95

Q. What do you think I should do to avoid becoming a monster in both body and mind?

A. The hell are you talking about?

My worries would surely have been handled like that back in Imperial days.

Feeling nostalgic for that era, I arrived at the ruined city of Eilqueel and, without fuss, went straight to the spot I had used as a bed last time, brushed off the dust, and immediately set about sleeping preparations.

It was night—couldn’t be helped.

I sensed goblins in the city, but if I shut the entrance it should be fine.

I doubted any idiot would mess with me, and even if they did, it would wake me up—I should be okay.

‘Today I’m beat,’ I thought, flopping onto my same old DIY cot, closing my eyes, and waiting for my consciousness to drop.

By the time I noticed, it was morning.

Sure enough, after long hours of activity, I slept like a log.

Now then, I wanted to put something solid in my stomach, but first I would give the city a quick cleanup.

This time I would leave a few goblins alive so they learned that living here meant getting killed.

I wasn’t sure goblins could learn, but I visited irregularly and slaughtered them often enough that they might remember.

So, before breakfast, I culled about fifty.

I didn’t think it had even been two months since my last visit, but these things really sprouted back fast.

After that, I went into the forest, brought down a hog, returned, butchered it, and started making breakfast.

As I grilled meat on an iron plate, I looked around and thought, “What should I bring back this time?”

Nothing in particular caught my eye, so after finishing my meal on the cracked roadway, I started tidying up.

While the griddle and dishes air-dried, I entered the shopping mall to scrounge for “anything useful.”

“I want tableware. I also need cleaning tools… What else would I need for guests?”

Lumbering along, I peered into shops one by one.

Then one store caught my eye.

“…Watches, huh.”

They no longer ran.

But their technical value was undeniable.

In that case, how about a hand-wound pocket watch?

I moderately wrecked the entrance and squeezed inside.

The shop had already been looted, but I checked the back room too.

After rummaging a while, I found all the wristwatches totaled.

There were mantel clocks, but none would run—and I couldn’t make them run.

With key-wound pocket watches I felt a “maybe…,” but I couldn’t find the crucial item.

I dragged out box after box and checked the contents until I finally found what I was after.

“Ah, I think this is…”

I even recognized the logo on the pocket watch.

It was from the manufacturer in those TV commercials: “Still fine after 100 years.”

That boded well, so I took out all five pocket watches left in the box.

“Whether they run or not, I can check later… Let’s grab a few other samples.”

I snatched two or three compact mantel clocks and put them in a basket before leaving the watch shop.

Next, as I headed to secure tableware, I realized something.

It was truly “now you notice?” stuff, but most high-value, easy-to-carry items had been looted.

Naturally, I had already confirmed that all the silverware was gone, but I hadn’t checked any jewelry stores yet.

It was surely hopeless, but hidden caches or vault contents might have survived.

Thinking I might trade with elves or the Furon Council someday, I figured it was best to bring back some valuables.

I decided to gather necessities first, then search, so I made the rounds and collected what I wanted.

Before long, yet another “mountain” had formed in the mall.

At this now-customary sight, I couldn’t help but give a wry smile.

Rather than “I want this and that,” the pile was the result of hauling anything that “looked decent.”

Which meant I now had to select only what I truly needed from it.

After about an hour of sorting, I found I needed nothing beyond what I had planned.

What on earth had possessed me to bring pet supplies and a cat-ear headband?

I must have grabbed things in the heat of the moment; I couldn’t remember.

(Anyway, a pocket watch will do as a return gift for Number Six… and I’ll hit the bookstore just in case.)

I picked up the now-dry griddle and widened the entrance to a small bookshop I was heading for.

Inside, I squeezed through the cramped stacks and hunted for books.

When I picked up a cat photo book, I remembered.

“Ah right, the pet supplies were for Dame Oppai.”

To be blunt, it was for mischief.

I had predicted that if I gave Number Six a return gift, Dame Oppai would say, “What about me?”—so I planned to hand her the pet supplies.

It was meant to carry the message, “You’ve got nothing better to do than take care of a pet, right?”—but I couldn’t find a cat-tail accessory and gave up halfway.

Those pet supplies were the remnants of that plan.

At any rate, I grabbed fashion magazines in decent condition and photo books of cats and dogs.

“…I can’t quite picture her being thrilled.”

Maybe books were unnecessary.

I decided to pick something for myself and looked for new releases that had come out while I’d been sleeping.

Choosing copies in good condition, I stood and read—and by the time I noticed, a lot of time had passed.

The sun was near its zenith; I must have been reading for two hours.

I returned the manga to the shelf, went back to the mall, and packed the sorted tableware and household goods into my backpack.

Seeing I still had room, I moved on.

Target: a jewelry store or a bank—in short, a sweep for leftovers.

I wanted to check whether any precious metals or gemstones remained, but not knowing the locations, I could only search.

So I wandered the ruined city.

At the same time I checked for goblins; if any idiots hadn’t fled yet, I culled them on sight.

After marching the main street for a while, I found a bank—its looting was obvious.

Inside was a disaster as well; two centuries had made it worse, to the point you could scarcely tell what it had been.

I picked my way over rubble and shattered glass toward the back, but as expected, the vault was open and there seemed nothing portable left.

I trudged back out and resumed walking the cracked main thoroughfare.

Two more hours of exploration turned up no jewelry store.

Instead, I found a large ransacked house; when I entered, I discovered an unopened safe.

I smashed it and obtained several rings and other jeweled adornments.

It wasn’t what I’d planned, but my instincts weren’t bad—I left the city of Eilqueel.

So this haul was: tableware and daily goods, folding chairs, and accessories.

And the headliners—pocket watches. Not a bad lineup.

As a bonus, I also brought back the cat-ear headband—call it a bit of charm.

Even if Number Six refused, if I sweet-talked Dame Oppai she’d probably wear it.

(Elves with cat ears… now that’s new. Damn, I should’ve searched for more of that sort of gear while I was at it.)

I considered going back to look, and while scanning the mall I got an idea.

“That’s it. If there are clothes in good condition, I’ll bring those.”

Then, if a guest ever needed a change, I could casually offer them.

Picturing Number Six in a uniform, I changed plans and started another sweep.

There was still space in my backpack; neatly folded clothes would let me cram in a decent number.

Just then, something caught my eye.

“…Underwear?”

Careless of me.

Clothes were one thing—but I’d forgotten the essentials.

Underwear—the thing that would make an elf’s already illicit figure even more dangerous.

(I’d forgotten. Chasing naked bodies at the river, I’d overlooked the glory of underwear.)

I regretted it.

If only I’d thought of it sooner—had I brought women’s underwear back, I could have enjoyed Dame Oppai’s inevitable misunderstanding all the more.

But it wasn’t too late even now.

Trusting there would be a “next time,” I wedged my upper body into the shop and began careful selection, piece by piece.

Naturally, anything on display was no good.

I needed to find intact stock in the storeroom.

I shoved shelves aside to make a path and reached the back room.

From the outside, it must have looked awful—a monster rummaging through women’s underwear—but I was past the point of caring.

I secured plenty, though it wouldn’t all fit in my pack, so I pared it down—

Because, come on, I even found black garters as a clincher. No way I was leaving those.

All that remained was how to get someone to model the set.

On the run back to base with my backpack, that was all I could think about.

I thought it through.

If staying on the battlefield shortened the time I could remain human, then I should go the opposite way.

Which meant I needed healing—comfort—right now.

So this lingerie would surely extend my lifespan as a human.