Chapter 68 - A Dangerous Old Man
“Well then, what should I buy when I head into town~?”
It had been a while since her last outing, and she was looking forward to picking up handkerchiefs, embroidery thread, and maybe some little things to decorate her personal items with—then spend the day relaxing.
As for good food... well, the meals inside the dungeon were far better now, so that wasn’t much of a draw.
Other than that…
Huh?
Captain Touji was standing in front of the mansion.
Was it a hallucination?
“Hey, Vihita. Heard you’ve got some revolutionary new training method?”
What in the world? The hallucination was talking.
“Sorry to barge in so soon after you returned from the Hot Spring Dungeon, but could I borrow some of your time?”
Huh?
Don’t tell me Her Majesty Yuuza actually sent Captain Touji here?
Is she trying to destroy my rare and precious little vacation, right after I got back from the dungeon? Your Majesty?!
“Sorry to disturb your break. Her Majesty sends her apologies... and this.”
Saying that, Captain Touji handed me one bottle of whiskey and one of Japanese sake.
Wait, what?
Was I allowed to treat these as my personal belongings?
Unless it was through an invitation from Lady Auf herself, I would never be able to afford something like this under normal circumstances.
I’d only gotten a small taste of it right after returning from the dungeon, but it was so delicious... If this was mine to keep, I would gratefully accept it.
Cutting my vacation short? Sure, no problem.
“Understood. I’ll fetch Lady Auf. She’s actually far more knowledgeable about the potions than I am.”
With that, I tucked the bottles into my going-out bag—then, under the pretense of calling for Lady Auf, I immediately rushed to my room and carefully stashed the drinks deep within my private belongings, where no one could see.
Now, whenever I returned to my room, I can enjoy that liquor whenever I like.
This was a major victory.
Humming happily, I set off to call Lady Auf.
♨♨♨♨♨
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Captain Touji. I’ve heard much about your exploits on the battlefield.”
“...Ah, yes. A pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Auf, daughter of the Duke.
I’ve also heard quite a bit about your many contributions to dungeon research—from both Her Majesty and Vihita.”
...So small. So thin.
That was Captain Touji’s immediate impression of Auf.
She should’ve been well into adulthood, but her appearance was absurdly youthful and frail.
Her arms and legs were skinny, her body thin, and she looked like someone who’d never exercised in her entire life—not even once.
Had she not been a duke’s daughter, the first words out of her mouth might’ve been, “Hey, are you eating properly?”
“Well then, let’s begin. Here’s the compiled list of effects from the temporary power-up foods. Please review this document first.”
With that, Auf produced a thick stack of papers.
It looked like it’d take quite a while to go through.
Captain Touji reached for the top sheet, then turned to her subordinates behind her and said,
“You lot read this too.”
From the back came mumbled responses like, “Whaaat?” and “Haven’t read in a while...” and “Think I can manage?”
Auf and Vihita were momentarily stunned by the almost surreal behavior of the First Unit.
As Captain Touji flipped through the materials, her expression gradually turned dubious.
“...What’s this one? ‘Whole body blinks on and off for a few seconds’?”
“That... well, your whole body just blinks for a few seconds—around three seconds, I believe?” Vihita replied.
During that time, enemy attacks became ineffective—much like a character in an action game.
But since this was a different world where people didn’t even know what games were, no one would ever think, “Hey, what if I stab someone while they’re blinking? Will it go right through?!”
So to Vihita, “blinking body” was just another incomprehensible and meaningless effect.
There were other effects too—like the one where your whole body glowed a faint green. That one was equally baffling.
In reality, it boosted resistance to magical attacks—but there weren’t any enemies in this world who actually used magic in battle.
Because the Hot Spring Master had set the system up like a game, buffs that made no sense in this world—like “magic resistance”—still popped up, even though the concept of offensive magic didn’t even exist here.
Still, there were some effects that had been figured out. When the body glowed white, it meant increased physical toughness. When it glowed blue, it boosted heat resistance. So even if some effects seemed ridiculous, they couldn’t be dismissed entirely.
Because of this, to the people of this other world who had no knowledge of video games, the list of bizarre and incomprehensible effects just kept going—and as they read through it, the members of the First Unit gradually developed headaches.
“Um... excuse me, but... are we expected to actually memorize all of this?”
After reading a good chunk, Captain Touji hesitantly asked Auf.
“No, we’ve also prepared a version that just summarizes the key training points. But...”
“But...?”
“Isn’t reading through stuff like this super fun?”
Lady Auf replied with a pure, cheerful smile, free of any malice.
Her eyes sparkled with innocent delight.
At that moment, Captain Touji recalled something Her Majesty Yuzha had said.
Now that she thought about it, even though it was Auf who had compiled all these dungeon documents, Her Majesty had specifically told her to ask Vihita about the training methods.
She was starting to understand why.
The summary version of the training document outlined various hypotheses—such as performing strength training after using a power-up buff or exercising while under the effects of a stamina recovery buff. It was still fairly technical and tedious to read, but...
Unlike before, Captain Touji was now poring over the pages with sparkling eyes, utterly engrossed. In the end, it wasn’t that she disliked dense data—it was just that she and Auf had completely opposite tastes in what they found exciting. In other words, they were kindred spirits in their own way.
“By the way, Captain Touji... there’s something I’d like to ask of you, personally.”
