The first level presented little challenge—shambling zombies that crumbled under Billy's precise gunfire, Zen's devastating spells, and Aoi's lightning-fast blade work.

  As they descended deeper, walking down a spiral staircase that seemed to stretch endlessly into the earth, Aoi broke the contemplative silence. "Excuse me, Billy, but is that a Thompson submachine gun you're carrying?"

  Billy patted the weapon affectionately. "You mean this beauty? Yeah, Zen made it for me. Call it a Tommy gun."

  Aoi's eyes widened with professional interest. "That's quite impressive. I haven't seen one of those since..." He paused, memories from his previous life flickering across his features. "Since my military days."

  "You recognize it?" Billy asked, surprised.

  "Of course. The M1928A1 Thompson was legendary even in my time," Aoi replied. "A weapon from the 1920s that remained effective for decades. Why choose that particular model, Zen?"

  They reached the entrance to the second floor, where more zombies awaited—these ones faster and more coordinated than those above. Billy swung the Tommy gun around, its drum magazine catching the faint blue light of the dungeon's phosphorescent fungi.

  "Cover your ears," he warned with a grin before squeezing the trigger.

  The weapon roared to life, but instead of the familiar staccato bark of a standard Thompson, each round exited the barrel with a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning. The zombies didn't just fall—they disintegrated, their forms unable to withstand the magically enhanced bullets that tore through them.

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  When the echo of gunfire faded and the acrid smell of cordite hung in the air, Zen answered Aoi's question. "I chose it because it felt right for him. Giving Billy something too modern didn't seem appropriate. He's a gunslinger at heart—giving him a laser rifle would be like asking you to trade your kuris for a chainsaw."

  Billy chuckled as he reloaded, the spent casings disappearing into his magical ammunition pouch. "Don't get me wrong, I'd probably have fun with a chainsaw. But nothing beats the feel of a proper firearm."

  They continued through the dungeon's early floors, dispatching enemies with increasing difficulty but still managing to maintain their momentum. By the fourth floor, the zombies had evolved into armored variants that required precise targeting of their weak points.

  "Left flank!" Aoi called out, spotting a group attempting to circle around them.

  Billy pivoted smoothly, switching the selector lever on his Tommy gun. "Changing to armor-piercing," he announced, before unleashing another devastating burst. The rounds punched through the zombies' crude metal breastplates as if they were made of paper.

  Zen, meanwhile, stood with his eyes closed, hands weaving intricate patterns in the air as he muttered incantations. A moment later, three zombies attempting to approach from behind were engulfed in pale blue flames that reduced them to ash in seconds.

  "You're holding back," Aoi observed between attacks, his kuris flashing as he decapitated two more foes with a single fluid motion. "Both of you."

  "So are you," Zen countered with a knowing smile. "I sense you've barely tapped into your true capabilities."

  Aoi's expression remained neutral as he flicked blood from his blade. "Perhaps we're all saving our strength for what lies ahead."