Chương 142: CDM 3, Chapter 18: Industry Research

Enforcer de Saint dropped a link to a new study into our Dungeon Diva's group chat.

"This will probably blow up soon," she wrote.

"I don't think it will be received well, btw." A moment later, she added,"You don't have to read the whole thing. Just the abstract." I was lying in bed beneath six or seven blankets when the message came through. It was past 1 a. m. I meant to be asleep two hours ago but got hypnotized by the dopamine cadence of scrolling my feed.

I clicked into the article: The Stage 2 Hypothesis suggests that the relative difficulty of dungeon gates is trending upward at an alarming rate and warns that if such trends continue, humanity may reach a point where the overwhelming challenge of dungeon gates is catastrophically unmanageable (Tesfaye et al., 2025; Bandi et al., 2026). The recent discovery of antimana (Resmith et al., 2026) and active mana (Collins et al., 2026) led many to speculate about their potential role in Stage 2 trends.

Like this field of inquiry as a whole, our research into active mana is still nascent. We have years and years of experiments and peer review ahead of us before we can make definitive statements about active mana, its role in dungeon gates, and potential impacts of rising active mana levels. That said, our early findings are extremely troubling. Using the MIT method for detecting and measuring active mana (Collins et al., 2026), our research suggests that gates emit significant levels of active mana across the duration of their existence, but this process is not strictly passive. An open gate does not appear to leak mana perpetually, but rather we have observed a release of active mana every time a gate is used. For our purposes, we define "gate use" as any time a human enters or exits the dungeon. Active mana is released when a person enters, and active mana is released when they exit.

Our best guess at this time is that active mana is a byproduct of whatever force enables travel between dimensions. So far, it appears that higher-ranked gates release more mana per traveler than lower-ranked gates, which is interesting for a few reasons. First of all, this finding could be what solves our ability to accurately predict gate difficulty in a Stage 2 world (Bandi et al., 2026). Second, the total net mana output of an upper-ranked gate is even more significant than the per-traveler cost might suggest.

Because of gate harvests, upper-ranked gates are more likely to be open longer, often for the full lifecycle of the gate because the contents are so valuable (Moyo et al., 1979, Jean-claude et al., 1993, Ndlovu et al., 2016). Those harvest operations tend to be larger, which results in more harvesters using the gate with greater frequency (Ndlovu et al., 2016).

Our findings suggest that active mana generated from crawlers using gates is negligible compared to the volume of active mana that harvester traffic generates. The realities of a busy harvest site for a B- or A-ranked gate suggest hundreds of gate crossings per day (Ndlovu et al., 2016). The other major source of active mana is the use of mana crystals as fuel. The reaction that generates the energy we desire releases active mana as a byproduct (Collins et al., 2026).

This news was shared alongside the publication of active mana's discovery, so this is not a unique finding of our research, but it bears repeating because of all the activities that don't appear to release active mana (Bandi et al., 2026; Collins et al., 2026). According to our preliminary findings, resources other than mana crystals removed from gates do not release active mana. Wild monsters do not release active mana. System use, including spells and abilities, does not produce active mana.

If the link between rising active mana levels and increases in gate difficulty ends up being causal, as the Stage 2 Hypothesis suggests, our findings suggest that it is within our power to stop that progression. However, the effort would be substantial and incredibly challenging for the world economy. Our research suggests that the best–and, perhaps, only–way to halt the progression of Stage 2 would be to cease the use of mana crystals as fuel sources globally and to cease all dungeon gate harvest operations.

With only crawlers entering and exiting dungeon gates, the timeline for the extreme dangers of Stage 2 would be pushed out by centuries instead of decades (Tesfaye et al., 2025), giving our species more time to properly investigate and prepare for this eventuality. I started to type a reply, but Nathan whispered from across the room.

"Bro, you're up?" he asked. I guessed he had seen my typing notification in the group chat.

"Yeah."

"Pretty funny, right?"

"I'm not sure I follow," I replied.

