and the black jeans portrayed a very dull sight.

'From where do these kinds of people come from?' Mr. Brown thought, approaching the man.

"Hello," Mr. Brown said, raising his hand in the hope of a handshake. He soon realized it was a futile attempt. The man just proceeded towards the Statue without even introducing himself. Now Mr. Brown in his circle was quite an important man. And let's not forget the fact of him being respected, even by the Dreamers. Mr. Brown was more used to getting scared than to feel embarrassed these days. He clenched his teeth and followed the man, and thought 'I shouldn't curse a dying man. No, I shouldn't.'

An employee from ADA, with two armed men, had been standing near the Statue to verify the Dreamers. Mr. Brown saw the man had taken out his Dreamer Licence for the verification. A Dreamer Licence was inherently different from their other counterparts. There was no name, address, or photo on it. The only thing mentioned on the DL was an ID, which only the ADA's employees could have used.

Mr. Brown, being the owner of Dungeon for the next 36 hours, had already explained today's queer circumstance to the employee. The employee didn't react to the mask as much as Mr. Brown had hoped for. The ADA's employees only stuck to their job and stayed out of unnecessary trouble. Seeing everything had gone down too smoothly, Mr. Brown ran to the man and said, "Wait a minute."

"I know it's not my place to argue here, but you should at least give your life another chance." Mr. Brown couldn't see the expressions behind the mask, he could only guess at the turmoil of emotions a man would face before his death. Upon not getting a response, Mr. Brown let out a defeated sigh. He took out a folded document from his pocket and handed it over to the man.

"Ok, it's your choice. Take this, it contains the information on different Crawlers that have spawned in this Dungeon." Mr. Brown eyed the back of the man as he approached the Statue, and the muddy-yellow pillar gradually turned green. A portal had also opened up just beneath the Statue.

'What was the Guild Leader thinking before he sent me to witness this unpleasant event?' Mr. Brown shook his head.

Inside the Dungeon, Aldrich took off his mask and opened the document. It seemed one had deliberately highlighted the title in menacing red.

Monument–Buckey O'Neill, Prescott (Arizona).