Bonus Short Stories

The State of Affairs in the Republic of Woori

Protruding from the Eurasian continent and located west of the Japanese islands was the Korian Peninsula, a piece of land split along the 38^th parallel north. North of this line was the Kingdom of Ko (called ‘Koria’ for short), and to the south was the Republic of Woori (called ‘Woori’ for short). The Kingdom of Ko was an absolute monarchy under the rule of the third-generation King Kim and had no dealings whatsoever with Japan. The Republic of Woori was a democratic republic, and the head of state was President Park Jae-An, a civic activist.

August of 2019, the Republic of Woori was greatly confounded by a certain problem. Due to their latest revision of their Catch-All Controls, Japan had removed Woori as a whitelisted country. The Park administration refuted the revision with vehemence, calling it a violation of the Japan-Woori General Security of Military Information Agreement (GSOMIA). But then several days later, all the countries of the world found their national security under threat. The Dungeon Outbreak Phenomenon had begun.

◇ ◇ ◇

In October of 2019, President Park presided over a security council meeting held at the Woorian head of state’s executive office and official residence, the Blue House. There were a great number of opinions raised regarding what should be done about the dungeon that had emerged within Seoul. It was located in a plot of land where the country’s largest car manufacturer, Milae Motor Company, had planned on building their new headquarters. The army quickly sealed the place, completely barring entry. Due to this, Woori had almost no information regarding the dungeons whatsoever.

In contrast, their neighbor, Japan, had reacted with astonishing swiftness. Possibly due to their familiarity with “dungeons” through their fantasy works in media such as light novels and anime, the large majority of the population were more curious than scared of the phenomenon. Then the 2019 G7 Nagoya summit between the world’s most forefront industrialized countries took place, where Japan displayed global leadership in their call for an international cooperative response against the dungeons. One way or another, Woori and Japan did tend to be compared to each other, and this made the Woorian citizens denounce what they saw as an extremely sluggish response on the part of the Park administration.

“So, what was Japan’s response to our request for bilateral information sharing?”

“Mr. President, the Japanese government has unfortunately said ‘no.’ I quote, ‘We have classified all information about the dungeons and therefore do not plan on publicizing anything regarding any of our policies going forward.’”

President Park sighed heavily in response. The economy wasn’t doing well and his ratings were already dropping. At this rate, the backlash from citizens could possibly get out of hand.

“What should we do with GSOMIA? The original idea was to prolong it in order to glean information about the dungeons from Japan, but if we keep it any longer, the people...”

“I don’t see any other choice but to break it. If Japan has no intention of changing their stance, it would make us look weak to cling to it. We can’t have a repeat of the Candlelight Demonstrations on our hands.”

“However, Mr. President, the dungeon phenomenon is apparently still happening, and chances are high that more of them will be emerging within our country. The importance of Woori-Japan relations seems to be growing with each Wave.”

Several members of the State Council were of the opinion that their relations with Japan ought to be improved, even if it required certain compromises on the Woorian side. However, President Park had already made up his mind. It had been more than seventy years since the Korian people were split between the North and the South; the Japanese had always been the assailants, and the Korians had always been the victims. Any compromise made here would mean losing the ethical upper ground and the undermining of the issue of reparations. Compromising with the Japanese did not just look weak; it was an outright betrayal to their entire ethnicity.

“We’ll break off GSOMIA. In fact, this could be the perfect opportunity to proceed with appeasement policies towards the North. Once North and South join hands, these nonsensical things called dungeons can be dealt away with in no time at all.”

In this way, the military agreement between Japan and Woori was broken off, and the relations between the two countries reached a record low since the end of WWII more than seventy years ago.

◇ ◇ ◇

Near the end of December 2019, the Embassy of the Republic of Woori located in Yotsuya, Tokyo sent a request to the Japanese government. Within two months after the breaking off of GSOMIA, Japan’s policy on civilian adventurers had begun taking off, and the country was seeing the beginnings of a steady supply of magic stones. While the Western countries were still busy working things out, Japan had already run full steam ahead with its counter-dungeon measures. The eyes of the world were on Japan, and the Park administration of Woori did not like that.

“For the sake of the friendship between our two countries, we wish to build a united front against the dungeons. As we’ve said before, the dungeons are a threat to the entire world, and it is no time to be fixated on the past.”

