1 Warden Is A Transmigrator

Some days, you just, you know... get this good feeling?

The feeling of fire flowing through your veins. A kind of invigoration that invades your bloodstream and makes you feel like you could take on the world.

Well, today was not one of these days.

"You fucking bastard, come here and let me kill you!"

An enraged roar echoed throughout the alleyways, reminding Dayna to pick up the pace as he scampered away from his attacker.

His legs ached from his ongoing escape, and Dayna was positive he would have more than a few bruises should he live to see tomorrow.

"System, any help here?"

Dayna felt like crying, but he had no tears.

When he saw the hitman request on the System interface, he had tried to put it off for as long as possible.

Alas, his arduously cultivated skills as a procrastinator had no effect against the System.

In his past life, he could barely even come out the winner against a fluffy poodle. How the heck was he supposed to fight a veteran criminal?

Dayna had once dreamed of being a transmigrator. Well, he got his wish.

So here he was, in a 10km by 10km space-time isolation chamber, getting his ass thoroughly whooped by a bulky man who was probably the reincarnation of a rhinoceros.

[Dear Host, the target is only a first circle sinner. If you can't even handle this, I'm sure I can find better 😊]

Dayna cursed under his breath.

What hunting down criminals? His System was clearly the real scoundrel! It's a ploy!

Dayna curbed a corner and rushed towards a loading zone for a well-off department store in the shopping district.

It had a lot of crates that had yet to be unpacked, providing plenty of visual obstructions.

Even though it was just a 10km cubic area, the city of Vance had lots of winding alleyways and terrain he could make the most of when shaking off pursuers. That was the only reason his risky headhunting hadn't yet ended with a Dayna-shaped blood splatter on the alley walls.

It was night, and the shadows and darkness were on his side.

The space-time isolation spell had removed Dayna and the man from the current dimension. They were in a pocket space without any other life. Just them and the frozen in time scenery.

"One hour until midnight. This one hour will determine my fate."

Ducking behind a load of cargo boxes, Dayna swiftly planned his next actions.

Even an idiot could tell he wasn't going to be able to overpower all-brawn no-brains down the street head-on.

He needed a strategy.

Unfortunately, no amount of adrenaline could account for the fact he was a sheltered twenty-first-century teenager. The only strategy he was familiar with was raiding strategies from his favourite RPG's.

Even according to the System, he had no special qualifications to become a host other than his high-quality soul.

"I just have to knock him unconscious, right?"

He had no confidence in being able to kill the man, but unconsciousness was different. Even a moment of unconsciousness could count as a victory.

[That's correct! It's really not that hard!]

Dayna grit his teeth and held out his palms. Focusing his mind, he followed the instructions given by the System during the debrief, a long loop of chains formed in his hands.

It was the only weapon the System gave him to help win against a bonafide fantasy warrior.

No matter how many grievances Dayna had, the System had made it very clear what its position was on the matter.

My way or the highway.

The 'highway', in this case, was the endless void, a particular environment Dayna had no intention of going anywhere near.

"Come out you little street rat."

Dayna spared a few peeks from behind the cargo boxes. Stalking the loading zone was a large man with a scar across his chin, looking every bit the menacing villain he was.

His brows were knitted tightly together as he squinted in the darkness, trying to spot Dayna.

"Heh. He looks a bit like a bulldog."

He was dressed in typical trousers and a tunic with the sleeves rolled up, the standard attire for commoners, Dayna included.

But the similarities ended there.

Dayna was a lean male with the bare minimum muscle definition to pass as an athletic youth. The other man looked like he was drugged up on the Alterra world's equivalent of steroids.

Fortunately, he was only a level one mage, and could barely cast a basic strength-enhancing spell.

"Oh, who am I kidding? He looks stronger than me to begin with, much less tacking on a strength spell! I might as well just prepare for afterlife season two."

[I believe in you, host! Fight on!]

Dayna bit his lip to quell his nerves, and for sake of not ceasing to exist, he started to shift himself into an attacking stance. Treading lightly, he skirted around the crates so that the man's back was exposed to him.

Looking at the chains in his hand, he couldn't help but feel doubtful.

How did this even work? A makeshift lasso? Maybe a whip?

[A Dungeon Warden's weapon, even one of the first level, is never an easy opponent. The chains have a level one Auto-binding enchantment.]

Despite having the System's reassurance, Dayna couldn't help but feel uneasy.

