2-6 Into The Dungeon

I went down into the labyrinth carrying a finely bound parchment book that had cost one large silver coin.

Somehow, it really did feel like a cave down there, and the entrance was enormous.

It looked like a small rocky hill with a gaping opening punched into it.

The marks near the top—like something had forcibly gouged its way out from the inside—were especially unsettling.

If this were Japan, wouldn’t the Self-Defense Forces have sealed it off?

Near the entrance, shack-like stalls stood in rows—shops for consumables and food, and even businesses that brokered porters and hired help.

For some reason, there were a lot of children working as porters, and that bothered me.

Somehow, this city reeked of desperation.

And since I myself had once carried that same stench in the past, I understood it instinctively.

Why did a city like this exist so close to the Royal Capital, wrapped in such a shady air?

It made my mind settle in a little too easily.

No—if anything, that was a stupid question.

Of course it was because this was a dungeon city.

What really bothered me was why the Royal Capital, which should have been precious to the nation, was located near such a ruined, chaotic, hardened kind of city in the first place.

It was only two in the afternoon, so we had time.

Even if we went in today, the plan was to spend at most two or three hours.

We’d already reserved an inn, too.

Just as I’d heard, the dungeon entrance was brightly lit.

They seemed to be using expensive magic lamps.

Looks like they were making good money.

Normally, what people used in this world were oil lamps.

For an old man, meeting monsters in a dungeon for the first time had my heart about to burst with excitement.

What am I, a kid?

Unlike me, the party members were a little tense.

Yeah—this was work for them, so they had to be that way.

The area near the entrance had a certain atmosphere.

Like, “we’re heading into the dungeon now.”

It felt like there was some dramatic documentary-style staging mixed in.

Well, it was business, so it couldn’t be helped.

I’d enjoy that part too.

After all, I was basically sightseeing with a guide.

Personally, my level of tension was about the same as a tightly supervised group tour in North Korea.

Pure entertainment-level stuff.

Though honestly, North Korea would probably be more stressful.

Still, unlike North Korea—where you absolutely had to go unarmed—a dungeon let you arm yourself and hire guards as long as you had the money, so there was a sense of security.

On top of that, unlike North Korea, you could take as many photos and videos as you wanted in a dungeon.

I casually mounted a video camera onto a moving aerial filming platform and started recording.

It was in invisible mode so it wouldn’t obstruct my field of view.

One difference, though: even if a Japanese person went to North Korea, if they entered through official channels, they would definitely return alive.

Strangely enough, that country would never return the Japanese people they had abducted, yet if a Japanese person entered through official routes, they would apparently make sure they got home safely for the sake of appearances.

Traffic was sparse and roads were empty, so even the chance of a traffic accident was low.

But a dungeon was different.

Whether you made it out safely depended entirely on your skill and your luck.

I kept radar and detection skills active at all times.

In my hands, I held a mockup magic rifle.

The model was based on one used by the U.S. military.

The magic bullets it fired were a larger size—twenty millimeters in diameter.

Originally, Stone Bullet wasn’t some wimpy spell that flicked tiny pebbles a few millimeters across.

I’d set it up so that, in “Mode: Stone Bullet,” it fired hard stone projectiles instead.

Personally, the word “bullet” never made any sense to me.

The first time I saw it, I thought, “What the hell is this?”

Apparently it meant a projectile, but in Japanese it was supposed to be “bullet,” not “ballet”—or maybe it changed at some point.

As usual, I couldn’t even tell which language it had been borrowed from.

If you were going to import loanwords, at least standardize the source to English, the world’s common language.

By the way, “virus” was Latin, and Japan used to call it “virus” with a different pronunciation.

Like, “a virus from outer space.”

That’s what I called it as a kid too, and that was how it was in old movie broadcasts.

And for some reason—maybe it was English?—the common pronunciation “virus” never stuck, and instead Japanese ran off into Latin-land and settled on “virus” in a different form.

