Xen had to hold back for the first time in a long while, and he hated it.

  Ever since he'd become a shapeshifter, he'd been forced to hide what he really was—a monster. Every new human he met came with the same rule: act like one of them, or die.

  It started with Sarah. Then came Eric, cornering him on the stairs down to the second floor. After that, the hunting party that pursued him, and Brandon, whom he devoured alongside many others.

  Until now, he had masked his true nature to survive.

  Yet, with Randy, Vesper, and Valoria, he had cultivated enough trust to let the mask slip. For a short moment on the fourth floor, he had felt truly free to be himself.

  But now that he found himself deep in human territory, surrounded by watching eyes. Left with no choice, he had to put the mask of humanity back on.

  Though, for once, it wasn't out of weakness. He was likely stronger than anyone on this floor with his decently high level and vast array of skills—but that didn't matter. The humans outnumbered him. They would always outnumber him, and they could call upon allies that could kill him with a thought, like the level 300 leader of the Titanborn guild, Chronos.

  Until I'm stronger than him, I must act like a human, and right now, I'm Ghostwire the Savior, Xen told himself as he used Ghoststep to circle behind a level 32 Ironmaw Skirmisher. Since Ghostwire had possessed no direct combat skills, Xen had to rely on his [Sword Proficiency] passive and stats granted by his high level to guide his mithril shortsword between the obsidian-skinned orc's armor and slice his neck.

  Landing a lucky hit while the Orc was distracted by the Ghoststep's afterimage, the Ironmaw Skirmisher let out a gargled roar before tumbling forward and crashing onto the ground with a metallic thud.

  You have killed an opponent.

  Experience split between [Hexreaver Slime] and [Human] form.

  "No level up," Xen muttered. He couldn't even devour the corpse to harvest it for skills or biomass, as he could feel the gazes of multiple people lurking in nearby buildings, and he knew their exact positions via Geomantic Perception.

  Not all were lying in wait; some were fighting.

  He looked over his shoulder and saw Randy, Valoria, and Vesper working together to kite and kill an Ironmaw Skirmisher. Since they were injured, they had to rely on Valoria to parry its brutal attacks while Randy pelted it from above with mana arrows and Vesper perched in a windowsill, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

  Every time the Ironmaw Skirmisher tried to strike Valoria with its full force, a mana arrow would hit it in the eye or knee, forcing it to dodge or block. It roared in frustration, which spelled its doom. Vesper jumped down and drove a dagger into its neck, much like Xen had done, though far less gracefully, as when he landed, he staggered due to his hurt leg.

  It was almost sad to watch as the Orc fought until its last breath in service to the great dungeon, only to be teamed up on by three injured humans and killed in such a humiliating way.

  "There's no honor in that," Xen said, clicking his tongue.

  He recalled the days when he'd been nothing but a tiny slime. Back then, the battles between the humans and the wolf packs on the first floor had seemed like ferocious contests. The humans usually triumphed, but fools still died in brutal ways, caking the dungeon's walls in blood. That had been Xen's whole world, and he'd truly believed the monsters had a chance to carry out the dungeon's will—to keep the humans out.

  Yet here, on the fifth floor, the monsters were carefully controlled and culled on a schedule. The level thirty-plus Orc that Randy and his friends just killed would have been a floor boss on the first floor, a godly being to the level one Mind Slime he had been a few days ago.

  Xen didn't know why, but it made him angry.

  The worst part was that he knew the Orc was aware of its situation.

  Xen had been intelligent from birth, but these Orcs were no lesser. They had a language, could build cities, and were capable of forging weapons and armor. They could think and reason—yet the dungeon compelled them to carry out their duty, to wage a pointless war against humans who saw them as nothing more than walking bags of experience to be farmed like animals.

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  I could have turned out like this, Xen thought. If I had been born on this floor into one of these camps, I would have had my death predetermined by some suited human from the Guild Association. Never given a chance to grow into what I have become.

  The sound of shouting drew his attention. In the distance, he spotted a group of Iron Legion humans surrounding two Ironmaw Skirmishers, hauling weighted nets woven from metal wire. One of them baited the Orcs into charging by pretending to cast a spell, and the moment the Orcs grew angry and rushed forward, the humans flung a net over them and captured them.

  Xen couldn't believe it, but he had just witnessed something even more horrifying than having ones death predetermined.

