Monster Company Tycoon - Chapter 37

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Monster Company Tycoon
Chapter 37
After that, Ragnar and Durahan clashed.
Durahan moved first.
Whoosh!
A massive Greatsword tore through the air with terrifying force.
With the long blade combined with Durahan’s enormous frame, a single swing brought a vast swath of space within striking range.
By contrast, what Ragnar wielded was a perfectly ordinary Longsword.
He did not dodge the Greatsword bearing down on him; instead, he raised his blade to meet it head-on.
“So this is real combat.”
Watching a clash of an entirely different dimension—something our low-ranking employees could never replicate—felt surreal.
It gripped me with the same tension as watching an action film, my palms already slick with sweat.
“Oh, I should extract combat data from this!”
This was a gift from heaven.
Now that I thought about it, this was the first time I’d seen Ragnar fight properly.
A perfect opportunity to verify with my own eyes just how powerful the former hero truly was!
And on top of that, I could assess Durahan’s combat abilities—the monster who would become our Dungeon’s new employee and our first-floor boss.
I quickly pressed my finger to the combat information section of the resume and began studying Durahan’s fighting style, cross-referencing the screen data with what I observed.
‘I need to understand this well if I’m going to manage the Dungeon properly. He’ll be our first-floor boss, after all. Employee management is the foundation of operations.’
Durahan’s primary combat technique was Great Sword Technique (A-Rank).
It was my first time seeing a monster with an A-Rank skill.
For reference, the highest Rank that goblins and skeletons possessed was D at best.
The Small Slime’s Digestive Acid Spray was C-Rank, making it the highest among our existing staff.
“Wait, just now!”
As Ragnar pressed his assault, Durahan drove his Greatsword deep into the earth, then wrenched it upward in a rough, scooping motion.
Crack!
In an instant, the erupting earth formed a towering wall between the two combatants.
“Ah, Durahan has an earth attribute, doesn’t he? I hadn’t paid attention since the other monsters lack attributes.”
The defensive technique he’d just deployed was likely Earth Backflow (C-Rank).
But suddenly I found myself curious: how were skill Ranks determined?
Did they represent merely the mastery level of a technique, or did they indicate its rarity?
Normally I’d ask Brownie about something like this, but the little potato who was usually tailing me had vanished without a trace.
I opened several more screens to search for him and found…
“Walk faster, walk! Durahan’s odds are good right now! Put all your money on him—this could be your shot at a life turnaround!”
“Waaah, Director. We have no money.”
“Gambling is wrong. *Clink.*”
The devious little potato was organizing betting pools among the staff, taking wagers on who would win the fight.
I found it so absurd I tapped the greedy Brownie on the screen with my finger.
“What on earth are you doing in a sacred workplace?”
Brownie suddenly turned and locked eyes with me through the screen.
“Huh? You can see me? Did you call me?”
“Wait—it works both ways? Can you hear me? If you can, get to my office right now!”
Moments later, the door burst open and a sulking Brownie appeared.
“I was just getting into it. Why’d you call me?”
So I could interact with staff through the screen, not just observe them.
Since I’d only used the Sacred Object once before, I hadn’t known it had such a useful feature.
With this alone, I could sit in my office and summon employees whenever I pleased.
“Workplace gambling is prohibited. You can’t do that.”
“What? Who made that rule?”
“I did.”
“…Tch. Well, can’t argue with that.”
Brownie relented without protest and settled onto my shoulder like it was a chair.
“Ah, I used it again. Can’t use it often—does it have a Cooldown?”
I picked up my pen and jotted quick notes on a fresh sheet. Earth Backflow—skill with Cooldown.
“Brownie, what’s the criteria for the Rank next to this technique?”
“A combination of the technique’s rarity and mastery level.”
“Both, then.”
“Even a pathetic technique can become excellent through refinement! Though of course, being born with a good technique from the start is the easiest and fastest path.”
“Right, right.”
How fortunate it would be if everyone were born with a silver spoon.
Perhaps Durahan’s proficiency in Great Sword Technique is high enough to give it a higher Rank. However I look at it, it seems like a fundamental skill.
