Plan D, for Dungeon Devours the Continent.

It's simple really. All in the title. Though it'll take a while to accomplish.

First, buy more land. Second, 'intruders' on land give DP's. Repeat ad infinitum.

More land means more intruders. More intruders means faster DP replenishment. More DP's means buy more land at a time. Like a snowball rolling down a ski resort in the winter, it will accumulate surprisingly quickly.

It took a minute to figure all of that out. The same amount of time it took for the newly acquired dungeon area to gain 'eyes.' But what he saw and heard shocked him in several ways.

Under a burning torch hanging down from the ceiling. Standing at attention was a stunningly beautiful young woman, of no more than twenty years. Almost certainly less than that. She was totally nude, save for the black iron band on her neck. Battered and bruised across her whole body. And bleeding as well, from several places. But that was hardly the biggest surprise. Her height overall noticeably more than the typical human woman. One such being currently busy beating her. With the height difference entirely due to her stance, her ankles up in the air at approximately knee-height.

Her feet were digitigrade, having four clawed toes like a cat or dog. Covered with near-black colored fur up to the ankles. Followed by brightly hued red/orange fur up to almost the middle of her thighs. An extravagantly thick-furred tail of matching color sprouting from the base of the spine. No, this was a natural extension of it. Well over a meter in length, nearly two. Sporting a tip that should have been brilliantly white, if it wasn't so stained by blood. A pair of large triangular ears with black tips resting atop her head. Though rather than standing proudly atop her bright red hair, they flattened themselves against it in obvious fear.

Curious and careful study of this fox-woman revealed some other minor differences compared to a normal human. While most of her face was 'normal', the tip of her nose was the same near-black as her paws. Shaped just like a canine's nose-tip. Her fiery amber eyes occupied by vertical slit pupils, just as a cat or a fox. There was also a patch of white fur, about 10 to 12 cm wide stretching down from between her clavicles, to just below her navel. Squeezing through her impressive, supple breasts. And finally the hands. The backs of which had more dark fur, though it was sparse. While her fingertips sported well trimmed claws instead of nails.

She desperately wanted to run away. Or failing that, curl up into a ball to protect her vitals. Yet she dares not do either. Past experience warned her that those actions will only make things worse for her. So she stood as stoically as possible while the other one present alternately berated her, and battered her.

"Do ya know how much ah woulda got'n sellin yer virginity in auction!?" *SLAP* "A whole bunch more 'an what ya made fer me so far wit all tha years o' bein a servin wench!" *KICK* "But ya had to jus give it away ta the first asker!" *PUNCH* "Why in tha thirty-seven hells would ya do such a fool thing!?"

The gaudily dressed matron paused her beating/berating to listen for the answer.

[What are their statuses?] {Identify}

Name: Dara . Class: Courtesan . Level: 14

Species: Fox Beastkin

HP: 121/376

Name: Jodie . Class: Pimp(mistress) . Level: 37

Species: Human

HP: 700/700

[That's it? I guess my 'authorization' is too low for anything more than that.]

"You instructed me to do everything Count Quroth's son Digao ordered of me. I can not defy your instruction."

"Well that figures." *spits in her eye* "Clean it up in ere. An if ya apologise ta me good enuf tomorrow, ah jus might let ya visit tha healers."

With that, the vile slave owning human woman left the room.

[OH SHIT! This is my mom! Then that sadistic hag must be her 'owner.' "Give away her virginity?" This is a fucking brothel! And my bio dad is some 'noble's' brat who just raped her. I gotta get her outa there. Safely. If that hag finds out she's already pregnant, or even suspects it's possible, then she'd probly abort me to keep her "in working order."]

[I really want to heal her up. And I should be able to, with the physical contact. Since I'm also currently over there in her belly. Not just for her own sake, cause my own life depends on her health right now. But if I do so before guaranteeing her exit, then that would be really suspicious at best.]

[So how do I get her out? And to where?]

Warning!

Connection has been severed!

{GAH!}

While he was deep in thought, his other body's mother had already gotten busy following her order to clean up. When the fox-woman left the area the young dungeon had already purchased, his connection to it, through his other self, was cut off. And so painfully too. Just like severing a limb.

The panicked response to this was spamming the 'tile, assimilate' option until the room was finished. Which didn't take long at all, as the near-empty basement storeroom was only 5 meters on the small side.

[Okay, think! First priority is to not let her leave me, ever. (at least until after birth) Preemptive buyouts are very much an option for now. Second priority is to make her leave this place safely, A.S.A.P. Without being followed, if possible. Third is heal her up and anything else she needs. Like getting rid of the collar, and freeing her from slavery. Though the last bit might count toward not being followed? Who knows how they enforce a slave's status in a magical world.]

Just then, a quiet gurgling noise interrupted his thoughts.

[And also a cheeseburger.] {Shop}

. .

[While she's busy with that, I'll spend another hundred adding the next floor up. If it takes more, I'll save that for later. In the 'maybe' folder. Hopefully that'll give me enough steady income for whatever problems come after.]

. . .

[Now for the actual rescue. Yeah, I think that might work.] {Trap, Pit, 40cm square, 40cm deep} {Trap, Pit, 40cm square, 80cm deep} {Trap, Pit, 40cm square, 120cm deep} {Trap, Pit, 40cm square, 160cm deep} . . .

