— Creamy.

  — Yes, sir.

  — This place… it’s moving, isn’t it?

  — Correct. The labyrinth is alive.

  — Every step you take, it adjusts to corner you.

  Souta smiled.

  — So it’s like playing chess against a board that hates to lose.

  — I like that.

  The walls slid.

  Columns rose from the ground.

  The ceiling dropped a few centimeters.

  The space was closing in.

  Two crawling demons emerged from the cracks.

  Thin bodies, blades instead of arms.

  Hungry red eyes.

  Souta raised the spoon.

  — Dinner time.

  The first lunged.

  Souta spun aside.

  The spoon cut the air.

  The demon shattered into dust.

  The second tried to strike from behind.

  Souta didn’t even look.

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  — Creamy, position?

  — Behind you, sir.

  Souta swung the spoon backward without turning.

  A sharp impact.

  The demon dissolved.

  The walls trembled.

  More columns surged upward.

  This time, five demons leapt at once.

  — Sir, recommendation: conserve your mana.

  — Consumption is 12% above regeneration.

  Souta laughed.

  — Then I’ll save it…

  — By using only my fists.

  He sheathed the spoon.

  The first demon came down with a vertical strike.

  Souta caught the blade with his bare hand.

  Bzzzzz.

  The sword crumbled into pieces.

  He grinned.

  With a pull, he snapped the creature’s arm.

  And smashed it against the wall.

  Two came in sequence.

  Souta leapt.

  Kicked the first in the jaw.

  Spun midair.

  Stomped the chest of the second, crushing it to the floor.

  The other two hesitated.

  Souta spread his arms wide.

  — Come.

  They charged.

  And fell.

  The ground shook.

  The walls slid again.

  Now, dozens of eyes appeared across the crystal surfaces.

  Watching.

  Judging.

  — Creamy.

  — Is this a surveillance spell?

  — Correct.

  — The caster is watching.

  — And laughing at your resistance.

  Souta’s smile widened.

  — Perfect.

  — Then I’ll give him a show.

  The walls pressed closer.

  The ceiling dropped faster.

  Columns erupted in sequence, trying to crush him.

  Souta ran.

  Dodged.

  Leapt.

  Spun.

  Every movement was a dance.

  Every strike, a taunt.

  The entire labyrinth seemed intent on crushing him.

  But Souta laughed.

  — Sir… your mana has dropped to 60%.

  — At this rate, you’ll run out before finding the exit.

  — Creamy…

  — You still don’t understand?

  He stopped in the center of the corridor.

  Looked upward.

  Smile radiant.

  — I don’t want to leave.

  — I want to break.