"Now that it's done, we can talk about the other thing-"

The man standing before her spoke this while zipping up his pants.

"I'm not going to return, brother," she frowned up at him. This 'lubricant' slathered between her boobs had frothed up quite well, at the repeated thrusts of the man's penis between these two breasts. And it mixed with his own form of lubricant, as he continued to thrust after his release. The evidence of his cumming was all over her chest, and running down her tits now too. With grace she rose from her kneeling position, to wipe her exposed face, neck, and breasts with a wet wipe napkin.

"Andromeda ... really, quit being so standoffish. Please, come back home ... back to the family."

"It's not me being 'standoffish', Jack; it's just me being practical," she challenged as she slipped her dress shirt back on. "I cannot live by dad's rules anymore. I won't."

"But, why? What of your share of Grandpa Nolan's estate?"

"Oh don't give me that, brother; you cannot keep thinking 'sis loves me' here and now. You know as well as I, this has certain strings attached. I may be a prostitute now, but I've graduated from a great college and I have principles. If you don't like it, pick another girl who looks like me to take my place."

"So, that's it then-"

"The transaction is done. Please go back to your wife, brother."

"Lily is ... she isn't my wife anymore. She left ... one day after the honeymoon. After I told her ... about us."

"Just, go. Please. There is no 'us' now."

Andromeda broke off the same old conversation, to leave this dirty back alley.

Sometimes, her clients had unusual parameters in their sex play ― even more if playing with those related to her.

---

She should have gone home ― home to shower, to braid her hair like she wanted, to spend the remains of the day just lazing about. In fact, she wanted to go back to the penthouse suite, right now; but her being so near her favorite coffee shop, she also had a yearning for a sip of the strong stuff.

Not ten minutes later, sitting in this less than perfectly clean coffee shop, she spotted one of her regulars, who strode in through the door. She slid down in the seat reflexively, hoping he would not see her.

Oh, crap. He did see her. Nodding in deference, the man placed his order, and waited for the cup, took it, and turned.

She also hoped he wouldn't come this way-

'Oh crap, oh crap, I do not want to talk to this man right now-'

He was, in fact, coming to her in a direct way, leering all the way ― with a knowing glance at her sitting in this place.

She shuddered, recalling the things she did for people like the one who was here. Yes, she may be a prostitute, and she may not like doing all the things her customers preferred doing. It didn't help in how she gave better service than they gave her; even a prostitute wanted her own joy from the act. But this man, she wanted to keep him at more than an arm's length away ... when he was not paying her to play with him. And even then, she'd want to not touch so much-

"Ah, Andromeda; how good to see you, out here in the real world. Care if I join you?"

She could start out with the 'polite refusal'; but if it did not work, she would have to go with the more harsh verbal retort.

"Sorry, I would rather not; this is my 'me time'. If I let everyone join me when I am not 'on the clock', then ... I would be tired of it."

"Oh ... well ... I-"

"Just pretend I'm not here, please; and I'll do the same for you."

He halted, a sudden glare appearing. "I'm ― nobody to you?"

"That's how it works," she replied, hating the feeling of bursting a customer's imaginary bubble. "If you need romance or to socialize, get a girlfriend. Or, boyfriend. Or, animal. Or, object."

"You fuckin' whore-"

"Hey! You ― don't talk to my customer like that!" the barista yelled from across the room, stepping forward. "Either apologize, or get out!"

Her former client's face twisted to a trace of anger and angst, but he walked out without further word. The barista only gave a subtle nod her way, and returned to his position.

She wished, ever so desperately, this guy would just 'lose' her contact information. As in, never call her again.

If it were not for people like this guy, she would enjoy the sex work. But conversely, if it were not for people like him, all alone and horny and kinky all day, she'd also probably not be in this same line of work.

Sex for pay also had its own dangers, even when not taking into account men like that. In recent news, a serial killer had been targeting young female prostitutes who looked similar to how she did, to some extent. She lived constantly with a worry of being in danger at every turn, but she always tried to push away the thought of being drawn into such drama. After all, isn't it the human normal to think 'it cannot happen to me, can it?' Yet the chance remained high, for this serial killer was targeting not just low class but also high class girls, in this same borough ― Andromeda might even know the killer, without knowing his identity as such; this was the only part of it she feared.

