The party started revealing its true nature as soon as they entered the dungeon and engaged in their first battle.
The first enemy was a horde of skeletons.
It was similar in scale to what previous parties had faced.
However, this time, the battle was tougher.
It wasn’t an issue of equipment.
As Amon had evaluated at the entrance, the party’s equipment was quite advanced for beginners.
Compared to Paul’s party, it was lacking, but it was overkill against skeletons.
However, despite the quality of the equipment, the users themselves were subpar.
“I’m going in!”
Without specifying where, the orc tank charged straight in.
In Paul’s party, Tori, who played the tank role, would focus on breaking through the shield bearers to disrupt the formation so that the machine gun could operate effectively.
But this orc tank was different.
“Hahaha! That guy’s head is mine!”
Ignoring the shield bearers, he charged right into the center of the skeleton horde and began smashing them like the hero of a movie.
As a result, the party was left to face the core of the skeletons without a tank to support them.
If he’d taken out the commander quickly, it might have been understandable.
But despite his aggressive charge, he was only picking off ordinary soldiers in the middle of the enemy ranks, while the commander leisurely attacked from a safe spot.
“Ugh! Fall back!”
Amon shouted as he tried to defend the rear guard in the tank’s absence, blocking bone spears and kicking back shield bearers to barely keep the backline safe.
As Amon struggled to fend off the skeletons, his eyes scanned the battlefield swiftly.
It was full of gaps.
The mage was chanting with their eyes closed, ignoring the need to evade, and the tank was in the heart of the enemy ranks, taking hits that could have been avoided.
The only dependable members in this situation were the machine gunner and the rifleman.
With the tank in the midst of the enemy, spraying the machine gun was obviously out of the question.
So Amon called out to the party leader, who was also the rifleman.
“Hump! Can you snipe the commander?”
He shouted as he cut down an approaching skeleton and stomped on its spine and skull.
Fortunately, Hump’s answer was affirmative.
“I can!”
“Then, please snipe when I give the signal!”
Amon charged toward the enemy ranks.
Swinging his twin blades, Amon forced his way to the center of the enemy formation, cutting down all the shield bearers standing between Hump and the commander.
Although he hadn’t crushed their spines and skulls, which would have kept them down, Amon reached the commander before they could rise again.
Amon leaped high over the commander and shouted, “Now!”
Bang!
A single bullet pierced the skeleton commander’s head, shattering the skull as the commander’s body staggered.
As Amon landed on the now-headless commander, he crushed its spine with a stomp.
Crack!
With its spine and head destroyed, the skeleton commander couldn’t rise again.
Of course, just because the commander was down didn’t mean the remaining skeletons would turn to ash or anything like that.
The tricky part of skeletons was that, for monsters, they were quite organized, but as individual entities, they weren’t that strong.
Right after the commander was taken down, as Amon intended, the formation began to fall apart.
However, Amon did not forget his frontline duties even in the weakened assault.
He returned to the party to protect the rear guard.
But before he could reach them, he heard an unsettling sound.
“Take cover on your own!”
With the commander gone and the shield bearers’ formation crumbling, the machine gunner started firing wildly.
‘Damn it!’
Cursing inwardly, Amon immediately dropped to the ground.
Ratatatat!
With deafening noise, the machine gun sprayed fire.
The sound of countless bones shattering echoed above Amon’s head.
He endured a few seconds under the rain of bone fragments hitting his head until the machine gun finally stopped.
In the bone-strewn hallway, the beastkin holding the machine gun whistled.
“Phew~ That felt good.”
Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Paul smirked.
Amon and the orc tank emerged from the bone heap and protested at Paul.
“What the hell was that?”
“Are you insane?”
But the beastkin was unfazed by their complaints.
“Hey, you’re the frontline. You’re supposed to be tough, right? Stop whining over this.”
Veins bulged on the foreheads of the frontliners.
However, before they could express their anger, the skeletons began to revive.
Seeing this, Amon recalled how Paul’s previous party handled the situation.
‘Right, Paul always finished them off.’
Unless the spine and skull of a skeleton were destroyed, they would keep reviving endlessly.
But it wasn’t practical to destroy the spine and skull of dozens of skeletons individually, so Paul had always handled the cleanup.
Amon looked over at the mage in their party.
Just as he turned, the elf girl finished chanting and cast her spell.
