[Players must complete village assistance tasks to earn Dungeon Entry Credits. Recommendation: 10 credits per help and 50 max. (Host can bestow more credits at will.) Minimum needed to enter: 1000/1000. (Credits would go negative if they did evil.)]

"Perfect," Viktor said, a satisfied smile playing at his lips. "If explorers have to earn credits by helping villagers before they can enter the dungeon, they'll compete for those opportunities. They'll rebuild houses, clear fields, protect the village—anything to get access. Turn them into guardians instead of vultures."

[SYSTEM AWAITING DUNGEON NAME DESIGNATION FOR MAKING WORLDWIDE ANNOUNCEMENT.]

"Right. The name." Viktor walked toward the window, cradling Toby against his chest as he looked out over the struggling village.

The stone buildings, the dirt roads, the people who'd survived on nothing but scraps and hope.

He drew a breath.

"World's Strongest Dungeon Which Gives Skill Books and Treasures, Situated in Millbrook Town," he said, each word deliberate.

[...What kind of nonsense name is this?]

Even the system sounded offended.

Viktor's lips curved into a genuine grin. "Obviously. Why dance around it? Everyone's going to ask what the dungeon offers anyway. Might as well tell them straight. Skill books, treasure, located here in Millbrook. It's direct. It's honest. It advertises itself. Come on, shouldn't we be obvious about what we're offering? People need to know exactly what they're getting. No confusion, no mystery—just straight facts that make them drool."

[PROCESSING... COMPLETE.]

[Dungeon name registered: "World's Strongest Dungeon Which Gives Skill Books and Treasures, Situated in Millbrook."]

[ACKNOWLEDGED.]

[System will apply designated name to all dungeon-related rewards and achievements. Fair warning: All items, abilities, and items obtained from this dungeon will automatically include the tower name in their designation.]

[Prepare for global recognition.]

"That's the fucking point," Viktor said with a satisfied exhale. "Free advertising across the entire world. Every hunter who gets a skill book from this dungeon is going to be walking around telling people it came from the World's Strongest Dungeon in Millbrook. When some adventurer in the capital is bragging about their 'Legendary Sword from World's Strongest Dungeon Which Gives Skill Books and Treasures, Situated in Millbrook,' what do you think happens? By the time we're ready to expand, every major power in the continent will know where we are."

He turned from the window, cradling Toby with easy familiarity now, and headed toward the door.

The boy had drifted completely into sleep, his small face peaceful against Viktor's shoulder.

"Come on, little champ," Viktor murmured, more to himself than to the sleeping child. "Let's get you some food. You need to build up your strength."

He made his way down the hallway toward the kitchen, where the smell of cooking vegetables and herbs already wafted through the air.

Mira or Helena was preparing something, as usual.

Toby stirred slightly at the aroma, his nose twitching.

"Eat?" the boy mumbled sleepily, one small hand reaching up to clutch at Viktor's shirt.

"Yeah, buddy. Eat," Viktor confirmed, unable to quite suppress the slight curve of his mouth.

But even as he descended the stairs, his mind was already working several moves ahead.

"Now that I think about it," Viktor said quietly, still carrying Toby down the stone steps, "how many people need to die in that dungeon to boost his intelligence to the equivalent of a ten-year-old?"

[CALCULATION: One intelligence year per eliminated entity. Target age 10 requires 4 additional years.]

[Dungeon subordinate status allows automatic stat distribution. Estimated requirement: 4-5 high-level hunter eliminations, or 10-12 standard-level kills.]

"Ten people. That's feasible," Viktor muttered so casually, as if he weren't talking about killing people. "Very feasible."

[Host should note that distributing stats to non-blood subordinates requires—]

"I don't care about the requirements," Viktor interrupted. "Toby's my son now. That makes him blood enough. Set up whatever protocols you need."

The system flickered, almost as if surprised.

[...Acknowledged. Paternal bond recognized. Subordinate designation: Toby Redwood. Status: Protected. Priority: High.]

"Nice... wait." Suddenly, Viktor realized.

How would he be able to have outdoor sex with his wives openly now that ability-holding bastards would run around the town?

"Fuck..."

"Kyuu~~!!! KYUU~!!" Suddenly, with a bouncing purple glutinous body, the purple slime arrived and started to tell Viktor something, making him halt as he looked, blinked, and said, "Wait, so you mean... we can stay in the dungeon tower itself?"

As Viktor heard that, he realized he already had four wives, so technically all four floors were online and the above floors were naturally empty.

So, as he added a wife, the number of floors would increase, and the floor that would be above all would just be empty space getting pushed up with each addition.

"Woah... fucking inside a dungeon? Now that seems just hot."

"...uking?" Toby mumbled in half-sleep, lifting his head and making Viktor learn the first lesson of fatherhood: keep in mind that before you speak trash, your children will hear it.

"Cooking, my son. I said cooking. Let's go cook something. Hahaha." Viktor closed his eyes as he realized how he needed to be aware of his behavior around his kids. While doing so, he also realized how soon the capital would be in an uproar, and maybe even soldiers marched, and all bullshit, if not for him to tie a knot around the throats of people well.

And while moving toward the kitchen, he recalled the faces of the people he needed to thoroughly teach a lesson.

'Hm, will those Leo's pets come?'

***

The kitchen smelled like heaven.

Fresh herbs sizzled in the pan—rosemary, thyme, and that weird purple leaf Viktor had identified yesterday that made everything taste like butter and clouds had a baby.

His hands moved with practiced ease, knife flashing as he diced vegetables into perfect cubes.

Chop chop chop

Master-level cooking wasn't just about knowing recipes. It was muscle memory. Instinct.

The kind of skill that let him prepare a five-course meal while his brain was still half-asleep and thinking about how thoroughly he'd wrecked his wives last night.

"Pa...pa... food?"

Toby sat at the dining table, his thin legs swinging beneath the chair. His eyes—still a bit vacant, but clearer than before—tracked Viktor's movements with fascination.

"Yeah, buddy. Food's coming." Viktor grabbed the pan, flipping it with a practiced wrist movement. The vegetables soared through the air, rotated perfectly, and landed back in the pan with a satisfying 'sizzle'.

"Woaaah..." Toby's mouth hung open.

Viktor couldn't help the small grin tugging at his lips. Kids were easy to impress.

He plated the food quickly—scrambled eggs with herbs, roasted vegetables, fresh bread he'd baked earlier using Helena's techniques. The kind of meal that would've only be found in royal palace.

Naturally, his cooking skills should be heavenly, but due to the lack of high-quality food items, what he cooked was simply as good as that cooked in royal palaces without the fancy variety.

Viktor set the plate in front of Toby, then immediately tied an apron around his waist.

The purple slime—Rustina—bounced on the table edge, chirping excitedly. '"Kyu kyu!"'

"Yeah, yeah. You already ate your breakfast," Viktor muttered, shooing her away.

He turned back to the stove, hands already reaching for more ingredients. Four more plates to make.

Four wives who'd need to eat after last night's marathon fucking session.

His cock twitched at the memory.

"...Should I just cut it off."

[...Your wives might not agree, Host.]

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