Livelihood Dungeon! (English Version)

A day later,

Peter returned early to his Livelihood Dungeon.

And for what reason?

Simply for this—

...

Dungeon Points: 1,100

Livelihood Points: 308,920

Master Points: 1,350

...

He earned 30,000 LP from the oats, hay, and wheat he had planted.

The amount of LP he received was far lower than he had expected, especially considering the size of his harvest.

"It's a bit of a letdown," he thought.

However, the disappointment in Peter's heart quickly faded.

After all, in a way, it was practically free since he hadn't spent any LP. Though he did spend a few Terragon coins on several seeds, the value of points was far more important to him right now than the currency of the Kingdom of Terragon.

"But I guess this is still good enough. At least I discovered another feature of the Livelihood Dungeon—I can import seeds from the outside, plant them here, and unlock them within the system," Peter contentedly convinced himself.

What amazed him the most was that the 30,000 Livelihood Points he obtained were distributed evenly—10,000 points from each of the three crops.

Following Peach's instructions, he harvested the crops carefully by cutting and uprooting them.

For the time being, he stored everything inside his Crop Storage after the harvest.

Peter's eyes then focused on his Livelihood Points.

...

Livelihood Points: 308,920

...

"Hmm..." The owner of the Livelihood Dungeon fell into deep thought.

Peter tapped at the air several times. Moments later, several packets of seeds suddenly appeared above his outstretched palm.

...

Hay Seeds ×12

Oat Seeds ×12

Wheat Seeds ×12

...

After the appraisal was shown to him—

"Expensive! There are way too few seeds inside," Peter complained with a frown as he looked at the contents of the three seed packets.

The dungeon master's frustration was understandable.

Judging by the amount of harvest compared to the number of seeds, they really were expensive—especially when compared to the corn he had harvested before.

"This is extortion, Livelihood Dungeon!" Peter growled angrily at the empty air.

Yet his actions completely contradicted his complaint.

He pressed at the air several more times.

Again and again.

One by one, packets of purchased seeds fell onto the ground from his dungeon shop.

There were already far too many for him to hold in his arms alone.

Even while busy shopping, Peter remained visibly displeased. With every packet that emerged from the mysterious shop, his expression only worsened.

He couldn't do anything about it. Even if it felt like extortion, he still had to buy them.

They were a necessity.

Aside from being used as chicken feed, corn also serves another important purpose in the form of corn grits. It can act as an alternative to rice—the staple food commonly eaten by Filipinos, especially among marginalized sectors in the southern parts of the Philippines.

However, even if it could replace rice, he still prefer rice.

During the early years of the 21st century, the global guideline for balanced nutrition changed. The food pyramid widely used during the late 20th century was replaced by a more modern guide called MyPlate.

The newer guideline placed greater emphasis on fruits and vegetables. Even so, grains still remained a major part of the human diet.

And since wheat and oats belonged to that category, Peter had no choice but to grow them because of their importance.

"Well played, Livelihood Dungeon. Well played!" the unique dungeon master bitterly remarked.

"You're extorting me without even saying a word. I thought we were allies, but you're just like the rest of them. Another traitor in this exploitative world," he joked while laughing so hard he nearly cried.

Soon after, Peter busied himself plowing and planting.

Several hours passed before he finally finished planting—but that was only the beginning of the next step.

There was something he wanted to try.

What was it?

Planting trees.

He had no difficulty choosing what kind to plant—not with Peach's help. Besides, he had no reason to doubt his trustworthy dungeon guide, who had never once given him bad advice.

"Peach!" he called.

"How may I serve you, my master? Tehehe~" she replied cheerfully.

"How many seed packets do I need to buy if I want to plant a hundred banana trees?" Peter asked.

"Nine packets if you're okay with going slightly over a hundred. But personally, I recommend ten packets," Peach answered happily.

"Why ten if nine is already enough?" Peter questioned.

