Prologue

“Hey, customer, you’ve got enough money to pay for all this, right?”

The bartender asked with a hint of concern as he cleared away an elegant glass.

His gaze rested on a black-haired young man in his mid-twenties. Seated at the counter, the young man had been ordering his way through the menu, starting with the most expensive dishes. He had already polished off four plates and was still studying the menu.

The black-haired young man, Wakusari Tōru, replied in the language of this world, which had long since become second nature to him.

“You want me to pay in advance? It’d be easier to settle everything at once, though. Otherwise, calculating the bill could get complicated. Oh, and where was that wine from? It was pretty good.”

As he answered the bartender, Tōru casually reached into his wallet and placed a gold coin on the counter.

The bartender stared at him in astonishment.

“You’ve certainly got plenty of money for someone so young.”

“Not really. But I figured I’d splurge for once today. Anyway, about that wine?”

“It’s from Flaretalia. Nothing particularly rare, but it had a lovely fragrance, didn’t it?”

“I don’t know much about wine, but I liked how the flavor faded away so cleanly.”

“Hmm. If you’ve got money to spare, how about I bring out something even better? I’ve got a rare liqueur called ‘Bloody Aquavit.’ You’ve already had four glasses of wine, haven’t you? Why not try something different?”

“Sure, I’ll have that.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, or even asking the price, Tōru placed his order and began picking at a plate of sautéed mushrooms and vegetables.

As the bartender retrieved a red glass bottle from the shelf, he struck up another conversation with Tōru.

“You said you wanted to splurge today. Is it some kind of special occasion?”

“Haha! A special occasion, huh? I like that. Yeah, let’s call it a special occasion.”

“Are you drunk already, even if you’re not showing it?”

“Of course I’m drunk. I’ve been drinking, haven’t I? Besides, calling today a special occasion isn’t entirely wrong.”

Tōru let out a low, sardonic chuckle.

Nine years earlier, when he was fifteen, Tōru had suddenly arrived in this world.

There had been no warning whatsoever. He had simply been transported to another world without explanation.

Yet he was neither a chosen hero nor someone blessed with extraordinary powers. He was nothing more than a foreigner who had arrived in this world without any particular purpose.

He had changed his name from Tōru, written with the characters of his native world, to the more familiar-sounding Tōru used here, and traveled far and wide searching for a way back to Earth.

Nine years had passed since then.

“You know, I’m just tired. So I thought maybe it was time to give up. But then I couldn’t sleep.”

Seeing Tōru smile with an exhaustion that seemed out of place on someone his age, the bartender looked uncomfortable and poured the red liquor into a glass.

After confirming that Tōru was his only customer, the bartender picked up a sign reading “Closed for Today.”

He hung it at the entrance, returned to the counter, took out another glass, and poured himself a drink before gently clinking it against Tōru’s.

“It’s a special occasion, right? It’d be a shame if you had nobody to celebrate with, so I’ll keep you company.”

“That’s awfully kind of you. …Whoa, this stuff’s pretty strong.”

“But it’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It’s got a lovely, rich fragrance. That’s herbs I’m smelling, right?”

“Exactly. A refined, wonderfully fragrant aroma. You can even use it to make sweets, but there’s hardly any of it in circulation.”

“Where do they make it? I’d like to pick some up if I ever pass through the area.”

“That’s the thing. Nobody has the slightest idea. One day it suddenly appears on the market, and the next it disappears without a trace. And what’s more, as if there’s some sort of agreement in place, the price never changes unless someone’s reselling it.”

“What a mysterious drink.”

Feeling a strange sense of kinship with it, Tōru smiled and took another drink of the liquor apparently called Bloody Aquavit.

Perhaps he, too, might suddenly disappear from this world and return to Earth in the very next instant. That possibility had crossed his mind countless times over the past nine years.

Yet even after his glass was empty, Tōru remained seated at the counter, exactly where he had been before.

