The wait to get in had improved since they increased the number of Entrance Gates, but the sudden influx of newcomers who weren't used to the system was slowing things down again. Still, it was significantly faster than it had been before the expansion.
We only had to wait in line for about fifteen minutes before we successfully made it inside the dungeon.
"The Entrance Gates are moving pretty smoothly now, but this queue for floor transitions just never seems to get any better," Masaru remarked.
"Well, if you're trying to take the shortest route between floors, you're bound to get caught in it," I replied. "Even if you take a detour to another passage, you'll just end up waiting in line at the stairs anyway. If a newcomer uses the stairs after finishing their exploration, people are usually willing to let them merge, but mid-level explorers tend to be a lot less forgiving to anyone trying to bypass the line. It's usually less of a headache to just join the queue from the start."
"True. Forcing your way in is just asking for trouble," Hiiragi-san added. "People see it as a lack of manners. Whether it’s a tacit understanding or a local rule that popped up over time, it’s a clear sign that everyone wants to avoid conflict inside the dungeon as much as possible."
As Hiiragi-san said, these orderly queues played a vital role in preventing friction between explorers. I’d heard that right after the dungeons were opened to the public, there was a subset of people who would try to shove past everyone to be the first ones inside. Considering how high the buyback rates for drop items were back then, I suppose it was only natural for people to get aggressive. Of course, that greed led to constant fighting. When things turned violent and people got hurt, the DP had to intervene, resulting in numerous arrests.
After watching those people make such a public, pathetic display of themselves, other explorers naturally started forming queues to avoid the same fate. That history was why the traveling lines were still strictly maintained today, even if they were a bit of a nuisance.
"Exactly. It’s a local rule that only works because we already have the habit of lining up politely. When I see dungeon news from overseas, there aren't many places where people wait in an orderly fashion like they do in Japan."
"Yeah. It’s something we’ve had drilled into us since elementary school, so everyone just does it instinctively. I’ve heard that compared to dungeons abroad, we have far fewer incidents involving people fighting over their spot in line."
"In more dangerous areas, I’ve heard of brawls breaking out just because someone cut in front of another," Hiiragi-san said. "It’s hard to tell how strong an explorer is just by looking at them. It’s scary to think a high-level explorer might start something thinking they’re just being assertive, only for the other person to be low-level and unable to handle the confrontation."
By maintaining these queues and moving in an orderly fashion, everyone benefited: low-level explorers avoided trouble with those stronger than them, and high-level explorers avoided accidental catastrophes.
While it took more time to travel, the consensus was clearly that avoiding conflict was worth the delay.
By the time we descended to the 7th floor, the density of the queue had thinned out to roughly what it was before summer vacation—maybe even a little less. This was likely because the veterans who had been working the upper floors moved deeper once the summer rush of newcomers hit. If the population density on a floor gets too high, the monster encounter rate drops, and so does the profit.
If you have the strength to operate on deeper floors, moving down to secure your income is a logical move. This phenomenon didn't just affect the beginner-heavy upper floors; the ripple effect reached the floors where mid-level explorers operated as well.
"It looks like the influx of newcomers has successfully pushed the veteran explorers to spread out across different floors," Masaru noted.
"Probably. A lot of people likely had the strength to move but lacked the motivation to do it until the flood of newcomers forced their hand. Though 'pushed out' is probably a more accurate way to put it."
"For professionals who rely on the dungeon for their livelihood, a drop in income due to low encounter rates is a serious threat," Hiiragi-san observed. "On top of that, as the population increases and the supply of drop items goes up, the buyback rates naturally fall. To maintain their income, they have no choice but to go deeper to find drops that still fetch a high price."
Many drop items that used to be worth thousands of yen when we started were now only worth a few hundred. It showed just how much the explorer population had grown in a short time and how stable the supply of items had become.
On one hand, you could say that dungeon-crawling expertise has accumulated to the point where people can safely earn a living. On the other, the risks remain the same while the pay has plummeted. If there isn't some kind of minimum guarantee put in place, it’s going to be hard to attract new explorers in ten or twenty years. An industry that can't attract new blood is an industry with no future.
"Well, look on the bright side," Masaru said. "It means dungeon exploration is progressing. The number of explorers is up, dungeon enterprises are growing, and the supply of items is becoming more reliable."
