“Hey you, hold up!”

In no mood to chatter to the fools who’d stolen my kill, I almost didn’t look up. But the cry had come from up ahead, not behind me.

Glancing up, I saw that not all the players from the uninvited party had rushed to the scorpion’s corpse. A smaller company remained atop the hill. A gnome there was hailing me, his arms swinging wildly as he tried to gain my attention.

My lips thinned. Now, what does he want? But I wasn’t interested enough to find out. Lowering my head, I altered my course to avoid the players.

Unfortunately, my attempted evasion didn't work. After a whispered conversation amongst themselves, the entire group hurried down the dune on an intercept course.

“Stop, please!” the gnome called out as he drew closer. I didn't stop, but I did analyze him.

The target is Genmark, a level 125 gnomish ward architect.

My brows crinkled at the unusual-sounding Class. It still wasn’t enough to make me want to talk to him, though, and I angled away again.

The gnome did not take the hint.

Drawing up alongside me, Genmark shot me curious glances. For a second, I worried his intentions might be nefarious, but no, the rest of his group was hanging back. If they were going to attack, the players wouldn’t send one of their own into easy range of my blade.

They might not mean me harm, but they’re still scavs. But before I could decide how to get rid of the gnome, another Game message dropped into my mind.

You have passed a mental resistance check! Genmark has failed to analyze you.

My lips twitched in amusement at the gnome’s failure. He had to realize I possessed deception—a skill that most other players seemed to despise. Perhaps, it will be enough to scare him off.

Sadly not.

“We caught the tail-end of your fight,” Genmark said brightly. He paused, waiting for a response.

I looked resolutely ahead.

“You were quite impressive,” Genmark said, forging on bravely. “I’ve never seen anyone take on a giant rock scorpion alone before. Weren’t you scared?”

Ignoring the question, I sped up, leaving the smaller player behind.

But only for a moment.

Breaking out in a run, Genmark caught up with me again. Whatever he wants, he’s persistent, I’ll give him that.

“Look, I understand you’re angry,” the gnome panted. He gestured to the players gathered around the scorpion. “I tried to tell them not to steal your kill. But they wouldn't listen.” He shrugged. “You know how players are sometimes.”

“I do,” I said, finally speaking. “So you would do well to leave me alone.”

Even the thinly veiled threat did not deter Genmark. “I have a proposition for you. Or at least my party does.”

“Not interested,” I said tersely.

“We’re all ranged casters, you see,” the gnome said, going on as if I hadn’t spoken. “We can't take on any of the dungeon creatures ourselves, not without a melee fighter of our own. That's why we joined the group down there.” He looked at me pleadingly. “But if you join us… we wouldn't need them. We can tackle the monsters on our own.”

“I'm no tank,” I growled. “And like I said—not interested.”

“Why not?” Genmark asked sincerely. “I can’t tell your level, but if you're here, you must need the experience, and I promise you you'll get a fair share of the loot. Even better, we can make it difficult for others to disrupt our hunts.”

Although I found the last bit intriguing, I wasn't tempted. The quicker I got out of the dungeon, the better, and there was no way I was going to trust a random group of players. Reaching the top of the hill, I turned right, walking along the ridgeline.

Genmark kept following. “What can I do to convince you?”

He’s not going to give up, I thought. Not unless I make him.

Jerking to a halt, I spun around to face the gnome. “Listen carefully, Genmark,” I hissed. “I will not—”

I broke off, noticing a distant speck on the horizon.

I almost ignored it, thinking it was another desert raptor. But then my mind caught up with what my instincts were telling me: the far-off figure was too small for one of the dungeon’s flying monsters. Narrowing my gaze, I scrutinized the shape more closely.

It was small, round, and green.

A hunter eye.

The color drained from my face. Taking my sudden silence as a positive sign, Genmark began pleading his case again. Ignoring him, I slowly ran my gaze from left to right, scanning the dungeon. There was no way a hunter eye’s appearance could be a coincidence.

Somewhere in the dungeon, there was a mantis.

Or two.

It did not take me long enough to spot the pair of green-clad figures. Making no attempt to disguise their presence, the assassins stood sentry atop the dunes ringing the safe zone.

It was Wengulax and Gintalush.

I beat back the urge to retreat back down the dune. No need to panic—yet. They can’t see me. From where I stood, I could barely make out the two figures. And after our previous encounters, I was sure the mantises' senses were not as sharp as mine.

My gaze flew back to the hunter eye. It was midway between me and the safe zone and seemed to be flying in a search pattern. Now that I looked more closely, I saw that it was not alone. There were other hunter eyes about, but unlike the first one I’d spotted, the rest remained in the safe zone, circling high overhead.

The assassins’ strategy was becoming clear. The pair were using the screen of hunter eyes to supplement their own senses and guard the dungeon’s exit portal.

Which meant they had to know for sure I was here.

But how?

Facial disguise hid my features, and the scent protection crystal did the same for my smell. So if it was not by sight or smell, how had mantises tracked me from the knights’ citadel?

I had no idea.

God dammit, I ground out. Are they using some sort of spell to find me? Am I never going to escape these two? How do I—

My internal monologue ran aground as I saw the hunter eye break off from its slow, careful drift through the dungeon and accelerate on a straight-line path… directly towards me.

I paled further. Now, why has it done that?

My eyes darted left and right, searching for somewhere to hide, but the dungeon’s harsh light meant there were few shadows about.

Hiding would be all but impossible.

My gaze swung back to the hunter eye. It had slowed down and was moving more tentatively now, but it had not veered off course and, moment by moment, drew closer.

I gripped the hilt of my sword. If I can’t hide, then I’ll fight, I thought grimly.

The hunter eye sped up.

My eyes narrowed. It was almost as if… as if it had heard my mindvoice.

