We walk into the now-finished hydroponics and look at the growing towers and floodbeds. While I don't know much about growing plants, Monty has been studying the books and making a plan for what each plant needs. I took a peek at his notebook but got lost after he started writing about how long strawberries need light. I thought we could just forget about it after planting, but apparently, we need to do a lot of configuration before we can let it run on its own.

  I go to the terminal, turn it on, and click on Industrial Hydroponics.

  After we got our first ally, we unlocked the option to share the crafting specs with them. As I click on Share, a small tray opens at the front of the computer, ejecting a small, flat object that looks like an SD card—partially made of crystal. I look at the weird, futuristic SD card before turning to Monty.

  "Are you going to come? I'm about to give Freja the crafting specs."

  Monty continues working on a timer a bit longer before answering, "Alright, this one is done. Only eighty more to go. Yes, I’ll be coming."

  I nod, and he follows me out of the hydroponics room toward the loading area, where Freja and Micha? are preparing to go back to their base. As we exit the lift and step into the loading area, I hand Freja the SD card and say, "The general better be happy with that. He got a special version instead of what we agreed on."

  Freja holds the crystalline SD card between her fingers and replies, "I doubt he’d mind having a better version than we agreed on."

  Monty adds, "He should. He could feed his entire base with two of these. We might have to put a free fruit and vegetable stand outside with how much we’re going to produce."

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Freja chuckles. "Well, it was nice staying with you, but we have something to deliver. But if you do have too much food, we’ll always be willing to trade."

  Monty opens the bunker door, and I tell Freja, "We will. And we’ll also be taking more stuff from the summoned building to trade. Soon, your base will be envied by the other Dungeon Rescue Corp bases with the amount of goods we’ll trade with them."

  Freja nods and heads out into the dungeon. We watch them disappear into the corridors before I turn to Monty and ask, "You’ll be fine while I'm gone?"

  "Just make sure you don’t get killed by some Eldritch horror out there. I’ll be fine," he says.

  I laugh. "I won’t. I’m just going out for a bit. I’ll be back before you know it."

  I take the trolley and begin heading into the dungeon corridor.

  Once I’m far enough away, I use Scavenger's Intuition and start following it through the corridors. While walking, I spot a group of orcs charging into gunfire, but since they aren’t in my way, it's not my problem. I continue toward the summoned building.

  After rounding one last corner, I see the entrance of the building—heavily fortified and guarded by lizardmen. I sigh as I look at the structure. "No windows, made of solid stone. That’s a museum."

  I draw my revolver and push the trolley toward the entrance. Since both lizardmen guards are only holding spears, they don’t pose much of a threat. They’re dead soon after spotting me. I push the trolley inside and am immediately greeted by archers waiting on the first-floor balcony. I abandon the trolley and duck behind the counter.

  "I think this was a mistake," I mutter as an arrow zips past my head, embedding itself in the wooden chair in front of me.

  Two sword-wielding lizardmen climb over the desk, but a bullet each, and they’re no longer a problem. Another arrow zips overhead as I try to figure out a way to get to better cover.

  I look around, but the only things here are some cabinets with nothing important. I yank a cabinet door off its hinges and put my hand through the handle, making a shield out of cheap wood that wouldn’t stop a butter knife. I throw the useless shield aside and grab one of the lizardmen corpses instead, using it as cover.

  Keeping my back to the wall, I feel every arrow thud against my scaly shield. After some awkward shuffling, I make it to a door and open it, stepping inside—only to be met by two small lizardmen.

  I drop my pincushion of a shield and try to draw my revolver, but these two are fast. The first one latches onto my arm, sinking its teeth into my flesh. I shoot the second one first to prevent more damage, then slam the little bastard clinging to my arm against the corner of the table. It goes limp, but its teeth are still stuck in my arm, so I have to pry its jaws open to free myself.