Japanese really had no discipline…

And even though it was medical terminology, why not keep it in German, which used to be used in medical charts for ages?

At least use English.

It would be a pain during international cooperation otherwise.

Word-policing in Japan didn’t help anything.

Every institution did things differently.

Even newspapers would deliberately choose different renderings than the Ministry of Education’s recommended pronunciations, or closer-to-native katakana spellings.

There were space constraints, sure, but newspapers had so much influence that their choices spread into places they shouldn’t.

Well, with newspapers fading away completely, that would probably disappear too.

In a way, it was pretty sad.

That said, my Stone Bullet was an original spell—shaping hard stone created by magic into a bullet form and imagining it spinning as it flew, with especially high penetrating power.

I’d developed it by closely imitating real bullet behavior—so much that I almost wanted to call it something like “Rifle Bullet.”

That felt strangely natural for modern people more familiar with firearms knowledge than magic.

Even more so for someone like me who’d fired real guns many times.

But the monsters—the targets I needed—weren’t showing up at all.

“No monsters, huh.”

“This area is near the entrance, so there are the most people here, and the monsters that appear are the weakest.”

So that was how it worked.

Well, we’d run into them sooner or later.

And when we did, of course I’d kill them on the spot.

“Other than it being dark, it’s surprisingly comfortable. I expected it to be more humid and smell moldy.”

“Yes. If it were like that, adventurers wouldn’t come, so the labyrinth itself is probably adjusting things to keep it comfortable.”

“What the hell is that?”

So the labyrinth was even sketchier than I’d thought.

Maybe because we’d gone a bit deeper, the lighting started getting dim.

“It’s dark—what should we do? We can use torches or lanterns.”

“No, we’ll use this.”

I floated a hundred magical light fixtures into the air.

The party members stared in shock.

The surroundings became as bright as midday.

It was brighter than LED lamps, with none of the flicker of fluorescent lights—yet it wasn’t harsh, and it was easy on the eyes.

“Well? Pretty good, right? I don’t like dark roads at night.”

“T-that’s incredible…”

“This is where a capable merchant shows off! You’re not familiar with magic tools?”

Even if they were, it would be pointless.

This was basically floating home electronics.

“Magic tools are just too expensive for us to afford.”

Ed answered with a wry smile.

Maybe high-rank adventuring teams used magic lanterns.

“Still none. Come on out. Slimeee, gobliiins~”

“U-um…”

Ed laughed awkwardly.

Maybe he was used to babysitting an old man acting like a child, but—yeah, sorry.

Still, my aging sense of adventure just wouldn’t stop.

“Since no monsters are showing up, should we take a tea break? While we talk about tomorrow and such.”

I suggested it to everyone.

Well, this was basically sightseeing anyway.

“Understood. Then, setting up.”

“All right~!”

The team answered with spirited voices.

We claimed a slightly wider space.

A safe zone in the sense that it was advantageous for keeping watch and not likely to be ambushed immediately.

Since it was just a short break and not an overnight camp, the setup wasn’t anything grand.

I pulled out an aluminum table and chairs, and served black tea and cake.

“Let’s take turns eating. Erin, you first. Women like cake.”

Her gaze had been glued to it the whole time.

The others didn’t object—more like, they couldn’t, given the atmosphere.

She took a sip of tea first, then cried out.

“Waaah, it’s sweet. Does this have sugar in it?”

“Huh. Was it too sweet?”

Did I mess up?

Maybe I should’ve started with a tart that was less sweet than cake…

“No. We almost never get to taste luxury goods like sugar.”

“Then please try the cake too. This one’s my top recommendation.”

Munch…

After a single bite, her face looked like it was melting.

“U-waaah~~”

The others stared, dumbfounded, as she blurted it out.

Erin stared intently at the plate that was already empty.

It took less than ten seconds for the cake to vanish.

Seeing that, Ed quietly offered her his own cake.