Andromeda considered her own physique and form. She appeared as a classy woman in her mid twenties, but one who had a spark of intellect and wits. Standing a mere five foot eight and a half inches tall, she was fashionably dressed and fit to suit her clients who preferred a businesswoman foreplay style. Such as the one from the alley, the guy who had 'sister issues'.

She was fit to play a business role ― due to buckling down in her high school years, she had graduated at a decent business college with a master's degree. But after the graduation, there was a week when everything fell apart ― roommate moved, boyfriend left her, she got fired from the side job ― and so she turned to this lifestyle to make ends meet.

Her 'working girl' alias ― Andromeda Champion ― or at least the first name of it, came from her true name, Andrea Romina Edan. She was only nine years old when she found by taking the first three letters of each name, put together, would become the name of a fictional goddess of some pantheon in the Greco-Roman mythos.

Was it strange for her at that time to go around telling people her new name was Andromeda? People in school thought it cute, for a time; but still she had to keep using her legal name for all things proper. It was a fad, one which died out when she was twelve years old, where she found her older brother masturbating while calling her nickname. That's when she first suspected a nickname could be an alias for a different form of life. Of course, when mommy and daddy found out-

She didn't really pick up the old nickname again, until the middle of her twenty first year of life. After graduating from a business college and beginning internship with a small corporation, she was losing interest in all of those numbers and management duties. And also, she'd been dumped one too many times ― but she had needs, so ... she tried prostitution, also taking precautions. It turned out as well as she could expect; and from what she did know of business from the three years in the college, she did setup this life of sex for money under the alias.

Everyone had always told her this big city is like a lion who wants to chew you up, swallow you whole, then spit you out as garbage later. Andromeda had not believed it to be such a dire situation, until she'd had to make her own choices. After a freaky interlude with a vice cop who had a 'look the other way' policy, she had been setup to be a confidential informer for him. She even had an apartment on the upper east side, with a small patio where she kept a miniature garden, and her beloved white cat she rescued from the streets.

Now? She couldn't see ever going into a 'proper' business profession ― and why should she? She'd been having all too much freedom, and too much fun, to give up what she'd been doing.

In the next few minutes, Andromeda had drank up her beverage in peace, left a generous tip, then left.

---

Her normal route back to the apartment was directly east of here, with a view overlooking the Park; she made excellent time on foot, only distracted by the just blooming flowers at the beginning of the season.

Halfway back to her apartment, a hand over her mouth silenced her squeal, another arm encircling her waist and yanking her into another alley. A disgusting hand pressed over her mouth, even more tightly than she thought possible, stifling her ability to call for help. The arm at her waist was firm, like iron, in how it locked her in place.

"You will pay for earlier, bitch," a raspy voice cut across her own squeal.

Struggling was ineffective; the self defense maneuvers she knew might not work in any situation he held her. She could normally handle a man on a one-on-one fight; but not against one who held her immobile and pressed a chloroformed cloth over her mouth with such force.

As she failed to keep her consciousness, to stay afloat above her darkening vision, he only dragged her onward, to whoever knew where.

---

She woke, with a strange taste in her mouth, and hearing aggressive music playing in the other room, loud but not painfully so. A masked man hovered over her body, holding the steel syringe with its glass cylinder full of pale amber fluid showing through it. The man flared his nostrils as he glared at her and everything. He stabbed this syringe into her chest, to inject its full contents, to shock her even more awake than before.

'This ... burns ... why ... it hurts ... so much?'

"Disrespect me, why don't you?!"

Whack.

A solid blow to the side of her head made her vision blur again, but she recovered from her earlier stupor with this impact. She seemed nude, restrained by cuffs in a hospital bed with metal guard rails raised on its sides. He glared down at her in glee at her realization.

Something fabric, like a silky smooth material, had been wadded into her mouth like so much cotton. Her own panties; she recognized it when her tongue ran across the elastic waist band. Heavy duty duct tape crisscrossed over her face, keeping the wad inside her mouth.

