A Trash Novel's Only Reader-Chapter 25: Dungeon Team

"I will keep this brief since time is not on our side." The leader opened a folder and slid a single page toward the center of the table. A map sat on it, marked with red circles and handwritten notes that looked rushed.

"Forty minutes ago, our scouts flagged a new dungeon emergence on the eastern edge of the city," she said, tapping one finger on the map. "Crimson Forest is what they are calling it. It appeared overnight with no warning, seismic activity, or prior monster migration patterns."

Murmurs spread through the room since a new dungeon appearing without warning was not normal. Dungeons usually announced themselves with tremors, mana spikes, or at least some kind of disturbance that gave hunters time to prepare.

"Overnight?" the older man from earlier asked, leaning forward with a frown. "That is not possible, even low-tier dungeons take days to stabilize before they open."

"That is correct," the guild leader said, her expression staying flat. "Which is why this one concerns me."

She pulled out another sheet and placed it beside the map. This one had rough estimates written in tight handwriting, numbers that made more than one hunter’s face change.

"Scout reports estimate the monster count between one hundred and one hundred fifty," she said. "Type is unknown, but the mana signature suggests a forest-type ecosystem with possible corruption markers."

Raniel’s eyes locked onto that last line.

’Corruption markers?’ she thought, her fingers tightening under the table. ’That is demon territory, forest dungeons do not just develop corruption on their own.’

The white-haired B-Rank from earlier spoke up, his earlier annoyance with Raniel pushed aside by something more serious.

"If those numbers are real, then this isn’t something you hand to random field teams," he said, leaning forward with his arms on the table. "A new dungeon with unknown monsters and possible corruption markers needs A-Rank supervision from the start."

One of the older hunters gave a slow nod. "Agreed, if corruption is even a possibility, we can’t afford to underestimate it."

The man near the window did not look convinced. "Or we are panicking over scout noise," he said, tapping the table once. "New dungeons always look worse from the outside, and half those early numbers end up bloated."

"Usually, yes," the leader said. "This one is different."

She tapped the map again, this time closer to the outer ring of red marks.

"The mana spread is still growing, but the entrance already stabilized enough for partial scouting. That should not be happening this fast."

That shut down a few of the lighter reactions right away.

The older man frowned harder, "then the smart move is recon first," he said. "A small fast team goes in, maps the first layer, confirms the monster type, and pulls back. We don’t throw our best hunters into an unknown forest blind."

"And if the corruption markers are real?" Raniel asked, making several eyes turn towards her.

The older man looked annoyed she even dared speak, "then we adjust after recon."

Raniel shook her head, "if the corruption markers are real, we will just end up sending those scouts to their deaths, do you really want that blood on your hands?"

The older man scoffed, his face darkening. "Blood on my hands? Don’t act so self-righteous, girl. Casualties are part of the job, if we don’t send scouts, we risk the main force, which could collapse the entire guild’s defensive line."

"Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?" she fired back, her tone sharpening. "You want to send people to die because casualties are normal? Then why don’t you go with them and offer up your life for the guild-" 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

"Enough," the guild leader’s voice cut through the rising tension, cold and authoritative, making both of them go silent.

She looked at the older man first, "Raniel is right, normal scouts will only feed the dungeon, making use lose lives of innocent hunters." Then she turned her gaze to Raniel. "Which is exactly why I called you here."

Raniel blinked, the sudden shift catching her off guard, "me?"

"Your guild file notes high resistance to toxin and mind-altering effects," she said, pulling out another sheet of paper. "Plus, your swordsmanship is better suited for cutting through dense environments than most heavy hitters in this room."

The white-haired hunter frowned, "you want to send a C-Rank into a potential corruption zone? Leader, with all due respect, that is reckless."

"She will not be going alone," the leader said smoothly, sliding a hand over the map. "I am forming a specialized strike team. No massive numbers, just a small, highly capable unit that can hit hard, survive the corruption, and pull out if things go bad."

She looked around the table, her eyes settling on the white-haired hunter, then another B-Rank woman near the front, and finally back to Raniel.

"The three of you will lead it," she declared, leaving no room for argument. "Gather whoever else you trust, but keep the team under ten people. I want you at the Crimson Forest entrance by tomorrow morning."

The older man opened his mouth to object, but the leader held up a hand. "The decision is final, if this dungeon breaches, the eastern block falls within days. We don’t have time for safe scouting."

Raniel stared at the map, her earlier annoyance completely forgotten, replaced by a sudden rush of anticipation.

’A corrupted forest dungeon,’ she thought, her lips pressing into a thin line. ’This is exactly the kind of mess that gets people killed.’

But then another thought slipped into her head, uninvited and completely inappropriate for the situation.

’I wonder if I should invite that mystery man?’

She stood up with the rest of the hunters as the meeting ended, quickly deciding against it. ’No, he is still too weak. Bringing him into a dungeon of that scale will only risk his life.’

She turned and started walking out of the office, already planning her supply run for the morning. She made it halfway down the corridor when a hand suddenly clamped onto her shoulder.

The grip was heavy, and the wave of pure bloodlust that came with it was enough to make the air in the hallway feel thick.

She stopped and glanced back, finding the white-haired B-Rank man standing right behind her. The smirk from the meeting was gone, replaced by a dark, flat stare that promised violence.

"Mind your place, C-Rank," he said, his voice dropping low enough that only she could hear it. "Because if you keep acting like you belong at the adults’ table, you are going to live a very short life."

He walked past her, his footsteps fading down the corridor. She watched his back until he turned the corner, then her face when blank.

’What an idiot,’ she thought, rubbing her shoulder, ’tch, my mood has suddenly been ruined.’