My Dungeon Daddy System: Raising Monsters and Waifus Underground-Chapter 91 - A Moments Rest

The sign hanging on the heavy iron doors of the dungeon entrance was simple. It was written in Maira’s elegant, terrifying calligraphy, and it read:

[CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE. DO NOT ENTER. VIOLATORS WILL BE COMPOSTED.]

For the first time in days, the Twilight Estate was silent. The slot machines were powered down. The gauntlet traps were locked in the safety position. The "Grind" had stopped.

Reed floated.

He was currently neck-deep in the "Grand Prismatic Pool," the largest and hottest bath in the Abyssal Spa on Floor 2. The water, heated by Terra’s subterranean veins and filtered through Luma’s slime-infused bedrock, was a milky, glowing turquoise. It smelled of sulfur, lavender, and expensive victory.

Around him, the entire staff was decompressing. And for a Dungeon Lord with a "Thirsty Author" flag in his system, it was a lot of visual information to process.

To his left, a squad of Bone-Maids sat on the pool steps, letting the hot water bleach their femurs. They clicked their jaws rhythmically, gossiping in code. Further out, a group of Void Bunnies floated on the surface like dark, fuzzy buoys, their ears twitching happily. Even the Orc Matrons were relaxing, taking turns bench-pressing a massive boulder underwater while giggling.

"Status," Reed mumbled, his eyes closed, head resting on the stone rim.

[STATUS: RECOVERING]

[HP: 92% (Hand healed)]

[Void Mana: 15% (Regenerating)]

[Mental State: Liquid]

"Good," Reed whispered. "Nobody move. If anyone generates a single unit of stress, they’re fired."

"Understood, Boss," Grika’s voice bubbled up.

The goblin was floating on her back using an empty wooden bucket as a raft for a plate of cheese. She was wearing oversized welding goggles and absolutely nothing else, her green skin turning a soft pastel shade in the steam.

"But the kinetic stabilizers on Floor 3 are still twitching from the Chainsaw Massacre," Grika munched on a cracker. "I should probably—"

"Fired," Reed said.

"Copy that. Remaining stationary." She floated by with her eyes closed.

SPLASH.

"Riva is a boat!"

Something hit the water near Reed’s head. Riva, the Harpy, paddled past him. She was wearing a shower cap over her feathers (which looked ridiculous) and was towing a floating tray of silver spoons she had definitely stolen from the kitchen.

"Shiny needs a wash!" Riva chirped, scrubbing a spoon with a sponge. "Shiny has spots!"

Reed sighed, sinking lower until the water covered his chin. It was chaos, but it was his chaos. Riva earned it, because of her taking the weapons from the S Ranks, we probably would not have had them sign the contracts.

Then, he felt the weight.

A soft ripple moved through the water, followed by a heavy, smooth warmth pressing against his left side.

"The intruders are gone," Seraphine’s voice was low, lacking its usual command. "The Gilded Rose has retreated. The contract is signed. We are... safe."

Reed opened one eye.

The Lamia was coiled next to him, her massive twenty-foot emerald tail filling the deep end of the pool like a submerged dragon. Her human torso was leaning against the pool’s edge, her wet hair slicked back. She looked regal, beautiful, and utterly exhausted.

But Reed wasn’t looking at her face. He was looking at her tail.

The usually brilliant, jewel-hard scales were dull. Along the thickest part of her coil, where she had shielded him from the acid-spitting Sniper Lilies in the Garden, the scales were gray, pitted, and rough. Some were cracked, revealing the raw, pale skin beneath. She flinched slightly as the hot water touched them.

"You’re hurt," Reed said, sitting up. The water sloshed around his bare chest.

Seraphine looked away, her cheeks flushing darker than the steam. "It is merely cosmetic, My Lord. A few scratches from the vegetation. It will heal."

"It’s acid, Phine," Reed said gently. "And you’re molting. Or trying to. You’re stuck."

He reached out. Seraphine stiffened, her instincts screaming to hide the weakness, but she didn’t pull away. Reed’s hand, still faintly stained with the purple residue of the Void, touched the damaged section of her tail.

It felt like sandpaper. The heat coming off her body was intense. a feverish, dry heat that the water couldn’t quench. Her [Thermal Regulation] was haywire.

"It itches," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. She bit her lip. "It burns deep."

"Maira," Reed called out.

The Demon Maid materialized from the steam. She was wearing a modest white towel that did very little to hide her crimson curves or her severe attitude. She held a tray of iced tea and a jar of glowing green goop.