“Enchant!”
As Amon blinked in disbelief, her magic imbued the weapons of Amon and the other party members.
Surprisingly, this was real.
The mage, who had been chanting since the battle began, cast “Enchant” at the end of the fight.
‘Damn it, is this mage tone-deaf?’
Amon stared at the mage in horror.
She seemed blissfully unaware of her mistake, staring at Amon with a finger on her lips and a ‘Hmm?’ expression that made him want to scream.
But in the scene unfolding before him, he could finally understand the situation.
“What’s the matter, Amon? Why aren’t you moving?”
Empowered by her enchantment, the men began finishing off the skeletons one by one.
Amon couldn’t believe the sight before him.
Bang! Bang!
The shooters were finishing off skeletons with enchanted bullets.
If it had been the frontline orc tank crushing them with a mace, or the rear guard stomping them, it might have made sense.
After all, conserving the mage’s mana wasn’t a bad idea, assuming time and efficiency weren’t considerations.
‘But why waste bullets just to finish them off?’
‘Do these guys not understand that bullets are consumables?’
Inside a dungeon, bullets need to be conserved as much as possible.
There’s no resupply, and a gunman without bullets is just dead weight.
But it seemed they were completely unaware of that fact.
‘Crazy…’
At that moment, Amon mentally labeled this party as a total failure.
Grumbling to himself, Amon began the task.
Meanwhile, the mage did nothing more than wiggle her fingers and cheer.
“Go, team! Keep it up!”
There was no “extra energy” from her cheers—only extra blood pressure for Amon.
But unlike Amon, the other men seemed motivated.
The machine gunner, the orc tank, and even the rifleman leader put extra effort into the cleanup to gain her favor, even using bullets.
Once the cleanup was done…
“The one who defeated the most skeletons this time was… Paul!”
The elf awarded the top player of the round.
Seeing this, Amon finally understood why this party was such a mess.
‘So she’s like a queen bee?’
Unaware of Amon’s thoughts, the elf threw flirtatious glances his way.
Her attempt to charm him only had the opposite effect, as Amon backed away in disgust.
For some reason, the other men seemed to misunderstand his reaction, casting competitive glances his way.
“Damn it…”
Amon sighed, running a hand down his face.
Meanwhile, the party leader, who had been searching the skeleton pile for loot, quietly pocketed something in his bag.
After repeating this a few times, he shook his head and returned to the party.
Amon’s eyes narrowed.
But before he could bring it up, the leader said something he couldn’t ignore.
“If we’re done resting, let’s get moving!”
A flood of question marks appeared in Amon’s mind.
‘Leaving immediately?’
‘What about checking the guns? Ammunition?’
‘Shouldn’t they check for injuries? And the mage’s mana reserves?’
‘And most of all, feedback—where was the feedback?’
Amon wondered if the party leader had just forgotten, so he decided to ask.
The entire party looked at Amon as if he were some strange person.
The leader spoke up.
“Do you inspect your sword after every battle?”
“Of course.”
A sword, unlike in games, doesn’t have infinite durability.
It needed to be inspected when there was downtime after a battle.
But this response seemed to annoy the leader.
“Wow, I’ve never seen such a clueless person.”
“Then when will you meet your daily quota? If you inspect after every battle, when are you going to improve your stats? With that pace, you won’t even meet the daily minimum, you idiot.”
Amon’s mouth shut tight.
He wanted to argue.
Paul’s much more competent party always took time for feedback and weapon inspection after a fight.
But they were an established party with some savings.
In contrast, this party was a novice group, living from day to day.
He could understand their perspective—if they weren’t a bunch of deadbeats.
‘If I stay with this idiot, I’m 100% dead.’
As if three failures weren’t enough, the leader refused to inspect their gear, didn’t provide feedback, and even secretly hoarded loot.
It was settled in Amon’s mind.
Four deadbeats confirmed.
Amon made a quick decision.
“I’m done here.”
Whether he ended up with his legs digested by a slime, his head split by a monster, or crushed in a battle for the queen bee’s favor, the future looked bleak with this party.
He hadn’t grown attached to them, anyway.
Wherever they ended up dying was none of his concern.
But the party leader didn’t let him go easily.
“Then pay the penalty.”
“What penalty? We didn’t even sign a contract.”
“I’ve never seen such a disrespectful brat. Didn’t you read the rules when you joined? This penalty exists because of people like you who try to run away.”