Loud music out there, her mouth stuffed and taped up in here. This means, she could scream all she wanted, and nobody would hear. Nobody would be coming to help her. Not even the detective whose confidential informant she had been for a few years; he might take a hit in this, she was sure he'd come to care for her.

"Every time, it's like this," the man said, just loud enough into her ear. "Every time, I have to get rid of another girl. Every time, I have to find another one. And you dirty bitch whores don't realize yet who you're fucking with. But I'll tell you, soon enough."

Chills ran down her spine; she had a sudden understanding ― this man was possibly the serial prostitute murderer from all of the warnings.

And the man went on to vent at her. "You couldn't fucking just let me sit there with you, and enjoy a cup of fucking coffee, could you?"

'This ― the voice ― he is the disgusting customer I wanted to avoid? And what set him off was my wanting to be alone?!'

"I am a marine, goddammit! A marine medic, who holds your life in these hands! I deserve respect, not to be treated like dirt!"

The way this man treated her now, she felt was no better. A military man was no less likely to search for outlets for his perversions; and this man's perversions ran to the worst forms she'd ever seen, even the worst parts she had to say no to taking part in.

As she felt her body go limp, he unleashed her limbs from the hospital bed, and flipped her off the bed, onto a thick plastic sheet on the floor ― her head banged against tiled floor. Tools sat lined up, just outside of her reach ― many of them appearing sharpened for precise cutting.

If this was indeed the serial killer, it did not bode well for her fate, for her life. Her life was about to end, after a painful, torturous trial.

---

The assault began, continued, went on some more, and eventually ended ― with her not able to defend herself in the least. Her skin cut by razor sharp tools in so many places, this killer reached inside her body to squeeze parts of her, only enough to keep her barely this side of alive, all the while with hissed words of accusation and terror inducing mania.

Folds of skin cut into, ounces of blood oozing out of her internal cavities ― and the mind numbing cold of life starting to drain away, as the brain sought to conserve what little it had left.

But yet this was not enough, as even the man's hands reached inside of these stripped away folds of flesh. He cut at the stomach, the intestines, her uterus, ovaries, and even slashed at her vagina and other parts. Her anus and rectum, down to each sensitive bit she'd let this man toy with, when he was her client.

At the end, even if the numbness had not been here, she could barely move a finger or toe ― the damage was brutal, beyond any pain she'd ever felt before.

'Is this what it feels like to be killed by another human? For no other reason than anger or perceived injustice? For what a marine could do in the line of duty, but not back in the States?'

And finally, she was dying but not dead yet ― stitched up partly, rolled up in the plastic tarpaulin ― but he dragged her outside in the night, to another alley, and disposed of her in a dirty trash heap.

A final teardrop leaked from her one remaining eye's tear duct, as she waited for death in the gutter. She feared, nobody would know of her life, her death, her pain. And worse, nobody could avenge her death in whatever form of fate she might have beyond this.

Only a higher power than herself could save her now-

---

In this moment, with Andromeda desperately seeking a way to continue living, a crack in the universe opened up, not twenty meters above ground level of the same alley as her. With it a glowing being got ejected rapidly from it, to drop in some overly slowed manner, like an animated serialized comic.

"Aah!" he screamed as he descended, to hit face first into the hard pavement. "Oof."

Her vision was fading, ever so slowly ― or maybe she was dead now, somehow attached to this place. But she saw him get up, dust himself off as if he received no damage, and look skyward to the disintegrating space-time portal above him.

"Do that to me, why don't you? I'll get back there, and then you'll be sorry!" he screamed at the disappearing crack in the air above. "I AM A DEMIGOD, SAME AS YOU, DAMMIT!"

The only answer from the other side, seemed to be gloating laughter ― from many people. A laugh, and a husky woman's voice call out, "It's been fun, Perseus ― but goodbye, forever. Consider this a divorce."

At last, the rent line in the universe's space and time dimensions closed, with a suctioning slurp and pop to the air.

But then, sensing he wasn't the only one here, he turned to directly face her body as she blinked the eyelids covering the only eye remaining, to have the last tear stream out. She felt sorry she could not properly say anything to this otherworldly creature ― his first human meeting would be at her death.