As expected of a leader—thoughtful.

Erin stared at it for a while without moving.

She didn’t even say thank you for the cake.

Then, as if steeling herself, she took the fork with the careful reverence of someone handling an orichalcum sword.

Slowly, then slowly again, and then slowly again—she savored it.

She wore an expression of bliss, as if her mind had drifted elsewhere.

The other three exchanged looks, while I gave a wry smile.

Then Erin stared at me again, so I had no choice but to give her a third piece.

I also handed Ed a fresh one for himself.

For the other two who were on watch, I cut small portions and urged them to taste.

“So that’s what it is…”

Only after tasting it did they fully understand Erin’s reaction.

“Women really can’t resist cake,” I said with a laugh.

So that rule worked even across worlds.

Thanks to that, we didn’t talk much, but this was a sightseeing trip anyway, so it didn’t matter.

Next, Ed took watch alone, and the other two joined cake time.

Still, truly no monsters appeared.

At this rate, even if the whole party fell asleep, nothing would show up.

Well, today was just reconnaissance, so we decided to give up and head back up.

But right after we turned around, a high-pitched scream tore through the darkness ahead.

When we rushed over, a child was being attacked by a slime.

The child was writhing in agony, and the unbearable screaming filled the not-so-wide corridor of the underground labyrinth!

I tried to run in, but Ed stopped me.

“Don’t get too close! If it latches on, that’s what happens.”

Yeah, I didn’t like the idea of getting latched onto either.

It reminded me of those giant amoeba-like space monsters from American movies—or those alien creatures that burst from eggs and stick to your face.

So I narrowed my target to the slime and fired off the paralysis spell, Stun.

If the child got caught in the spillover, it wouldn’t kill them.

The slime snapped inward with a whap and pulled away.

The child had passed out too.

Honestly, that was better.

They must’ve been in horrible pain.

Ugh.

The melted patches where the slime had latched onto the head were awful.

Because they were a child, it felt even more horrific.

They were lying partly face-down, and I could see deep gashes on the back and buttocks too.

I wanted to look away, but the monster was still there.

The slime, already recovering, tried to leap at us again, so I quickly shifted position to angle the child out of the line of fire and cast Flamethrower.

From my fingertip—held like a pistol—an appropriately flamethrower-like jet hissed out, and the slime vanished with the sound of water heating on a frying pan.

Then I rushed to the child and cast healing magic.

“High Heal.”

I poured a strong amount of magic power into it and layered the spell carefully, then appraised them—seemed like they were okay.

Wounds that looked like they’d become severe keloids healed rapidly, the skin regenerating cleanly before my eyes.

Looks like I was finally seeing results from leveling healing magic.

“Amazing. Normally, High Heal can’t treat a condition this severe. It requires special treatment. Or an advanced healing spell like Greater Heal, or a special alchemical medicine.”

“So that’s how it is?”

My immense magic power apparently caused effects like that.

Later, this became a good hint when I created healing magic for myself.

“Hey, are you okay?”

There was no response, so I slowly sprinkled the Cancel Potion I’d managed to obtain and copy—meant to cure status ailments—and also poured some into their mouth.

After watching for a bit, the child finally woke up, so I gave them juice.

Their eyes went wide as they gulped it down, as if their throat had been parched.

Once they regained a bit of strength, the child spoke in a trembling voice.

“Y-you… saved me? Th-thank you.”

“Why were you alone down here? Are you a porter kid?”

The child nodded.

“I came back together with them to the first floor, but then a slime attacked…”

“Where are the others?”

At that question, the child lowered their head.

“This happens often. If a slime attaches, you have no choice but to burn it. There were cuts from being slashed while they tried to recover the luggage on the child’s back. You can’t carelessly get close when a slime is latched on. They probably assumed the kid would die, and stole their belongings too. That’s how porter children are treated.”

Ed explained with a sigh.

It felt awful to leave them like that, so I put one of my T-shirts on them.