"There's no special reason, master, tehehe! It just looks nicer when the number ends in zero. Each packet contains twelve seeds, after all. That means ten packets would give you one hundred twenty seeds, while nine would only give you one hundred eight," Peach explained shyly while covering her mouth.

"In that case, I only need nine packets," Peter said.

Yet he bought ten packets anyway. Just like Peach, he found numbers ending in zero more pleasing to both the eyes and the mind.

He began digging in the northeastern section of his Livelihood Dungeon—near the Master's Lodge, Magical Fountain of Life, Gristmill, Crop Storage, and Livelihood Storage—precisely where his lone banana tree stood.

He used it as a guide. Each hole was spaced five feet apart. Carefully, he placed each seed into the ground, followed by fertilizer, before covering them with soil and watering them.

It was already noon by the time he finished planting one hundred nineteen banana seeds.

He set aside one remaining seed along with a single packet of fertilizer.

Just as he had said earlier, he wanted the number of his possessions to end in zero whenever possible. Since he already had one banana tree, planting one hundred nineteen more would bring the total to exactly one hundred twenty.

...

Crops!

Name | Price | Season/s

Hay | 50 | Spring-Winter

Oat | 50 | Spring-Autumn

Wheat | 50 | Spring-Autumn

...

Fertilizers!

Grade | Price

Basic | 10

Intermediate | 50

Advance | 100

...

Earlier, he had purchased one thousand packets each of oat, hay, and wheat seeds.

In total, he spent 50,000 Livelihood Points on every set of one thousand packets for oats, hay, and wheat.

Altogether, he spent a total of 150,000 LP on the three types of seeds.

...

Just like the adjustments he made for the new batch of corn, Peter decided to use basic-grade fertilizers instead of advanced-grade ones.

As with the corn, he used a 1:1 ratio—one packet of basic-grade fertilizer for every packet of hay, oat, and wheat seeds.

In total, he used 30,000 LP for the basic-grade fertilizers.

Meanwhile, he spent 1,500 LP for each packet of banana tree seeds.

He purchased twelve packets of banana seeds, reducing his total points by 18,000 LP.

As for the fertilizers used on the bananas, he chose to use the highest grade available—the advanced grade.

Each packet of advanced-grade fertilizer cost 100 LP.

This time, he no longer used a 1:1 ratio per pack. Instead, he followed a one-to-one ratio of one fertilizer packet for every single seed.

He did this under Peach's guidance.

According to the dungeon guide, it was the ideal ratio for achieving better banana tree growth.

Furthermore, if one packet of advanced-grade fertilizer was used for each individual tree seed, the trees would develop an incredibly sturdy foundation.

These trees would be able to adapt to any kind of weather and would not easily die even under extreme conditions.

Because of this, the trees inside the dungeon would become resilient and extremely difficult to damage.

It would also help ensure abundant and continuous fruit production.

And so, Peter thought—who was he to refuse such a promise of prosperity?

No sensible person would casually reject advice that good.

120×100=12,000

...

150,000 LP — (oat/hay/wheat seeds)

30,000 LP — (basic-grade fertilizers)

18,000 LP — (banana seeds)

12,000 LP — (advanced-grade fertilizers)

150,000+30,000+18,000+12,000=210,000

In total, he spent 210,000 Livelihood Points on planting in just half a day.

...

Dungeon Points: 1,100

Livelihood Points: 68,920

Master Points: 1,350

...

From 278,920 LP down to 68,920 LP.

Peter felt a sharp pang in his chest the moment he saw his current number of points.

"It's okay! It's okay!" he repeatedly shouted as he tried to convince himself.

Although it hurt, he was certain that something far greater awaited him in return.

Those 210,000 Livelihood Points were his investment, and Peter was now eagerly—and restlessly—waiting for a much bigger return on investment.

...

Peter was now inside Old John's tavern after spending the entire day gardening. He seriously faced the business partner seated across from him at the simple wooden dining table owned by the tavern keeper.