Looking at the small countdown in the corner of the ever-present System interface, Dayna knew it was now or never. Otherwise, he would be kicking the bucket for the second time in a week.

This time, it would be for good.

In the words of the System, who can be bothered to keep an incompetent employee around?

For the sake of survival, he was willing to set aside any fears and moral obligations.

If he succeeded, he would damn a soul, albeit a guilty one, to eternal torture. On the other hand, if he failed, he was dead meat. Dayna wasn't one to fence-sit when it came to important matters, and he took less than ten seconds to reach a decision.

Between his humanity and his life, he would choose his life 100% of the time.

"Selfish? Maybe. A coward? Definitely. But who cares what people call me, so long as they can't call me dead?"

He gave another quick glance at the System Interface. He tapped lightly on the [Hit List] option, opening the man's profile.

The Hit List was the function provided by the System to help Dayna with his hunting. It covered a 25km radius and the targets were all shown on a sonar-like screen as red dots. He could scroll through the list and pick a target.

It was like online shopping for murderers.

Before, the profile was mostly blank, but now it had some information.

[Name: ???

Photo:

Spells: Basic Strength Enhancement

Combat Style: Slow and cumbersome, favouring brute force and hand to hand brawling. Heavy damage but easy to out-maneuver.]

"I can just treat it like a raid Boss. A slow-moving heavy DPS boss with a low mobility rating."

So then, if he was a player, how would he attack this Boss?

He would strike at a weak point with the aim of incapacitation rather than suppression.

Once the Boss was dazed, he would rapid-fire a combo attack to get in as much damage as possible within the available time frame.

From then on, it would come down to luck. Hopefully, the chains' auto-binding had a strong enough effect.

"I really should have paid more attention in gym class."

Lamenting his truancy in his past life, Dayna took a deep breath in preparation.

Dayna then rushed out from behind the boxes, holding the chain in both of his hands with a bit of slack in between.

Even though the man was burlier, Dayna has been given a buff to his general abilities as a sort of welcome package by the System. He was convinced it was because even the System realized his modern-world body wouldn't hold up in a fantasy setting.

Whatever the System's intentions, Dayna was certainly thankful at this given moment in time.

Looping the chains around the man's neck, Dayna planted a firm kick into his lower back, yanking with his arms at the same time.

The man's head lurched backward, and he lost his center of balance.

When the man fell to the ground, Dayna dropped the chains and began ruthlessly pummelling the man with the heel of his foot. He struck the face and chin in the hopes he could knock the man out.

The man groaned and seemed disorientated. Dayna took the opportunity to land as many hits as he could.

"You're supposed to aim for the windpipe, right?"

Dayna was naturally very far from a combat expert, but he had a rich experience in TV Shows and web novels.

All things considered, the windpipe seemed like a good option.

The man gave a strangled cry as Dayna drove his boot down on his throat.

The man finally regained his bearings and lifted an arm in retaliation. His scarred face was contorted in rage, and if glares could kill, Dayna would already have a date with the Grim Reaper.

However, it seemed the System was a bit more reliable than Dayna believed. The chains Dayna has previously dropped began to coil and restrain the man.

Every time the man tried to move or raise his hand, the chains would tug him back into place.

"I'll kill you!"

He thrashed wildly in a vain attempt to free himself, driving his magic to the max. However, not even his strength enhancement could break through the chains. Dayna's chains continued to wrap around his body, tying him up like a strange cocoon.

The chains had no mercy, and he eventually lost even his room to wriggle. He collapsed immobile on the cobblestones, his mouth gagged by chains.

"How does the saying go? Strike when the iron's hot?"

Dayna picked up a nearby crate with a bit of effort and slammed it down on the man's head.

Even for a muscle head, the weight of the crate was enough to do him in. His eyes rolled back, and his head drooped to the side. He stopped resisting the coiling chains.

[Congrats, host, on your first Dungeon capture!]

The cobblestone began to shift and squirm, giving way as a large sinkhole appeared from out of nowhere.

From the depths of the pit, large chains spewed forth. They grasped onto the man's limbs and dragged him down like an octopus entangling its prey. The man fell clunkily into the hole, and the opening snapped shut.

"Were the over the top special effects really necessary?"

Dayna huffed, before wiping the sweat off his brow.

Nevertheless, he would give the System five stars for its aesthetic cut-scenes. Very pleasing to his visual senses.