I stilled, a new and more startling thought occurring. Could the hunter eyes track my consciousness, seeing me the way I saw others with my mindsight?

It was certainly possible. Wasting no further time, I cast mind shield, wrapping my consciousness in steel-like protective bands of psi.

Your psi pool has been transformed into a mind shield. While the shield remains active, all your psi abilities are unavailable.

The moment my spell completed, the hunter eye lurched to a halt.

It stayed like that, hanging motionless in the air for what felt like an eternity, before eventually wandering off to resume its search pattern. I exhaled a slow, relieved breath. That had been too close.

“Are you even listening to me?” Genmark yelled suddenly. He’d been babbling at me all along, I noted absently.

“No,” I replied, not even looking at him as I tracked the retreating hunter eye with my gaze.

Now that the immediate danger had passed, it occurred to me to wonder why this hunter eye was the only one searching the dungeon. Wouldn’t the mantises have been better served by sending out all the hunter eyes to sweep the dungeon?

I scanned the dungeon’s skies again but failed to spot any more of the mechanical devices outside the safe zone. I frowned, not sure what to make of it.

Just then, a raptor dived out of the clear blue sky to snap up the green orb I’d been watching, eating it in a single gulp.

I grinned. I had my answer.

In fact, as my gaze swept the crowded dungeon, I realized that despite the lack of shadows, the mantises would not have an easy time finding me. In the dunes, I was one amongst thousands, and as long as I stayed in the dunes, the odds of Wengalux and Gintalush finding me were low. The pair dare not leave the safe zone themselves. If they did that, I would be able to sneak past.

Still, the mantises’ tactics were effective. While they and their hunter eyes stood guard over the safe zone, I was trapped in the dungeon.

I swung back abruptly to Genmark. “I’ll do it,” I said.

He blinked in confusion. “Do what?”

“I'll join your party,” I replied.

I might not be able to escape the dungeon undetected by the assassins, but I could wait them out.

~~~

While Genmark and his group—ten players in all—readied themselves, I descended to the base of the dune again.

The scavs were long gone, having cleaned out the scorpion’s corpse and loot chest already. Out of sight of the safe zone, I saw to my own preparations: renewing my disguise, meditating, and investing my new attribute point.

Your meditation has increased to level 73.

Your Mind has increased to rank 49.

When I was done, I joined my new party. “How do you want to do this?” I asked Genmark, ignoring the glances the rest of the group were throwing me.

“Let's find a monster spawn closer to the center of the—” he began.

“No,” I said, cutting him off.

He looked at me curiously.

“It's better to stay here, around the edges where the crowds are sparser,” I explained.

It wasn’t the crowds I worried about, of course. It was the mantises. Gintalush had seen through my lesser imitate spell once and would probably be able to pierce my facial disguise illusion just as easily.

Then, there was also the analyze ability to worry about, too.

If by some misfortune, the mantises chose me out of the thousands of players in the dungeon to analyze, they would either uncover my identity or realize I was a deception player.

Neither outcome was desirable.

“Hmm, alright,” Genmark replied. “There are spawns aplenty near the barrier too.”

I inclined my head, grateful he’d not chosen to argue the point.

“Move out,” the gnome called out to the group as he began to trace a slow circuit along the dungeon’s outskirts. I kept pace beside him while the others followed in our wake.

“What should we call you?” Genmark asked suddenly.

I shot him a questioning look.

“None of us have been able to analyze you,” Genmark explained. “And I don’t want to shout, ‘hey human!’ every time I need you,” he added with a grin. “So, what should we call you?"

“Uhm,” I said, rubbing my chin in thought. “Mika will do.”

“Mika it is,” Genmark said, eyes twinkling.

The gnome obviously knew the name I’d given him was an alias. He didn’t belabor the point, though, and I turned back to the dunes ahead. They appeared empty, but I didn’t trust to that.

The slain scorpion had appeared at the edges of my mindsight as if from nowhere, and if one monster could do that, then so could others. It got me wondering how the creatures spawned. “When will they run out?” I asked absently.

Genmark’s face grew puzzled. “Run out?”

“The dungeon creatures, I mean. How many will we have to kill before the dungeon is cleared?”

“Ah,” Genmark said, understanding dawning on his face. “This is your first time here, I take it?” He didn't wait for my response but went on, “The scorching dunes is different from other dungeons. It has no sector boss, and it produces an endless spawn of monsters.”

Wondering if he was joking, I turned to stare at him. But there was no hint of a smile on the gnome’s face. “Endless?” I asked disbelievingly.

Genmark nodded. “The Game notice when you entered the dungeon should have told you as much.”

Now that Genmark mentioned it, I recalled mention of the dungeon spawn rate being defined as ‘continuous,’ but distracted by the heat and crowds, I hadn’t given much thought to what it meant.

“It’s what draws the crowds, you know,” the gnome added.

“Oh?”

“Truly. For lower-leveled players like ourselves—” Genmark waved his arms to take in his entire party—“the scorching dunes offers a sure means of advancing. Of course, it has its downsides too. For one, the loot is horrendous; for another, the dungeon’s open design and continuous spawning nature make the risk of a party being overrun high. In fact, if not for the ever-present army of players that keep the monster population at a manageable level, this dungeon would be impossible.” He chuckled. “So you see, we should all be grateful for the crowds.”

I wasn’t sure I agreed, but I took his point. “I guess. Still, if it weren’t for—”

I broke off. Up ahead, something was wriggling free of the sands. “I think we’ve found our first prey,” I said, gesturing to the disturbance.

Genmark squinted in the direction I pointed. “Well spotted! You have good eyes, Mika.” Rubbing his hands together in glee, the gnome swung back to the party. “Alright, people, let's go bag a monster!”