The Duke's youngest son is so Unbearable

Looking up at the cave ceiling, I thought,

"What a dumb way to get killed. I mean, I probably could've survived, but my dumb ass just had to play the hero."

Sigh…

"I can still feel the pain, even in the 'afterlife'—or whatever this is."

"Wait, didn't I get shot in my right chest? Why do I feel pain in my left, then?"

Feeling for it, I thought,

"Yep, I do feel pain in my left chest, but I don't feel much in my right... so what's up with that?"

I tried to lift my arm to see what happened, but I couldn't—it felt too heavy.

"What the…" I gasped as I tried to look at my chest. I could see the head of a certain creature looking at me.

For a moment, my mind went blank. I couldn't think straight—or even think at all. Then it hit me.

"Aaaaaa!"

I screamed, but my voice came out hoarse.

I tried to get up instinctively, but it was too hard, as if my whole body was too heavy.

But somehow, with difficulty, I got up.

"Maybe it's the adrenaline coursing through my veins," I thought as I finally managed to stand.

As I got up, I started running—well, more like slowly walking—but as I was getting used to moving, I felt something.

"A warmth is spreading from my chest," I realized. "I can feel it, but I don't have time for that right now."

The only thing I cared about was getting out of here—or at least moving somewhere far from here.

I didn't even take a good look at what I saw or where I was.

"Nope. I've seen enough horror movies to realize that if you're too curious in an obviously bad situation, then you're probably the guy that gets killed in the intro of the movie. And I definitely don't want to be that guy."

Plus, as a true Batman fan, of course, I have contingency plans. Many of them, actually.

"What are they? Glad you asked."

"One is for what if a zombie outbreak happens.

Another is for what if everyone disappeared from the world except me and"—I grinned to myself—"four girls. (Five? No, only four is halal.)

And definitely one for what if our school gets attacked by some terrorists and I awaken my secret superpower that I always had."

"Kekeke…"

As I was running aimlessly in a random direction, I suddenly felt weird.

"What is this? I feel like I'm going to fall asleep."

Stumbling, I took a few steps and fell down.

"What the…"

As I fell asleep, I didn't realize I had many small and big wounds on my body—wounds that were visibly starting to heal.

Outside a dungeon gate, a crimson-haired young man was standing, his arms folded, his eyes narrow, and his face expressionless.

There was an invisible yet visible aura around him that prevented anyone from approaching him casually.

Looking at him, Vice Principal David Johnson sighed and thought,

"Why can't anything go right this year? Why does everything have to be so chaotic? First the opening ceremony, and now this."

He couldn't help but question his luck.

All around him, there were people discussing, people watching as if they were seeing an interesting show, or just enjoying the chaos.

Looking at all that, he sighed again.

Sigh…

"I have to talk to him and see what can be done," he thought.

Frankly, David really wanted no part of what was happening right now. But as the vice principal, he couldn't ignore such things—especially when it involved the possible death of the youngest son of the archduke.

And he also couldn't ignore the young man standing in front of the dungeon gate. The youngest sword saint of the Flash Blade style in history—and the eldest son of the aforementioned archduke.

Thinking about that gave him another headache.

Without any choice, David walked up to the young man. The aura around the young man didn't disperse, but David walked through it anyway and stood beside him.

For a moment, they both stayed silent, looking at the yellow portal that was the gate to the dungeon.

Then David broke the silence as he spoke.

"Standing in front of the gate won't open it any faster. Why don't you rest for a while?"

The young man kept staring at the gate as if he didn't hear anything, completely ignoring David.

David, not minding, continued.

"Many times, these types of situations happen. Those ether core binders are always unreliable for knowing if someone is okay or not, especially in cases involving dungeons."

This was true. An ether core binder could be used to know if someone was alive or dead. As long as someone's ether core was intact, the binder would be active. If someone died—or their ether core was destroyed—then the binder would lose its effect, and everyone would know. But since a dungeon was involved, no one could be certain. There were cases where dungeons affected the binders.

"But the problem in this case," David said, "is that only your brother's binder has lost its effect. Everyone else's is fine, so it's unlikely that it's a dungeon problem."

Looking at the young man, David added,

"Even if something did happen to your brother, there's nothing anyone can do. Casualties in dungeons aren't new—even in a yellow-ranked dungeon. After all, anything can happen in a dungeon."

The young man finally reacted. He glanced at David from the corner of his eye and said,

"Do you know how talented I am, Vice Principal?"

David answered, "Of course. Everyone knows about your talent."

The young man said,

"My grandfather often says that my younger brother is more talented than me. The only reason he isn't where I was at his age is because he's too lazy to put in so much effort.

But he's still stronger than most in his age group. He's already cleared three yellow-ranked dungeons before."

"Accidents can happen," David said.

"Perhaps," the young man said, still looking at the gate, "but if my brother doesn't come out of this dungeon safely, then I want an investigation."

David narrowed his eyes and asked,

"What are you implying? That some students are possibly trying to harm your brother?"

"Maybe," the young man replied. "After all, just as you said, anything can happen in a dungeon. And if it did happen, then…"

He didn't continue, but the unspoken threat was undeniable.

Normally, David would dismiss such words as a brother showing concern for his sibling. But as he saw everyone looking at them with various expressions, he couldn't let these words slide. They could be used against him and the principal politically for various purposes.

So David, in a deep voice, spoke.

"Is that a threat, Arthur Emroy Crimson?"

Arthur, giving him a side glance, looked back at the gate and said,

"The Crimson family does not give threats.

It's a warning."