Golden chains burst from the ground like angry, glowing snakes, each one thick enough to hold down a ship in a storm.
They didn't glide or float, they shot upward with the kind of confidence only holy magic or tax notices usually have.
The first chain wrapped around the creature's torso.
Another coiled around its tail.
Three more snapped around its legs.
One especially rude chain hooked its broken jaw and yanked it shut like someone slamming a stubborn fridge door.
Before the creature even understood what was happening, the chains tightened all at once.
Boom!
The T-rex hit the floor so hard dust jumped up around it.
There was no heroic struggle, no dramatic twist, no final stand.
It went down fast and ugly, like a giant lizard rug being thrown into place.
It growled, weak, pained, and full of complaints.
If monsters could file lawsuits, this one would've started writing with its claws.
Its day had truly become legendary in all the wrong ways.
Two of its hatchlings eaten, jaw smashed, pride ruined, and now tied up like someone's oversized pet problem.
It felt wronged.
Deeply wronged. Maybe even spiritually wronged.
While it lay there trembling, only a few inches from Dio's limp body, the dungeon went quiet again.
Then—
Footsteps.
Slow. Steady. Cold.
The kind of footsteps that said whoever was coming wasn't in the mood for nonsense.
The footsteps stopped right beside the chained creature, and its one good eye twitched upward.
A woman stepped into view, calm, glowing, and very obviously not bothered by the giant murder-lizard tied up like a festival goat.
Her long blond hair fell down her back in smooth waves, and her golden eyes were like stars that lit up the dim dungeon like tiny suns.
She wore a white dress that somehow stayed spotless in this filthy place.
And, well… her chest was that perfect middle ground that made both extremes jealous.
Not small, not large, just right, in a very distracting way the creature absolutely did not appreciate in its current situation.
She walked past the monster without sparing it a glance, her beauty sharp enough that even the dungeon air felt shy.
When she reached Dio, a frown tugged at her lips.
"The poison has already sunk deep… ridiculous," she muttered.
She crouched down beside him, graceful and soft.
She looked entirely too composed for someone staring at a half-dead, naked man painted green with toxic slime.
Her golden eyes narrowed.
"How did this idiot survive for so long?"
As if testing whether he was actually alive or just doing a very dramatic death pose, she reached out and poked his cheek with one slender finger.
His head rolled to the side like a limp ragdoll.
She sighed.
"Unbelievable."
"This guy…" she whispered, eyes widening as she leaned closer.
"He… is he even human?"
She touched his arm, then his neck, then lightly pressed his ribs.
Her frown deepened each time.
No mana. No awakening. No magical resistance at all.
And yet, besides the mangled right arm, his body was practically untouched.
Meanwhile, his skin kept turning greener by the second.
Even his lips were taking on a sickly jade shade, like he was trying to cosplay as a six armed zombie.
She stared at him in disbelief.
"That gas can kill a B-rank hunter in seconds… and this idiot stayed inside long enough to write his will," she muttered.
"How is he still breathing?"
His breath was weak. His pulse was fading.
His complexion looked like someone dipped him in paint.
Her shock shifted into something heavier.
"No… he won't survive like this."
Her hand slid into the small pouch at her waist. She froze.
"But do I really… have to use that?"
Hesitation flickered in her eyes.
This was not a healing potion, but an elixir, the true, potent kind that only manifests within S-rank dungeons.
The kind worth more than half a city block.
The kind hunters killed each other for.
And she had only one.
Only one.
She stared at Dio again.
He looked like he'd challenged life, death, and fashion all in the same hour, and somehow mostly won.
Even half-dead, poisoned, naked, and green, his face looked… annoyingly perfect.
Sharp jawline. Smooth skin. Thick lashes. And his body, well, if he wasn't dying, she'd have accused him of showing off.
She gulped.
Hard.
"If you were ugly I'd have left you here," she muttered, cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink.
"You should be grateful you're handsome… or I wouldn't be doing this."
She crouched lower, sighing like someone preparing to sacrifice a priceless treasure.
"Haa..."
