Duo Leveling LITRPG | Post Apocalyptic | SYSTEM-Chapter 82 - Where Dreams Rot and Echoes Dance

Chapter 82 - Where Dreams Rot and Echoes Dance

"So where is it, exactly?"

Jhin turned his head and asked the question evenly.

Pete , already munching on a chocolate bar he’d fished from the pack strapped to Neon’s shoulder, spoke casually through a full mouth.

"Northbey Tower ."

"...What?"

"The Bermuda Zone. It’s the amusement park in front of Bey Tower—’Bey World.’"

"I’ll wait on the train."

Standing inside the boss room of D-10, Pete tapped a hidden panel and looked back at Jhin .

They had transferred from Line 10 to Line 2, through an underground mobile dungeon that was quickly approaching NorthbeyStation.

"Alright. Just... take care of the kids."

The children’s bodies were still inhabited by kobold souls. That was the only reason their bodies hadn’t perished yet. But it also meant they could snap or bolt off at any moment.

Pete responded with an exaggeratedly lazy tone.

"Yessir, yessir."

"Don’t just brush it off. This dungeon? I’m loaning it to you. Try using it for anything sketchy, and you know exactly what’ll happen."

"You worry too much, man. Seriously."

Jhin patted Pete ’s shoulder and turned around to search for the exit. As expected of a boss room like D-10, there was a direct exit leading out of the dungeon.

Luke stepped in beside him and asked quietly, "Do you trust him?"

"...Trust who?"

"Neon. That man has stabbed you in the back before, has he not, Sir Kyle?"

Jhin narrowed his eyes and looked at Luke .

If he were being honest, Pete was probably a million times more trustworthy than Luke . But he didn’t say it aloud. Not anymore.

Somehow, Luke had transformed into this... obedient subordinate. Anything Jhin said, he followed to the letter. It was strange. It made it hard to dislike him like he used to.

Back in high school, Luke had always looked down on him—literally and figuratively. But now he bowed, used formal speech, and practically wagged his tail.

It was a little uncomfortable.

But still... better this than him being a wild card.

Jhin shrugged. "It’s not that I trust Pete ." fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

"Huh?"

"I’m just confident he won’t betray me."

This was a guy who had already stabbed him in the back once, even if it was near the end of the game’s life. You don’t just forget that. You don’t smile and pretend to trust him again.

But Jhin did know one thing: the man had a nose for money. A born merchant.

If anyone understood the value of a mobile dungeon in a collapsing New Capital, it was Pete —no, Neon.

The Company had used the dungeon for business, but Neon? Neon was probably already dreaming up a dozen new ways to squeeze gold out of it.

Jhin trusted that instinct. That greed.

As long as the Three Goblins still hold the boss seat in the mobile dungeon... and as long as Lykan is under my control, then the dungeon’s authority belongs to me.

If Pete wanted to use it, he’d have to get Jhin ’s permission. Every time.

And someone like him, who understood value and risk better than anyone, wouldn’t gamble everything by stabbing Jhin in the back.

Besides... stabbing me in the back now? That’d be a special kind of crazy.

This wasn’t just the end of a game. This was the end of the world.

Jhin stepped through the exit.

Millie followed behind. So did Luke . And the goblin general, Lykan, strutted along with them like a member of the party now.

Apparently, Lykan was considered a full-fledged player at this point. Even without a dungeon break, he exited with no restrictions whatsoever.

"Travel safe!"

Jhin glanced back once at Pete waving exaggeratedly from the train. Then he turned to face the underground platform of Northbey Station, cold air stinging his lungs.

Gone was the warm, dim glow of the ghost train. This was winter’s bite. The cold cut deep, all the way to the bone.

Ruins, underground.

There wasn’t a trace of life in the Northbey Station of Line 2. Not even the sense that someone had once lived here. Just darkness. No light. No movement. No sign of passage.

Millie pulled out her smartphone and switched on the flashlight.

Fortunately, her phone had been upgraded in Ark. It didn’t run on electricity anymore, but on magic power. No risk of the battery running out.

She scanned the station, light sweeping across shattered tiles and broken signage.

Everything looked... abandoned. Left exactly as it had been that day.

No signs of monsters. Just silence. Emptiness.

Before long, they reached the entrance to Bey World.

"...Bey World. I always wanted to visit this place."

"Huh?"

"I never imagined I’d come here like this."

She swung the flashlight slowly, scanning the entrance of the amusement park. A bitter smile played at her lips.

Jhin watched her quietly, then asked, "Is this your first time here?"

"Yeah. I debuted really young, you know? Being an idol... I never had the chance. I never even dreamed of visiting a place like Bey World. I never had an event scheduled here either."

"...Ah."

Jhin nodded softly. It made sense now.

Corelands may have fallen to ruin, but back then, Millie had been one of the most famous celebrities in the country. Practically everyone knew her name.

Cast at a young age. Idol training. No freedom. No childhood.

This wasn’t just her first time in Bey World—it was her first time in any amusement park.

She glanced around wistfully.

"I always thought I’d take a photo in front of the carousel someday..."

Jhin didn’t reply. He was already scanning the surroundings with keen eyes. They had passed through the entrance and now stood at the park’s central landmark—the grand carousel.

But nothing moved. No sound. No monsters.

It was just... quiet. Abandoned.

That’s what’s strange.

It was too clean. Like no one had set foot in this enormous place since that day.

Could this really be the only part of the city left untouched?

"There. That’s the main photo spot."

It was a location that showed up on social media often—people snapping couple selfies, friends laughing, children playing.

Millie had wanted to do the same. Just once. Pretend to be an ordinary person. Capture a piece of normal life.

She stared for a moment, then lowered her voice.

"...Not that something like ’normal life’ even exists anymore."