Deep Dungeon: I’ve been thrown into a game-like world with a class system. Armed with a mediocre ability and no allies I’ll take it easy and progress at my own pace
“Toryaaaah!”
I, who didn’t have any weapons, bravely charged at the Paper Golem with my bare fists. The thing didn’t even try to dodge my attack—it just lumbered forward with slow, sluggish movements.
My fist landed perfectly right in its gut—
“Owww!”
I thought it’d be like hitting cardboard, but it felt like my bones were about to break! No choice but to move on to my next tactic.
“Farewell! Totsu-an!”
I darted past the Paper Golem’s side with flair, striking a hard-boiled pose—finger raised and wagging side to side.
I’d already figured out it was slow when I punched it earlier. As expected, it couldn’t keep up with my movements, and I shook it off easily.
“Where’s the treasure chest?”
“I cannot answer that question.”
I didn’t get mad at the dolphin’s cold, robotic response.
I’d realized it wasn’t a strategy guide—just a basic in-game help function. Can’t ask for too much luxury here.
Since then, I’ve run into the Paper Golem twice more, but I’ve been sticking to evasion while exploring the first floor.
Even as I move, I’ve been tossing questions at the dolphin, though useful answers are few and far between.
“What’s the dungeon’s structure like?”
“It’s a roguelike.”
“What’s a roguelike?”
“The dungeon’s layout changes every day.”
“Wha—huh?! Even the elevator’s position?”
“That doesn’t change.”
So, the safe sanctuary spots stay fixed, but the rest of the dungeon’s layout swaps out randomly each day. Apparently, treasure chests and monsters respawn every time it resets, too. Games with this kind of ever-changing dungeon setup are called “roguelikes,” it seems.
Might be a hassle for players, but for me, a roguelike’s a blessing. After all, it means treasure chests respawn daily!
From the dolphin’s intel, I know the dungeon’s got monsters, traps, and treasure chests. Maybe it’s a newbie bonus, but up to the 10th floor, there are no traps, and the chests don’t have locks or booby traps either.
In other words, I can open chests to my heart’s content!
At this rate, I won’t be able to beat the Paper Golem to earn Gald. Guess I’ll have to snag some Gald or a decent weapon from a chest instead.
The dolphin wouldn’t tell me what’s inside the chests, so it’s a surprise until I open them. If it turns out to be a mimic chest monster, that’d be a disaster… but since there are no traps up to the 10th floor, there shouldn’t be trap chests either.
After wandering around for another 20 minutes, I bumped into the Paper Golem twice more.
Is the first floor only populated by Paper Golems? I haven’t seen any other monsters yet.
Then, at last, I spotted a rectangular chest!
It was about the size of a hug, an antique-looking metal box with rust creeping over it.
Creak, creak, creak.
I popped it open.
“You obtained 100 Gald.”
A message floated into my vision. Nothing was inside, but my Gald counter jumped from 0 to 100.
Now I can grab a meal—nice!
I’m not done yet. I’ll scour every corner of the first floor!
“You obtained a Wood Shield.”
“You obtained 50 Gald.”
“You obtained a Crowbar.”
“You obtained a Wooden Sword.”
“You obtained a Tattered Robe.”
Since the currency just adds to a system number, I figured items might go into some kind of inventory box I could pull from anytime. Nope—they’re all physical objects.
My school backpack vanished when I got dropped into this Deep Dungeon world, too.
“Dolphin, can I sell items?”
“Throw them in the trash.”
Guess I can’t sell them. Tossing them feels like a gutsy move, though—I haven’t fully explored the first floor yet.
Alright, I’ll leave everything but the crowbar behind for now.
The crowbar’s about 40 centimeters long, a thin iron rod that’s easy to hold and swing. If I rig something to hang it from my waist, it shouldn’t get in the way of my movement either.
Now armed with a crowbar, I decided to take on the Paper Golem.
“Ugh, it’s slow, but it’s still kinda scary.”
To test its attack power, I chucked the Wood Shield at it.
CRACK!
Its slow swing—not even its fist, but its elbow—smashed into the shield, splitting it clean in two.
No way, no way—that’s impossible!
The Wood Shield’s name implies it’s wooden, sure, but splitting wood in half isn’t something just anyone can do. I’ve seen karate demos where people break boards, so maybe it’s not impossible for a human…
“If it doesn’t hit me, it’s no big deal.”
Given its slow moves and big size, I’ll hit it if I swing. If it doesn’t work, I’ll just run.
Even I was shocked at how timidly I swung the crowbar.
Thwack.
It bounced off the Paper Golem, leaving a slight dent where it hit. No numbness in my hands, but at this rate, I won’t be taking it down anytime soon.
Wait a sec—this Deep Dungeon’s a game-like world. Maybe a “space” is a better word.
The big difference is that I’m a flesh-and-blood human playing it. Could be some virtual space some being crafted to mimic a game, too—I can’t rule it out.
What I’m getting at is this: my real-world strength, or assumptions like “it’s wood” or “it’s paper,” might not follow “common sense” here.
The Paper Golem probably has a set defense stat, and the crowbar’s got an attack stat. I’ll look into it later, but I bet I’ve got some parameters or abilities that boost my attack power too.
Since I just started, and the dolphin said there’s no stat buffs yet, I’m probably only doing “thwack”-level damage to the Paper Golem.
“Guess I’ll open as many chests as I can and head back.”
Playing it for real helps me figure out what I need to look up. Researching everything beforehand is tough—too much info, and without knowing what’s important, it just doesn’t stick for me…