Amon tilted his head in confusion.
There shouldn’t be any such clause.
Amon was meticulous with terms and conditions, checking even case studies, so he knew the rules well.
And there was no mention of a penalty.
As Amon pondered if he had forgotten anything, the leader mistook his silence for agreement and held out his hand, demanding money.
“Four thousand dollars.”
“Excuse me?”
“One thousand dollars per person for four members, right?”
The leader’s shameless attitude left Amon speechless.
‘Did he seriously believe Amon’s daily wage equaled that much value?’
Looking at his smug face, Amon was certain.
‘He’s just a fool.’
Thinking Amon hadn’t read the rules, he’d just thrown out an arbitrary demand.
Well, Amon had a response, too.
“You must have misread the terms. There’s a clause that states if there’s a conflict among party members and one leaves, they only get a share of the earnings up to that point.”
“What do you know—”
Amon pulled out his phone and showed a PDF of the detailed terms.
The clause was indeed right where he pointed.
“In today’s world, that trick won’t work, my friend.”
With the evidence in hand, the leader was left speechless.
Thus, Amon decided to bid farewell to the party.
However, there was one last thing he needed to address before leaving.
“I believe I’m entitled to my share of what’s in your pocket.”
“W-what are you talking about?”
‘Did he think Amon wouldn’t notice?’
With everyone’s attention on the queen bee elf, he must have thought it was easy to steal without being seen.
But Amon had zero interest in the elf, so when the leader returned to the group pretending he hadn’t taken anything, it was obvious.
Amon was someone who knew how to claim his rightful dues.
Just like the leader had done, Amon held out his hand to demand his share.
The leader, sweating nervously, glanced at the other members.
No one sided with him after realizing his theft.
The leader looked back at Amon.
Amon’s other hand was resting on the hilt of his sword.
Realizing he had no way out, the leader began begging, shifting from casual speech to formal, almost desperate language.
“After all, you’re well-off, right? Couldn’t you let us have a little more?”
“We?”
“It’s just you.”
Amon, exasperated, slightly drew his sword, letting a chill slice through the air.
Cornered, the leader stammered before finally blurting out his excuse.
“I have a sick younger sibling! Remember the previous vanguard who got his legs dissolved by slime? I need it for that kid…”
But Amon didn’t care about such sob stories.
“Enough. Just give me my share.”
“Isn’t it ironic that someone who once summoned D4C for a stranger’s party would be after a mere ten-dollar mana stone?”
“I spent too much money then, so my balance is a bit tight.”
Of course, that wasn’t true.
Amon was kind-hearted enough to spend a fortune on a complete stranger, but that was a rare kindness in this cyberpunk world.
If he’d been treated poorly, he wouldn’t extend any favors.
Though he might only get about ten dollars out of this, he intended to claim it out of principle.
The leader, gritting his teeth, threw the mana stone at Amon.
“Take it and drop dead, you Scrooge.”
Amon pocketed the mana stone and turned to leave.
Still, out of a small sense of duty, he asked them one last thing before they parted ways.
“Are you coming back with me, or are you continuing further in?”
At least they had some awareness and decided to return with Amon.
“Coward.”
The leader’s sharp words trailed Amon, but he just shrugged.
As he led the way, he could hear an argument behind him.
“Hand over what you stole.”
“This was my first time! I swear, believe me.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“I told you, it’s for my little brother.”
Amon smirked at the familiar lines as he overheard their conversation.
‘Why should I trust that?’
Meanwhile, the queen bee elf was attempting to play peacemaker between the two, yet clearly aiming to maintain her control.
Amon led the pack of failures out of the dungeon.
Before parting ways, Amon gave a polite farewell to the group.
“It was a pleasure meeting you all.”
“Get lost, you hypocrite. Pfft.”
Even his last bit of goodwill was trampled.
Though he wasn’t exactly in a good mood, Amon decided to brush it off as a stroke of bad luck.
And then, the next day.
***
“Mr. Amon. This is the police. Could you please open the door?”
“What is it?”
“The leader of the party you were with yesterday—Hump, was it?—he was found dead. We’re investigating the possibility of foul play and were wondering if you could cooperate.”
Listening to the officer’s voice over the intercom, Amon let out a deep sigh.
‘Why can’t I catch a break?’