The Minister for Foreign Affairs almost doubted his ears and gave the ambassador a noncommittal nod. Between the two of us, which country is it that’s fixated on the past? “Friendship between our two countries?” There’s still that bronze statue in front of our embassy in Seoul and the weekly demonstrations held there, which no one’s bothered putting a stop to. Apparently, this is what the saying “hold out the right hand to ask for something while punching with the left hand” means.

“The civilian adventurer initiative that we have adopted is still in the trial phase and, depending on the results we gather, is subject to further adjustment and development. It is not only your country’s request for cooperation that we are rejecting; Gamerica and the EU have gotten the same answer from us. I’m sorry, but we cannot give you what you are asking for.”

“President Park is offering to re-establish GSOMIA if you cooperate with us. You do understand what a great opportunity this is for the improvement of the relations between our two countries, yes?”

“What makes you think that a bilateral agreement that’s been terminated once can be re-established so easily? Not to mention, I don’t think there’s much that we would have to gain from your side in terms of information on the dungeons.”

The arguments of both sides seemed to be proceeding on parallel lines. The Urabe administration had already half given up hope in regards to Japan-Woori relations. After all, the ‘ethical upper ground’ that Woori placed so much stress on was with the Japanese side. The Woorian ambassador gradually got increasingly emotional.

“The Dungeon Outbreak Phenomenon is a worldwide threat, before which all countries need to put aside their self-interest! One more time, we request that Japan publicize all information regarding the dungeons and cooperate with us on the development of a civilian adventurer initiative. We are offering you this opportunity to improve the relations between our two countries. How can you refuse it?!”

“How is this an ‘opportunity’ for us? You call it a ‘cooperation,’ but you’re simply making one-sided demands of us. What’s Japan to get out of this? Will you make concessessions for us in our territorial disputes? Will you do away with the bronze statue in front of our embassy? What is it exactly that your country will be doing for ours in exchange?”

The reason why the two men seemed to be on different pages was because of the meaning of the word “cooperation.” In Japanese, this word meant “supporting each other while working towards the same goal.” In Hangul, the language used by Woori, this word had two meanings.

The first was the same as in Japanese, but the other meant “doing something together while forgoing one’s self-interests out of consideration for the other party.” In most cases where Woori asked Japan for “cooperation,” the word was used with the second meaning in mind.

“Where is Japan’s consideration for all the atrocities visited upon us in the past?! Do you not care what happens to Woori-Japan relations?! Where is your love for our country?!”

The Japanese foreign minister sighed softly. Further conversation was clearly not going to be conducive. He adopted a firm but courteous tone.

“Prime Minister Urabe and I love only Japan and Japanese citizens. We do not have even a drop of love for your country. I believe we’re done here. Kindly take your leave.”

As a result of this breakdown, Japan-Woori relations worsened even further. Then again, the breakdown seemed only logical, as the relations were already the worst they’d ever been. The only thing that changed after this was that the Republic of Woori was left with no choice but to adopt a stance of passive neglect towards the dungeons, consequently losing much of its speaking power on the world stage in regard to the issue.

The Melancholy of Kinouchi Mari

After spending most of my summer holiday working part-time for Dungeon Busters, I returned to school in September for the second term. Many of my classmates at Tokyo Metropolitan Matsue High School also lived in Edogawa City, some of whom I had known since all the way back in middle school. I hadn’t hung out with anyone during the summer, so it felt like a reunion after a long separation.

“Uh...Mari?”

“Good morning!”

A classmate that I was on good terms with called out to me. She seemed surprised somehow.

“Did something happen, Mari? You seem to have gotten brighter... No, you’re, like, shining or something.”

“What? Really?”

Maybe I really did get brighter. Thanks to Kazu-san, my family no longer had to worry about our finances. Fighting inside the dungeon still scared me a bit, but Grandma had completely recovered, and Mom’s face had lightened up. I was quite happy overall.

“Mari, you really should try being an idol. How about applying at a talent agency?”

“Nahh, pass. I don’t like being stared at by people.”

My new semester started with this lighthearted conversation. Who would have thought? Due to my expression supposedly having gotten brighter, I apparently had entered my popular phase.

◇ ◇ ◇

“Kinouchi-san, would you like to try going out with me?”