This 'demigod' leaned in, maybe disgusted by the sight of her near death form, yet clearly interested in the thought of what must have happened before this.

"Oh hello, what do we have here. My, my; who did this, my dear? Hm. You were disposed, I am disposed. We might be in the same situation, after all."

He bent down, to look right at her face, and even touch her body in a gentle motion, with something between idle curiosity and mild amusement. At least, he was not in any sense disgusted now by her appearance; or maybe in the setting, this much was excusable in their meeting here and now. From his touch, she felt a slight tingle ― the only thing she could sense, in this moment.

"Oh, still able to be saved then, barely so-"

A lingering thought of how handsome this man seemed, crossed her mind; even in her death, she did have a thing for this classic dashing face-

"guhewpme-"

She could not answer more than strange verbal sounds, but he knew it was some strange plea. Not just her face structure, but also her own vocal chords ― destroyed by the killer. Not to mention limbs, chest, internal organs ... enough damage to be a surprise how she held consciousness this long.

'Am I still awake, waiting for death ― or am I dead already, and even death does not want me?'

He waved his arms and pushed palms towards her, as if injecting invisible energy into her lingering essence. Then she felt wrapped in feelings of warmth, followed by all the remembered pain of the last few hours ― and on this note, she passed out.

---

But she came awake to full consciousness ― no clue how much time had passed, maybe minutes, maybe hours ― feeling healed of her injuries and as light as air, finding herself standing up nude beside the unknown man. Looking down, she saw herself-

Andromeda fought back a wave of nausea, at seeing now the full extent of her death scene. What the killer had done to her, was far past gruesome, far beyond what was on television and other public media ― this mangled body could not be hers, could it?

"Huh?" she spoke, also amazed she could now speak, and as perfectly as she had before this night. "What-"

"Ah, Andromeda, is it? Or should I call you Andrea. Hello; I'm your guardian angel for the moment. Perseus is the name. I am sorry to say I couldn't save you from the monster who did this ― though since we each have our own circumstance, I think we can help each other. You might even say, it is 'fortunate' for me to be here, at this place and time."

She looked from her own former body, attracting flies, to this man who declared himself a guardian angel, and pondered what this situation was turning into.

"I'm dead. Right?"

"In a word ― yes. Again, I am sorry; but your existence potential isn't going to be so great after what happened to you. But, let's not discuss this here. Shall we go to your apartment? We have a lot to talk about."

She tensed slightly ― but sensing no ill will at his request, she acquiesced to the query by a nod.

"I suppose. As long as I can leave this cursed alley, I agree. Even better, if it can be into a place I know and feel safe."

"Exactly my thought, Andromeda. Except, right now, 'feeling safe' is rather hard to come by ― even for me, I might add."

As a siren screamed into a near street, he snapped his fingers; they both disappeared from this alley, to reappear in a new scene ― her apartment, inside the patio door. Her cream haired feline perked up from her pet bed, ran to and rubbed against ― or through ― her leg, until Perseus took pity on her and allowed Andromeda more solidity, to hold her own cat, one last time.

Perseus raised an eyebrow. "You like cats, do you?"

She pushed past any question of her likes or dislikes. "First question. How do you know my name."

"The short version ― I am a demigod, and I can see your status. Your real name and the fictional one too."

"Status ― hey don't make this sound like some elaborate game!"

"I am sorry; no, in what you went through, you are right, this is no game. But yet, some properties of the world are best summarized as what you may know from game content, so it's understandable I could get this information on you with no trouble. Even if it were not seen through a game like view, I looked inside your memories, only just for a moment, to see where and how you lived ― to see if we could work together on something."

"I want to see my status too. Hey, my memories ... say what? What kind of a being are you, again?"

"Ah ... well, I'm a demigod, actually. I am Perseus, the Demigod of Fortune, here to help you. Enough of a deity that I can see these things of your life, as well as look into the memories of a lesser being. No, not one of this world; but in another world. Let's not quibble over a technicality, or over the 'demi' part. If I weren't a deity, would I have been able to bring you ... back here? Or not only to mention, back to life? Eh, at least, back into a form of existence so we can understand each other; the life part is ... a technicality. For now."