Auf’s expression turned serious as she locked eyes with her.
“For the sake of these training methods, I expect you’ll be spending a good amount of time inside the Hot Spring Dungeon.
During that time, it’s likely you’ll discover a new floor—or a new hot spring.
If that happens... when you go to enter that new hot spring, I’d like you to post this on the wall nearby.”
As she spoke, Auf produced a large folded cloth.
When she unfolded it, it revealed densely written text across its surface.
The contents included requests like: “This food effect is just too confusing—please show us a clearer way to identify it” or “Here’s how we value certain dungeon items in the Kingdom of Sepans.”
“And this is... what, exactly?” Touji asked.
“It’s a letter... to the dungeon’s will, maybe?
At the very least, I can’t help but feel that someone—or something—is watching our actions from within the dungeon.
And based on that information, it’s like the dungeon is experimenting—trying to guess what we’re looking for.
So the solution is simple. If the dungeon is curious, let’s just offer up the information we want it to know.”
There had been a recent theory circulating among dungeon researchers: that dungeons might possess wills of their own.
Touji was familiar with it. In fact, she knew there were even researchers actively trying to communicate with dungeons.
But most of those researchers were seen as oddballs, barely one step removed from madmen.
Touji had spotted such eccentrics before—strange old men mumbling at dungeon walls in the shallow floors, day after day, convinced they were on the verge of a breakthrough.
“If only the Dungeon-sama would answer me, my name would go down in history...” they'd mutter with wild, fevered eyes. Truly dangerous types.
“There must’ve been a fair number of researchers who’ve tried talking to dungeons in the past,” Auf said, “But so far, no one’s ever gotten a response. Why do you think that is?”
“That’s because... the dungeons aren’t listening, right?”
Touji replied vaguely, her answer open to multiple interpretations—either that the dungeons had no wills at all, or that they simply weren’t paying attention.
If dungeons did have wills, then the prime suspect would be the demons rumored to dwell within their depths. But even those beings were seen only once every few decades.
Trying to seek them out and initiate a conversation? That was practically impossible.
“Well, yes. The dungeon is vast, and the number of people inside is enormous. So if someone, somewhere, happens to speak to the dungeon, its will likely won’t even notice.
But... if I were the dungeon’s will, monitoring invaders to learn what they desire, I think I’d at least watch over how the newest floors are explored.
And I’d pay even closer attention to the strongest explorers.
In other words, Captain Touji... the moment you step into a brand-new hot spring on a newly discovered floor—that is the moment the dungeon’s will is most likely to be watching.”
When she put it that way, Captain Touji found herself nodding. If she were the dungeon’s will and had to choose where to focus, then yes—it would be on the actions of the strongest adventurers challenging the latest depths.
She certainly wouldn’t be watching some muttering old man rambling near the entrance.
“I think the Hot Spring Dungeon is perfect for this kind of approach.
In most dungeons, while the latest floors may be observed to some extent, we can’t pinpoint exactly when or what is being seen.
For example, I heard that Vice-Captain Yunev is currently exploring the latest floor of the No-Hunger Dungeon. But even if she were to open that letter during her break, the odds that the dungeon’s will would be watching at that very moment are... not very high, wouldn’t you say?”
If the hypothesis held any truth, then soaking in a newly discovered hot spring might indeed be the most opportune moment to make contact with the dungeon’s will.
And all she had to do was display the cloth while relaxing in the bath. Didn’t sound like too much trouble.
“All right, I’ll do it,” Touji replied. “So, I just need to spread it out while I’m soaking?”
“No, just stick it on the wall and leave it there. That’s enough.
The cloth should be absorbed into the dungeon after a few days. And if that happens, there’s a chance the dungeon might actually take it back and read it in detail.”
Looking closely, the cloth had large text that summarized major requests and informational highlights, but it was also covered in extremely fine writing.
Writing so tiny and dense that it couldn’t possibly be read from a distance.
She wondered how many hours—tens of hours—it must have taken this girl to handwrite every one of those tiny letters.
The sheer effort, driven by a pile of unproven hypotheses stacked on top of each other... even Captain Touji was starting to sense something unhinged about Auf’s devotion.
There was no evidence that the dungeon could take the cloth home and read it carefully.
There wasn’t even concrete proof that the dungeon had a will. Or that it could read.
“I... I see... Understood.
“Um... Lady Auf, may I ask—was this idea something you came up with entirely on your own?”
“Hmmm... saying ‘on my own’ might be a little misleading.
There’s a dungeon researcher I correspond with—through letters—who’s been proposing similar theories for a long time now.
So I suppose... I’ve been influenced by their ideas.”
Upon hearing that, Captain Touji immediately pictured a certain someone—that weird old man who stood muttering to the dungeon walls every single day.
“But... I just don’t think the method of standing around in the shallow floors and talking to the dungeon daily is enough to get its attention.”
So it is that dangerous old man, isn’t it?!
What kind of person was she exchanging letters with?! She’s a duke’s daughter for heaven’s sake!
Captain Touji’s thoughts screamed in silent disbelief.
Her first impression of Auf had been: thin, small, frail—someone who looked like she barely ate.
Her midway impression had shifted to: a curious, slightly troublesome girl who threw herself into research with abandon.
And now? Her current impression was: an unsettling, utterly unknowable person.
Comments
Post a Comment