Chapter 10: We Serve the Living. And the Dead. Mostly the Dead

Chapter 10: We Serve the Living. And the Dead. Mostly the Dead Karl, however, was delighted as he walked towards the main hall. His internal map glowed with a new, vibrant hue. Now that the dungeon has visitors, its mana will be refilled! Excellent. This is a passive income stream. I should put an inn where monsters can stay and go, as well as a merchandise store. The possibilities multiplied in his mind. He sighed, a dry, thoughtful sound. For now, I should find a way to make them stay longer. Food, perhaps? He quickly opened the structures list and tapped "Canteen." He planned to use the specialized Chef. He initially found a location opposite the Metallurgy Center, but then changed his mind, dragging the outline to a spot near the entrance, easily accessible by visitors. He placed the canteen outline; it was wide and long enough for a proper mess hall. The builders, already efficient, quickly got to work. The sounds of hammers and saws filled the air as they laid out the foundations. Karl bought the necessary tools and prerequisites (pots, woks, fireplace, etc.), spending 110 NP. With the Canteen in construction, Karl bought another structure from the shop: [ Slaughterhouse ] (Cost: 150 NP). He confirmed the purchase and quickly placed the outline beside the room where the Inn would eventually be, near the Canteen’s general area. He bought its prerequisites, spending another 140 NP. With the Slaughterhouse outline in queue, he bought another: [ Tannery ] (Cost: 150 NP). He placed its outline next to the Slaughterhouse’s room, adding another queue for the builders, and bought its prerequisites and necessary tools from the shop. Finally, he placed [ Workshop of Bone & Cloth ] next to the Metallurgy Center’s room, completing his initial expansion plans. His NP balance was now half again, but his vision was taking shape, a complex web of production and profit. Two hours later, a chime announced: [ Canteen has finished construction. +20 NP ] Karl immediately reassigned the specialized Chef minion to the Canteen. Its bony frame moved with a newfound purpose as it surveyed the newly built kitchen. He summoned 2 more basic skeletons as assistants, their clatter adding to the growing symphony of industry. He then summoned another 2 basic skeletons, bought 2 hunting bows and arrows from the shop, and assigned them to hunt wildlife in the forest. I never saw these new faces as refugees, but rather customers, Karl thought, a subtle, dry smile on his skull. Didn’t expect anyone would stumble upon the dungeon so soon. A notification appeared, a small ping in his mind. [ Minion Chef reported no seasonings and ordered chef assistant 1 to gather in the forest. ] Karl’s smile widened. At least now, I won’t have to hassle himself with micromanagement. Good initiative. Another 2 hours later, a chime. [ Slaughterhouse has finished construction +20 NP ] Perfect timing. The 2 hunters arrived, dragging 6 plump rabbits behind them, their bony hands stained with dark fur. The Chef’s assistant also returned, carrying a small, unfamiliar pouch that smelled faintly of earth and strange herbs. Unknown seasonings? Karl thought, a flicker of apprehension. This could be interesting. Or disastrous. He summoned another 2 basic skeletons and assigned them to the Slaughterhouse. Thirty minutes later, a delicious, savory aroma began to waft from the Canteen, filling the air with the promise of warmth and sustenance. The Chef, with surprising speed and precision, had already prepared a rabbit stew. Karl walked to where the refugees were huddled. He stood at the doorway, his imposing height filling the frame, but he kept his distance, not wanting to make them uneasy with his presence. Orkesh, ever cautious, approached him. "Mr. Karl, how may I help you?" Orkesh asked, his voice still a little strained, his eyes darting nervously. Karl smiled, a gesture that was still more unsettling than comforting. "We have prepared you a meal. You all must be famished. But of course, you can taste it, if it suits your liking." He led Orkesh to the Canteen, just opposite their room. The aroma was indeed mouth-watering, rich and savory, a comforting scent in the cold stone dungeon. Who would’ve thought an undead could cook better than him? Orkesh mused, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. The Chef, a Level 10 skeleton, nodded proudly, placing a steaming bowl of stew at the counter. One of the child refugees, a small kobold with wide, curious eyes, smelled the aroma. Without a second thought, it darted past Orkesh, grabbed a bowl, and tasted it. Orkesh was about to stop her, a panicked yelp on his lips, until the child’s eyes lit up. "Tasty!" she cried out, her small voice echoing in the stone hall, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy. The Chef’s skull seemed to puff out with pride, its bony chest expanding slightly. Karl’s dry smile widened. "Mr. Orkesh, please call the others. Make yourselves at home. I will leave you to your meal." Karl stepped away, easing their fear of his presence, allowing the other kobolds to cautiously approach the counter, drawn by the irresistible scent of food. Another 2 hours later, as the dungeon’s perpetual twilight deepened, the hunters returned again, this time with a doe and a buck slung over their bony shoulders. Karl whistled, a dry, clicking sound. These guys are precisely ruthless. Good work. Meanwhile, in a certain room, the clatter of wood and a frustrated groan echoed. The artisan skeleton, having lost to the Strategist 60 times already, slammed its bony fist down, flipping the chessboard in a fit of pique. Pieces scattered across the stone floor. The Strategist, its skull tilted, seemed to mock him, a faint, almost imperceptible hum emanating from its frame. The Artisan’s skull snapped towards the broken board, then towards Karl, still visible in the distance. Its bony frame trembled, a clear sign of fear. What would their master do if he found out the board was broken? In a flurry of panicked movements, the Artisan skeleton darted away, its bony feet clattering as it rushed to the Distribution Center for materials. It returned just 5 minutes later with a new, perfectly carved chessboard, its movements hurried, a dry sigh escaping it as it set the pieces with frantic precision. Karl, observing the artisan’s hurried movements thought he didn’t see him sneak away to the Distribution Center for materials, just smiled. Ah, the creative temperament. Always so... volatile. The thought lingered, a new layer of personality revealed in his increasingly sentient undead workforce. The quiet room hummed with the soft clack of wooden pieces. Karl, the Arch Lich, sat across from the Strategist skeleton, his empty eye sockets fixed on the chessboard. The Strategist, now a Level 5, moved with a calculated precision that belied its skeletal form. Three games, the Strategist lost, its bony fingers hesitating, then making a move that seemed to concede. Then, the tide turned. Five games, it won, each victory a testament to its evolving intellect, its moves growing bolder, more intricate. Karl chuckled, a dry, rattling sound that vibrated through his own bone structure. He reached across the board and patted the skeleton’s bony shoulder. "Improving, aren’t we? Good. A worthy opponent is hard to find, even among the living." From the doorway, Karl caught a fleeting movement. The artisan skeleton, its head tilted, quickly pulled back, disappearing from view like a shadow. Hm. Curious. Perhaps it’s learning by observation? Or just bored. The thought was fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the strategic depths of the game.