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Translator: TipToe
Translator (September 27, 2024 Version): Barnnn
A month had passed by since Tsutomu enlisted Garm as both his bodyguard and mentor. In that time, though often preoccupied with the bewildering fate that had swept him into this game-like world, Tsutomu dedicated himself to Garm’s teachings with a quiet resolve.
Under Garm’s steady guidance, he absorbed a wealth of knowledge: the layout of Dungeon City, the lines dividing its safe zones from its more perilous districts, and the locations of shops offering goods of the finest quality. Many of these places aligned with the game’s geography, though the real world — viewed now through his own eyes rather than over his character’s shoulder — offered its share of unexpected differences. There were shops here that had never existed in the game, for instance.
Beyond basic knowledge and equipment counsel, Tsutomu honed a variety of skills, carefully instructed by Garm. As the month drew to a close, the living costs and Garm’s fees had drained one of Tsutomu’s Large Magic Stones. Yet, he didn’t mind; the investment had been well worth it.
His prized Black Staff had been appraised by the sharp-eyed Aelurkin at a staggering value of no less than 20 top-quality Large Magic Stones. With an appraisal certificate in hand, the appraiser recommended that Tsutomu auction the staff at the Guild.
The auction’s final price soared beyond expectation, closing at 32 Large Magic Stones. After settling the Guild’s commission and paying for Garm’s protection and expenses for the month, Tsutomu found himself with 30 of the highest-quality Stones in hand. Such wealth — nearly equivalent to thirty million Gold — would be enough for him to live comfortably in this world for three decades.
But Tsutomu’s mind was far from such comforts. He hadn’t abandoned the idea of returning to the world he’d been torn from. While the thought of leaving behind his casual, unremarkable friendships didn’t trouble him, the pang of guilt for disappearing without a word to his caring parents lingered. There was hope, however — hope that kept him anchored.
His belief in that hope rested in conquering the Dungeon. He reasoned that if he could scale its depths and emerge victorious, he might uncover a way home. After all, it was the enigmatic item known as the ‘Invitation from God’ that had pulled him into this realm, and it was said that the Dungeon itself was overseen by this very same God.
Fueled by that glimmer of hope, Tsutomu began to deliberate on how best to utilize his newfound fortune to conquer the Dungeon.
When he first arrived, the farthest any Explorer had ventured was the fifty-ninth layer — a feat that had gone unbeaten for half a year. Garm had advised that the swiftest path to reaching the elusive hundredth layer would be to join a Clan that had already progressed the deepest.
But Tsutomu harbored a secret knowledge: the existence of the Secret Dungeon. If that hidden place was the key to returning to his world, he resolved it would be better to form his own Clan and pursue victory on his terms.
Forming a Clan required a million Gold — a sum Tsutomu could easily part with. Yet, it wasn’t so simple. He needed three members to establish his Clan, himself included. His first task was to recruit a Tank and an Attacker, the essential building blocks of any solid party.
However, recruitment presented a challenge far greater than he anticipated. Within the Guild, his reputation had already soured, and he bore an unfortunate moniker that made gathering allies a near impossibility.
“Hey, Lucky Boy! Out for another stroll with Garm today?”
“Nice gear, rich kid! Why don’t you toss some of that fortune our way?”
“Let’s form a party, Lucky Boy! We’ll split the rewards evenly, right? Ha! What a joke!”
The jeers echoed across the Guild’s dining hall, dripping with scorn. Walking beside Tsutomu, Garm’s sharp glare silenced the red-faced Explorers, their mocking voices fading into uneasy murmurs as they avoided his gaze.
As one of the Explorers had pointed out, Tsutomu’s appearance had transformed dramatically over the last month. His once unremarkable clothes were now replaced with a pristine white robe, its surface shimmering faintly as if imbued with light. Matching trousers glowed with the same soft radiance, and a custom-fitted belt around his waist held a slender case filled with vials of green healing Potions.
Slung across his back was a compact yet high-capacity Magic Bag, its anti-theft enchantments ensuring its contents were secure. Inside, it carried an array of carefully chosen items and equipment. All told, Tsutomu had spent twenty of his precious Large Magic Stones on this comprehensive upgrade.
The sneers and jibes of strangers rolled off him — he had long since learned to ignore them as he followed Garm in silence.
His notoriety had ignited when he ‘stumbled upon’ the rarest treasure chest on the very first layer of the Dungeon — a discovery that was thrust into the limelight by the Aelurkin appraiser, whose dramatic recounting of the find at auction spread like wildfire through the Guild. Before long, Tsutomu’s name was whispered across the city, his newfound fame — or infamy — stoked by two powerful forces: the Monitors, supposedly installed by the Dungeon’s overseeing God, and the ever-buzzing city newspapers.
The Monitors broadcasted live feeds of the Dungeon’s Explorers, not just within the Guild but to the sprawling plazas scattered across the city. In a world that felt plucked from the pages of medieval history, these magical broadcasts were the city’s primary source of entertainment.