"Yes, Master?" Maira asked, pushing her fogged-up glasses up her nose.

"The Aloe-Slime extract?"

"Prepared," Maira confirmed, setting the jar on the edge. "I calculated a 94% probability that Seraphine would require dermatological intervention after treating her body like a riot shield from the Sniper Lilies."

"I did not treat my body like a shield," Seraphine hissed, splashing water at the maid. "I protected the Asset."

"Luma!" Reed called.

Bloop.

The water in front of Reed surged. Luma formed out of the pool itself. She was in her "Spa Mode", less humanoid, more of a sentient massage chair made of blue jelly. She wrapped a pseudopod around Reed’s shoulders.

"I’m here, Daddy!" Luma chirped, her voice bubbling. "Do we need the enzyme mix? I can dissolve the dead stuff!"

"Gentle dissolving," Reed ordered. He took the jar of green ointment. "Sera, roll over."

The Lamia hesitated, then slowly uncoiled, presenting the damaged length of her tail. It was an act of supreme trust.

Reed scooped out a handful of the cooling gel. It smelled like mint, magic, and relief. He began to work it into the cracked scales.

"Hhh-ah..." Seraphine let out a sound that was half-hiss, half-moan. Her claws dug into the stone edge of the pool, cracking the masonry. Her head fell back, exposing her throat.

"Easy," Reed murmured, working the oil into the gaps. "We pushed too hard. Floor 4 was a mess."

"IT WAS A VICTORY," Terra rumbled.

The Golem was sitting on the bottom of the pool, fully submerged. Only her glowing yellow eyes were visible above the surface, like a crocodile made of granite.

"WE CONQUERED THE WEEDS," Terra bubbled, the water boiling around her. "THE PLANT-WOMAN SUBMITTED." 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"Amara," Reed corrected, massaging a particularly stubborn scale until it loosened and slid free, revealing fresh, glistening emerald skin underneath. "And she didn’t submit. She... unionized. Sort of."

He thought back to the chaotic negotiation in the jungle. Amara was currently down there, singing to her pumpkins and threatening to eat anyone who stepped on the grass.

"We have a farm," Reed said, tossing the dead scale onto the deck. "We have a bridge. We have a truce with the S-Rankers. And we have Vesper taking care of the auditors."

"We have 5,800 Gold," Maira noted, sipping her tea. "The payment from Lady Isolde cleared. However, with the repair costs for the Iron Works, the restocking of the bar, and the daily tax..."

"Broke," Grika summarized, kicking her legs. "We’re broke with style."

Reed sighed, leaning back. Seraphine had stopped shivering. She was melting into the water now, her eyes rolled back in bliss as Reed’s hands worked the pain out of her body.

"We need a new plan," Reed said. "The ’Survival’ phase is over. We can’t just keep reacting. We need to build something that lasts. Something that makes money without me having to sell my blood, or act for some authority, or fight a necromancer, or wrestle a Paladin."

At the mention of the Paladin, the mood in the pool shifted.

"She is still gone," Seraphine murmured, her eyes opening slightly. "The Inquisitor."

"She’s at Confession," Reed said, feeling a pang of guilt. "The Authority isn’t happy about the noise we made."

She will return, Elara whispered inside his chest, her voice cool and sure. She is anchored to us now. The Steam calls her.

"Let’s hope," Reed said out loud.

He closed his eyes again.

The harem floated there for what felt like forever and bliss, just finally getting time to relax from all this overwhelming stress from these last few weeks.

TH-THUMP.

Reed frowned. "Did anyone else feel that?"

"Feel what?" Grika asked. "I’m not detonating anything. I swear."

TH-THUMP.

The water in the pool rippled. Not from movement, but from a vibration deep, deep below them. It felt like a heartbeat. A massive, geological heartbeat.

"Terra?" Reed asked. "Please tell me you didn’t fart."

"NEGATIVE," the Golem rumbled, standing up and displacing half the water in the pool. "TECTONIC PLATES ARE STABLE. THIS IS... INTERNAL."

TH-THUMP. CRACK.

The stone walls of the spa groaned. Dust drifted down from the ceiling. The bioluminescent moss flared bright violet.

Reed grabbed his chest. The Void Shard inside him wasn’t hurting. It was singing.

I feel the vibrations, Elara whispered from inside, The shard is shaking!

"The Core," Reed gasped. "It’s the Core."

He scrambled out of the pool, grabbing a towel. "Everyone, to the War Room! Move!"