"Ah ... I ... see. No, I suppose you are right; sorry if I want too much."

"Quite alright, quite understandable, in this point of time."

He fell silent, but she didn't want to let too much time pass; no telling how much time she may have remaining like this form.

"What was that about the woman who kicked you out ― a divorce, I think she said?"

He coughed, and turned away even further. "Don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, you don't have to; but if you wanna do something to get her out of your system, I'm willing."

"Yes ... I know. I saw your recent life, of perversions and sexual servitude. Thing is, while I could do ... that ... with you, I don't have that much time ― or, neither do you. As enjoyable as it may be, for both of us."

"So I suspected. Then ... tell me about it; what happens to us now?"

---

Over the next fifteen or so minutes, Perseus told Andromeda a sad tale, some of which went far over her head. Until she just interrupted him to summarize the core points to date.

"Let me get this straight, Perseus ― you are part of a pantheon, its newest member raised from the lesser gods to the group of greater gods in fact, set to become one of the regular gods ― and so someone forced you out of that place? Someone jealous of your status or ability?"

"With a minor quibble on the 'jealous' concept, but ... mostly correct."

"And you're also saying you cannot simply go back there to get your revenge, at least not on your own? You need someone there to make a way for you, or to help you come back?"

"Also with a minor quibble on the 'revenge' part, correct. Me being a Demigod of Fortune, any act of revenge does not do me any good as you may know; or also, violent acts and deeds hold no profit in them, so it will not help me."

"What ... deities don't have lover's quarrels in your world?"

"I think you recently saw the evidence that we do. But as far as breakups ― this was the worst for our pantheon; and what she did-"

He fell silent once more.

"I get it, I've seen this story before, here on Earth. And then, what? You want me to be this help, so you can go back? Revenge or not, at least to take your rightful place."

Perseus nodded, happy to see she had gotten it all so far. "Exactly."

"And ... won't this other woman somehow hear our planning?"

"The portal did close, I felt it. I cannot go back that way; I can only cross back to that world by using the last of my divinity. Thus, needing the help of someone who already does not have this divinity to lose, as what you may call an 'anchor' in the other world. I can push someone else through to that world, easier than going through to it myself."

She paused, deep in thought. Being dead now, she had nothing better to do; but what she learned from his diatribe, Perseus said her afterlife potential was otherwise next to nil. At least, until some person or thing would be a factor of change in her existence. This chance was about all she was going to get, just to continue 'existing'.

"A tentative ... okay ... but I'll need more details. The usual ― who, what, where, when, why. And might as well ask the how, while I'm at it."

Perseus sighed, then resigned himself to make this a simple line of thoughts.

"You. Become a dungeon mistress and champion in my realm for my name ― so like your pseudonym. In the world from where I came, and in the dungeon I used as a residence. Right now, if possible. Because that's the only way either of us shall now continue to exist for much longer than we are. How is not so important-" Perseus looked at her impatiently. "Listen. I have covered a lot of this already. Have I answered the main points to your satisfaction? Because otherwise I feel like you're doing nothing but squeezing my testicles. Or, proverbially so."

"Rather blunt, but essentially okay," she nodded. "Hey. If you can somehow send me, then why can't you use the same way to get there? What about this makes you lose your godhood?"

Perseus coughed, stalling for time. Then, he sighed, resolved to tell her even more.

"Well ... I could somewhat see into my world, and maybe push one or two things there; I just cannot go there. It has something to do with the way I was pushed into this world. I have a few divinity points, enough to send one person over, with maybe a little first-time bonus to your abilities and skills. And a few remaining after this, so I can on down the line, send more ― until you build up enough divinity points for me to come to you-"

"Sounds like a computer game my brother used to play," she inferred, then giggled at the odd memory. "So, send me where, to what place?"

"The world is named Lastop ― I understand the humor, many from other worlds make the joke of it being the 'Last Stop' for them. Despite this, do not joke; it really is not the last stop."