"What was so important that you had to postpone telling me about it?" Peter asked as an opening. He was genuinely curious, especially since the man had looked extremely cautious and hesitant when he first approached him in the village yesterday.

Peter's companion frowned. He first glanced around nervously, as though afraid someone might overhear them, before finally turning toward the man claiming to be a merchant from the east.

Peter couldn't help but smile.

The man was being overly dramatic.

There was no one else inside the tavern aside from Old John and a few hired bodyguards belonging to his business partner. Yet the man still looked absurdly nervous.

Suddenly, his companion leaned forward and brought his face close to Peter's ear.

"I have a product that you'll definitely like, Peter," he whispered confidently.

"Go on. I'm listening, Thomas," Peter replied calmly. He tried not to look too excited, and judging by the peddler's reaction, it seemed effective.

Thomas let out a sigh before finally explaining his purpose clearly and directly.

"I remembered what you told me the last time you visited," he began. "Didn't you ask me to search for rare livestock? Something that could potentially be useful for farming or animal husbandry, right?"

"Oh? He's talking about that," Peter thought with amusement.

He merely smiled faintly without replying.

Thomas was correct—but only halfway.

Peter really was planning to establish a large ranch, though not in the way Thomas imagined.

There was no need for him to explain everything.

Thomas noticed Peter's reaction and immediately adjusted. He decided to get straight to the point.

"What I brought for you today is an extraordinary breed of chicken," he said with emphasis. "A kind highly sought after by aristocrats and adventurers throughout this kingdom."

"What's so special about it?" Peter asked.

"Eating the eggs laid by this chicken gives even an ordinary person a chance to become a spiritician," Thomas explained excitedly.

Peter merely stared at him without reacting.

"Aren't you even surprised?" Thomas nearly complained. "This is an opportunity to completely change someone's fate!"

"It's not that," Peter replied calmly. "What exactly is a spiritician?"

Thomas pressed a hand against his forehead. He had forgotten that Peter wasn't from the Kingdom of Terragon.

"Spiriticians are people capable of manipulating and expanding their spirit beyond their bodies. Their power can manifest in different forms and elemental attributes."

"So they're basically magicians," Peter thought.

"May I see the chickens?" he asked.

Thomas smiled. "Of course. But there's one condition."

"I'm listening."

"Whether you buy them or not, promise me that you'll keep it a secret that I possess this kind of chicken."

"From everyone?" Peter asked.

"From everyone."

Peter nodded.

That was the signal Thomas needed.

He raised his hand, and the two bodyguards stationed behind him immediately stepped outside.

Peter didn't ask questions anymore. It was obvious that this matter truly needed to remain hidden.

A short while later, the two returned carrying a cage.

Peter frowned when he noticed their clothing—thick layers of garments despite the fact that the environment wasn't cold at all.

Weird.

Still, he chose not to dwell on it.

The moment the cover was removed, two chickens shimmering under the light were revealed.

"Beautiful," Peter whispered.

At that instant, he already knew—

He had to obtain them.

"I'll buy them. Name your price."

Thomas' tone immediately changed. He became more cautious and respectful.

"One hundred gold coins... per chicken," he said carefully.

"Two hundred gold..." Peter muttered while frowning.

"I know you probably don't have that amount right now," Thomas quickly added. "But there are other ways to pay. You can use Regeneration Potions or enter a spirit contract."

"Spirit contract?" Peter asked.

"A document authenticated by spiriticians. Once signed by both parties, it becomes binding. And there are penalties for violating it."

Peter paused briefly.

"Alright. Let's begin."

Thomas became worried. "Are you sure? The penalties depend on the severity of the breach."

"Yes."

...

Peter excitedly stepped out of the tavern, carrying the covered cage containing his new pair of chicken.

He cheerfully nodded at the two adventurers serving as Thomas' escorts. The two men were guarding the wagon of their merchant employer.

