They sat near the edge of the northern district, in the shadow of a crumbling wall.
From here, they could see the patrols guarding the dungeon—but remained unseen.
Raven flicked a stone at a rat scuttling by.
"Ever wonder why only the Town Lord's men are allowed inside the dungeon?"
Alex didn't reply. He was watching the guards rotate. Memorizing routes. Weaknesses.
"I figured there's something in there worth keeping hidden," he said eventually.
"Exactly," Raven snapped his fingers. "Whatever's inside—it's not just monsters or skill books. No ordinary town can contain Thorne and his Fangs."
"A small place like Dera shouldn't be able to keep high-level monsters trapped. If Thorne had any limits… he would've expanded. But his hunger—"
Raven looked toward the gate.
"—his hunger's still growing."
Alex didn't speak. Just listened.
Raven glanced sideways. "You're not like the others here. They're scared. Or stupid. You… you're different."
"I don't like questions," Alex muttered.
"Good," Raven grinned. "Then you'll love this plan."
He pulled out a piece of old parchment. A rough charcoal map—faded and smudged.
"Every five days, a supply caravan enters the dungeon. Food. Gear. Medicine. For the Fangs stationed inside."
"It's escorted by low-tier sentries. That's our way in."
"There's always at least one Fang inside."
Alex frowned. "And once we're in?"
Raven grinned. "We improvise."
Alex's jaw tightened. "I don't like plans that rely on luck."
"Then get stronger and make your own luck."
Raven stood and stretched.
"We go tomorrow. Next supply drop. I've already stashed two uniforms. You'll fit."
Alex didn't reply.
Raven was reckless. Impulsive. The kind of person who charged through obstacles instead of planning around them.
But he had something Alex didn't right now.
A way forward.
And Alex needed forward.
Even if it meant stepping straight into the lion's den—
Thorne Valrick's Dungeon.
Later That Night
Alex crouched on a rooftop.
Below him, another wanted poster fluttered in the wind.
Two drunk sentries passed it, laughing, not even glancing at it.
He pulled his hood tighter.
Ahead, the tall walls of the North District loomed—where the dungeon gate stood like a sentinel in stone.
Somewhere beyond those walls…
Were answers.
Answers about the System, about the Level 10 limit, and maybe—
A clue how he got here.
He remembered the little girl. Her tears. Her bruises.
Then Varnes.
Martha.
The ease with which they wanted him dead.
This town wasn't broken.
It was built this way.
Shaped for fear.
Shaped for control.
Tomorrow, he would walk into its darkest heart. And if he had to tear it down to find the truth—
So be it.