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Translator: TipToe
Translator (October 9, 2024 Version): Barnnn
The following morning, Tsutomu stirred awake, suppressing a deep yawn. His eyelids, heavy with lingering sleep, barely lifted no matter how alert he tried to be. For a fleeting moment, he contemplated surrendering to the softness of his bed again.
Still in a haze, he drifted over to the washbasin. The faucet, adorned with a transparent container that housed a Water Magic Stone, stood waiting. He reached for a handful of Colorless Magic Stone Scraps and fed them into the container. At once, the stone’s soft blue glow flickered to life. With a twist of the tap, cool water spilled into his hands. He splashed it over his face, then reached for his custom-made wooden toothbrush. After thoroughly cleaning his mouth, he glanced into the clouded mirror, inspecting his reflection for any signs of bedhead.
“Guess it’s about time for a barber visit…” he muttered, tugging at the tips of his hair, now brushing just past his ears in unruly black strands.
His gaze then wandered to the clutter on his desk, where papers lay in a chaotic sprawl. With a hurried sweep of his hands, he gathered the notes detailing the Valley biome’s terrain and monsters — painstakingly compiled from the late-night broadcasts — and stuffed them into his Magic Bag. His preparations from the night before had cost him sleep, leaving a familiar drowsiness to weigh on him as he changed from his loungewear into his everyday attire, a muted yellow casual outfit that blended effortlessly into this world’s population.
Once dressed, he slung the Magic Bag over his shoulder, locked his door, and stepped into the inn’s hallway, greeted by the hum of morning life. Faint footsteps echoed from nearby rooms, and the rhythmic creak of a well being drawn from outside reached his ears.
Tsutomu entered the inn’s dining hall and took his usual seat, letting his eyes wander over the room’s occupants. Elves and Beastkin made up the majority, with only a scattering of humans among them. His attention soon fell on the young waitress, darting from table to table with the efficiency of someone long accustomed to the morning rush. When she paused after serving another group, Tsutomu raised a hand to catch her attention.
“Excuse me, could I get some breakfast too?”
“Of course! Any special requests?”
“No, whatever’s on the menu is fine.”
As a guest, breakfast was included as long as he didn’t fuss over the details, and Tsutomu wasn’t the sort to make demands. He leaned on his elbow, idly observing the room as he waited.
The inn’s clientele was a balanced mix of Explorers and regular workers, each group making up about half of the crowd. With a nightly rate of 10,000 Gold, it wasn’t the cheapest lodging, drawing in those who could afford its comforts — mid-tier Explorers or skilled professionals from various walks of life.
The Explorers, mostly humanoid — Elves, Dwarves, Beastkin, and a few Dragonewts — gathered in small clusters. Most talked over their breakfast about strategies for their next Dungeon delve. The Beastkin, in contrast, attacked their meals with a voracious energy.
Meanwhile, the workers exuded a more leisurely air, sipping tea or perusing newspapers. Even their reading material seemed to reflect the pulse of the city — while some newspapers carried only general topics, the majority had Dungeon news dominating the pages, chronicling the latest feats of Explorers.
Explorers — those who ventured into the depths of Dungeons — had their exploits broadcast for all to witness, their triumphs and failures displayed on public Monitors. In Tsutomu’s world, it was not unlike watching famous athletes or celebrities on television. And like those stars, the Explorers who graced the Monitors could not escape the spotlight, whether they craved it or not.
The most widely circulated newspaper for Dungeon-related news came from the Solit Company. As the first to capitalize on publishing such content, it had secured an enormous readership and wielded significant influence. Its reach was so vast, in fact, that it had also played a pivotal role in the “Lucky Boy” fiasco that had ensnared Tsutomu. Solit Company’s journalists had shamelessly sensationalized his story for entertainment, turning him into a public joke. Though it had one unintended benefit — driving up the auction price of his Black Staff — the unwelcome attention, especially the unauthorized photos of his face splashed across its pages, left him frustrated. He found himself longing for Earth’s first-world countries’ privacy laws, a luxury sorely lacking in this world.
His breakfast arrived, breaking his thoughts. A generous spread lay before him: crispy bacon, eggs fried to perfection, a fresh salad, and four slices of toast with a crisscross pattern seared into the surface, each slice topped with butter and jam. A bowl of warm corn soup and a glass of iced barley tea completed the meal. Tsutomu sliced into the eggs, his gaze drifting to a newspaper article featuring a prominent Clan. A large group photo dominated the page.
[Looks like they’re still inactive…]
The record-shattering Clan, the Scarlet Devil Squad, was the first to slay the Fire Dragon after six grueling months of failures by every other group. Two weeks had passed since their victory, but they had yet to return to the Dungeon, too busy with repairing their battle-worn gear and interviews from various news outlets. The public’s fascination had far from dimmed — everywhere Tsutomu went, he heard Alma’s name on people’s lips, their admiration for her unshakable. The praise for the Clan’s enigmatic leader, the Crimson Spellblader, seemed endless as well.
[Enjoy the fame while it lasts,] Tsutomu thought, biting into a piece of butter-soaked toast. [We’ll be overtaking you guys soon enough.]
With that quiet vow, he sipped his corn soup, turning his focus away from the article and its lingering spotlight on the Scarlet Devil Squad.
Once his meal was done, he cleared his dishes, returning them to the counter before handing over his room key at the inn’s reception and stepping outside.
His first stop of the morning was the cleaners, a place that specialized in restoring the sullied equipment of Explorers. Whenever his white robe and pants accumulated the inevitable grime of the Dungeon, Tsutomu ensured they were left here for proper care.
