“As weak as possible, using the inorganic recipe?”
“That’s right. Basically, we need weak mimics.”
“I see...” The monster maker was puzzled—it had never thought such a thing would be expected of it.
However, work was work, so it got moving. It used the leftover scraps of spirits that would not be of any use by themselves, mixing them together randomly with the intent of making inorganic monsters.
The first run produced the following monsters: a golem, a mimic, a gargoyle, a slime, a mimic, an iron ant, a metal monkey, a mimic, a golem, and a bronze crab.
Mimics were coming out as planned with a decently high probability. Since they were all low-leveled, though, they wouldn’t count for much no matter how many there were.
The monster maker had complicated feelings over this latest run. “I kind of feel sorry for them, being born just to hold loot.”
“I, um... Well, I can’t do anything about that.”
“What’s even sadder are these non-mimic monsters...”
Those that weren’t mimics were even less useful—essentially, they were just weak cannon fodder. At best, they could serve on the first underground floor, but there weren’t any vacancies left. Instead, they were disposed of before they ever woke up, and their spirits were returned to storage.
Once there were enough mimics, Marinnie called her subordinate arachnae.
“Okaaay! We don’t have much time, so let’s work fast! I need these mimics packed with items!”
“Got it, sis!”
The juvenile arachnae took the items that had been prepared beforehand and started working.
“Big sis, there aren’t enough items!”
“Huh? Really?” Marinnie responded. We can’t just have these mimics carrying nothing, she thought, so she continued, “Then just put in whatever, I don’t care.”
She and the other arachnae had managed to prepare the full list of rare items Lord Aldora had requested thanks to her spending spree, but it seemed there were too many mimics.
“Hmmm, what should we do...?”
“Ah, how about this? I just picked it up the other day!”
“What? What is it?”
“Dunno! An adventurer dropped it!”
“Should we really put it in?”
“Sure! I don’t need it; it’s not very cute.”
“Then this one can be a booby prize!”
“Yeah! A booby prize!”
The juvenile arachnae were having a lot of fun chatting as they stuffed a mimic with 10G in copper coins.
“Oh well, I guess it’s fine to have at least one with nothing worthwhile in it. That one’ll go on the first floor.”
With their items stored, the mimics were sent to their respective waiting rooms on their floors.
“Okay then...”
Marinnie had finally finished with one hour left until the start of the season.
From here on out, the monsters would have to be carried to their assigned positions, and she would have to update the placement sheet published to the adventurers.
It was still up in the air whether or not they would make it in time for the start of the season.
(Season 389, the first day...)
“Heya, it’s Marinnie! I’ll be doing this announcement in Lord Aldora’s stead: Season 389 starts nooowww! Let’s all work hard to murder all those adventurers!” After finishing the start-of-season announcement, Marinnie finally breathed a sigh of relief. She was currently in the mid-boss’s waiting room, located in the dungeon’s maintenance area. “I’m gonna be pretty free for a while...”
Almost all of a dungeon administrator’s job was in the initial planning phase of a season. There were some dungeons which allowed changes and micromanaging during the season, but that wasn’t the case for the Aldora Labyrinth.
Though the labyrinth had tested out different formats in the past, management had learned that almost everything depended on the initial placement of monsters. That was why they settled on giving the monsters their freedom during the season.
As Marinnie spaced out, a group of small arachnae gathered around her. “Hey, big sis! If you’re free, play with us!”
Infants like them were born from monsters classified as pure-strains. The monster maker was great at easily producing disposable pawns, but that was it. The ruling class had always been populated by ancient clans of pure-strains.
“Only for a bit, okay?”
If an emergency popped up, Marinnie would probably have to handle it personally. The season had just started, though, and she couldn’t imagine anything very serious would happen right away.
Nothing special happened that first day...at least, from her point of view. The reality was that a simple monster that had been meant to be nothing more than a box to store junk in had obtained a certain item, and was now in the process of wreaking havoc.
Not that Marinnie had any way of knowing that.
(Season 389, the second day...)
“Oh nooo, I’ve been slaaaiiin...” Marinnie fell.
She was in the midst of her job as the mid-boss of the tenth floor. Of course, no administrator could afford to be killed off every single time—the adventurers had simply defeated a shadow which shared the arachne’s consciousness.
There were pros and cons to the method. Naturally, the shadow was weaker than the original, and it could only be created within the confines of the dungeon. It was simple to construct, though, and only needed souls to make. That meant there wasn’t much lost upon its death.
“The second day’s going well too,” Marinnie whispered to herself as her consciousness returned to the maintenance area.
“Big sis, there’s a summons from the council for you!” An infantile arachne came to share its news with her.
“What? Now?”
It was only a few hours until the close of the second day; it should’ve already been nighttime up at the surface.
Although Marinnie considered it a major hassle, she decided to heed the summons anyway. The relationship between adventurers and dungeons was one of give-and-take, so she couldn’t afford to refuse them outright.
“Bring me my clothes.”
Marinnie went around naked in the dungeon, but that would cause problems in a human town.
“Okaaay!” The small arachne left. A swarm of them came back with a set of clothing.
“So jealous... I want clothes too...”
“Clothes are just a major pain, though. They’re so constricting.”
Once she’d finished putting on her clothes—a dress with a wide back, reminiscent of a bustle, and rigid wiring to cover her spider half—Marinnie left through the dungeon’s back door.