"Actually, the career board at school is full of postings from dungeon enterprises now," I said. "I heard a fair number of third-year Seniors are skipping college to go straight into the industry."
"I saw a news segment saying that dungeon enterprises are becoming popular career choices for students," Hiiragi-san added. "They offer a solid backup system, and the earning potential is high if you’re capable. It makes sense, given that even a basic set of gear is a huge initial investment. With the current rates, you can't really expect to break even immediately as an individual."
In the early days, high buyback rates meant you could recoup your initial costs quickly, which made it low-risk for students to start.
Now, with the market flooded, the only way to make a quick return is to get lucky with a rare drop or grind for a very long time. While the safety risks have decreased thanks to shared knowledge, the financial risks have increased, leading more people to seek the stability of corporate affiliation. Companies are likely looking to train their own talent from the ground up rather than just scouting veterans. If those rumored explorer training schools actually open, companies will probably start prioritizing their graduates over everyone else.
"True. Even for something as basic as a slime’s Core Crystal, the price is a fraction of what it used to be," Masaru said. "When you're putting in the same time and effort for a fraction of the pay, I can see why people would rather join a company. And the companies definitely want the manpower to meet market demand."
"And once the newcomers are trained up, they’ll swap them into the upper floors and send the veterans deeper for the high-value loot, right?" I asked.
"Most likely. Gathering the volume of dungeon food the market wants requires sheer numbers. To meet that demand, they need a large workforce of decent explorers rather than just a few elites."
Dungeon food was still scarce and expensive. Since it was easily distinguished from normal food, it functioned more as a luxury item, which was fine for now.
However, the market was naturally clamoring for higher volumes and lower prices. Companies can't ignore those demands forever. If they do, customers will lose interest and the market will shrink, which is the last thing they want.
"If this boom continues, we'll see the explorer population double or triple in a few years, but right now the labor shortage is clearly severe," Hiiragi-san said. "I'm sure some companies are willing to hire total amateurs as long as they're motivated. Though, that probably comes with plenty of headaches."
"I think I saw a job posting that required applicants to have entered a dungeon and killed at least one monster as a minimum requirement..."
"Well, if you can't kill a monster, you have no business being an explorer," I said. "There’s no point in hiring someone for the job if they can't do that. As a minimum requirement, it seems pretty fair."
Hiring a complete amateur who hadn't even registered as an explorer or proven they could handle a monster would be so reckless you'd have to wonder if the company had some ulterior motive. If you're hiring someone as a full employee, you have to verify their basic aptitude.
"True. Being an explorer offers so many more paths now," Masaru said. "It’s amazing how much has changed in just one year—individuals, groups, corporations, all of it."
"As the utility of dungeon materials becomes better known, things will only change faster," I said. "What's on the market now is probably just the tip of the iceberg."
"I agree," Hiiragi-san said. "Between the training schools and deeper exploration, I'm sure we'll see all sorts of new developments."
We already have things like Core Crystal power generation poised to disrupt the energy sector. Then there’s the magic bag, which could revolutionize logistics. Who knows what else is waiting down there?
I knew for a fact that if I released some of the things I had tucked away in my Spatial Storage, it would cause a massive uproar. Though, given enough time, those things would probably become common knowledge anyway.
By the time we reached the 20th floor, the queues had vanished. As expected, the mid-level explorers had shifted around, leaving the floor at a comfortable population density.
Once you get this deep, a quick day trip becomes difficult. Most student explorers don't have the time to make it down here. The people we saw now were mostly professional individual explorers or corporate teams.
"Let's pick up the pace from here. Should we aim for the 30th floor for now?"
"Yeah," I replied. "With the current buyback rates, we need to start our haul around there if we want it to be worth it. We don't know exactly how much the training ground is going to cost yet. Since we'll be alternating between working on the facility and exploring, we should make as much as possible while we're here."
"I can only carry so much back at once, so focusing on high-value drops is definitely the way to go," Hiiragi-san agreed. "Let's try to bypass the monsters on the way down."
Since we were facing the potentially massive expenses of setting up our own training ground, we were all in sync about maximizing our profits. We couldn't turn in items from floors that were too deep without raising eyebrows, so the high-end drops from the 30th floor were the perfect target. And since we were pretending not to have magic bags, we would ignore low-value loot and only fill our backpacks with the good stuff.
For today, our goal was to bring back about one million yen worth of materials—not counting any rare drops like skill scrolls.