Chapter 249
Chapter 249: In This Town, My Cards Are the Best!
Hearing Viktor's words, everyone fell into a moment of wistful daydreaming.
Like the students, they found themselves drawn into the world of this Dungeon.
No one could impose on anyone else—every person could become the protagonist of their own story within the Dungeon world.
They truly could communicate with the illusory people inside the Dungeon and experience all manner of different lives.
For those present, it was something they had only ever dreamed of.
"What freedom means—that is what I'm about to show you next."
At that moment, Viktor snapped his fingers.
The world around them shifted once more, drawing everyone into a brand new scene.
A street materialized out of the space, and a new student stepped into a shop on one side of it.
From the Family Crest and attire on his person, he was evidently the young scion of a noble household.
"That's… the young master of the Traus Family, isn't it."
Someone among the crowd recognized the child and murmured it aloud.
A Traus Family parent watched their child's performance with a heart full of anticipation.
But as time passed, their hopes were thoroughly dashed—their child's behavior left them with nothing but shame.
A crash-bang-clatter of smashing and slamming rang out from inside the shop. Then, all while hollering a string of incoherent, high-pitched nonsense, the arrogant young master was physically thrown out of the shop.
The Traus Family adult, watching their child get tossed out, went scarlet in the face on the spot. Cold sweat broke out on their forehead, and they thought inwardly:
Oh no—this brat's been pampered rotten. Please, not something embarrassing in front of everyone—
Every parent in the area was watching. It was a public execution in the truest sense.
But what was coming would come regardless.
The young master hauled himself up from the ground with some difficulty, mumbling incoherently, his mouth moving as though chewing on something.
"You lot—how dare you make me dine and dash!"
2 Demi-human shop attendants tossed the lavishly dressed young master out onto the street and regarded him with contempt.
The young master swallowed the hunk of steak still in his mouth, wiped the greasy sweat from his forehead, stood up and brushed the dust from himself, then bared his teeth at the shop and yelled back:
"So what if I ate without paying—it's not like I wasn't going to pay!"
"I already said—once I get home, whatever you want, you'll get it!"
He grew more worked up with every word, his mouth spraying bits of chewed meat from the sheer force of his excitement.
"Besides—you're all just Demi-humans. What right do you have to take money from me!"
Several Cat-girl attendants looked at him with open disdain, then turned and went back into the shop. Bang—the door slammed shut and the closed sign was hung up.
The young master, who had long since abandoned any pretense of dignity, completely ignored the passersby around him and continued launching a verbal assault on the shut door.
What he didn't know was that his father was standing right beside him, face flushed a deep, mortified red.
"Please excuse this spectacle, everyone."
Snubbed and shut out, the young master's fury had nowhere to go. He began throwing punches and kicks at the shop door.
An elderly woman slowly approached him, a kindly smile on her face, and said:
"Young man, could you help carry this sack of flour back to my home?"
"I'll give you fair compensation in return."
The other onlookers immediately perked up with interest.
They had more or less figured it out by now.
This looked exactly like the kind of quest encounter the Princess had experienced earlier—something designed to guide students into taking action in this fantastical world, so they wouldn't simply wander around aimlessly without purpose.
The elderly woman looked up at the Traus Family young master with a face full of kind expectation, her eyes brimming with gentle hope.
"I'm too old for this—my back and legs just can't manage something so heavy anymore."
Normally, for a young man in the prime of his health, something like this would be no different from lifting a finger.
But then—they had all witnessed firsthand the Traus young master's deplorable attitude just moments ago.
And so the onlookers watched with equal anticipation.
Faced with a quest encounter like this—what would he actually choose to do?
True to form, the young master did not disappoint them.
He raised an eyebrow and looked down at the elderly woman with disdain.
"You? You want me to carry things for you?"
"Do you have any idea who I am? Since when has a noble ever helped a commoner with anything!?"
He stared at the elderly woman—who now wore a look of pained difficulty—with his nose in the air. Then he gave a dismissive snort, flicked his hand, and walked away.
At the sight of this, every adult in the crowd burst out laughing.
The head of the Traus Family had gone so red in the face they looked ready to dig a hole in the ground and disappear into it:
"That little brat is getting a proper talking-to the moment we get home!"
Principal Rashel had watched the entire scene from start to finish.
The brow that had been furrowed before now gradually relaxed.
He understood.
Within this Dungeon world, it was possible to see clearly who a person truly was—their genuine character, laid bare under conditions of complete freedom.
Morality was not the foundation upon which one became a Mage.
But within the Mage Council, morality was the most essential standard.
After all, a Mage's power was far too great. If a person lacked the character necessary to keep that power in check—
Then there was every possibility they would end up like that Dark Archmage, losing themselves entirely, sealed away in the City of Mages—Endymion.
The true purpose of morality was to ensure that even a Mage who acquired tremendous power would never, because of that power, lose their own heart.
Never mind Viktor—he was a special case.
The significance of the Dungeon was immense. Its contribution to the world would not be lesser than the invention of the Magic luminescent lamp.
Through the invention of the Dungeon alone, Viktor already had more than enough to establish his footing within the Mage Council.