Practically skipping with excitement, Peter walked toward the outskirts of the village. Because of his happiness, however, he became careless. At one point, a strong gust of wind slightly lifted the cloth covering the chickens' cage.

Peter immediately looked around to make sure no one had seen it. He let out a sigh of relief after noticing that only the two adventurers had seemingly caught sight of the incident. Quickly, he fixed the cloth and made certain it wouldn't be blown away again.

What Peter, the Livelihood Dungeon master—and everyone inside the tavern, who had just left—did not know was that there was a man who had accidentally witnessed that small incident.

He had caught a glimpse of the shimmering pair of chickens.

He was certain of it—they were no ordinary birds.

They were valuable.

Rare.

The man happened to be one of the subordinates of the lord of the Village of the Beginnings.

"Lord Boris needs to hear about this," he said with a grin, already excited about the possible reward.

He originally intended to follow Peter and discover where he planned to take the chickens, but he hesitated after noticing the presence of the two adventurers guarding Thomas' wagon.

In the end, he decided to turn back and head toward his lord's mansion instead.

...

"Are you really sure about what you did, Thomas?"

The peddler glanced toward the source of the voice behind him.

"What's there to worry about, Liam?" Thomas replied.

"Are you not afraid you might end up losing out on that contract?" said the man seriously—a lean yet muscular adventurer who served as one of his escorts.

"The contract you made with that foreign merchant is way too light. What if he runs off with your chickens? You know how hard it is to obtain Frosty Chickens—especially a pair like that."

Liam's tone carried both concern and protest.

"You're still an overthinker, Liam," Thomas laughed. "You won't enjoy life if you keep thinking like that."

The adventurer frowned.

"I just don't like ignoring potential exploitation," he replied. "I know you, Thomas. I know you can convince anyone, but that doesn't mean everyone is trustworthy."

He took a deep breath.

"I think you shouldn't have let that kind of deal go so easily."

"Besides," he added, "you know who controls creatures like Frosty Chickens. It's the Royal Family. They hold a monopoly over them. So my question is—how did you even get those?"

A brief silence followed.

Liam scratched his beard.

"I'm sure you paid a heavy price for them."

The female adventurer beside them nodded quietly, observing everything without interrupting.

"You're really harsh on people," she said calmly.

"This isn't just suspicion," Liam replied. "It's principle. And Thomas is my childhood friend, which is exactly why I'm even more concerned."

The woman smiled faintly, a hint of admiration in her expression.

She liked Liam—not because of his looks, but because of his refusal to abandon his principles, especially when it came to his friends.

Their group, The Harbor of Surging Rocks, was known in the Seaham Guild as one of the most stable and reliable adventurer parties.

High completion rate. Steady. Unwavering.

And Liam was its foundation.

He wasn't the most eye-catching, nor the most talented in the eyes of others—but he was the kind of person who would never leave his place unless the situation demanded it.

"I was born here, and I'll die here," he often said.

To the people of the port town, Liam was as valuable as rare minerals—not because of brilliance or shine like other gifted adventurers, but because of the stability his dependable presence provided.

And for over two decades, their adventurer party had remained one of Seaham's pillars of safety.

...

Howl!

Stab!

Bleed!

Cry!

Whimper!

Shwing!

"Wipe," Boris ordered coldly, the lord of the Village of Beginnings.

A servant hurriedly handed him a white cloth.

Carefully, Boris wiped the stain from his face. Afterward, he lifted the now reddened handkerchief between his thumb and index finger, the rest of his fingers held delicately in the air with an almost theatrical elegance.

Without a word, he released it.

The servant caught it with utmost care.

At the same time, another servant struggled under the weight of a still-warm wolf corpse from the hunt. A hole pierced its forehead, its eyes still wide open—like it couldn't believe how it had died.

Boris continued walking, completely unfazed by the servants laboring behind him under his equipment.

He was currently hunting in a small forest owned by him behind the mansion.

"Lord Boris! Lord Boris!"

He stopped and turned, frowning.

