[ARMI - PERIMETER ALERT]

  Breach Detected: Main Entrance

  Entity Count: 4

  Classification: Adventurer Party (B-Rank)

  Threat Level: Moderate

  Estimated Combat Power: 65

  ETA to Floor 1: 12 minutes

  Victor studied the Core's sensor display, watching four figures emerge from the forest path. Better equipped than the Silver Lance. More coordinated in their movements. Professional.

  "Sniv," Victor said. "Status report."

  The goblin materialized beside him, clipboard clutched in his clawed hands. "Traps reset, Boss. Krog team in position. Zip finish new smoke bombs yesterday. Asterion..." Sniv hesitated. "Asterion still reading contract."

  "Still?"

  "He like dental section. Read three times."

  Victor filed that away. Employee satisfaction metrics were always useful.

  He turned his attention to the approaching party, pulling up more detailed analysis through his connection with the Core.

  

  [ARMI - PARTY ANALYSIS: Iron Wolves (B-Rank)]

  

  
• Gareth (Leader): Swordsman, Level 14. Aggressive combat style. Arrogance metrics: High.


  
• Mira (Support): Mage, Level 13. Cautious, analytical. Threat assessment: Highest.


  
• Bron (Tank): Defender, Level 15. Professional, minimal engagement. Reliable.


  
• Tessa (DPS): Rogue, Level 11. Recent promotion. First B-Rank dungeon. Nervous.


  

  Four adventurers. Combined threat level higher than the Silver Lance. But also higher revenue potential.

  Victor calculated quickly. Previous dungeon average: 15 GP per party from loot drops and equipment recovery. Target for Core proof: 22.5 GP minimum. Bonus threshold: 30 GP.

  One party. One chance. Prove the model or lose the partnership.

  "This is our demonstration," Victor said quietly. "Everything we've built leads to this moment."

  Sniv nodded, understanding the gravity even if he didn't understand the mathematics.

  Then Victor's eyes caught something in the display. Mira the Mage, studying the corridor before advancing. The way she analyzed the environment. The caution. The intelligence.

  She reminds you of someone.

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  The Core's display showed the Iron Wolves advancing through Floor 1. Twelve minutes had become eight. He'd lost time—lost in memories he'd thought he'd buried along with his old life.

  "Boss?" Sniv was watching him with concern. "Orders?"

  He pulled up the tactical overview. Four adventurers at various positions. Gareth in front, leading with aggressive confidence. Mira second, scanning for traps. Bron covering rear. Tessa somewhere in the middle, trying to look calm and failing.

  "Krog," Victor said, his voice projecting into the guard room through the internal scrying network.

  The burly goblin leader straightened up, his hand going to the hilt of his iron-bound mace. "Yes, Boss?"

  "The Iron Wolves are entering the primary corridor. This is a Tier 1-B engagement. I want the initial pressure trap on Floor One to be triggered manually. Do not aim for the feet—aim for the shields. I want them loud. I want them startled. But I want them intact."

  "Startle, not smash?" Krog asked, confused.

  "Exactly. We are establishing an atmosphere of extreme danger without actually delivering the blow. It's a classic psychological anchoring technique. If they walk in and nothing happens, they get cautious. If they walk in and nearly get hit by a swinging log, they get scared. And scared people make irrational financial decisions."

  "Sniv," Victor added, turning to the COO. "Ensure the sound emitters are active on Floor Two. I want the sound of a large predator. Something that sounds like it has more teeth than a budget meeting."

  "Sniv make big roar!" the goblin promised, scribbling on his clipboard.

  "And remember," Victor’s voice lowered, becoming a cold, focused rasp. "No kills. We are proving a sustainable revenue model today. A dead explorer is a one-time liquidation. A terrified survivor is a marketing asset."

  The old way would be simpler. Four deaths meant equipment recovery, body loot, approximately 60 GP in value. Well above any target. The Core would be satisfied. Victor's partnership would be secured.

  All he had to do was let them die.

  But that wasn't the model he'd pitched. And somewhere deep, beneath the spreadsheets and the calculations, Victor remembered what it cost when numbers forgot they were people.

  "No kills," Victor said. His voice was flat. Final. "We do this my way."

  Sniv hesitated. "But Boss... if we fail—"

  "We won't." Victor turned to face the tactical display fully. His mind was already running scenarios, calculating approach vectors, identifying psychological leverage points.

  "Gareth is arrogant. Probably came up through the Guild's fast-track program—lots of success, not much failure. He'll take any bait that feeds his ego. Challenge him, and he'll charge in without thinking."

  He pointed at Mira's indicator on the display.

  "The mage is intelligent. She's already noticed the trap layout is unusual. She'll see value where others see threats—show her profit potential, not danger. Make her feel like she's discovering an opportunity."

  "The tank follows orders; don't waste energy on him. He'll do whatever Gareth tells him, or whatever Mira convinces Gareth to do."

  Victor's voice slowed as he reached the final member of the party.

  "And the young one..."

  Tessa. Level 11. First B-Rank dungeon. Nervous hands. Quick eyes. Reminded him of junior analysts at his old firm—bright, ambitious, too new to know how the game really worked.

  Tessa. Level 11. First B-Rank dungeon. Nervous.

  "The young one lives," Victor said. "That's non-negotiable."

  Sniv didn't understand. Neither did Victor, entirely.

  But somewhere deep, beneath the restructurer's cold logic, a dead man remembered photographs of children.

  And refused to add to the count.