Yet, the true spark that fueled the flames of his reputation came from Alma, a Black Mage from one of the city’s most famous Clans. Renowned not only for her exceptional abilities but also for her beauty, Alma had used the Black Staff — won at auction from Tsutomu — to vanquish the fearsome Fire Dragon on the sixtieth layer. In the throes of victory, she declared, her voice brimming with pride:
“We owe it all to Lucky Boy! We finally broke through the sixtieth-layer barrier thanks to him!”
A simple remark, yet it carried far-reaching consequences. With a powerful Clan member’s endorsement, sensationalized headlines in the local paper, and the envious murmurs of other Explorers, Tsutomu’s title of ‘Lucky Boy’ spread like wildfire.
[So this is what winning the lottery feels like…] Tsutomu mused to himself, now the target of envy and ridicule within the Guild.
The nickname clung to him even outside the Guild’s premises. While the city’s residents weren’t as openly hostile as the Explorers, Tsutomu found their constant whispers and stares exhausting all the same.
Not everything, however, was bad. The Guild, recognizing the unwanted attention the moniker had brought him, assigned two bodyguards to accompany Tsutomu until the storm passed. Alongside Garm was Amy, the Aelurkin woman whose overly enthusiastic advertisement at the auction had unintentionally fueled his rise to infamy. Both had been assigned as his protectors and temporary party members — at no cost to him.
“I apologize, Tsutomu,” Garm would mutter whenever the nickname ‘Lucky Boy’ floated through the air, his dog-like ears flattening in embarrassment.
Tsutomu, his white robe trailing lightly behind him, only waved it off.
“If I hadn’t been lucky enough to earn this name, I’d probably still be stuck with those first-layer stragglers fumbling around in dead-end parties. Honestly, I think I’m a real ‘Lucky Boy’ for having the chance to team up with you and Amy.”
“…I’m relieved you’re not letting this absurd nickname get to you,” Garm replied, his tone serious despite Tsutomu’s casual attitude as they both waited at the Guild reception. “…Speaking of which, where IS Amy? It’s been over ten minutes…”
Garm clicked his tongue impatiently, glancing up at the time flickering across a nearby Monitor. Tsutomu chuckled, scanning the hall.
“She’s been showing up late all week…”
“Do you realize, Tsutomu, how this entire mess traces back to her? You were favored by divine luck, yet here you stand, disgraced because of her antics. She should have lost her position as Guild staff, but thanks to your leniency, her punishment was softened. She can’t even handle that properly. Honestly, someone so irresponsible has no business working at the entrance to a Dungeon governed by God. It’s not too late, Tsutomu. You should really consider getting ri–”
“Here comes Amy, over the screens to youuuuuu!! …Just in time to shut down the pupper’s plan to fire me!” Amy’s voice rang out as she vaulted effortlessly over Garm’s shoulder, flipping midair and landing beside Tsutomu.
[Had it not been for those indigo pants, I’d have seen her underwear,] Tsutomu thought briefly, stifling a flicker of disappointment.
“How many times are you going to be late before you’re satisfied!?” Garm growled.
“Unlike you, gatekeeping pupper, I’ve got appraisal work to do! Busy, busy! Oh, Tsutomu, sorry for the wait!” She stuck out her tongue, playfully apologetic, though her face showed not an ounce of remorse.
Tsutomu, now somewhat impressed by her two-week streak of tardiness, gave his usual reply,
“Just try not to be late next time.”
“Got it! Oh, hey, that counter’s free! Let’s go, let’s go!”
Amy darted toward the unoccupied counter, where a balding, middle-aged man stood waiting, his presence largely avoided by the other Explorers. Garm followed, muttering under his breath, while Tsutomu trailed behind them both.
“Hey, old man! Hurry up with my Status Card!”
“Shut your mouth and spit on the paper already!”
“My apologies for the trouble.”
“Garm, my friend, stuck babysitting Amy again today, huh? And you too, Tsutomu.”
“Ahaha…”
The receptionist, his grin as sharp as any Dungeon monster’s teeth, handed each of them a small, white slip of paper. One by one, Tsutomu, Amy, and Garm spit onto their slips.
The man proceeded to collect the papers with a gruff nod, feeding them into a large, Magic Stone-powered contraption humming behind the counter. In mere moments, three Status Cards slid from towering stacks, their surfaces gleaming as they were laid out on the counter before them.
“Ugh, saliva? That’s so lame.”
“What’s wrong, Lucky Boy? Still scared of a little prick?”
The mocking voices came from the next line, a group of grizzled Explorers sneering as they puckered their lips in exaggerated imitation. Laughter followed, soft snickers rippling through the lines as others exchanged amused glances, Tsutomu once again the butt of the joke.
