My Dungeon Daddy System: Raising Monsters and Waifus Underground-Chapter 98 – A Stout Deal

The War Room

The streamers had left, taking their chaos, their glowing orb, and their weeping critic with them. Maira had stood at the door like a gargoyle of commerce, charging them 1,500 Gold for the bottle of "Twilight Noir" and another 500 Gold for "Legacy Model Fees" regarding Seraphine’s posing.

Cash was flowing. But Reed needed a flood, not a trickle.

He sat at the head of the obsidian table in the War Room. The map of the dungeon hovered in the center, glowing with soft blue mana.

BOOM.

The heavy oak doors of the War Room didn’t just open; they were breached.

Guildmaster Thrain did not knock. Dwarves didn’t knock. Knocking was for people who didn’t know how to inspect a hinge for structural weaknesses.

The Dwarf marched in. He was a cube of muscle and beard, roughly four feet tall and four feet wide. He wore a heavy leather smithing apron over mithril chainmail, and his belt was laden with tools that looked suspiciously like weapons of war. He was covered in a fine layer of coal dust and smelled like a thunderstorm trapped in a chimney.

"Dungeon Lord," Thrain grunted. He didn’t bow. He gave a sharp, singular nod, a gesture that was equal parts respect and a threat assessment.

"Guildmaster," Reed said, leaning back in his chair. He gestured to the empty seat on his right. "Coffee?"

"Ale," Thrain corrected, climbing into the chair. His heavy boots didn’t touch the floor, swinging slightly like a child’s, though no one would dare say that to a man who could headbutt a stone wall apart. "Dark. Thick enough to chew."

Reed snapped his fingers.

A Void Bunny phased through the floor, balancing a tankard the size of a bucket on its head. It placed the drink in front of the Dwarf and vanished.

Thrain drained half of it in one gulp. He slammed the tankard down, wiping foam from his braided mustache with the back of a hand that looked like a leather-wrapped ham.

"Right," Thrain said, his voice grave. "Your Harpy. The loud one with the badge. She dropped off a sample at the Guild Hall.. Said it was... fuel."

Reed leaned forward, clasping his hands. This was the pitch. "Not fuel, Thrain. An optimizer. We call it Rocket Fuel."

Thrain narrowed his eyes beneath bushy eyebrows that looked like steel wool. "My alchemists analyzed it. High caffeine. Sugar content that would kill a horse. Traces of Void-Salt. And something spicy that melted the testing spoon."

"Capsaicin and concentrated Void-Hops," Reed said smoothly. "It accelerates the metabolic rate. It heightens focus. It removes the need for sleep for... oh, let’s say six hours. Give or take a heart palpitation."

Thrain snorted. "Sounds like illegal combat stims. The Kingdom bans that sludge."

"It’s not a combat stim," Reed corrected. It was time for him to use the kingdom intel Maria trained him on. "It’s a productivity aid. Look, Thrain. You have a deadline on the Western Bridge repairs, don’t you? The flooding last season washed out the foundation. The Duke is breathing down your neck."

Thrain grunted, looking annoyed. "Aye. The lads are tired. It’s hard rock. And they’re unionized. Mandatory ale breaks every two hours. We’re weeks behind."

"Imagine if they didn’t want to take breaks," Reed whispered. "Imagine if they didn’t want to sleep. Imagine if they looked at a pile of rocks and felt a spiritual need to move it... faster."

Reed reached into his inventory. He pulled out a small, glass vial.

The liquid inside wasn’t just green. It was aggressively green. It glowed with a neon, radioactive intensity that cast harsh shadows across the table. It vibrated against the glass, buzzing like an angry hornet.

"One sip," Reed challenged, sliding the vial across the obsidian. "On the house."

Thrain looked at the vial. He looked at Reed. He was a Dwarf; he feared no poison, only bad craftsmanship. His liver was reinforced with generations of stone-dust and grain alcohol.

"If I die," Thrain rumbled, "my clan will dismantle this mountain brick by brick."

"I’d believe it.," Reed smiled.

Thrain unstoppered the vial. A wisp of green smoke hissed out. He tossed it back.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Thrain’s eyes snapped wide open. His pupils dilated until they swallowed the iris, turning his eyes into black tunnels. The veins on his thick neck bulged like ropes. His beard seemed to bristle with static electricity.

THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.

Reed could hear the Dwarf’s heart beating from across the table. It sounded like a piston engine revving to the red line.

"BY THE ANVIL," Thrain whispered. His voice was vibrating.

Thrain stood up. He didn’t just stand; he launched himself out of the chair. He began to pace. The pacing turned into a power-walk. He circled the table, his eyes darting around the room, tracking dust motes.

"I can see the grain," Thrain said rapidly, staring at the table. "This table. It’s oak. Northern slope. Cut in winter. Why is the joinery sloppy? Who made this? The dovetail is off by two millimeters."

Thrain reached into his belt. He didn’t pull out a weapon. He pulled out a small, pristine hammer.

WHAM.

He hit the table leg.

WHAM. WHAM.

"Fixed it," Thrain declared, vibrating. "I fixed the wobble. The wobble offended me. It was inefficient. What else is broken? I feel the need to construct. I feel the need to... OPTIMIZE."

He spun around on his heel, his gaze locking onto Maira.

The Demon Maid froze. She was used to being the most efficient person in the room. She was not used to being stared at by a Dwarf who was currently vibrating through the fourth dimension.