"That turned out a lot better than I thought it would. I was half expecting to end up a bloodied lump of flesh."

Still, most of it came down to the aid of the chains.

Dayna could tell that even if the System had some rather questionable methods, when it came down to it, it had no good reason to let Dayna fail. The System-Host relationship was a symbiotic one. It relied on him to do its dirty work, and in turn, Dayna could receive boons from the System.

Those were the words he received when he first bound with the Dungeon Warden System:

[Perform your duties as the host, and the System will support you and your personal endeavours.]

If he didn't cooperate, Dayna had no doubt the System would replace him. Even though his soul type was rare, it meant nothing if he couldn't fulfill the System's needs.

He may not be expendable, but that didn't mean the System would keep around defective goods.

Instead of mindlessly stressing about the nature of his current role, he should instead prioritize the rational use of the System's resources for his own gain.

The System was a cash cow waiting to be exploited, and he wasn't one for feigning restraint or shame.

His past life was so boring. Now, he was thrust into a new and exciting world with limitless possibilities.

What's the harm in getting his hands a little dirty?

It was a prime opportunity to use a higher being with immense power and versatility to achieve his goals in life. Why should he squander it over some meaningless issues like equal standing?

That would be wasteful, and Dayna didn't believe in wasting good things.

[Host, since you've made your first capture, you now have a Dungeon prisoner. You have unlocked a first circle cell, as well as the first level of the Warden's authority.]

[Host: Dayna

Level: One

Points: 1000

Prisoners: 1

Cells: 1

Functions: Hit List, Create Dungeon, Create Monster, Create NPC, Create Loot]

Even though he was expecting it, Dayna couldn't help but light a candle for the man dragged into the pits of hell. From now on, his life would consist exclusively of daily torment.

Dayna, in the seven days he had been a transmigrator, had already been roughly briefed on the roles and responsibilities of a Dungeon Warden.

A Dungeon Warden was the person in charge of a Dungeon, a prison for the Damned.

Damned were human beings whose minds had become so corrupt that there was no hope for salvation. They were villains that would never be able to be reformed. They ranged from first circle to ninth circle sinners.

The man that just got turned into Dungeon fertilizer was a serial rapist and violent assaulter.

"He mainly hung out around the slums, so law enforcement never caught onto him. Vance City doesn't have a high average magic level, so this guy was able to become a small tyrant."

Now, he was fuel for the dungeon.

Each prisoner was placed into a cell – a dungeon instance. Their soul would be torn up and reconfigured into the content of the dungeon instance.

In other words, they would physically become the raw materials needed for the dungeon.

For crimes against society, they would be forced to give back to society with their own soul as the price.

However, even in their new dungeon form, they'd retain all of their sensory abilities. Any pain inflicted on mobs and the environment would become excruciating torture for them. They would continue to suffer every time Players came in to clear their cell.

"They're basically a human punching bag for my Players to vent on."

Moreover, their hate, rage, frustration, and regret could be harvested as points by the Dungeon Warden and used to upgrade his System functions or the content of the dungeon itself.

"It's a vicious cycle, and one I wouldn't have anything to do with if I had the choice. However, I don't have the choice, so call it your bad luck."

Dayna shrugged and effectively shirked off any moral responsibility.

"The more sinners I capture, the more materials I have to build dungeons. The System has no need for material wealth, so I can charge whatever I want from the Players. Essentially, so long as it's within reason, the System will leave Financial Management and Human Resources to me."

Every week, the System would provide him with a hit list of targets in the vicinity.

Dayna would have to select a target, and by the end of the week, either kill them or knock them unconscious in order to drag their souls into a cell.

The better he performed, the more he could cash in from the System.

"Even I have to admit, despite the high standard of work the System will demand in the future, the rewards are pretty lucrative."

If you put it nicely, Dayna was tasked with the noble job of removing human scum.

If you put it crudely, he was the operator of a System-designed human juice blender made to squeeze every ounce of usefulness from a catalogue of unfortunate victims.

For someone like Dayna, he had no qualms with working with the System, even if it equated to what was essentially servitude. He was naturally selfish and protected his own interests, and those interests lined up nicely with the System.

Only if working with the System became a job worse than the concept of oblivion would Dayna even consider discontinuing the System-Host contract.

Until then, he would just treat it like standard employment and workplace labor.

[Host, please prepare for the collapse of the isolation chamber.]