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My well-deserved nap was, once again, interrupted. This ti, it wasn’t by an assassin or an inspector, but by a new and far more socially awkward threat: tourists.

FaeLina was in a state of panic I had never seen before. It wasn’t the pure terror of a potential dungeon destruction; it was the refined, high-strung anxiety of a first-ti event planner.

"Tourists, Mochi! They’re on their way!" she zipped back and forth. "They’re not adventurers! They won’t be impressed by a lack of danger! They’ll expect... anities! And souvenirs! We don’t have a gift shop! Our reputation is on the line!"

I was equally unenthusiastic, but for my own reasons.

’Tourists are loud,’ I thought, a deep sense of weariness washing over . ’They touch things. This is a complete disaster for my personal napping schedule.’

"We have to prepare!" FaeLina insisted. "The staff needs a crash course in high-class hospitality!"

What followed was one of the most painful training sessions I have ever had to witness.

First, FaeLina tried to teach Sloosh the sli waiter how to perform a polite, welcoming bow. Sloosh, being a creature without a spine, tried its best, but ended up just looking like a slowly lting purple puddle.

Next, she turned to Sir Crumplebuns. "Sir Crumplebuns," she said sternly. "You must tone down the ’vanquishing demons’ talk. Use tourist-friendly language like, ’Welco, valued guests!’"

Sir Crumplebuns saluted her. "I UNDERSTAND! AHEM." He turned to the entrance and bood, "WELCO, VALUED GUESTS, TO THIS FORTRESS OF UNYIELDING COMFORT! MAY YOUR HEARTS BE SWIFTLY VANQUISHED BY THE POWER OF TRANQUILITY!"

FaeLina just sighed and moved on to the Pillow Fiends, who completely failed to understand her instructions on how to arrange themselves into an aesthetically pleasing pyramid. They just wiggled happily and tried to initiate a "Code Snuggle" on her.

The only ones who passed the inspection were the Dust Bunnies, who were already perfect.

An hour later, the tour group arrived. It was Bartholow the rchant, proudly leading a small group of finely dressed n and won who looked like they would be more at ho in a palace than a cave.

"And here it is, my friends!" Bartholow announced dramatically. "The marvel of the age! The only dungeon in the world that guarantees a good night’s sleep!"

Sir Crumplebuns gave his booming, slightly-too-intense welco. The tourists clapped with delight, assuming he was a very clever animated doll.

The tour was a resounding success. The wealthy patrons were utterly chard by the Tea Nook.

"Oh, it’s so quaint!" one woman said, looking at Sloosh. "Does the little sli have a na?"

FaeLina, invisibly hovering, prompted . ’Tell them it’s... Pierre. It sounds fancier.’

’His na is Sloosh,’ I projected.

In the Hibernation Hollows, the tourists gasped in awe at the starlight ceiling and were completely smitten by the Dust Bunnies and Pillow Fiends. One man even tried to purchase a Dust Bunny as a pet for his daughter. Sir Crumplebuns had to politely inform him that the cleaning staff was not for sale.

Before leaving, they all eagerly signed the Enchanted Guestbook, leaving glowing, five-star reviews.

[Reputation with ’Common Citizens’ has greatly increased!]

Bartholow paid a handso fee in gold coins for the exclusive tour, promising to bring another, even larger group next week.

FaeLina was buzzing with triumph. "Mochi, we’re rich! We can open a real gift shop! We can sell tiny Sir Crumplebuns plushies of the actual Sir Crumplebuns plushy! The marketing potential is limitless!"

I was just tired. ’So many people. So much talking,’ I thought, already planning my next nap.

Just as a blissful quiet began to settle over the dungeon, a new notification appeared. It wasn’t a warning. It was a consequence.

[Your ’Sanctuary’ status and rising fa have attracted the attention of a new faction: ’The Dungeon Influencer Guild’.]

[Top-ranked influencer ’Dungeon-Dive Dave’ has announced his next livestream will be from ’The Comfy Corner’ to assess its unique properties.]

FaeLina read the notification and her triumphant expression lted into one of pure horror.

"Dungeon-Dive Dave?!" she squeaked. "He’s the biggest, most ruthless critic on the entire ScryNet! He once gave the legendary ’Dragon’s Maw’ dungeon a two-star review because the ambient temperature was ’a bit drafty’! If he gives us a bad review, we’ll be ruined forever!"

A new threat had arrived. And this one couldn’t be defeated with a hug or a nap. This one had a clipboard and an audience of millions.

You are reading I Was Reincarnated as a Dungeon, So What? I Just Want to Take a Nap. Chapter 28: The Hospitality Crisis on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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