While Monty is out gathering essentials, I’m busy trying to break open the cigarette closet. With a twist of the crowbar, the door creaks open, and I start loading up as many packs as I can fit onto the already crowded trolley.

  Next, I head to the alcohol aisle and spot Corporal Micha?, already stacking his cart high with bottles. I grab a couple of bottles of whiskey and move to the next aisle, where the energy drinks are stocked. I pile as many as possible onto the cart—cigarettes and energy drinks are a soldier’s staple, and we could trade these for all sorts of supplies.

  While I’m stacking the cans, I see something hilarious—Sergeant Freja casually dumps what must be a hundred packs of condoms into Micha?’s cart. I walk up to her and smirk. “Oh, your poor husband.”

  Freja barks out a laugh. “These aren’t for him. They’re for the soldiers back at base. If they can’t keep it in their pants, they might as well do it safely,” she says in her thick Danish accent.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Does that happen a lot?”

  She nods. “More than you’d think. Since our last rotation, twenty soldiers have gotten pregnant, and nine have picked up STDs.” She pulls out a box and shakes her head. “I’m hoping these will make them a little more responsible—at least for a while.”

  That gets me thinking. “Now that I think about it, we got the title Dungeon Summoned Hero when we were brought here. What do people get if they’re born here?”

  She considers it for a moment. “I think they get a different title—Dungeon Native, maybe.”

  With my curiosity satisfied, I leave to find Monty. After wandering the store for a bit, I spot him stocking up on canned food, flour, yeast, and other essentials. I walk over and suggest, “We should grab some fresh fruits and vegetables too.”

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  Monty glances at me. “Why? The main fridge still isn’t repaired.”

  “There are still the ones in the kitchen. And besides, hydroponics is useless without seeds,” I point out.

  Understanding now, Monty heads toward the fresh produce aisle, and I walk alongside him. “I’ll check the book section, see if they have anything on gardening.”

  Monty gives me a look. “You know I used to live on a farm, right? I doubt a book can teach me anything new.”

  I grin. “Yeah, but this isn’t a farm. We won’t have machines to do everything for us. Plus, there might be some useful tips for planting.”

  He shrugs. “Fine, but look for books on home gardening, not farming.”

  I nod and head to the book section. Home Improvement for Beginners? No. Surrounded by Idiots? Hmm. I could give that one to Freja—maybe she’ll pass it along to the General. Gardener’s Encyclopedia—that might be useful. Off-Grid and Urban Homesteading: A Guide to Self-Sustainability! Now with Seeds!

  I flip the book open. The off-grid section covers plant care and even includes a small bag of seeds—potatoes, carrots, and sugar beets. The urban gardening section focuses on growing fruits and above-ground vegetables like tomatoes and snap beans.

  Halfway through, the book takes an interesting turn—homesteading in an apartment. It describes a simple hydroponics setup with vertical towers of leafy greens and flood tables that keep a steady flow of nutrient-rich water over the roots. The best part? More seeds—lettuce, kale, spinach, vine tomatoes, strawberries, and green onions.

  Satisfied, I grab the book, along with the other two, and head back to Monty. He’s in the cookware section, staring at two pans.

  “If you need cookware, take the best—it’s free,” I tell him.

  He nods. “I already did, but I can’t decide—wok or cast iron pan?”

  I glance at his cart, nearly overflowing with groceries, grab the cast iron pan, and stuff it into my duffle bag. “Both. Dude, you don’t have to choose. Just ask—I can still carry a lot.”

  With the pan secured, I show him the book and the seeds inside. While I like the idea of fresh food, Monty looks downright giddy—finally, no more canned meals every single day. He tucks the book into his backpack.

  Now it’s time to find Freja and Micha?. When we track them down, they definitely look ready to go—carts piled high with booze, condoms, hygiene products, and movies.

  “Ready to head back to base?” I ask.

  Micha?, his slight Polish accent coming through, nods. “Yes, we are ready.”

  With that, we make our way to the entrance, open the shutters, and step back into the dungeon corridors.