My Refrigerator Turned Into A Dungeon

Crab’s Den

Crab! Crab! You shall become a crab!!

Yes, this is the secret training ground for the strong—the Crab’s Den. Here, the fiery battle cries of youths dreaming of tomorrow’s strength echo once more today.

"TAAARRR!!"

Upon the black rocky reefs, death-summoning claws await.

…Or so I’d like to say. This is actually just the first underground floor of the so-called Crab Dungeon. Man, spatial-linked dungeons are so convenient—easy to carry around and all.

"Too slow, too slow! At this rate, I’ll start yawning!"

With a fierce clang, Serai-san effortlessly bats away the shell-scythes of giant mussels with her bone hammer. She’s casually trash-talking while fighting two oversized mussels—way too big to count as mere "specimens"—so she’s clearly no slouch.

"Hah, TAH… TARR!"

So, what are they doing? Weapon proficiency training.

Both of them got new weapons, but against goblins, it’s always a one-hit kill—no real training there. So instead, they’re sparring with giant mussels: immobile, but with unmatched attack power and speed.

Ugh, but the stench… It’s rank. A foul, metallic, burnt-bone stench that stings even through a mask.

This stink comes from their weapons clashing violently, scraping against each other. Hell, just Serai’s bone hammer colliding with the mussels’ shells sends sparks flying like crazy.

(Hmm… Seems like these giant mussels’ shells are packed with iron. I think there’s some kind of scaly snail—uh, "scale-shelled ship snail"?—that covers itself in iron sulfide scales. Maybe it’s the same deal here…?)

"Hey, Coach, ya got a sec?"

"Hm? What’s up, Cancer Mask?"

"Cancer…? My suit’s a scorpion, so it’s Scorpio, not Cancer, yeah?"

"Ah, right, my bad. So, what’s up?"

"Sorry to ask, but can ya toss in a few more mussels?"

"Oh, that’s all? Sure, sure. Looks like you’re getting used to that new Excalibar, huh?"

"Yeah. The weight and length are just right—super easy to handle."

"Good to hear."

Heh, they’re both doing great. Gotta get those weapons nice and broken in before we dive into that dungeon we found in the mountains.

……

After working up a sweat training, we all decided to hit the hot springs.

I mean, killing monsters? No big deal. But raiding a goblin village—wiping out a whole settlement with actual daily life vibes? That messes with your head.

These mountain goblins live at Jōmon-era levels—no fire, just sticks and grass huts, some even weaving loincloths. And we just… bust in and slaughter them all.

So after battles like that, both of them go dead silent. They understand why it’s necessary, but they can’t just not feel anything.

Hence, hot springs. A cleanse for the soul. Especially Nina—she hasn’t been to one since coming here. Honestly, we’re overdue.

"Wait, why are you coming too?!"

"Pffshh! Pffshh!"

"Mmph… grr!"

But just as we piled into the car, Massive Kangaroo Masaru squeezed his way in. Now, Serai-san and Gramps are crammed uncomfortably in the back seat.

"Hey, Masaru, we’re not going to the mountains today—it’s the hot springs, got it?"

"Pffshh! Pffshh!"

Who knows if he understands, but Masaru ain’t budging. Dogs and cats? Easy to read. Kangaroos? No clue what’s going on in that head.

"Ugh, fine. Guess we’re stuck with him… If we force him out, he’ll just sulk and wreck the place while we’re gone."

"Sigh… Yeah, fair. Alright, Masaru. You can come, but behave."

"Pffshh! Pffshh!"

"Ughhh, not again!!"

"Sorry, Gramps, Masaru’s being stubborn…"

"Grmph… Just go already."

And so, the kei truck—now severely overloaded with four adults and one kangaroo—lurched forward, engine groaning in protest.

Dude, Masaru, how much do you even weigh? You’re way heavier than when you first showed up.