Whether Balak screamed from the red potion or not.
Thanks to the highly successful planned dungeon renewal, Laiter was able to welcome a massive influx of tourists and passersby.
But!!!
"Kyaaaaak!!"
"Wh-what's wrong with that guy?!"
"I heard he's supposed to be an adventurer...?"
"Ugh, these days adventurers are all like this, and so are the other races. The city's turning into a freak show..."
The adventurers and other races were causing public order to spiral completely out of control!
The reason they were losing their minds was, of course, the dungeon!
Heroes were indomitable beings, so they were exceptions from the start. Even their companions had spirits comparable to the heroes.
Even if they died endlessly in the dungeon, they only ended up curling up like pill bugs from lost confidence.
But adventurers were just ordinary people!
Ordinary people with swords, no less!
Without the immense mental fortitude of heroes or their companions, every death shook their minds with fear and terror.
Plus, the original dungeon—thanks to Balak's "consideration"—killed instantly without pain, which was at least merciful.
But in the mini-dungeons, they burned to death by various elemental spirits, sliced apart, electrocuted, and met gruesome ends.
That led to so many snapping completely.
The other races were grappling with the same issue.
"Are you alright?"
"Huh... huuugh..."
"Sister, this elf sister needs a lot more time alone, it seems."
"N-No..."
Dwarves and elves originated from fae beings transformed in the mortal realm.
Meaning they lived far longer than humans—who croaked at 50-80—and could survive over a thousand years.
For them, the concept and experience of 'death' brought terror on a whole different level from humans.
What if such beings died pointlessly, unluckily, or absurdly in Balak's dungeon?
"I-I wanna go back! Send me home!"
"No... don't wanna die..."
"Waaaaaah!!!"
"Alco— I need booze!! Please!! Booze!"
Young dwarves or elves from the investigation teams experiencing death could suffer total mental breakdowns in an instant—serious problems indeed.
Even the leaders of the joint investigation teams were starting to crack under the fear of death.
Should they abandon the dungeon survey they'd paid humans a fortune for?
—That thought was creeping in.
But...
"We can't retreat from here—for the future of our races."
"""......"""
During the Great War, elves had treated their lifelong spirit companions not as partners, but as weapons.
They completely lost the spirits' trust.
Worse, their world trees in elven lands burned to ash. Elves could no longer encounter spirits in the mortal realm.
Infuriated spirit kings severed contracts with existing elf spiritists—bonds forged before the war.
The elves' strongest force, the spiritists, vanished in a flash.
The title "spiritist" seemed headed for the history books.
But that dungeon overflowed with spirits they could actually talk to.
It was a chance to mend old grudges and reunite with them!
Elves had heard from humans that Balak was renovating the dungeon.
And that boss Balak had summoned so many spirits inside?
They believed Balak held the key to bringing spirits back to their lands.
Meanwhile, the dwarves who came to Laiter with the elves were an artisan race whose society revolved around apprenticeships.
But they lived disgustingly long lives like elves, were arrogant by nature, and stubborn as hell!
In simple terms, dwarves refused to teach apprentices their lifelines—the skills honed from master artisans over lifetimes—until they died.
In an information age, tech manuals or papers could be stolen, so core techniques were never written down!
But the Great War killed off so many artisan masters who should have passed on those skills.
Essential foundational techniques went untransmitted, leading to the loss of thousands of years of ancestral knowledge.
Dwarves saw their technological foundations crumbling, ushering in a long dark age.
But then they saw it.
That divine sword!
Its form!
Its quality!
A 'perfect' item without a single flaw!
Studying such perfection could restore their tech to some degree!
But that sword was guarded by the human world's strongest nation and the Celestial Church, faith of half the globe.
No amount of complaining or threats would get it.
So...
Paaang!!
"Kyaaaaak!!"
"Nooo!!"
"I-It's my fault!"
They had no choice but to thoroughly scour every room in the dungeon where such weapons might appear.
They also encountered sky islands—ultra-high-tech wonders—bringing fresh shock.