Even setting aside his combat strength entirely—this one invention was sufficient to earn him a permanent seat there.
By this point, the Traus young master was still aimlessly wandering the streets.
Almost as though anticipating it, Viktor continued:
"In this world, you are truly free—you can do whatever you please."
"You could lift someone's skirt at any moment."
The Traus young master, walking down the road, ogled the young women passing by him with a lecherous leer on his face.
Then, with a sly snicker, he grabbed and flipped up the skirt of a woman standing nearby.
The crowd erupted in a wave of startled cries.
"You could even commit robbery."
The Traus young master barged into a grocery shop, scooped up an armful of various fruits and snacks, and bolted.
The Elf shopkeeper watched the stranger disappear into the distance, and could only call after him with a soft, indignant voice from far away:
"You little—! Don't let me see you around here again!"
Viktor's voice hadn't stopped.
"You could even sit down on a park bench, stare blankly up at the sky out of sheer boredom, and start daydreaming."
"That's right—in this place, benches are for sitting on."
The Traus young master plopped himself down on a park bench and shoveled every stolen morsel of food into his mouth in one go, then lay back across the bench, crossed his legs, and stared up at the sky in a daze.
"What even is this place…"
Not far away, his father stood watching with a face darkened with suppressed fury.
Every single prediction had come true to the letter.
At that moment, Viktor gave a gentle wave of his hand. The street gradually blurred, and everything around them became dreamlike and hazy.
The space broke apart piece by piece, the fragments floating up around them, forming countless separate frames.
Within those frames, each one corresponded to a different new student taking part in the examination.
They could see every student's activity.
Some might be relieving themselves in a flower garden. Others might be helping someone chase down a dog or corner a chicken.
1 student had been stopped by a weeping woman in tears.
The distraught woman explained to him that her child had been seized by criminals, and begged him to help rescue her.
But the student simply pushed up his glasses, reached into his pocket, and produced a deck of playing cards, casually proposing to the woman:
"How about a round of cards?"
The woman blinked, frozen in place. Her tears stopped cold. Then she lit up and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up:
"Sure! I happen to be the best card player in town!"
And with that, the 2 of them sat down on the spot, right there on the ground, and began a face-to-face card game.
"…"
This was entirely too free.
Everything here was as though divided into 1 distinct world after another, each person inhabiting their own separate space within it.
It was as though every person had been placed alone in their own independent world.
Many of the parents and press reporters found themselves envying these new students—able to play freely to their hearts' content in this novel Dungeon world.
Indeed—for the adults present, this examination was nothing short of a playground.
Real life was already exhausting enough. If a world of complete freedom existed as a place to while away one's time—that might genuinely be something worth having.
Viktor snapped his fingers once more, pulling everyone's attention back to him:
"The new students' examination will be allowed to continue on its own. For now—it's time for us to experience something else."
The images around them shifted once more. The entire town began to fracture in an instant.
Then the shards of rubble, in a strange and wondrous way, began pulling back together and reassembling themselves in midair.
A massive, awe-inspiring colosseum materialized suddenly before everyone's eyes.
Without anyone knowing when it had happened, they were seated in the audience stands of the colosseum, looking down at the arena floor below.
Even they themselves couldn't say at what point they had become spectators.
Viktor stood at the center, looking out at the tattered banners flapping in the wind and the scorching dust swirling endlessly around him—yet he seemed entirely untouched by it all.
Both hands in his pockets, his expression perfectly calm.
A wave of uncertainty stirred among the crowd.
What was Viktor about to do?
At that moment, the sky was swallowed by a dense wall of stormclouds, lightning crackling and flashing rapidly between them.
A roaring gale tore into furious circulation at the center of the colosseum, whipping up a torrent of blazing sand and searing heat.
A deep, resonant roar carried down from above the clouds to every pair of ears in the arena. The violent surging air and the overwhelming presence it carried bore down on every person present with crushing pressure.
A colossal blue form tore through the crackling, snapping lightning—flashes of blue igniting again and again between the dark stormclouds, streaking across like meteors crossing the sky.
The enormous dragon horns were the first to break through the clouds, thunderbolts reverberating endlessly around them, the charge spreading out into the surrounding air.
Sparks of lightning scattered in every direction, as though the very air itself was resonating in response.
And then—the Storm Dragon King emerged in full above the colosseum, its presence silencing the entire arena.
Rashel's eyes went wide with shock as he stared up at the immense creature overhead, his face a mask of utter disbelief.
Wasn't that the Storm Dragon King—the one that had died at Viktor's hands? How was it here?
Every person in the arena had their eyes wide open, staring at Viktor standing at the center of the colosseum, their faces filled with astonishment.
Viktor's black Coat whipped and billowed wildly in the gale, like a spectre dancing through the dark of night.
All around him, several blinding Magic Formations suddenly blazed to life, intricate Runes flickering ceaselessly around their perimeters, complex patterns weaving and linking between the Formations.
Even without contact, the Magic Power emanating from them was enough to send a chill down one's spine.
The Formations spread outward in rings like corridors of wind, layer after layer—then a single beam of light cut through them all, linking directly to Viktor's body.
"Now," Viktor's voice rang out across the entire colosseum.
"The show begins."