She let out a long, world-weary sigh, then snapped her fingers.
A small glass vial appeared in her hand, shimmering faintly.
Inside it sloshed a deep red liquid, thick, rich, and worth more than the GDP of a small country.
"Be grateful, kid," she muttered as she popped the lid open. " I'm giving you this chance."
She hesitated for a moment, then tilted the vial and poured half of the liquid into her mouth.
Her face went stiff instantly.
She sighed, muttering, "…and it's also my first time kissing someone."
Her cheeks tightened with embarrassment. "But I have to kiss him to transfer the elixir."
But she could've just slid the liquid in with the bottle, no?
So why exactly is she kissing him to make him drink it?
Anyways, she leaned in, closing the distance between her lips and Dio's.
She looked oddly excited, her lips stretching as she moved toward him, but…
Then—
She froze.
Her eyes widened.
She jerked back so fast her hair almost slapped the chained monster.
"Ahhh—nasty!" She gagged slightly, hand covering her mouth.
"This smell… what did he eat?! Poison? Old socks? Did he chew on the dungeon floor?!"
She tapped her chest, trying not to throw up the priceless elixir she was still holding in her mouth.
It was lucky, very lucky, she hadn't swallowed it.
Her golden eyes narrowed at Dio like he'd personally offended her ancestors.
"This idiot… even unconscious he's causing problems."
With another snap of her fingers, a small, elegant perfume bottle blinked into existence in her hand.
The kind used by nobles who spent too much money on smelling fancy.
She uncapped it, aimed with zero hesitation, and sprayed.
Pshhh—pshhh—pshhhh.
Once on his mouth.
Once inside his mouth.
Twice more for safety.
"There. At least now your breath won't kill me." She muttered the words while shaking her head.
The entire area took on a sudden whiff of roses and mint.
But couldn't you just make him drink the liquid instead of kissing him? Why are you so excited?
Anyways, only after emptying half the perfume did she lean back in, preparing herself for round two of "saving a stranger in the most awkward way possible."
Her tongue brushed nervously across her lips as she stared at him, a faint blush warming her cheeks.
Then, like someone diving into a cold lake out of sheer stubbornness, she leaned in and pressed her mouth against his.
The elixir slid from her lips into his, then down his throat in a smooth, practiced motion.
The life-saving transfer was done. Mission accomplished. She could've pulled back right then.
But she did not.
For some baffling reason her body refused to move.
Her face grew warmer and warmer until it felt like someone had set a lantern behind her skin.
The moment stretched.
Even as Dio's complexion shifted from Zombie-like green to something recognizably human again, she stayed there.
Frozen. Mortified. Yet rooted in place, as if spellbound by some humiliating gravitational field.
Then Dio's eyelids fluttered.
They snapped open.
Two bright golden eyes filled his entire vision.
For a fraction of a second his recovering brain tried to process the situation, then leapt to an entirely different conclusion.
Panic detonated inside him.
Through a mouth still occupied, he tried to scream.
"Ya—lazard—!"
The woman jerked back like she'd been electrocuted, realizing exactly how this must look.
Her entire face went the shade of a strawberry dipped in pure embarrassment.
"Kyaaaa!"
Her hand sprang up on reflex, an instinctive, mortified slap driven by shock rather than intent.
Thud.
The blow was very strong, even though Dio had a stronger body, still he couldn't bear the hit.
Dio's world spun, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
The dungeon echoed with the quiet, delicate aftermath of chaos.
The woman stared at her own hand, horrified.
"…I just saved him… and then immediately knocked him out."
She squatted down beside his unconscious form, face buried in her palms.
She mumbled to herself, barely audible, "Do I need to repeat it again…?"
She'd never admit it out loud, not even under torture, but her first kiss had felt… embarrassingly good.
But then she noticed the change.
The green tint was gone.
The poison's grip had loosened and vanished.
Only the thick, awkward embarrassment lingered in the stale, perfume-tinged air, heavy enough to slice in half with a rusty dagger.
She let out a quiet sigh and glanced down at him again.
"You should consider yourself lucky, kid, that someone like me kissed you."