“Hmph. Fine—come with us. We’re going back to the surface.”

It wasn’t fine at all, though.

By Japanese standards, this was completely unacceptable.

As we walked, I talked with the kid.

“Hey… is life really that hard?”

“My mom is sick and can’t work, and my little brothers and sisters are still small…”

The child answered while looking down.

“Well, the work children can do is limited. Wages are cheap, so they’re used like disposable tools. They can just hire several. We don’t do that, though. Low-rank parties have low rewards, so they do it to keep costs down.”

Ah…

So this world didn’t have anything like an international children’s rights charter.

What a rotten world.

Ed also frowned, as if he didn’t like the topic.

Since it didn’t seem like everyone in this world thought it was fine, I felt a little relieved.

“What’s your name?”

“Eri.”

The child answered shyly.

So she was a girl.

She had a short cut and a bold look, so I’d assumed she was a boy.

Looking closely, she really did have a cute, girlish face.

“I’m Alphonse. I live in the Royal Capital at the moment. Nice to meet you.”

We brought her out of the dungeon to the surface, pulled out a table and chairs, and fed her cake.

After one bite, Eri’s eyes shone.

She finished it in a frenzy, and since she still looked like she wanted more, I gave her seconds.

Erin looked on enviously, but I ignored her.

You just ate three pieces by yourself, didn’t you?

“Good grief. So this is my first ‘meeting’ with a monster. Well, I did kill it properly. Anyway, take this—bring it home.”

Into a hand-carry bag, I stuffed bread, cookies, cream puffs, dried meat, soup base, salt, pepper, potatoes, and also some copper coins and a few large copper coins.

I couldn’t give too much money—that would cause trouble in all sorts of ways.

“Thank you, big brother.”

Eri bowed politely and went home.

Hahaha—big brother, huh!

That was just appearances, though.

Just as I was about to head back to the inn, someone immediately cut in.

“What was that brown thing earlier? It smelled really good…”

“Sharp eyes. Or is it a sharp nose? Alright—tomorrow’s snack is cream puffs, then.”

Erin’s eyes lit up at that.

Ed and the others wore faces like, here we go again.

Then we went into a randomly open shop and lightly discussed tomorrow over dinner.

I tried ordering ale from this world, but the taste and aroma were underwhelming.

I had plenty of beer varieties with me, so I’d use my own.

“I was using detection skills, but hardly any monsters showed up.”

“If we go further down, they’ll swarm out.”

Ed said it while tilting his cup.

“If you reach the bottom of the dungeon, do you just turn back and walk all the way out?”

That sounded like a hassle.

I wanted that famous game magic that instantly returns you to the cave entrance after an adventure.

“Yes. Here, that’s how it is. Some dungeons have warp stones. There are places—like save points—where you can return to the entrance, or teleport to floors you’ve reached from outside. The labyrinth installs them deliberately so adventurers who’ve gone back to the surface can quickly return to the dangerous deeper levels. Strange, isn’t it?”

“That! Where is it?”

I couldn’t suppress my excitement and pressed Ed immediately.

“In this country, it’s up north. Just like here, there’s a city built around it.”

Ed told me, looking a little taken aback by my intensity.

“Are there other warp stones too?”

“Yes. Our country only has those two labyrinths, but the neighboring country has ten, and eight of them have warp stones. Since they’re meant to lure adventurers into dangerous depths, many dungeons install them. It seems dungeons need to feed on humans through the monsters they create to grow.”

Now that was valuable information!

Once we got back to the Royal Capital, I’d go to the guild and research.

For now, I needed to learn dungeon exploration properly from my “teachers” here!

“I’m going to give it my all starting tomorrow!”

“Huh? O-okay…”

Ed looked confused by my weird energy, but I didn’t care.

If I played it right, I might be able to learn teleportation magic from warp stones.

And if I leveled that up, maybe I could return to Japan!

Just thinking that made me fired up.