Then again, what exactly could he expect when even he wanted to scrutinize himself?

It was obvious that the footnote had something to do with Luca, considering the clear identification of D-29 and D-64.

In the case of Dungeon 64, perhaps the reason it was marked as not applicable was because technically speaking, instead of clearing the dungeon...

He annexed it.

And honestly, if he assumed that was the reason, then it actually made a strange amount of sense.

But if they were to take all of this seriously—

Did that mean he cleared Dungeon 29 in only one minute and thirty-nine seconds?

How?

When?

Also, maybe they measured time differently?

Because really, who could possibly clear a dungeon that quickly when even the numbers listed on the board clearly had way more digits attached to them?

The confused dungeon owner tried to think harder about it, but his memories had always been frustratingly hazy and fragmented. So, not only did that make his account unreliable, but it also meant that forcing himself to sift through the mess would inevitably leave him with a pounding headache.

But just as he was gearing up for it, he felt a hand on top of his head.

Huh?

"It’s alright," Xavier said gently while ruffling Luca’s hair. "Take your time remembering. What’s important right now is verifying the threats associated with this gate."

His husband’s calm voice immediately eased some of the tension curling inside him. And when Xavier smiled at him like that—steady and reassuring—it became much harder for the skittish Luca to stress over trying to place his first encounter with D-29 into an exact timeline.

Then, of course, one excitable Ollie interjected into the conversation.

"That’s true, Brother!" the blonde declared confidently. "Also, it’s bad to question rankings. If you’re number one, then you’re number one! There’s definitely no need to doubt that!"

He sounded absurdly proud while saying it, too. The others looked at him like he’d completely lost his mind again, especially considering how he himself had nearly fused with the floor in despair after failing to convince everyone that he wasn’t ranked first in the Polishing Competition.

And now, hearing him say this so confidently, it was almost as if he’d completely forgotten about his impending licensure exam.

"..."

"..."

Then again, that was just the daily life of their resident mop.

He was as amusing as he was dangerous.

On the other hand, Luca, seeing everyone nodding or quietly agreeing, could only smile sincerely at them.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I’ll look into it responsibly."

And for the record, he genuinely meant that.

He would investigate it again eventually.

Just maybe not while there was something much more urgent sitting right in front of them.

Unfortunately, their investigation into the gate itself did not progress very far.

Partly because of the obvious limitations.

For one, they still could not obtain any additional information about the deeply suspicious structure that had cost them a horrifying 10 million CP.

And secondly—

D-64 kept returning to the gate.

Every.

Single.

Time.

No matter how many times they pulled the little one away, the baby system would eventually toddle or float right back toward it.

They even attempted to distract the baby system with a compelling sticker-book session.

Well, it worked beautifully.

For approximately several minutes.

Because the moment he finished, the little one would happily fly straight back toward the gate all over again.

After witnessing this happen repeatedly, everyone could only conclude one thing.

Either D-64 liked the gate far too much...

Or the gate itself had something to do with D-64.

After all, while the little one currently acted like a harmless ball of sunshine, it was still important to remember what it actually was.

A Dungeon Manager.

More specifically, the system that originally managed the annexed Dungeon 64.

Unfortunately, they could not properly verify their suspicions because D-29’s reach was currently extremely limited.

And yes, at the end of the day, the biggest issue remained the constraints currently shackling their sulking manager-of-managers.

Still, thankfully, it was also the problem that seemed to have a relatively obvious solution.

They just needed to proceed with the firmware update.

And for that—

They first needed a viable plan.

Marshal Julian looked contemplative as he leaned back slightly. "You’re saying that after moving away from the gate, you regained access to most of the functions you couldn’t use earlier?"

"Yes, Marshal!" Luca answered earnestly, though still somewhat hesitant.

Honestly, the discovery itself had been a fortunate accident.

After everyone insisted on maintaining a safer distance from the suspicious structure, Luca naturally moved farther away from the gate as well.

And all of a sudden, the aggressive prompts associated with the new gate began quieting down, almost as if they’d been pushed into the background naturally.

Well, that was definitely a welcome change from their earlier insistent nature.

And considering they had already discovered that plunging into a deadly situation remained exceedingly optional, everyone strongly discouraged Luca from pressing the only available choice.

Surprisingly, the next opinion came from Count Alexander.

"What about allowing D-29 to proceed with the update once we’ve confirmed that the gate remains stable and closed for several hours?" the Count suggested thoughtfully.

"I was considering the same thing," Marshal Julian admitted with a nod.

"But would it truly remain closed? If it’s anything like the dungeon phenomena described by the Duchess and the cadets, then perhaps it’s only dormant for now."

Count Alexander hesitated briefly before continuing anyway.

"Actually... the reason I’m leaning toward that conclusion is because I think the gate itself is stable."

"Huh?" Luca blinked in surprise. "Really, my lord? How so?"

"Because of the table," Count Alexander explained while gesturing toward the massive projection. "It specifically referred to itself as a ’Simulation Hall of Fame.’"

"But it’s not only that," he continued. "The footnotes used a Challenger ID, while the rankings themselves used what appear to be actual names just by the widely differing format."

The Empress suddenly pointed toward the projection. "Hmm... that actually makes sense."

"See, if you look at the table, some entries even repeat across different timestamps and rankings. Even if we couldn’t completely translate or read them, we can definitely group the matching ones."

"Like this... it really does resemble an actual leaderboard."

Count Alexander nodded immediately. "That was my thought as well, Your Majesty. If anything, it strongly suggests repeatability."

"And more importantly," he added, "it allowed Young Lord Luca to select a level."

It was then that Duchess Amelia finally spoke up.

"Come to think of it, back in that dungeon, we never truly had the chance to choose anything," she said slowly. "In fact, as more people joined, the dungeon difficulty simply kept increasing."

Luca quietly listened to the discussion unfolding around him.

And honestly...

Their conclusions made sense.

Eventually, the group agreed to maintain rotating shifts to monitor the gate.

They carefully balanced the groups as well, reasoning that if they were wrong and someone unexpectedly got sucked inside, then at the very least each shift should still contain enough capable people to survive a dungeon run.

Thankfully, after several long hours of surveillance—which eventually began to resemble some sort of anxious group picnic—they managed to confirm that the gate appeared stable.

There were no sudden fluctuations in spiritual energy.

No more uncontrollable prompts.

And most importantly, D-29 was once again able to function mostly as usual.

Yes. Mostly. Just enough to be able to risk going to the dungeon-linked space to enforce the upgrades.