The progressively deeper pits formed a set of stairs of some sort. 6 huge steps in a 2.4 meter row. Then a parallel set going the other way. And reversed twice more. To reach a total depth of just under 10 meters.

Then at the last step, a tunnel was started with {Tile, Dig}. It was only 1 meter wide, 2 meters tall and 10 meters long. From there it continues at a right angle. Then two more such bends, to make a hall that resembles the letter 'W'. A small square room of 3 meters lies at its end. Small patches of dimly glowing moss started growing in each of these sections. Not even bright enough to make out any colors, but enough to avoid accidentally walking into a wall.

Digging out the stone to make the passages and room created a new 'Resource' tab on his Status, that he won't know about 'till he checks it. Giving him a few metric tons worth of the stuff.

[I hope that'll be enough, cause I just ran out of DP's.]

The fox woman glanced over occasionally, with a mix of dread and awe. But other than chowing down on the burger, she never stopped diligently cleaning.

[There must be something else I can- What about the collar?] {Inventory}

After popping it into the Inventory skill's subspace, a list with just one entry appeared on the skill's page. It read [Cursed Iron Collar, 1.2 Kg, Effect1: When worn Spi -50, Effect2: Cannot be removed]

A short moment after removing it from her neck, she stopped cleaning altogether. Then blinked in surprise and cofusion. Before breaking down to cry.

He searched through closets upstairs for clean clothes in her size, though there was a bit of trouble doing so. [How does someone tell which ones were the correct size while they're all still folded? There aren't even any labels to read.]

The best he could do is grabbing one blouse from the exact middle in size, and also one of the next size up. Then again with skirts. While wondering why there weren't any undergarments.

Last, for now, he proceeded to Cure-1 her wounds away. Though it took a dozen castings.

¤¤¤¤¤

Dara's pov

[Mistress Jodie's beating was much worse this time, compared to the usual. She must really be upset about the money she couldn't get. But not nearly as upset as me for being forced by the runic geas to obey her. Yet still being beaten for doing so.]

She works as quickly as she dares. Cleaning up the spare basement storage as best she can, just like ordered. Too quickly or using too much strength though, and her fresh wounds and bruises flare up with pain. But if she doesn't at least try to work hard, she would feel the hated runes start to drain her extremely limited mana away.

[But what can I do? If ever a slave like me refuses an order, the runes drain their mana until they obey, or until it runs out. Whichever comes first. And when it does run out, the anguish is so much worse than a normal beating. It's almost as bad as I feel right now.]

Just then, her thoughts are interrupted by her stomach rumpling. She'd had to skip one of her only two daily meals for this ordeal, and it was now putting voice to its displeasure. What was worse, is that she might have to skip the second meal. If the Mistress doesn't allow her back upstairs after finishing.

Not even a minute later, a runic circle flashes on the floor next to her paws. When she blinks away the flash-blindness, there sits a fresh meal the size of her two hands in a double-fist. It doesn't resemble anything she's ever seen, nor even heard of.

A miniature loaf of bread, baked as a single serving, then cut in half. And stuffed inside, a plethora of meats, vegetables and delicious smelling sauces. In the center of these ingredients lies a thin cut of mellow cheese.

A whole meal to fit in one hand.

And it smells GLORIOUS!

She's never had such good food for as long as she was a slave. No, she's never even seen such good food. Not in her whole lifetime! Even when she was still with her family and tribe.

"I'll clean better when I have a full stomach."

After placating the geas, she proceeds to devour her great prize.

She didn't know it, but the geas itself was not intelligent. So trying to convince it of something would simply be futile. Rather, it works automatically by punishing her for having feelings of defiance. And since she had convinced herself of how to better obey her orders, it had nothing at all to do.

. .

After she finished her breakfast, she set back to work. But was soon distracted by a pit forming against one wall. Then another, and more after. They kept coming without any reason that could be determined. She wanted to flee from the place in terror. But her Order wouldn't allow it. Even if her owner had deigned to leave the door unlocked. Luckily, the phenomenon stopped before they got halfway.

While passing by once, she noticed [It's as deep as a three-story building is tall!]

But since the strange happenings had stopped, she could focus on finishing her task. After that she could perhaps ask to be let out of this bizarre place.

. . .

Then a few minutes later, almost at the exact same time she finished cleaning, her accursed collar vanished in an instant. As if it had simply never been. It took her a few heartbeats to even notice, but the horrible weight upon her shoulders was simply not there anymore. After feeling around her neck, she sighed in relief.

Then dropped to her knees and cried. In joy at her inexplicable salvation. From all of her pent-up fear. As well as the endless sorrow. And also her boundless rage. No. THAT, she decided to save for later, when her now former owner comes back to check up on her. She cried for hours to let out the tears of years of despair. But ever more so in exultation.

. . . .

When she finally can't cry anymore, she slowly got back up on her paws. Then she noticed the clothes waiting for her. The mid-size blouse was a bit too small for her breasts. So she redressed herself with the larger one. Of the two skirts, one was meant for humans. It lacked the tail-hole the other one had just beneath the waistband. After tucking her luxuriously thick appendage through, she used the other clothes as towels to clean herself up as best she could.

Then stalked straight for the pit-stairs without any fear or hesitation in her heart.