"Okay, got it. Do not make fun of the world name, check-"

"Andromeda ― do not be so pedantic; I am being truthful. My domain in Lastop has become beaten back from other cultures; for now, I only have divine right over one large dry desert, plus a dozen failed temples in various cities which ring it. In the middle of the desert, I have an oasis nexus, a retreat of sorts for a strange woman; she has been guardian of the spot a few decades. The dungeon base where you will start is an underground facility surrounded by no less than four oases, with the dungeon having become inactive for a couple decades. Before long, you will be able to meet the oasis guardian; and together, you will both be able to help me to come back to Lastop."

"But no, I wonder about this ― if you already have a guardian, then why pick me-"

"Simply put, you seemed to be in the right place at the right time; you need me as much as I need you, which is still more than she does. The guardian woman may have her own set of skills as well as mental issues to deal with; she's mostly in lust with the idea of me and her ― but she isn't yet fully capable of helping me come back to my world. Frankly speaking, I never envisioned being betrayed by any other deities; so I didn't give her the abilities I can give to you. Besides ― calling her could incur what you might call 'long distance charges' of a sort; plus she does not have a way to call me back if she needed to. In full honesty, because of a past dalliance, she still lusts for me, and so you'll probably get an earful of questions and thoughts from her."

"So ... I am to be different from her? More so or less so?"

"I'm neither going to qualify nor quantify how much in difference; this is not my intent. You are greater than her in some ways, but less than her in others. But you are correct in how this is where you come in; I ask you to make a dungeon and guide it to become something adventurers could visit, where my favor could bring me back. The basics of the dungeon are already there; I'd used it as a private retreat after some earlier argument with my foe. I know, strange to hide and let tempers cool off in a desert dungeon; but it's how it turned out. I will say again what I said earlier; there is no good fortune to be found from senseless violence. All you have to do on arrival is to activate it, get dungeon minions, and manage the whole thing. But, this is just the dungeon aspect-"

"A demigod can have a dungeon as his home? How does that happen? Oh, wait; aside from what I may assume it is, what is a dungeon, truly? More of the game concept?"

"It's such a long story; the land which was my prized nation is now a desert; it used to be super fertile, but my former lover turned adversary used her skills to undo what I did so very long ago. It is a dark period in this world's history which I do not want to repeat; think of your own world's Dark Ages of medieval chaos and assorted myths of an earlier age as a basis." He waved off further talk of this point, to speak of another. "A canonical but concise definition of a dungeon, here on Earth, seems to be a dark enclosed space which is used to detain or imprison others for some time, if not forever. In other worlds, it may be this too; but a dungeon is a magical or mystical construct, a space in which adventurers or heroes try their fate against the will of the dungeon master. In such regard, it is not so unlike the gambling establishments which you Earthlings seem fond of using to lose money through card and dice games."

Andromeda cocked her head to a side, considering how her part would be larger than someone native to such a world. "It sounds like an incredibly hard task, to complete."

"It's not so onerous a task as one might think; it's a large desert, intrusion by aggressors is minimal ― the guardian woman's home is one of a few safe zones in this area. Her place is in the exact center of this desert, where merchant caravans, adventurers, and thieves cross from one side to another. Traders from lands on either side of the desert may also meet for trade there. She has a small hut, plus she tends a garden of sorts ― though she has not yet been inside my dungeon, beneath her hut; nobody has; it's still locked by me. After you start up the dungeon properly, you can go above ground and see what it's like in a desert. If you do visit my desert guardian, please reassure her that I haven't forgotten her, as she may be a little ... frantic, by now."

"I see." She touched a finger to her lips, thinking of the next questions. But try as she might, it seemed Perseus hit all the main points right away ― either this, or she was still shaken from, well ... being killed.

But he further insinuated a benefit. "It's not a one-sided thing, either ― you help me, I help you. When you do something aligned with my goals, my standing in the world rises; then I have more to share among the followers who have faith in me. This includes you; in sharing blessings and favors, I help you, because it is beneficial for the both of us. Plus, anyone you link into for my name's sake, you will experience a little bit of the follower system that I, as a lesser deity, also experience. Treat them kindly, and you will do well."