The bartender refilled Tōru’s glass with Bloody Aquavit. Illuminated by the candlelight, the transparent red liquid resembled fresh blood.

“You know, the brothels here in Darandy have all sorts of entertainment. Interested? I could recommend a good place.”

“I’ll pass. I’ve never been particularly good at keeping those things casual.”

“Haha! Yeah, getting too attached to a working girl is never a good idea. Happens to young men all the time, but at least you know yourself.”

That’s not really what I meant, Tōru thought, silently disagreeing with the bartender.

In this other world, contraception was unreliable.

Even if the women working in such establishments understood the risks, Tōru had no idea when he might suddenly return to Earth, just as he had unexpectedly been transported here.

He simply didn’t want to do anything he couldn’t take responsibility for. It was little more than a self-preserving instinct.

But then another thought occurred to him.

Nine years had passed, and he had finally decided to abandon the hope of returning to Earth and resign himself to spending the rest of his life in this world. That was precisely why he had come to this bar.

Perhaps it was time to leave his old self behind.

“…Nah, still not happening.”

Tōru immediately dismissed the thought and stuffed a handful of nuts into his mouth.

The bartender rose from his seat, sliced some bread behind the counter, and brought it over with liver pâté.

“I don’t mind keeping you company until morning, you know?”

“Hey, bartender, how come this place isn’t more popular when you’re such a good guy?”

“Shut your mouth.”

They laughed and exchanged drinks with the easy familiarity of old friends, despite having only just met.

Realizing that it had been a long time since he had enjoyed an evening like this, Tōru felt genuinely grateful to the bartender.

By the time Tōru left the bar, the sky had already begun to brighten.

The streetlights powered by magic stones, a form of machinery known as magical machinery, had also gone dark.

Bakers were early risers even in this world, and the streets were filled with the appetizing aroma of freshly baked bread.

As Tōru walked along a narrow street lined with stone buildings, his thoroughly drunken steps occasionally carried him off balance, forcing him to steady himself against a wall.

“Heh. This is so pathetic it’s actually funny.”

Chuckling to himself, he turned down a side street that looked like a shortcut to his inn.

After taking a few steps, he felt something hard beneath his foot.

Tōru looked down and could hardly believe his eyes.

Lying in the back alley was a severed arm.

“Whoa! That’s one seriously gruesome thing to leave lying around! It’s not like you dropped a glove or something!”

Suddenly struck by an idea, Tōru picked up the arm.

He casually supported it with his left hand and shook its hand with his right.

“Come shake my hand in the back alley! Wait, who the hell are you!? Ahahaha, that’s hilarious!”

As Tōru, a thoroughly intoxicated man, doubled over laughing at his own spectacularly inappropriate joke, his eyes were nevertheless carefully examining the arm’s construction.

It was a metal prosthetic arm.

He had noticed while shaking its hand that the joints possessed a reasonable degree of freedom. However, its movements were stiff and jerky, as though something kept catching inside. The gears seemed poorly aligned.

It was a Magical Prosthetic Arm, a type of artificial limb powered by magical energy supplied by its wearer.

Yet something about it felt strange.

“—Hey, you there. Give that arm back.”

While Tōru tried to identify the source of his unease through the haze of his drunken thoughts, someone called out from deeper within the alley.

A short man stood there, wearing a robe with the hood pulled low to conceal his face.

“That arm’s mine. Give it back.”

“Oh, sorry. I was just shaking hands with it.”

“Sh-Shaking hands? Tch. You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

The short man scratched the back of his neck with his left hand, looking thoroughly annoyed. Judging by the way his right sleeve hung, he appeared to be missing his right arm.

“Hey, don’t look down on someone just because he’s drunk. I’ve still got enough common sense to pick up something somebody dropped, haven’t I? Here, you can have it back.”

Tōru held out the Magical Prosthetic Arm.

The man practically snatched it from him and began inspecting it, apparently checking whether Tōru had tampered with it.