"Make sure you have a good reason for interrupting my hunt," he said coldly. "If not, I'll use you as bait."

The man turned pale.

"P-please forgive me!"

"What do you want?" Boris barked.

"I saw something... something I believe you will be very pleased with."

"Speak."

"I saw a pair of chickens... glowing, the color of a clear blue sky."

Boris' eyes widened.

He stared heavily at the man.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes... I am certain."

Boris suddenly laughed.

"Excellent."

"Your name is Rogue, correct?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord."

"Tell me everything."

Rogue recounted everything—from Peter leaving Old John's tavern, to the glimpse of the glowing chickens, and the merchant who likely owned them.

Boris listened in silence.

When the report ended, Felipe—his knight—nodded slightly.

"State your request," Boris said to Rogue.

"A better life for my family... and a position in your militia."

Boris smiled.

"Good. You know when to seize an opportunity."

Rogue left.

Boris turned to Felipe.

"Congratulations, my lord," the knight said.

"Too early," Boris replied calmly, though a grin tugged at his lips.

"We don't have the Frosty Chickens yet."

His gaze sharpened.

"Once I get those... I'll make sure Thomas falls."

"What's your plan, my lord?" Felipe asked.

"Not Thomas yet. He's still too dangerous," Boris said. "We go after the chickens first."

His grin widened.

"Once I have them... we'll build our own spiritician corps. You will lead it."

Felipe nodded.

"We will also sell the eggs to aristocrats. We'll use their greed to control them in the future."

"If you succeed, my lord... you will return to aristocratic standing," Felipe added.

"I never fell," Boris replied.

Roar!

Wolf beasts suddenly lunged from the forest.

But before Boris could even move, Felipe acted.

Stab. Stab. Stab.

Three swift strikes.

The wolves dropped instantly.

Boris remained standing, still holding his spear halfway raised.

"He really is showing how easy it is," he muttered with a grin.

And at that moment, he remembered his past with Felipe.

...

"Good day, Lord Boris."

A panicked passerby bowed as he greeted the younger Boris.

He didn't even look back. His gaze remained straight ahead as he walked forward, accompanied by an elegant, middle-aged man who followed closely behind him. The man seemed accustomed to serving and always ready to obey his master's orders.

Those who noticed the young Boris—plump yet clearly aristocratic—instantly froze in place before quickly stepping aside, as though a disaster were approaching.

Boris grinned, arrogant and full of contempt.

He strode directly toward a large table inside the House of Luck, followed by his attendant.

Upon arrival, Boris raised a hand. His servant immediately understood.

The middle-aged man stepped forward and without hesitation pushed aside the clustered patrons around the table. Despite his age, he was overwhelmingly strong—almost tireless.

The crowd was about to complain, but the moment they saw who he was with, they immediately fell silent.

They knew him. More importantly, they knew the one he served.

This was not someone to be trifled with—the son of the landowner of the gambling house, whose father was also the lord of the entire Earldom of Derby.

No one dared to resist.

"Welcome back to the House of Luck, Lord Boris Wild," the dealer greeted.

Boris smirked, clearly enjoying the attention.

"Will you be placing a bet, Lord Boris?" the dealer asked.

Boris glanced around the table before answering firmly—

"OF COURSE."

He was about to place his bet when a sudden commotion erupted from the next table.

Frowning, he turned his gaze.

A disheveled man was arguing with the dealer.

"Just lend it to me... I'll pay you back once I win," the man pleaded.

"That's not possible anymore, Fernando. We've already given you too many chances," the dealer replied calmly.

"Just one more... last time," the gambler insisted.

But the dealer shook his head.

Boris let out a quiet chuckle.

Then—

Bang!

Fernando flipped the table.

Coins and dice scattered through the air. The crowd staggered backward.

Chaos erupted instantly.

"Beat him up!"

The shout spread like wildfire across the gambling hall.

The House of Luck was not just a gambling den—it was also a massive tavern. Compared to Old John's small establishment, this place was enormous: wider, louder, more chaotic.

