The Dungeon Child

I narrow my eyes, the tension forcefully draining out of my body as I do. Straining my mana sense to the maximum, I tune out the casual conversation of the adults and focus exclusively on the faint strands of foreign mana filtering into my perception, then track them to their source.

They're all coming from the man at the door.

Altering my point of view, I place the majority of my sense cluster directly above the door, sliding down in my seat and closing my eyes. To a casual observer, it should appear as though I am taking a short nap - which means no one will (hopefully) bother me.

Returning my attention to the door, I'm startled to find the figure frowning at my cluster. I nearly flinch in my chair, but avoid doing so by a hair. Surreptitiously, I reduce the mana output of the sense cluster, and his frown deepens.

"Dude. What are you looking at?"

Blinking, he turns to Dillon, who's waiting impatiently. With an oily smile, he tells him, "Oh, nothing. I'm here to pick up the laptop."

Dillon's eyes narrow. "And you're giving me a full refund, right?"

He smiles patronizingly. "Of course. I've got the cash on me right now."

Shrugging, Dillon takes a step back. "Okay then, I'll be right back. Don't leave."

In the back of my consciousness, I hear him sprint up the stairs, shouting something unintelligible as he does. I take the opportunity to examine the strange person a little closer.

He's wearing a rather dapper top hat and waistcoat, with a button-up white shirt and black pants. His sharp dress shoes tap on the cement steps in a rhythm I can't hear, and the ice-blue eyes just above his perfectly trimmed beard are once again staring directly at the cluster.

Before I can shrink it further, he asks with a raised eyebrow, "I can see you, you know. Obviously, I can't see whichever one of you in there is producing the Sense, but I'd sooner rest in my grave than not notice something as clear as your cluster - which, I must admit, is of top-notch quality."

I don't know how to react to this. In my dungeon, the entire dungeon was my mana sense. I could see everywhere and everything without even needing to think about it - so it's a little disorienting to be noticed so casually by a stranger. Moreover, he's familiar with magic.

Charlie had stated quite bluntly that magic does not exist, or rather that it's hidden well enough that few are aware of its existence. The odds of one of these rare adventurers showing up in the same town as myself are... well, hard to calculate, but probably fairly low.

Bowing stiffly, he takes his top hat off and holds it to his chest, tilting his head quizzically. "I shall introduce myself. My name is Alex Richter. I know you're not that acne-infested teen. He doesn't give off a lick of magic, aside from handling the sensors I sold him."

Oh, that must be the familiar traces I was detecting earlier! That's one question answered at least.

Waiting for a long moment, he asks curiously, "Are you going to respond at all? Or are you unable to? I'm aware that it's difficult for even masters of the craft, but one can always hope to find a professional." Politely giving me a pause to speak, he begins tapping his foot again.

With a sigh, he puts his hat back on. "Very well. I shall assume that either you are unable or unwilling to respond to my advances. However curious I might be regarding your history, it's more than likely that you are from Ciniyo. If you intend to remain hidden from my sight, you should know that I was once known as the Plague of Winnetka."

A dangerous feeling emanates from him, and I tense in my seat. I don't recognize the name, but no one pleasant has ever been named after an uncontrollable spreading of disease.

Whatever he's about to say, he's interrupted by Dillon yanking the door open, a battered device in his arms. "All right, here you go - okay, seriously, what are you staring at!?"

Richter chuckles loudly, extending a gloved hand out to take it from him. "Once again, sir, I insist that I am merely enjoying the evening. Where are the nodes?"

Dillon blinks, his mouth falling open slightly. "The... nodes?"

Richter's forehead furrows. "Yes, the nodes. The large orbs with the tripods?"

Dillon coughs loudly. "Uhhh... I know where they are, I just need to go get them."

Putting his fingers to the bridge of his nose, Richter sighs. "Fine. Don't worry about it, I'll go get them. And yes," he says sharply, interrupting Dillon, "You will get your full refund, good sir."

Satisfied, Dillon hands him the device and stands there, hand extended, and waiting for his payment.

Appearing to think for a moment, Richter asks contemplatively, "You said over the online chat that the laptop had detected, and I quote, 'a crapton of magic'. What did you mean by that?"

Dillon waves his hand around, returning it to the expectant outward gesture, palm facing upward. "Your laptop was broken. Or it was staged, or it was fake - I really don't care. If you want to know what your own freaking laptop said, it was a big red blob and a bunch of tentacle bits coming off it."

Richter's eyes widen slightly, and he silently pulls a small stack of green paper out of his pocket, handing it to Dillon, who happily slams the door shut.

Turning to my cluster, Richter says with a raised eyebrow, "A large red... blob? I may have underestimated you slightly, stranger. I'd like to apologize for that - rest assured, it will not happen again."

I yank my consciousness out of the cluster and dissipate it, pulling the mana back into myself and slowly opening my eyes. I've had some serious monsters under my control, many of which were all too glad to attack a man to his face, or to stab him in the back.

But that man? That Alex Richter?

He gives me the feeling that he would make my monsters kill each other... and do it again, and again, until he had made his point, whatever that might be.

A stab of worry strikes me.

Glancing over at the Mother, I ask in my most winning voice, "Mother? Can we go home soon? I want to make sure Theory is okay."

She pauses in her conversation to give me a smile. "We only just got here, Jason! Why don't you put your dishes in the sink, and go play with Charlie for a while? We'll go home in an hour or two."

I can feel my co- my heart speeding up, and I try to force it to calm down. There's no way he knows where I live. There's no way he knows about my spider.

Everything is fine.

Everything. Is. FINE.

And yet, I worry.