Chapter 6: New Home!

Chapter 6: New Home! His Creation skill was now D-Rank, which felt significantly more impressive than the pathetic E-Rank he’d started with. He had 100 Creation Points (CP) to spend, and they were burning a hole in his metaphysical pocket. He first inspected his Domain itself. The app classified it as Small Urban Apartment (Rank F). He walked to his front door, the one leading out into the hallway of the apartment building. He turned the knob. It didn’t budge. He put his shoulder into it. BOOM! He drew back his fist, channeling that same E-Rank Body power that had annihilated his interior wall. The air shrieked and a small sonic boom cracked around his knuckles as he punched. CRACK! A visible shockwave, a white ripple in space, exploded from his fist. Instead of the door splintering, however, the force slammed into an invisible barrier. The shockwave blasted back at him, throwing him across the room. He landed in a heap, his arm numb and ringing. The door was unscratched. The cheap brass numbers ’302’ didn’t even wiggle. "Okay," he wheezed from the floor. "So, the outside is reinforced by the hand of God himself, but my interior walls are made of wet paper. Got it." He tried the window. Same result. He was sealed in. His apartment wasn’t just his base; it was his cage. The world outside, the familiar streets of Aethelburg, might as well have been a painting. He could see it, but he could not touch it. The buildings across the street, his neighbor’s windows...they were all inaccessible objects, part of the scenery. He opened the Creation tab. The options were... underwhelming. [Create Monster: Slime (Cost: 1 CP)] [Create Monster: Goblin (Cost: 5 CP)] [Create Trap: Pitfall (Cost: 10 DP)] [Create Trap: Tripwire (Cost: 5 DP)] He could spend his 100 CP to make twenty more goblins, or a hundred slimes. It was a start, but it felt inefficient. His apartment, even with the new hole in the wall, was still just a one-bedroom apartment. There was nowhere to put them all. It would be less of a dungeon and more of a dangerously overcrowded frat party. Then he saw it. At the bottom of the Creation menu, there was a different kind of option. It wasn’t for a monster or a trap. It was bigger. A large, ornate button labeled: [Domain Template: Basic Dungeon Pack] [Cost: 100 CP] [Description: A one-time purchase that transforms your existing Domain into a standardized, multi-room dungeon environment. Includes pre-set facilities, monster spawn points, and increases potential for future expansion. A perfect starter kit for the ambitious Demon King on a budget!] It was an all-or-nothing gamble. It would cost every single one of his Creation Points. "On a budget" was right. "A starter kit," Ragnar muttered. "Am I a Demon King or am I assembling IKEA furniture?" He thought about it for all of five seconds. His current setup was a deathtrap, but mostly for himself due to tripping hazards and poor hygiene. He needed an upgrade. He needed a proper dungeon. He took a deep breath, stood in the center of his living room, and pressed the button. BOOOOM! A foundational, earth-shattering tremor ripped through the apartment. The ground beneath his feet buckled and dropped away, not into the apartment below, but into a swirling abyss of black and red energy. The air itself screamed as it was stretched and warped by impossible forces. A violent shockwave of pure creation energy blasted outwards from the center of the room, vaporizing his cheap coffee table and turning his peeling gaming chair into a fine gray dust. The walls dissolved into a shrieking mist. The ceiling vanished, replaced by a swirling vortex of raw chaos. It felt like the entire building, the entire sector of the city, was being folded in on itself like a piece of cosmic origami, with him at the dead center. He was tossed through the non-space, his body weightless, the roars of creation deafening him. Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. The silence was absolute. Ragnar found himself standing on a floor of cold, roughly hewn stone. He looked up. The ceiling was high, at least fifteen feet, made of the same dark stone, with glowing purple crystals embedded in it providing a dim, ominous light. His living room was gone. In its place was a vast, circular chamber at least fifty feet across. At the far end, on a raised stone platform, sat a new throne. It was carved from black obsidian, jagged and imposing, looking ten times more uncomfortable and a hundred times more impressive than his old gaming chair. This was the Throne Room. His one-bedroom apartment was gone. In its place was a sprawling, multi-level dungeon. Gary the kobold let out a terrified whimper and hid behind Ragnar’s leg. The other monsters were looking around, their dumbfounded expressions mirroring his own. "Whoa," Ragnar breathed, his voice resonating in the cavernous space. He pulled out his phone. The app showed a new map of his Domain. It was no longer a simple rectangle. It was a complex layout of rooms and corridors. Throne Room, Antechamber, Barracks, Mess Hall. It had even created a small, dank cave designated as the Slime Pool. His kitchen was still there, now accessible through a heavy iron door behind the throne, labeled as the Demon King’s Quarters. His freezer and its precious cargo were safe. He began to explore his new, palatial death trap. The air was cool and smelled of damp earth and ozone. The corridors were tight, perfect for ambushes. The rooms were empty, blank canvases waiting for him to fill them with horrors. Then he found a peculiar room near the dungeon’s new entrance. Unlike the rest of the place, which looked like it was designed by a depressed goth, this room was clean. The stone was smooth, and in the center, a small fountain bubbled with softly glowing water. The air felt calm, peaceful. It was completely out of place. His phone buzzed. A tooltip appeared on the map. [Facility: Rest Area (F-Rank)] [Description: A designated safe zone for invaders. Monsters cannot enter. The fountain provides minor healing and stamina recovery to members of the Law and Neutral factions. Having this facility active increases your maximum Domain Points (DP) by +50.] Ragnar stared at the fountain, then back at the phone. A slow, predatory grin spread across his face. "Oh, you clever bastards," he said with a chuckle. "You absolute geniuses." It wasn’t just a safe room for the heroes. It was a trade. He was giving the enemy a place to catch their breath, a small island of safety in his sea of death. And in exchange, he got more DP...more points to spend on a bigger sea and bigger sharks. It was a system of checks and balances. He wasn’t just building a fortress to keep people out; he was designing a deadly game to lure them in. He had to make it challenging, but not impossible. He had to give them hope, right before he ripped it away. "This changes everything," he said, his eyes gleaming in the dim, magical light of his new home. He was no longer just a guy trying to survive in his apartment. He was a Dungeon Master. A Game Designer. A god of his own little stone-and-traps universe. "Alright, listen up!" he roared, his voice booming through the new corridors. His minions, who had been cautiously sniffing the new walls, snapped to attention. "Forget the old apartment! This is our new home! It’s bigger, it’s spookier, and it has terrible resale value! But it’s ours! Follow current novels on freeweb(n)ovel.co(m)