"Stop using mana crystals and stop harvesting gates? Not a chance anyone even entertains that."

"You don't think? This is an existential threat. How do you not take it seriously?"

"Too much money, dude. That's thousands of jobs that would disappear, and then tech would have to step backward by like 40 years if we stopped using mana crystals."

"Yeah, that's true, but…"

"How am I the one being the pessimist here?" Nathan asked, his voice echoing through the dark.

"That's usually your job."

"You're right. This is weird. I just feel like the stakes are too high to ignore."

"Yanking the plug would be a disaster," he continued.

"Do you collapse society now or hope you figure something out before Stage 2 eats us? I think you have to punt on this."

"Punt?"

"Uhh… Football metaphor. Kicking it down the road, so to speak."

"You should call Lenny and ask his take on it," I joked. Nathan laughed.

"He hasn't invited me to the weekly billionaire poker games lately. Probably a spam filter issue or something."

"Probably." This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"When do you think we'll hear about Kimmy going pro?"

"I don't know," I answered.

"I got the impression they wanted to move quickly, but that doesn't mean the links up the chain follow along." My phone rang.

"A D gate needs cullers by 4: 00 a. m. Are you available?" I strongly debated declining. I was tired, but I also hadn't been on a crawl recently. I missed the feel of drawing my bow.

"Yes," I said.

"Thank you for your service. I am texting you the address now."

"See you on the other side," Nathan said as I forced myself out of bed and into the cold. The gate appeared on railroad tracks that ran along the Ohio River and through McKees Rocks. Most of the surrounding area was demolished industrial sites, the ghosts of foundations for warehouses and storage structures sat among blocks of jackhammered concrete and old rebar. A mini neighborhood of three streets was tucked in this corner, isolated from the rest of the city by the tracks and the decay.

I was the second to arrive, and I parked next to the only car anywhere remotely close to the site. Intern Ali waved at me from his driver's seat. Wanting to stretch my legs a bit before the crawl began, I took a quick walk down the tracks to the gate. On the way, I looked up and waved at the RAID drone hovering overhead. I couldn't recall who was scheduled for the overnight. Not long ago, I watched as an S-gate appeared as a giant monkey head in the middle of the city.

Though the gate before me now was simple, it felt just as unusual. Instead of a wood, stone, or metal passage that accompanied most gates, this one looked like an arch of loose dirt three and a half feet high, something akin to a hand-dug tunnel. Were this the side of a hill, the opening might not have seemed that strange, but real dirt couldn't form a freestanding ring like this and hold its shape. This was inert mana, though, not real dirt.

"That's the gate?" Ali asked, coming up behind me.

"I think so."

"I've never heard of a gate like that." I shook my head.

"Me neither." Which was why I already had my phone out, searching the description against the numerous dungeon guides available online.

"This kind of gate has been seen 35 times in the U. S., and in all cases, it was either kobolds or goblins in a mine-like dungeon." None of the notes or entries I saw described it as anything remarkable or concerning.

"Should be an easy night then," Ali said, bouncing to keep warm. I got the sense he was trying to make conversation but was socially nervous, if not a bit awkward. I could empathize.

"Maybe," I replied.

"Always best to assume the worst."

"Right, yes. Of course." He paused for a moment, studying my face.

"Is something the matter, Enforcer Gray?" That was a good question, I thought. Is something the matter? Nothing suggested that I should be worried, but a sense of unease had crawled into my bones. The longer I looked at the upright hole on the train tracks, the harder it became to deny the feeling creeping beneath my skin.

"Enforcer Gray?" Ali repeated.

"Sorry, no. Nothing is wrong. All of the guides say it's a rare style of gate, but the interior is standard D-gate."

"You're looking at it like it's a strange dog, and you don't trust the fence between you." I chuckled.

"That's very specific." Ali shrugged.

"Lots of sketchy dogs in this neighborhood. My mama made sure I knew to keep my head up and to not trust them." Right, I forgot that Intern Ali had grown up in this part of the city.

