Chapter 170: How It Used to Be

Hearing this, Letia was somewhat surprised.

She truly hadn’t expected that Liz could actually borrow someone from Judgment Holy Night.

After all, Judgment Holy Night only had six people in total.

Anyone pulled out from their ranks was a core member; losing even one would basically cripple their ability to keep advancing.

Noticing Letia’s astonishment, Monica… or rather, Silly Goose, only tilted her head and explained in her typically flat voice.

“It’s fine. My brother and the others aren’t planning to go any deeper into the Dungeon for now. Lending Liz a hand isn’t a big deal.”

“That may be so…”

Letia sighed, “But the problem is, the Dungeon has a penalty for carrying newcomers. Any boss or monster you kill, we almost get no experience or rewards at all.”

As for this, Liz had long since come up with a solution.

“Monica won’t directly participate in battle. She’ll be more like an insurance for our party—only stepping in if we run into dangers we truly can’t handle.”

Liz considered herself proud and a little stubborn, but definitely not stupid.

Charging into the Dungeon without new members was indeed too dangerous.

But standing around doing nothing wasn’t a solution either; the funds for Dawnblade were already running dry.

If this went on, she’d have no choice but to ask her family for money.

And she just couldn’t bring herself to do that.

It was like working away from home for three years, only to end up begging your family for meal money… For a Noble, that was just too humiliating.

So, seeing Monica with nothing to do—and since this girl had started frequenting Succubus Street every few days—it only made sense, as her older cousin, that she ought to properly guide her.

As for Mason—

Judging by how he looked, he was a lost cause.

Liz covered her face and sighed once again.

There was a time when she admired her cousin—so powerful and handsome—but now, why had he turned out like this?

“So that’s how it is… Well, in that case, here, take this.”

Letia, seeing that Liz’s mind was made up, decided not to argue further.

She simply reached into her pocket and silently took out the Combat Plan for the Twenty-Fourth Floor, which she’d gotten from her earlier trade with Red.

This was the fully optimized version—more a complete strategy guide than a simple plan.

The details inside were meticulous to the extreme, so clear that even Satania could understand them.

“…What’s this?”

Liz’s gaze went distant as she saw the familiar handwriting on the notebook.

Letia merely passed the notebook over, her tone as calm as if she were discussing the weather.

“Bought it from Mr. Red earlier.”

She paused, as if recalling some unimportant detail of the transaction.

“He said that even before he left your party, he’d already started preparing a strategy for the Twenty-Fourth Floor. Later, when I asked him to make a guide, he just built on the half-finished draft he had… Tweaked it here and there, and voilà—this is the final version.”

Seeing this familiar notebook, Liz seemed to recall the past.

She held it gently in her hands, turning each page carefully.

Line after line of familiar script, map after map of clear routes, every mark detailed—she was utterly absorbed, as if she weren’t reading a cold strategy, but savoring a gripping novel.

Monica, seeing Liz in this state, couldn’t help but voice her honest question:

“Are you missing Red?”

“No!”

Liz’s answer was a bit forced, but she instinctively refuted Monica’s words.

She looked around, then at the notebook in her hands, and couldn’t help but feel a little lonely inside.

Jessica spoke up at that moment.

“Want a drink? Once we enter the Dungeon, there’ll be no chance to have alcohol.”

“Yeah,” Liz nodded coldly, “I just feel like drinking a little, that’s all.”

“Shi~”

Letia glanced at the team members present, her expression somewhat indifferent.

“I’ll have a glass too.”

Bethany took a bottle of red wine from the cupboard and poured a glass for everyone present.

“Here, cheers.”

“דם”

Everyone rose and clinked their glasses, drinking heartily, but after setting down her wine, Liz’s expression didn’t change at all.

In fact, the sourness of the wine made her frown a little.

It was clearly the same wine she’d always had…

Why did it taste so off now?

So sour, so sharp, and even left her feeling queasy after drinking.

As Liz puzzled over this, Letia swirled her wine and sighed.

“Whether wine tastes good or not depends on the environment. Even the same glass—if you’re all together, cheerful and lively, versus drinking alone, the feeling is worlds apart. That’s why I say, wine can be deceptive.”

Letia’s sharp insight sent Liz back into silence again, but Bethany hurried to smooth things over.

“We weren’t supposed to be talking about this today. Hurry and eat! Once we’re in the Dungeon, we won’t get another meal.”

With that, she took the lead and dug in.

But after a few bites, her movements slowed.

After a long silence, she spoke again.

“I can’t taste anything at all. Or maybe I just have no appetite. Come to think of it… Back when we had Strong Liquor before setting out, what did we even talk about at the table?”

“We chatted about what clothes to buy, plans for after we got back,” Jessica said while eating her vegetable salad, face blank. After a while, she continued, “Just random talk, I guess. Honestly, I can barely remember.”

“Eat up!”

Monica stuffed more food into her mouth with loud chewing.

“Why aren’t you all eating?”

“None of your business, just eat.”

Liz closed the notebook and sighed.

After that, everyone fell much quieter, eating in silence.

It was nothing like the lively send-off banquets before.

Everyone seemed to be carrying some unspoken worry, and the mood was far from happy.

Letia only shrugged, unconcerned, and kept munching on her bread.

Red was right—her relationship with the team was mostly on paper.

She didn’t really care about their feelings, and back then, she hadn’t cared about Zhoude’s feelings, either.

So, in the face of this awkward silence, why should she bother finding some light, happy topic to talk about?

What’s the point?

She wasn’t a saint, nor anyone’s caretaker.

Wasn’t it good enough to just eat quietly?

No, the food really wasn’t good.

Letia took two more bites before putting her bread back on the table.

Lifting her head and sensing the atmosphere in front of her, she had to admit…

It really was more relaxing to eat with Red and those other guys—shooting the breeze, joking about women, discussing national affairs and such.

Wasn’t that far more interesting than this?