"Your glasses," Thrain barked, pointing a calloused finger. "They are crooked. One degree tilt to the left. It is affecting your peripheral vision by 4%. Fix them. Efficiency is key, lass!"

Maira blinked. She slowly took off her rimless glasses and slid them across the table.

"Be my guest, Guildmaster," Maira said, her voice filled with a strange mix of skepticism and curiosity. "Not even I have achieved that level of calibration, though I strive for it."

Thrain snatched the glasses. He pulled out an even smaller hammer, a tiny, jeweler’s mallet, from a hidden pouch. He tapped the frame. Tink. Tink. He twisted the nose piece with fingers that moved too fast to see.

"FIXED," Thrain shouted, sliding them back.

Maira put them on. She blinked. She looked around.

"Oh," Maira whispered. "The clarity. It is... geometric perfection."

She looked at Thrain with something dangerously close to respect. Maybe even arousal. Efficiency was her love language, and Thrain was currently speaking poetry.

Reed hid a smile behind his coffee cup. The hook was set.

"So?" Reed asked. "Do we have a deal?"

Thrain slammed his hands on the table. The wood groaned under the pressure.

"I’LL TAKE IT ALL," Thrain roared. "I have a crew digging the deep tunnel. They’re slow. They’re lazy. They talk about their feelings. I give them this? We hit bedrock by Tuesday. How much?"

"600 Gold per crate," Reed said. "Five crates available immediately. Grika has the still running hot."

"3,000 Gold," Thrain calculated instantly, his brain running on rocket fuel. "Done. Worth every copper. But I don’t carry that much cash. I’m a Guildmaster, not a dragon."

Reed leaned back. This was the pivot. He needed cash for the license, but he needed something else just as badly. If he could get the guild to assist him, he could possibly save on mana cost.

"Cash for the materials," Reed negotiated. "But I have a construction project of my own. I need a foundation dug. Surface level. The peak of the mountain. Big enough for a five-story spire."

Thrain, still vibrating with energy, waved his hand dismissively. "Digging? You want digging? I’ll send a crew. Ten lads. Mattocks and Earth-Magic. We’ll level your lot in a night if you throw in another crate of the red stuff for the weekend."

"The red wine is for relaxing," Reed warned. "The green is for working. Do not mix them, Thrain. Unless you want your miners to emotionally confess their love to the rocks while vibrating."

"I’ll take the risk!" Thrain yelled. He extended his hand. "Deal!"

Thrain grabbed Reed’s hand. The Dwarf’s grip was like a hydraulic press. He shook it so hard Reed’s teeth rattled in his skull.

"PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS," Thrain shouted. He turned and marched toward the door. "I’M GOING TO RUN BACK TO TOWN. I DON’T NEED A HORSE. I AM THE HORSE."

The Dwarf sprinted out of the room, leaving a trail of dust and a faint neon-green afterimage.

[SYSTEM: TRADE AGREEMENT SECURED.]

[SOLD: 5 CRATES OF ROCKET FUEL.]

[GAINED: +3,000 GOLD.]

[BONUS: DWARVEN CONSTRUCTION CREW (1 WEEK CONTRACT).]

Maira stared at the empty doorway, adjusting her perfectly calibrated glasses. "Master... did we just weaponize caffeine?"

"We just funded the empire," Reed said, checking his ledger. "And possibly caused a future labor dispute, but that’s a problem for future Reed."

But he wasn’t done.

Another notification pinged in his vision, flashing gold.

[SYSTEM: WINE SALES & STREAMER FEES PROCESSED.]

[THE "BALLADEER BUMP" HAS TRIGGERED.]

[SOLD: 1 BOTTLE OF TWILIGHT NOIR (1,500 G).]

[SERVICE FEES (Seraphine Model Rights): 500 G.]

[GAINED: +2,000 GOLD.]

Reed did the math in his head.

Starting: 3,850 G.

Dwarven Deal: +3,000 G.

Bardic Fees: +2,000 G.

Projected Casino Income: +2,000 G (From the hype wave).

Total: ~10,850 Gold.

He had enough. He could buy the license. He could legalize the spire. He could afford the upgrades.

"Maira," Reed said, standing up. The exhaustion was still there, bone-deep, but the thrill of the win pushed it back. "Open the ledger, I’m opening the System Shop."

Maira opened her ledger, her pen hovering over the page. "The Foundation License, Master?"

"Oh yeah!" Reed said. "This kingdom isn’t going to know what hit them!"

[SYSTEM: -5,000 GOLD.]

[ITEM ACQUIRED: SURFACE FOUNDATION LICENSE.]

[REMAINING GOLD: ~5,850 G.]

"And the surplus?" Maira asked. "We have excess gold. Shall we invest in the Mana Pipes?"

Reed stood there, looking at the crystal coret where the Spire would soon rise. He touched his chest, feeling the hum of the Void Shard. It was hungry. It wanted to expand.

"Save it," Reed said. "We’re going to need furniture. And I have a feeling Kaelen is going to need something expensive when she gets back."

As if on cue, a cold hum went through Reed’s body. The Void Shard in Reed’s chest throbbed.

Make it big, the Void whispered in the back of his mind. Make it tall. Let them see us.

Reed touched his chest. "Elara, was that you?" He asked out loud.

I haven’t said a thing Reed, I didn’t hear anything. She whispered in his mind.

Reed turned and looked toward the crystal. Could it be?

He turned back to the room. "Alright. Maira, get the permits filed. He looked at the map. The board was set. The pieces were moving.

Soon we’ll become a beacon.