But this was normal.

Many of its patrons were desperate gamblers—people always standing at the edge of ruin.

And in a place like this... chaos was part of the system.

Soon enough, the disturbance ended.

Fernando was beaten and thrown out.

The gambling hall returned to normal as if nothing had happened.

"Apologies for the disturbance, Lord Boris," the dealer said.

"Let's begin," Boris replied.

The dealer placed three dice on the table.

And so the game began—

House of Luck.

...

"Good job, Elric. Unlike some people—those who only know how to waste their time in gambling houses and spend money recklessly. They're useless in managing our domain."

The speaker paused, shook her head, and scoffed with clear disdain.

"How shameful. It's a good thing they'll be gone soon. What a waste of the family's money on their indulgence."

"Could you stop that, Tatiana?" a calm, smiling man interjected. "We rarely get to see each other as siblings."

He was Elric Wild, the third child and eldest son of Earl Larkin Wild—the designated heir to the title of Earl of Derby.

The girl speaking was their youngest sibling, Tatiana. She was only ten years old, but as an aristocrat, she had already been exposed early to political and social matters.

Boris remained silent. He had no desire to respond to the subtle jabs.

Because the day he feared had finally arrived.

Their father's retirement—and the official transfer of the title to Elric.

According to aristocratic tradition, once a successor was chosen, the male siblings were required to leave the territory to prevent any possible rebellion against the new lord's rule.

Boris had never once considered taking the position. He knew Elric was far superior. So he quietly accepted his fate and made the most of his luxurious life.

Still, a heavy feeling weighed on him as he walked back to his room. In his mind, he tried to figure out what he would do next after leaving.

Fortunately, his father was not cruel. Even though he had accomplished nothing meaningful, he still received a generous allowance.

But during the banquet itself, they were also given the final portion of their support as departing children of the territory.

It was also there that he learned of his personal retainer's decision—to remain in service under their father instead.

So when he left, he would be alone.

Boris's expression darkened.

Everything felt unbearably heavy.

So he decided to think about it tomorrow instead.

...

The next day, Boris left their estate. He wandered aimlessly, hoping to find some kind of solution to his situation.

He walked for several minutes before a commotion caught his attention.

At the center of the disturbance, he saw a boy—about the same age as his sister Tatiana.

Around him, several grown men lay collapsed on the ground.

Boris smiled.

His interest deepened even further when he heard the surrounding crowd talking.

"That poor Felipe... his mother died from overwork. His father was then arrested for gambling debts. Now they're trying to sell him into slavery."

Soon after, the guards of the earldom arrived and began arresting those involved in the disturbance.

They were about to take the boy—Felipe—along with them.

"Wait."

Boris raised his hand.

The guards froze upon recognizing him.

"Yes, Lord Boris."

They immediately released the boy and left.

"Thank you," Felipe said coldly before turning away.

"Hey. Wait!" Boris grabbed his clothing.

"Let go of me!" the boy snapped angrily.

"Where are you going?" Boris asked seriously. "You belong to me."

"I don't belong to anyone!"

Boris smiled faintly, almost teasing.

"If you don't come with me, you know where you'll end up. With people who will sell your life for coin."

Felipe fell silent.

"Do you want to end up like your useless father?" Boris continued.

"Don't you want revenge?"

"You know I'm the son of Earl Larkin. I can help you."

A brief silence.

"...Follow me if you agree."

Boris brought Felipe back to the mansion.

There, he revealed his plan.

He opened a large chest.

Inside was a blinding amount of gold.

Felipe gasped.

"You're not like what everyone thinks," he said calmly.

"From the very beginning, I already knew what my fate would be."

Boris packed his belongings one by one.

"I won't wait to be discarded by my brother."

"I also won't fight him."

He paused.

"I'll carve my own path."

As dawn approached, Boris quietly left the territory of Earl of Derby—together with Felipe.

...