Dungeon Helper

Time flows on and on.

By now, my monthly conversations with Helian had become fairly familiar.

"Hello."

"Welcome. What have you lugged all this way today?"

"The other day you said you wanted pizza, so I baked this in a wood-fired oven. And this is fried thinly sliced potatoes—please try some, Newbie-nim."

That bastard Helian.

If he'd been born on Earth, wouldn't he have gone on Culinary Class Wars and taken first place? Why is this virgin bachelor so damn good at cooking?

"For survival."

"Thank you."

"Doesn't it get annoying coming to the dungeon every month like clockwork?"...