When registering for Dungeon entry, the Guild always demanded bodily fluids, just as they had when Explorers first received their Status Cards. This served two purposes: the first was practical — manually handling the sheer volume of Status Cards was an impossible task, so they relied on Magic Stone-powered machines to streamline the process. The second was to verify party formations, matching Cards with the bodily fluids of their owners.
Most Explorers chose either saliva or blood. But within the community, an unspoken code lingered — spitting was seen as the coward’s way, a mark of those too weak to endure the prick of a needle. Garm had warned Tsutomu of this stigma beforehand.
Yet Tsutomu found the idea of pricking his finger each time pointless, not to mention unpleasant. Why endure the pain when saliva served just as well? And he could never understand the Explorers who went as far as slicing their palms open in front of a receptionist, proudly offering up their blood as if it were some badge of honor.
These same people would then cause a scene, wasting Potions or a Healer’s time to fix their self-inflicted wounds. Tsutomu shook his head at the thought — he could never see himself healing a party like that. He was content enough with his luck, being able to team up with Garm and Amy, even if his current circumstances weren’t perfect.
As Amy bristled at the nearby jeers, ready to lash out, Tsutomu gave her a calming glance. His eyes dropped to his Status Card, now tinged with a pale green hue, a departure from the white it once had been. His level had risen to 9, though his status ratings remained largely unchanged. Still, seeing the increase was enough to make him quietly pump his fist in triumph.
Garm and Amy’s Status Cards, by contrast, glowed blue. The colors told a silent story — green, like Tsutomu’s, denoted those who had ventured through the Grasslands, the earliest set of layers of the Dungeon. Blue, on the other hand, marked deeper experience; Garm and Amy had both cleared the fortieth layer, emerging into the Beach biome.
“Those good-for-nothings really get under my skin…” Amy fumed, her pink lips forming a pout while her white-furred tail snapped with irritation.
“As I’ve said before,” Tsutomu muttered, “you don’t need to hold back for my sake.”
“If I didn’t, it’d look like I was agreeing with them! No way am I doing that!”
Garm, his eyes half-lidded in weariness, leveled a sharp glare her way as he placed his Status Card on the counter.
“Then stop complaining and keep quiet.”
“Yeah, yeah, always the obedient dog, aren’t you? Following orders without so much as a peep. It’s nauseating!”
“…Seems you won’t learn your place until I make sure of it.”
“You two never change, do you?” The receptionist’s voice broke in, thick with exasperation. “I’m always half-expecting one of you to break the Divine Law one of these days…”
With a heavy sigh, he discarded the slips of paper into the flickering red lantern resting on the counter.
“There, you’re registered. Splitting the rewards evenly, right?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” Tsutomu confirmed.
“Good. Now that your Status Cards are updated, get going. And Amy…” he shot her a baleful look, “…you’re in the way.”
“Meh, there’s never anyone around this desk anyway! Nyah, baldy!” Amy taunted, blowing a raspberry before darting toward the Dungeon entrance.
Tsutomu and Garm, with a shared look of apology to the visibly annoyed receptionist, hurried after her.
At the Dungeon’s entrance, five massive Magic Circles hummed in a row, each large enough to accommodate a full party of five.
One by one, Explorers vanished in flashes of radiant light, their bodies dissolving into sparkling traces as the Circles whisked them away. Tsutomu had grown used to this sight, but he still remembered how, in his first few days, the thought of stepping into one had filled him with dread. Amy had, of course, taken great delight in teasing him about it.
Their turn came. As they stepped into the Circle, Amy tried to grab Tsutomu’s hand, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips.
“Huh? No hand-holding today?” she teased.
“Not today,” Tsutomu replied, smirking. “I think I’ll stick with Garm. Even if we get split up, as long as I’m with him, we’ll manage. See you around, Amy.”
He took Garm’s hand, causing Amy’s ears to twitch in annoyance.
“Hmph! I don’t care about you anymore, Tsutomu!”
“Oh? Then why are you still clinging to my hand, Amy?”
“Well then!” she huffed, dodging the question entirely. “Another fun day in the Grasslands! Can’t wait!”
Tsutomu stifled a chuckle as Amy clamped her claws playfully into his palm. Wincing, but smiling, he spoke the words,
“Teleport to the first layer!”
In a flash of light, the three vanished from the Guild, their bodies dissolving as the Magic Circle carried them away.
Silavin: The next chapters are quite short. Hmm… It’s around 2k words.
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The abbreviation to G is amusing knowing that Japanese people refer to cockroaches that way. Millions of cockroaches!
Thanks for the chapter!
Looks like MC is getting the hang of things. Seems like Amy and Garn have some baggage considering they both seem skilled adventurers but are working for the guild rather than in a party.
Got a typo in this paragraph – The black staff that Tsutomu had appraised was recognized as being worth at least 20 large gemstones of the highest quality by the cat people, and after being given the appraisal form, it was proposed by the cat people to have it transported for auction at the guild.
Should be cat person, not cat people as only one cat person (Amy) examined the staff for the guild, not a majority or the entire cat people race.