In the Dungeon, dirt was inescapable. While monster blood dissolved into light when the creatures perished, other substances — like the corrosive fluids spat by certain beasts — tended to cling persistently. The filth of mud, dirt, and various odors from the Dungeon’s ever-changing environments didn’t vanish like the monsters did. Though most Explorers hardly bothered with spotless gear, Tsutomu, while not obsessive, found it hard to overlook.
The cleaners, open early as always, were distinguished by their two large white-stone buildings. The one on the right housed the washers and dryers, as indicated by the plumes of steam pouring from its vents. On the left was the reception area, where customers dropped off and retrieved their gear.
Tsutomu pushed open the left door and entered the quiet reception area. A bald man behind the counter greeted him with a welcoming smile.
“Morning! I’m here to pick up my equipment.”
“Ah, Mister Tsutomu! Right this way,” the man replied warmly.
Handing over his stone verification token, Tsutomu watched as the man disappeared into the back. Moments later, he returned with Tsutomu’s neatly folded set of gear, each piece wrapped in a transparent membrane to guard against dust.
This delicate membrane, made from the remains of transparent Slimes found near the Forest layers’ lakes, was stretched thin for wrapping objects or preserving food. It was a curious material, given that most monsters, upon death, dissolved into particles of light, leaving behind only Magic Stones. How, then, were slime remains harvested?
There were two methods: the first involved treasure chests, which appeared randomly in the Dungeon. These chests, manifesting either alongside a defeated monster or scattered in secret locations, contained a variety of items — monster materials, equipment, or unique treasures exclusive to the Dungeon. Encountering one was a stroke of fortune; even the lowest-grade wooden chests were considered lucky finds, especially in the deeper layers. And yet, the sheer scarcity of treasure chests made every discovery an event, sometimes yielding loot valuable enough to cover an Explorer’s expenses for months.
Tsutomu himself had once claimed to have found a gold chest — a tale he used to explain the acquisition of his Black Staff. That claim had sparked a frenzy, with hordes of would-be Explorers rushing to register, hoping to find similar riches. This influx, however, had resulted in many being exploited by more experienced Explorers, a reality Garm often lamented.
The second method of acquiring materials involved Dungeons outside the city — places where, unlike within Dungeon City, monsters didn’t dissolve into particles. Here, their remains could be harvested directly, but this required learning disassembly techniques and facing dangers not present in God’s Dungeon. Without the protection of Divine Insurance or the oversight of Divine Law, death in these Dungeons was final, and resurrection impossible. White Mages and potions became invaluable, and every venture demanded a careful, calculated strategy. For most Explorers nowadays, the thought of such risk seemed foolhardy — God’s Dungeon ensured their safety, and the goodwill garnered from successful forays within the city increased their reputation, drawing the attention of the nobility and opening doors to more prestigious opportunities as private guards.
Still, despite the risks, the lure of powerful monsters’ materials was hard to ignore — after all, the rewards, if successful, were simply staggering. Only a few dared to brave such peril — most either aimed for weaker monsters or took on the Guild’s high-paying expedition missions, issued when Dungeons near villages were left untended for too long and threatened to overflow. These requests often came with dire warnings, for if left unchecked, the roaming monsters could reach Dungeon City itself.
Monster attacks, while infrequent, usually occurred once every six months, with only minor monsters managing to come near the city’s defenses. Yet the surrounding villages were not so fortunate, often facing catastrophic losses. It was the village folk who bore the brunt of the danger, and they harbored a growing resentment toward the more comfortable city-bound Explorers. Among the towns, the Clan known as the Labyrinth Conquerors was notorious — famed for its high mortality rate. New recruits had a mere fifty percent chance of survival, and those who joined often did so out of sheer recklessness or a deep sense of duty to protect their homes.
Given all that, the transparent membrane that now wrapped around Tsutomu’s equipment was not a commodity easily acquired. After settling the payment, Tsutomu bowed his head in gratitude and stepped out into the street, his thoughts already turning to his next destination: the Guild.
Upon stepping into the Guild, Tsutomu was immediately accosted by a group of loud, idle Explorers, their boisterous chatter buzzing like flies around him. He paid them no mind, walking past as if they were little more than background noise. His indifference earned a few disgruntled clicks of the tongue, but none dared push further — Garm’s reputation among the Explorers ensured that. They knew better than to stir trouble where he was concerned.
With a cold, dismissive glance at the rowdy bunch, Tsutomu made his way toward the usual meeting spot. There, Garm was adjusting his gear, as he always did before exploration. To Tsutomu’s mild surprise, Amy was present as well — not running late for once — lazily twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers.
“Well, well, who do we have here?” Tsutomu remarked with a smirk. “I don’t believe we’ve met before — could you be Amy’s twin sister?”
Amy snapped upright from her seat. “Wow, rude!”
“Heh, just pulling your leg,” he said with an easy smile.
Garm let out a soft chuckle, trying to hide his amusement behind his hand.
“All jokes aside, good morning,” Tsutomu continued, “I’m planning to grind some levels at the Beach today, and then practice using <<Fly>> for the Valley run. Does that sound good?”
Garm nodded. “Works for me.”
“Yeah, sounds great!” Amy added, flashing a thumbs-up in Garm’s direction.
With their plans in place, the three of them joined the line at the reception desk. The familiar figure of the balding receptionist — as unpopular as ever — raised a hand in greeting as they approached.
“Hey there! Looks like you guys got an interview request waiting,” he called out.
“An interview?” Tsutomu echoed, clearly taken by surprise.
“Yep,” the man confirmed with a slight nod. “From Solit Company. They’re already here — c’mon, follow me.”
He stepped around the wooden counter, beckoning them with a wave to follow him into the back.
Tsutomu shot a brief glance toward Garm, whose demeanor had shifted to one of quiet seriousness before falling into step behind the receptionist.
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A lot of world building in this one. Thanks for the chapter!