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For Nagas: How to Survive Your Dungeon! (BL)

Author: doravg
LGBT+
Completed · 38K Views
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Synopsis

Updates @ 13:00 (+8 GMT) Naga can be many things. Yet, none had ever been a dungeon core. Chavu is one, after two hundred years of service to the old one, which was smashed as he napped in his pond cavern. Marcellus greets him with a bloody sandal, yet, Chavu has never felt too much fear of anything. Well, maybe of flutes, but that is a perfectly reasonable fear. Together with a gnomic colony, and a prince who doesn’t quite know what he is doing, Chavu will take up the system, or, the snappy auntie, as he calls her, on her challenge. Does he have what it takes to survive as a dungeon core? Will he rake in a profit? This is a journey of a dungeon core, who doesn't play by the rules!

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Chapter 1Chapter 1: The dungeon core is cracked, now what?

Chavu the Naga stared at the pedestal where the dungeon core that he had contract with had once stood. There were three crystal marbles where there had once only a single, spherical, crystal had stood.

"Oh, the one time I take a nap..." Chavu gripped his head with both hands and tugged at his long, chestnut, hair. "How did the adventurers get in the core room? There are the spikes, pits, spikes, tar, spikes...oh."

Chavu, the boss monster of the Still Pond dungeon, realized the mistake of the now dead dungeon core. The dungeon core had placed numerous wooden spikes, and not much else. He racked his brain for something that could have kept the adventurers out. He blinked.

 It was just him.

"Now, I am jobless," Chavu lamented. He had been the pride of his tribe. Only twenty and already with a dungeon contract. A real over achiever. Normal Nagas were content to just go in a random cave and wait for the travelers to wander in to rob them blind.

Not Chavu.

 He had wanted to belong, to have a purpose. Granted, he had been drunk when he had made the contract, but, surely, the dungeon must have offered him something?

The health insurance... was nonexistent. It was a health hazard working around so many sharpened sticks. He knew that he could get rabies from them, during his daily inspections, one of these days.

Ok, so, there were no health benefits, but the company was... lacking. The dungeon core did not create any mobs for Chavu to mingle with. Chavu bit his lower lip, careful not to inject himself with his own poison. It was not going to kill him, but it was going to cause him the mother of all stomachaches.

No health insurance, no coworkers. But the workday was flexible. That he could not argue with. Chavu had taken more than one nap during the time he should have been working. Which was most of the time.

"What are the chances that the dungeon core wrote in my worker's profile that I took naps on the clock?" Chavu went to the pedestal and took one of the crystal pieces.

It was nice of the adventurers to leave them behind. There was no worse smudge on one's worker profile than being left with not even the parts of the dungeon core you were defending.

Chavu poured some mana into the crystal, and a screen appeared.

"System, how long do you have before you kick the bucket?" Chavu asked. He had never liked the system. She was the type of woman who he liked to call a "snappy auntie with a sandal".

<I am eternal, you lice for brains!> The system snapped. <Something feels wrong.>

"The dungeon core is gone. Cracked, splintered, smashed. An end of an era, I know. But such is life," Chavu watched as text began to switch back and forth. Different fonts, different word sizes. Even different colors.

It was all a blur.

<You lazy snail, how many times do I have to tell you not take naps in the damn pond?> That was written in bold, red, letters. Chavu rubbed the back of his head.

"I made a mistake, I admit," he began. Suddenly, the small screen expanded, and he saw something like a contract. "System?"

<Click the yes,> this was written in italic and had a smiley face next to it. Chavu began reading the text, but it was filled with legal jargon he couldn't make any heads or tails out of.

"No," Chavu said simply. He turned his back to the pedestal and began slithering towards the exit. The dungeon had been mediocre.

Just a D ranked one. Yet, as first jobs went, it was good enough for his autobiography. He had heard that the volcano dungeon was hiring. Perhaps he could...

<Click the yes, or I will fire up special defenses of dungeon against you,> there was no smiley face this time, and the letters were in bold and red so dark it reminded Chavu of dried blood.

He gulped.

"What secret defenses? Can the spikes grow legs, or something?" Chavu joked.

<You are not the only boss mob,> was the simple reply. This time, there was a smiley face, with fangs pocking out of its mouth and some blood dripping from them.

"There is a vampire here?" Chavu sputtered. He had not expected that. Not even in a million years. Shouldn't mister doom and gloom find another, more prestigious, dungeon to call home? And why hadn't Chavu seen any bloodsuckers until now? "You are bluffing."

<I will write in your worker profile that you sleep on the job, talk back to system, and, drum rolls please,> drumming sounds began to echo in the core room. To Chavu, they sounded like a declaration of war. <I will take away your <em>retirement funds!>

"Now, wait a second," Chavu waved a finger at the screen. He had worked hard for those funds. A whole of two hundred years! "The mob union will rip you a new one!"

<If you don't click yes, I will die in half an hour. suffocate, my nonexistent lungs demand mana. am a system, Chavu. can't produce That is why need you, useless lumps!!!!>

The text confused Chavu. How was he supposed to tell what the system was feeling from italic, a green frowny face, and four exclamation marks?

"You have lived long enough," Chavu told the system without a shred of mercy. They had never liked each other. He knew that it was going to throw him under the wagon to save itself anyway.

<Just click the yes, I am begging you here,> the simple black letters were a rarity. The system used red, exclusively, when she spoke with him.

"What will happen if I do?" Chavu could feel a strong mana signature, stronger than his own, make its way towards the core room. The system was going to end him, one way or the other.

<You get to live for another two hundred and twenty years, at least. So do I. Come now, being a dungeon core is not that bad,> the words were a cheerful yellow and in italic, but Chavu was not fooled.

 He looked to the door, where a man stood, a two-handed sword in his hands and a smirk on his lips.

The other boss mob?

Well, Chavu was a manager, not a fighter. The only thing he had going for him was his poison. Useless against a vampire of such a level, he knew.

With a sigh, Chavu pressed the yes. Light enveloped him, and his imprisonment to the dungeon grounds began.

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