According to the navigation map, the city’s sewer layout was as intricate as a spider’s web—likely several times more complex than surface streets. In short, they could reach almost any point in the city underground.

Good news.

Rather, this was probably the dungeon’s intended path.

Early-game players had little strength. Gear was limited to basic weapons—daggers, firearms—and effectiveness depended entirely on skill. Throwing an overly tough dungeon at this stage made no sense, especially since this one was officially marked [Low].

Forcing them to travel above ground to the rescue point would clearly break that standard.

Don’t be fooled by zombie movies where heroes mow down hordes effortlessly. In reality, 99.99% of ordinary people would become the ones getting mowed down—not the invincible protagonist.

Even with the threat level dialed down, the same held true.

So offering a relatively safer shortcut fit the dungeon’s difficulty perfectly.

Of course, players still had to use their heads—like grabbing a nav map before things went south. Otherwise, they wouldn’t even know where the rescue point was, let alone the sewer routes.

Xia Xinyan’s group got lucky. The nav showed a sewer entrance in the alley right beside the inn—just steps away. But taking those steps? No small challenge.

The streets swarmed with infected. Opening the door would instantly draw them in.

“So? Charge straight through?” Fatty glanced at the others.

Murong Yue chimed in immediately: “Why don’t *you* go draw fire while we lift the manhole cover? You’re the tanky one—you can take a hit.”

“Buzz off,” Fatty shot her a glare.

Another hit like that, and he’d be down for the count.

“Just go out,” Ling Mo suggested. “Even if a few notice us, we’ll be safe once we reach the sewers.”

He doubted the sewers were swarming too.

Xia Xinyan nodded. “Let’s do it. Sometimes the simplest solution is the most effective.”

“Fine.” Fatty unlocked the door. “Old Ling, you’re the only one with a big gun—cover us.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it.” Ling Mo chambered a round and readied his rifle.

Opening the door didn’t alert the infected outside. But once the four slipped out, the nearest one on the street let out a guttural cry and charged.

This time, Ling Mo didn’t hesitate. He aimed at its torso and fired. The bullet pierced through; stopping power sent it tumbling—then—

BOOM—!!

The body exploded, splattering gore that painted the area in crimson mist. Seconds later, remains and mist vanished, leaving only a shallow crater over a meter wide and cracked ground.

Fatty froze. “Holy crap—that’s kinda broken!”

Did they pack a bomb inside?!

“Stop gawking—move!” Ling Mo barked, dropping two more infected while retreating cautiously into the alley.

The first explosion had drawn nearby infected. More were converging. Every extra second doubled their danger.

Xia Xinyan and Murong Yue reached the manhole. It wasn’t sealed, but its weight made barehanded lifting tough.

After failed tries, Fatty squeezed forward. “Make way! Leave it to the pro!”

Xia Xinyan stepped aside to help Ling Mo. The alley’s narrow width worked in their favor—the explosions created temporary barriers, buying precious seconds.

Still, the blasts were wrecking the walls. A few more, and the alley might collapse.

Thankfully, Fatty lived up to his bulk. Face flushed with strain, he heaved the cover aside.

The stench nearly knocked Murong Yue backward as she peered down.

“…This reeks!” She covered her nose, stepping back in disgust. “No way—we’re walking *ten kilometers* through this?”

“Prefer getting blown up by lunatics?” Fatty glanced at the closing horde, pinched his nose, and dove in.

Murong Yue hesitated for seconds, then reluctantly followed. “I must be out of my mind to play this game…”

Meanwhile, Xia Xinyan shot another infected bursting from the mist. Her pistol clicked empty. She dropped it and sprinted. “Mo Mo! Go!”

“Got it…” Ling Mo backed toward the entrance, rifle aimed at the haze. “You first. I’ll cover rear.”

Xia Xinyan cut him off. “*You* go first!”

She’d reloaded; his rifle was likely dry. The long gun slowed him. Climbing down took seconds—enough for a suicide bomber to get up close. He was in greater danger.

Ling Mo stalled. “No, you—”

His magazine clicked empty.

“Get down *now*!” An infected lunged within meters. Xia Xinyan gritted her teeth, yanked him behind her, and raised her pistol. “Trying to die together with me?!”

How could he be so reckless?! Heroics needed timing! Would thinking once kill him?!

—This was the first time she’d spoken to Ling Mo so sharply.

But like him, she took games seriously—especially *Realm of Divine Descent*, a game tied to their future. Normally, she’d play along with his antics. Not here. One misstep meant total party wipe.

She was dead serious.

And it startled him.

Like a student scolded by a teacher to “go do your homework,” her tone triggered instinctive obedience. He holstered his gun, turned, and scrambled down. “You hurry too…”

Another infected burst through the mist—now mere meters away.

Pistol stopping power was weak. Even a clean shot wouldn’t save her from the blast.

So Xia Xinyan skipped convention.

Her pupils flashed crimson. She seized control. The infected halted inches before her—then spun and charged back into the haze. Distant explosions boomed.

Then…

The walls collapsed.

Unable to endure more blasts, the alley crumbled under the final straw, threatening to bury them all.

Xia Xinyan’s eyes widened. She spun and leaped into the sewer—

—and landed squarely on Ling Mo still climbing the ladder. Together, they tumbled into a heap of trash below.