Tōru shrugged.

“Just so we’re clear, that Magical Prosthetic Arm was shoddily made to begin with. Don’t go accusing me of breaking anything, all right?”

The prosthetic’s joints moved so poorly that it looked as though an amateur had manufactured its components. Nevertheless, the man attached it to his right shoulder as though returning it to its rightful place.

Tōru watched the man test its movements while stifling a yawn.

After apparently completing his inspection, the man pulled his right sleeve back down.

Figuring their business was finished, Tōru walked past him and headed toward his inn.

“See you around. Oh, and if you’re an adventurer, you should really use something better than that.”

It might have been none of his business, but Tōru offered the advice sincerely.

In addition to the Monsters familiar from fantasy stories, this world was home to another threat: Magical Mechanical Beasts, creatures whose bodies were partially mechanized. For adventurers who made their living exterminating such creatures, relying on a poorly made prosthetic arm would only shorten their lives.

“…I don’t need anything better.”

Tōru heard the man mutter those words.

Immediately afterward, he swiftly crouched.

A mass of metal swept through the space above his head. The object that cut through the air with a loud whoosh was the Magical Prosthetic Arm the man had just attached.

Apparently surprised that Tōru had avoided a sneak attack aimed at the back of his head from his blind spot, the man stared at him in astonishment.

Tōru used the momentum of straightening up to launch a backfist.

The man barely avoided the blow by throwing himself backward, almost falling over in the process.

“Damn it! You move pretty well for a drunk!”

“Shit, I think I’m gonna puke.”

The sudden movement had apparently upset his stomach. Tōru tilted his head back slightly, fighting down his nausea as he addressed the man.

“What, did I offend you by saying your Magical Prosthetic Arm was shoddily made? I mean, I know it was pretty insensitive, but when someone’s life is on the line, you’ve gotta say something, right? Isn’t that what kindness is all about?”

“That’s got nothing to do with it!”

“Then why the hell are you attacking me? What, is it something sentimental? A gift from your girlfriend? One of those romantic, heartwarming things where she says, ‘Now you can hold me in your arms again’? If that’s the case, then, uh, I’m seriously sorry.”

“Don’t go apologizing like you actually mean it!”

“Huh? Then what the hell do you want me to do?”

“Die.”

Tōru frowned at the blunt demand.

“Are you drunk too, by any chance?”

“Don’t lump me in with you.”

The man swiftly drew a dagger with his left hand and concealed its blade behind his right Magical Prosthetic Arm as he began slowly closing the distance.

The way he held his weapon to conceal its reach suggested considerable experience in fighting other people.

However, Tōru made no attempt to draw a weapon. Instead, he accurately gauged the man’s reach and retreated just enough to remain barely outside it.

The man’s expression gradually turned suspicious. Despite having concealed his blade, Tōru seemed to know its reach perfectly.

“Who the hell are you?”

Rather than answering, Tōru looked up at the sky, which had begun turning blue.

“Hmm. I was planning to take it easy today since it’s a special occasion, but now that I think about it, the date’s already changed. Maybe I should just capture you and hand you over to the guards or the guild.”

“—Hey! What are you doing over there!?”

While retreating to stay outside the man’s reach, Tōru had apparently emerged from the alley without realizing it.

He spotted two men wearing the uniforms of the town guards, who were responsible for maintaining public order, running toward them.

The man with the Magical Prosthetic Arm reacted immediately upon seeing them.

“Forget what happened today.”

Spitting out those words, he spun around and sprinted down the alley.

He moved remarkably quickly, perhaps because he was using Body-Enhancement Magic.

“Forget it? Today’s barely even started.”

Tōru considered pursuing him, but doing so would probably bring his nausea rushing back. He decided to leave the matter to the guards and stepped aside to let them pass.

“Thanks for working so hard this early in the morning.”

Hoping to make it clear that he was the victim, Tōru offered the guards a few words of appreciation as he watched them run past.