Chapter 11

Once I took off the crown dropped by the Orc King, my body returned to its normal size. The comment section had been going wild, but I had been chilled to the bone.

Just the thought of what would have befallen me if I hadn’t been able to change back sent shivers down my spine. I might have literally spent the rest of my life ending up as a floor boss.

Wiping away cold sweat, I put back on the briefs that had fallen to the ground. The ticket chat ended right there, too. I switched the broadcast back to a regular live stream.

As I calmed my mood and looked around, a door leading to the sixth stratum had materialized on the wall of the boss room.

Catching viewer comments, I opened the door and walked down the stairs toward the sixth stratum.

From defeating the floor boss until reaching the transfer room of the next floor was basically a safe zone. While I wasn’t completely letting my guard down, I had enough leeway to check my smartphone.

The notification count for Twittor DMs had reached an absurd level. They were probably more complaints from female performers. Maybe I’d do a reading segment on stream next time.

Thinking about that, I walked down the stairs and reached the transfer room.

When I touched the transfer stone, numbers one through six popped into my head. My highest reached dungeon stratum had certainly been updated. From tomorrow onward, I could challenge the sixth stratum.

“Alright. The regular stream is ending here for today, too. Starting tomorrow, I’ll be taking on the sixth stratum. Look forward to it.”

The comment section scrolled past at a ferocious speed. Japanese comments were the most numerous, but English was heavily mixed in, too. The level of interest in the Somalia Dungeon must have genuinely been high.

Fiddling with my smartphone to cut the stream, I touched the transfer stone. The moment I strongly focused on the number [1], my vision was dyed white.

The Somalia Dungeon was located in a forested zone in southern Somalia. It was a place close to a river where the presence of living creatures was thick.

The reason I had come here carrying only the bare minimum of luggage was because of that. In other words, as long as I procured things locally, I wouldn’t have to worry about food.

Evening time.

I stir-fried a tilapia caught from the river and a wild-growing green papaya in a pot, poking at it directly with chopsticks while checking my smartphone.

The majority of Twittor DMs were from ExtremeChat’s female performers. Another one had come from Akane (Super Lewd).

“I’m heading to Somalia right now, so why don’t we do an off-collab hookup stream together and conquer the world?”
“Shut up, pervert,” I replied back.

What on earth did she mean by the world, anyway? I truly couldn’t understand the off-collab hookup circle.

For now, female icons were getting ignored. I’d read them out during the stream.

As I scrolled through, DMs from corporations popped up every now and then.

“Pardon the intrusion. After witnessing your activity on ExtremeChat, we thought [You’re the only one!] and decided to message you. Our company manufactures men’s chastity pants—”

[You’re the only one!] my foot! Did they think I was a pervert? What a completely rude bunch. I blocked them instantly.

I opened several other DMs from companies after that, but most of them were from adult toy manufacturers. “We would love for you to battle monsters using our products,” was written in them, but that was a stretch. These guys were taking dungeons way too lightly.

While eating my meal amidst mounting irritation, a new DM arrived. It was from Gaston, an old friend of mine.

Gaston was American, but a fan of Japanese anime and completely fluent in Japanese.

“Hey, Morokoshi! I thought I hadn’t seen you around lately, but you’re doing some interesting stuff! I’ve decided to head to Somalia too, so look out for me!”
“It’s been a while, Gaston. I thought you had already retired from the front lines, so what’s the meaning of this sudden change of heart?”

Gaston was older than me and practically pushing fifty. He was supposed to have shifted to training the younger generation recently.

“Seeing your dungeon stream, Morokoshi, I just couldn’t sit still anymore! It’s what you call blood boiling!”
“If you don’t get here fast, I’m going to clear the whole thing by myself, you know?”
“Don’t be an idiot. I’ll get over there in about a week, so don’t you dare die before I arrive!”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” I replied, and put my smartphone down. The battery was already down to its last bars.

I took the cleanly emptied pot down to the river and washed my body at the same time. A crocodile saw my figure and smoothly backed away. It probably thought it would get eaten.

If I got tired of tilapia, I’d make it crocodile next time.

Thinking about things like that, I returned to the tent, hooked up the drone camera and smartphone to the battery, and went to sleep.