"Did your family live close to here?"

"Nah. About 2 miles back toward the city. Wouldn't leave anything good in your car, by the way."

"They can take the whole car if they want." Ali laughed. Two other cars pulled in, so I walked back to start gearing up, but the feeling of unease followed me. I sent Megan a text letting her know I was getting ready to run a D gate. Nothing was wrong, but if she hadn't heard from me in 3 hours, please let Enforcer Chapman know. A baseless suspicion felt like a poor reason for being paranoid.

But then again, I was somehow 27% more likely to end up in a variant gate than any other person working out of the Pittsburgh CDM office. When de Saint heard about my adventures a while back, she looked it up. The sample size was too small for that to really mean anything, as I hadn't run that many gates relative to someone who had been with the agency for four years or more, but poking fun at Dorion's mathematically proven bad luck was more important than statistical significance.

The two cars that had just pulled in were CDM, and the truck that arrived a few minutes later had two settlers. I recognized the captain's stocky build and barrel chest. We had done several runs together already, the most memorable being a squid run that ended up having a bloodlocked door and canals full of snappers. One of the settlers, a kid with shaved blonde hair who couldn't be older than 19, was familiar too. It took me a few moments to think about it, but this settler was on that squid run as well.

"While yinz get your pants on, I'm going to take a look at our gate," the captain said, already partway down the tracks. He returned a few minutes later.

"Never seen a gate that looks like that," the captain mused when he returned to the group, his eyes on his phone.

"Guides say goblins or kobolds, so if everyone keeps their eyes open, we'll have a clean crawl. Never underestimate these little bastards. They're ruthless and sneaky as all hell. If I get run through with a goblin spear because one of you was slacking off, I'm sending you the bill." The captain gave the nervous laughter a moment to quiet before speaking.

"Alright. Let's do our part to keep Pittsburgh monster-free. On me, crawlers." We got on our hands and knees to enter the gate, and the captain was already cursing when I came through.

"Everyone hold here," he grumbled, looking down at the dirt floor of the mine shaft. Several sets of sneaker prints suggested people milled about at the entrance before venturing deeper into the dungeon.

"Fucking crashers in a D gate," the captain spat.

"What a pain in the ass. I'm going to step out and call this in."

"What does it mean if crashers are already inside?" the blonde settler asked.

"Just to be on guard," the guard answered.

"The better question is why RAID didn't alert us."

"Could be the crashers got in before the drone arrived," I offered. Ali nodded.

"Yeah, that's something kids used to do a lot around here. If there was word of a new gate, we all wanted to go throw rocks at it and dare each other to go inside. Pretty rare for someone to do a full crash, though." The captain returned.

"Alright. Sorry about the delay. Let's get this done." The party followed the captain deeper into the mine. We soon found a set of ruined cart tracks. The wood planks had rotted to musty splinters. and the metal of the tracks bent in some places and had whole sections missing in others. I tried to follow the footprints of the crashers, but after a dozen yards, the ground hardened, and the pieces of debris were larger. The party of crawlers stomping along in front of me didn't help, and I quickly lost the trail.

We came to a crossroads in the mine tunnels. We could turn right, left, or go straight.

"Huh," the captain grunted, looking around the corner to our left.

"Guard, you ever see pits in a D?" The guard threaded through the party to the front with the captain and leaned around the left-hand corner to get a better look.

"Looks like a collapse? Yeah, that's weird." The captain pondered it for a few more moments before leading us straight.

"Enforcer Gray…" Ali whispered.

"Something about this bothers you, doesn't it?"

"A bit."

"Maybe we should turn back then. Report this."

"Hey!" the captain hissed.

"Comms discipline. Don't need the whole dungeon knowing we're on our way." The tunnel gently curved to the right, and we stopped again.

"Dead end," the captain announced, a timbre of frustration gruffing his voice.

"Turn back. We'll-" The floor collapsed.