  A flash of light pulled his gaze down another street. There, he saw the smoldering remains of an Orc that had tried to leave through the entrance. The executioner hadn't been a human Hunter, but a dark metal turret mounted on a nearby building—similar to the one that had been on the Transporter earlier. Its barrel was still red-hot as it slowly pivoted away in search of its next target.

  Xen felt deeply disgusted by everything he was seeing.

  Woven from the dungeon's mana, the monsters have no choice but to fight to the death. The least the humans could do is honor their desire for battle with a fair fight. This... this is just wrong. Xen began to seethe behind his stolen mask. I want to, no, I need to put an end to this somehow. Can more monsters be freed from the dungeon's control by joining the human class system like I did? None of them deserves this fate.

  "Gerald?" Randy called from behind, making Xen turn. "Are you alright?"

  "Yeah… I'm fine," Xen replied curtly as he bent and yanked his shortsword free from the dead Orc's neck. He didn't look at the body again. "Let's move on. I don't want to kill these Orcs anymore."

  Randy traded a confused glance with his companions, then nodded. "Okay, sure. We can only kill ten of them anyway, and they aren't that high level."

  Xen's jaw tightened. Battles were meant to be fought to the end, until one side stood triumphant. The very idea of having a quota for how many Orcs should be killed on a regular basis was sickening to him.

  Possibly sensing his souring mood, Randy held his tongue.

  "I know the way to the northern area," Vesper said, taking command of the situation. "Follow me."

  Xen fell into line, and the group moved through the Orc encampment in silence. Walking past the Iron Legion group, he saw the fate of the Orcs. They were tightly bound while still alive and were being loaded into the back of one of those Transporters.

  "Why," he began, but his voice broke a little. "Er—why are they doing that?" Xen asked, pointing to the scene.

  "Huh?" Randy followed his finger and realized. "Ah, they are likely moving those Orcs to another area to bolster the local population to prevent a boss spawn."

  "Don't the Orc clans hate one another?" Xen asked. Monsters also fought one another, though it was far rarer, as their primary goal was to keep the humans out.

  "Yeah," Randy nodded. "But the Orcs are killed daily, so once fresh Orcs in that area spawn, they can mark these two to be eliminated."

  Xen fell silent once again and was left with his thoughts as they trudged through the encampment. Despite the number of Orcs in the area, unless they sought out battle, they weren't bothered. The Orcs simply went about their routines, moving between shabby buildings and forges.

  "Why don't they attack us?" Xen asked, as he eyed the Orcs curiously.

  As always, Randy had an answer. "The Ironmaw Orc variant is what we call a crafter type of monster. Rather than attacking one by one, they possess enough intellect to understand the value of numbers and weapons in war. As you can see, they have proficiency in the manufacture of weapons and armor, and they won't attack until a boss-type variant spawns with the capabilities to command them."

  "So that's why they are so eager to keep the population at a range that will prevent a boss mob from spawning," Xen said, slowly understanding a little of the humans' thinking. It was all still dishonorable and barbaric to him, but there was some logic to the madness.

  "There's actually another reason we keep them alive," Randy said, and gestured to a nearby forge that was billowing smoke. Outside, a sign with the Ether Technocrats logo was posted. "The Orcs will keep endlessly producing weapons until a leader arrives. This forge has been marked as owned by the Ether Technocrats, meaning they will raid this place every week or so and forcefully seize all the weapons they have produced to sell to low-ranked Hunters."

  "That's..." Xen trailed off. How did it keep getting worse?

  "The exit's up head," Vesper pointed out, and Xen saw another smoldering Orc corpse lying one step beyond the border.

  Now he understood why only a single human from the Guild Association was needed to guard the entrance. With turrets surrounding the encampment, no Orc was getting in and out.

  "Are there turrets like that on other floors?" Xen asked.

  "Uh? Oh, those turrets?" Randy realized what he was referring to once he noticed the corpse. "They are usually found on floors with teleportation hubs or near mines. Each shot they unleash consumes an entire mana crystal, so they are terribly inefficient and struggle against many types of monsters."

  Xen paused and looked at the turret. He then realized he had many ways to take it out without issue, such as blasting it with Corruption Missiles or unleashing a Cataclysm to topple the building it was perched upon.

  "The monsters can win," he muttered.

  "Did you say something, Gerald?" Randy said, looking at him oddly.

  Xen didn't reply as they stepped past the burned Orc corpse and left the Ironmaw encampment for the northern teleportation hub.

  to read ahead!