Within the first week after being back, I received a letter in my shoe locker. It was from Sawaki Seishi-kun and said that he would be waiting for me after school on the rooftop of the second school building. Sawaki-kun, who was in Year 1 Group A, was quite popular with the girls in our grade. I had already been almost entirely sure that it was going to be a love confession as I climbed the stairs to the roof.

“Sorry, I’m not interested in going out with anyone right now.”

What was it? Was it the way he said it? Why is it that I can’t help but think him childish? “Try going out?” What is that; a trial period? Is that how lightly this person thinks of a relationship with someone of the opposite sex?

Seeing how flustered Sawaki-kun became, I deduced that he hadn’t expected to be rejected.

“Wait, what? You have someone else that you like, then? Or are you already going out with someone?”

Was he not listening to what I said? My mom had also been confessed to during her high school days, gotten pregnant, married, and was then abandoned. The face of the man that I hated the most in the world came to mind and my head rapidly cooled down.

“I’m not going out with anyone and I have no intention of going out with anyone. Sorry.”

Sawaki-kun stared after me with a dumbfounded face as I left the rooftop behind. Within days, word spread that I had rejected him. He had probably told the story to his friends himself. I thought it an extremely irresponsible thing to do.

◇ ◇ ◇

“Mari, is it true that you rejected Sawaki-kun’s confession?”

“Mhm, I did.”

“Whaaat? Why? It’s such a waste! He’s so cool and all. You know how popular he is, don’t you?”

“Is he cool, though? I don’t feel like I can actually trust him...”

“C’mon, we’re high school students. Going out casually is, like, our privilege.”

“What is your type, then, Mari?”

“Rather than ‘type’...”

I was visiting a café together with my friends after school, and we ended up chatting up quite a storm. While enjoying my slice of Mont Blanc, I gave it some thought. The image of my dad lazing around irresponsibly and the sight of Kazu-san’s back as he fought against monsters came to mind.

“The kind of people that I hate are irresponsible people. And rather than a ‘type,’ when I see someone working single-mindedly towards something, I end up wanting to support them.”

Wait, have I developed a distrust of men? That’s...not good, right?

◇ ◇ ◇

“Kinouchi-san, could you go out with me?”

Not long afterwards, I ended up receiving a confession from Okada-senpai, captain of the soccer club and the most popular guy in our school. Isn’t he going out with the manager of his club, though? The one in the same grade as him?

“Okada-senpai, aren’t you already going out with Suzuki-san?”

Okada-senpai averted his face uncomfortably. “Uh, we broke up. Turns out, we’ll be going to different universities. And since we’re both quitting the soccer club, we thought it a good place to end things. That’s when I heard the recent rumors about you. When I caught sight of you, I immediately fell in love.”

“What...did you just...”

I could hardly believe my ears. You’ll be graduating in half a year. Wouldn’t that make for a “good place to end things” too? You could still keep on going out despite attending different universities. So it was a relationship so casual that you would break it off merely because of something of that level?

“I’m sorry, but I have absolutely no interest in you. Thank you, but no thank you.”

I whirled around and left the scene, irritation bubbling inside of me. Are all guys like this? It’s not like I expect a marriage proposal right off the bat, but if they really want to go out, shouldn’t they at least be more serious about it?

◇ ◇ ◇

When I shared with Mom about how I’d received so many confessions recently and had turned them all down, a complicated look came over her face.

“Mari, how about going a bit easier on the guys? Guys your age are all obsessed with girls. They want to know you more. They want to hold your hand. These thoughts are normal. Hating them for it might be going a bit too far...”

“I know that, but, how do I say it... They all seem so frivolous. I can imagine them easily cheating on me and easily abandoning me. I couldn’t feel any scrap of responsibility or resolve from any of them.”

Mom put a hand to her cheek and sighed. Oh right, Mom is still quite popular. She gets approached by quite a few middle-aged guys at her part-time job, doesn’t she?

“Is it because your dad was the way he was...? Or is it because you’re being influenced by Kazuhiko-san...? Mari, you’re still sixteen. Guys your age wouldn’t be able to reciprocate such seriousness.”

Mom’s nonchalant-sounding words caused me to suddenly flare up. Does she not remember what she went through precisely because she had failed to understand the importance of that seriousness?!

“It was all because of that good-for-nothing that you suffered so much! I never want to become like you. I don’t want to have anything to do with all the pieces of trash that would only seek a woman for her body and then cheat on her like it’s nothing!”