“Those inferior wretches need to grow like that much faster!”
Brownie jabbed a finger at the employees who’d nearly become casualties of the bet, his voice sharp and rattling.
“Look at that! That intense combat! Only something like that deserves to be called a monster! The fundamental difference, the fundamental difference!”
“Don’t be so hard on the staff. They’re all training seriously.”
The employees were steadily improving their skills through daily hellish training under Luadis.
The ragtag, disorganized appearance from the beginning had mostly vanished now.
Even if they seemed relaxed in ordinary circumstances, once combat training began, they’d learned to sharpen their focus, their eyes glinting with intensity.
“Hmph! Still far off. Durahan, crush him! Destroy that unlucky walleye stare!”
Brownie, now fully in spectator mode, bellowed at the screen like a boisterous drunk, his words tumbling over themselves.
Had I made a mistake inviting him here?
“Oh! Did you see that technique just now?”
Durahan’s Greatsword flared crimson for an instant, then he brought it down hard against the earth, and the ground convulsed violently.
Thump-thump-thump-thump.
The shockwave reached even the floor below, a faint tremor rippling through the ceiling.
Ragnar, caught in the technique’s radius, lost his footing and stumbled for a moment.
‘Some kind of Crowd Control Ability, perhaps?’
[Earth Vein Shattering (B)]—rather than dealing direct damage to the enemy, it was a skill designed to obstruct movement and restrict action.
“You’ve got some excellent techniques, don’t you? Should’ve grabbed you sooner. You said he could take any salary, right? Let’s just work him for free!”
“I don’t want to turn this Dungeon into a sweatshop. The better the talent, the better we need to treat them.”
“No way! You’ve got to squeeze them dry!”
“And what if they say they’re leaving for another Dungeon?”
“We hold their head over them. Chihuahua, you’re too naive. From now on, make sure we’ve got each monster’s weakness secured, so they can’t just run off to another Dungeon without fear—”
“I don’t want to do that! I really want to build a truly good Dungeon.”
“Tch, you’re simple.”
Though he grumbled, Brownie’s attitude had softened noticeably—my words from moments ago hadn’t sit ill with him after all.
Fortunately, after Brownie finally closed his mouth, I could watch the battle in peace.
‘But isn’t something about this fight… off?’
At first, the real combat had simply seemed thrilling and impressive.
Yet at some point, a subtle sense of wrongness crept in.
“Brownie, doesn’t it seem like Ragnar is… holding back?”
“What?”
“And the way their duel unfolds—it’s as though they’d promised beforehand. Everything slots together perfectly.”
The initial ferocity had already mellowed considerably.
Blades met and parted, then tangled again.
When Durahan swung his Greatsword, Ragnar received it smoothly, as if he already knew its arc; when Ragnar thrust through an opening, Durahan turned his body fluidly and let the strike slide away.
These were no longer the movements of people fighting to the death.
Rather, they moved like those who had crossed swords countless times before.
It was less a desperate duel than a practice bout—two people who had spent so long sparring with each other that their movements had become instinctive, naturally synchronized.
And Luadis’s expression, which had been rigidly tense, had eased considerably.
“Ah… they’ve made peace.”
The understanding came unbidden.
With the noise of combat drowning them out, I couldn’t properly hear what they said each time their blades crossed.
But there was no need to listen.
With each exchange of strikes, the two of them were gradually shedding the feelings they’d harbored in their hearts, following Luadis’s intention.
I’d never noticed before that Ragnar, who always wore such an impassive face, possessed such a variety of expressions.
When this battle ended, there seemed only one outcome awaiting them.
That despite being separated by life and death, the two were still friends.
The fact that once they’d been closer than anyone—that much hadn’t changed.
‘A reconciliation only the two of them could manage.’
“Hey, Chihuahua! Look at that! Walleye’s crying! Heh-heh, and here he’s a grown man weeping like a kid!”
Brownie, his eyes locked on the screen, suddenly pointed and cackled with delight.
“What? Ragnar’s crying?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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