She blushed, a devious thought running through her mind. "Treat them, kindly ... any form of kindness? Even the way that I'm used to doing?"

"Now listen here, you sex starved kitty cat. I am not going to specifically allow or deny the intimate ideas you might be having in your head. Let's just say, if it is consensual, I have no problem with it; sex has a more fortune favored side to it, too. Do not become so preoccupied with it so you forget the dungeon ― if this is not enough, I also have a certain time limit to be able to return to my world. After said time, it becomes an exponentially more troubling task to go back ― which is the other part of the mission I will give to you: build up my followers to provide me FP, or Follower Points. This FP accrues the same way as your running a dungeon provides both of us with Dungeon Points."

"Uh, how ... make followers?"

"I do still have those dozen or so other temples ― if perchance my former lover turned rival has not gone on to blast them to pieces. Even if she did, you can still restart in this desert domain ― by building a village at this desert crossing, where surely some of the travelers might want to give thanks or ask for safe travel. I think you will be able to see soon, just how to begin. You will soon have the needed magic and minions to transform a small part of the desert surrounding this oasis zone into a habitable hamlet, then enlarge it to a village, then to a town, and so on. Some of those may want to settle in this halfway point; just beware they do not have their own goals which operate counter to mine and your objectives."

"So ... dungeon master and overlord, your apostle or maybe call it champion, as well as village chief or mayor. Anything more than this?"

"-if I told you everything, you would feel overwhelmed. But for now, these are the high points which I feel you are capable to take on; anyway I have nobody else to turn to. If you can grab hold of these objectives to help me return to Lastop, then you and I shall be able to work together more efficiently. In other words, even if I have some urgency, I will not want you to work without a chance to stop and catch your breath, where you can safely do so. Never forget; you are your own self, and even if you are my agent, you do have free choice."

He waited, silently listening for a response from her; but at this point, she could only mutely nod her acceptance of the greater points.

"Okay, then, Perseus. Just tell me what I have to do, once I arrive."

---

Time seemed to freeze outside of the discussion. Perseus told her even more of Lastop, the world she would go to ― prime aspects: from key abilities or skills of a dungeon master, how to summon minions, react to adventurers, and more.

To her concern she would miss her daily coffee and sugar cravings, Perseus claimed a beverage like coffee was available in the world. Although it would be a more bitter taste, she may find a mild sweetener; what passed for sugar just wasn't as sweet. He showed her in the dungeon shop menu, a few domestic things she could purchase, as the dungeon begins to thrive. Though seeming cheap in cost so she could buy it many times, he warned many things were an extravagance not to get sucked into purchasing too early in the task.

With a flick of his wrist, Perseus let her have a taste of what she would soon be able to influence, with the systems and the skills.

• Congratulations! System activation successful; Benefactor: Perseus, Demigod of Fortune; Subject: Andrea Romina Edan (alias: Andromeda Champion).
• Acquired the system "Champion System". The road ahead may have problems, but your deity's blessings make the troubles more manageable for you and your followers.
• Acquired the system "Dungeon System". Your deity gifts you rights and responsibilities to build and operate a dungeon, to ensure mana and souls get returned to where they came.
• Hidden condition met: acquire two or more systems which are the opposite of each other. By walking a fine line between them, you have great blessings further on down the line.
• Acquired the title "Apostle of Perseus". Acts which are core to the gathering and supporting of the deity's believers gain great boosts by using this title.
• Acquired the title "Desert Dungeon Master". Acts which are core to interacting with the desert realm gain generous boosts by using this title.
• Hidden condition met: acquire two or more titles which are the opposite of each other. Acts related to boosting fame of a patron deity or of a dungeon realm are double of normal.

And then, after a few seconds of seeing system messages, she knew now was the time. She felt okay to leave this world; she might not know if some person would discover her death, or if she had friends to mourn her life.

"Send me off, Perseus ― I'm ready for a new world now."

"Do not worry over the things you leave behind; I will take as good a care of them as I can. Especially your chocolates. Well then. Good fortunes, my new friend-"

"My chocolates!"