Having heard from humans that Balak was renovating the dungeon, they concluded he held those high-tech secrets.
Thus, elves and dwarves—who couldn't bequeath a dark age to their descendants due to their own failings—
faced death's terror on a level beyond humans, yet pressed on into the dungeon, ignoring their trembling bodies.
**************************
Meanwhile, completely forgetting the other races tackling the first floor, those holed up in the hobgoblin huts...
What about the humans entering alongside them?
"Kyaaahou!!"
"Eeeeek!! Pervert!!"
"Crazy!! What's he doing naked in the fountain!!"
Right!! Humans weren't thinking much at all!!
Unlike other races, humans bred disgustingly fast.
Short lifespans meant Great War survivors were old or dead—generations fully replaced!
With war wounds fully healed, humans lacked strong pride.
They thought freely.
Lived relatively short lives.
So unlike races hurtling toward dark ages, humans had bright futures—no psychological pressure.
They waged huge wars among themselves constantly.
Death felt so light that most humans, even dying painfully in the dungeon, just briefly lost it—then snapped back!
Of course, weak-willed adventurers suffered phantom pains forcing retirement—real hardship.
But compared to other races enduring centuries of agony? Laughable.
Anyway, humans—with no real thoughts and treating death lightly—were perfectly optimized for Balak's dungeon!
Humans rule!
This was a true ode to humanity!
But as adventurers writhed in black history trauma or snapped one by one, city security hit rock bottom.
Human leaders from each faction gathered to talk.
"Haa..."
"Hoo..."
"What do we do..."
Unlike elves/dwarves with futures at stake, this casual meeting just sighed.
Then, Laiter's Celestial Church cardinal proposed a solution.
Everyone froze hearing it.
But no alternative—they all nodded.
Time passed, and a new building rose in the city...
"Is that the mental hospital?"
"Yeah, it's huge—looks so depressing. And kinda scary..."
"But the church is running it, so it'll be fine, right?"
"Yeah, the Heavenly God watches from above."
"Kyaaaaak!! Property values!!!!"
"Th-they halved!! Graaaah!!"
A massive, hated facility—a giant asylum—plopped right in the city center!
Nearby buildings' values crashed nearly 50%—a惨 spectacle.
But for the city's future, no choice!
Landlords had to eat the loss.
Still, snapped adventurers and death-traumatized other races flooded in fast.
Security rebounded sharply.
Plus, humans had an ancient miracle cure.
They recovered quickly, with minimal relapses.
What was this wonder drug making it a panacea for humans?
This!
"Oh, a new patient."
"Air raid alert!! Air raid alert!!!"
"What the hell... Anyway, symptoms seem mild—move him to treatment quick."
"Got it."
In the treatment room, the human patient saw nuns surrounding him.
For some reason, they held iron rods.
"Huh?"
"Heavenly God, forgive us..."
"W-Wait. I'm sane no—!"
"Patient! Stay still! Time for treatment!"
Puuuunch!!!
Smaaack!!!
Stab!! Thwack!!
Violence couldn't solve most human issues. But some problems only violence fixed!
This magic potion forced the clueless to learn the concept—humanity's absolute elixir.
Love taps were perfect for the unhinged.
And the rod-wielders? Power-packed nuns.
Even beaten to a pulp, patients emerged unscathed post-treatment.
Humans learn through pain.
"Heh heh! I!!! I'm!!"
"Hm? You seem..."
"N-No!! I'm fine!!"
"Tsk, don't think so..."
Such pain ensured humans gripped sanity to avoid repeats.
Some nuns got breathless and flushed wielding rods.
Some patients moaned oddly.
But unlike other races, humans bounced back fast.
With economic spare from mini-dungeon spots, adventurers rejoined main dungeon raids.
Thus, events piled up over time.
The world, under Abyss's influence, faced rapid change.
At its center:
"Gaaaaaaah!!"
"Kyaaaaak!! My bones!!!"
"B-Bro Balak!! Why?!"
Balak, writhing from intermittent red potion surges.
Episode 2: Blockbuster Hit. END