“Mari, you... I’m sorry. Mom is sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it like that. All I wanted was for you to understand that not all guys are like that.”

“Whatever! I’m not talking to you ever again!”

The irritation inside my chest drove me to coop myself up in my room. The next day, I was still too angry to speak to her. Even though I actually want to say sorry...

◇ ◇ ◇

“I see. You’ve seen Shiori-san struggling, and you yourself have also had a hard time. It’s only natural that you’ve developed a distrust in men.”

When I came to Kazu-san’s place on the weekend with a sullen look on my face, he sat me down and asked me what was wrong. So I told him that I was fighting with Mom. After listening to my account, he smiled wryly and nodded several times.

“See, thing is, guys are all lechers at heart. This is especially true for high school boys. Their heads are pretty much completely filled with thoughts about girls.”

“Where you like that, too, Kazu-san?”

“Of course. Even now, I think back with nostalgia to that time when my friends and I tried accessing an adult video channel on the hotel TV during a school trip. We also sneaked dirty magazines to school and passed them around. Nowadays, there’s the internet and everyone has smartphones, making it so much easier to find that sort of stuff. It’s a good age; it’s convenient, but those were some good times back then, too.”

In my mind, Kazu-san was the very role model of adult men. He was always calm and collected, and he had the confidence to admit his own faults and tell stories of his own failures. As it turned out, apparently even he had been obsessed with girls during his high school days. I couldn’t really imagine it.

“Why not give it a try at least? You can hold hands, watch a movie, and have a date at Resortland in Maihama. Only thing is, just make sure to not get into an illicit sexual relationship.”

“But, what if the guy, um, asks for it?”

“Then you can slap him silly. Oh, but be careful when you do, all right? If you do it with your full strength, you might accidentally just snap his neck, hahaha!”

Maihama Resortland? I’ve only been there that one time when I was small. But I guess he may have a point. Maybe I should try to have at least one relationship while in high school. I still don’t want anyone frivolous, but if it’s a proper guy, then I suppose I could go on one date and give him a chance.

But before that, I should apologize to Mom when I get back tonight.

Close Friends and Their Respective New Challenges

I am Ezoe Kazuhiko, forty-one years old as of 2020. The following story is from when I first went independent. It isn’t really related to the main story in any way, so feel free to read it as an aside.

◇ ◇ ◇

During 2009, the year when the Democratic Party defeated the conservative ruling coalition in the polls, I bought myself a single house in Shishibone, Edogawa City. I was quite excited about finally reaching the part of my life where I could take things a bit slower and kick back a bit. After graduating from university, I had worked seven years in the sales department of a company that offered team building and training services. Despite having managed to climb all the way up to manager of the Nagoya branch at the time, the exploitative and musclebrained culture at the company still didn’t sit well with me, and so I turned in my resignation. My annual income had been nearing ten million yen, but I had already been considering going independent for quite a while, as I disliked having other people decide my goals for me. So I spent two years studying and finally acquired the licenses for Small and Medium Enterprise Management Consultant and Labor and Social Security Consultant. Then I shored up my resolve to go independent.

“Wow, how long has it been? I left when I graduated high school, so...twelve years, huh.”

At the time, I had moved to Kanazawa because of my father’s job transfer. After graduating high school, I then finished a degree at a university also in Kanazawa. My parents stayed behind to live there, but then got into a car accident and died. Having been left all alone — I had no siblings — I decided to return to where I’d grown up: Edogawa.

“To a new life!”

With slices of corned beef topped with salted green onions as a side, I toasted myself with a glass of Scotch whisky. The bare necessities were all here, be it furniture or electrical appliances. If anything else came to mind later on, I could just buy it then. In the second floor study was a work desk, my laptop, a laser printer, shelves for documents, and a whiteboard. After finishing up a light dinner, I showered and changed into casual indoor wear.

“First is sales. I have to find companies to contract with and find out just how much I can get done within five working days. I’ll be pushing the application of differentiation strategy and added value to increase operating unit cost.”

I wrote out my management policy onto the whiteboard. Going independent would be meaningless if I didn’t live a more fulfilling life than before. I had no intention of working from morning to night, day in and day out. Eventually, I wanted to settle into a 4-day work week with an annual income of around ¥6 million. I had taken out loans during my days as a salaryman, which I hoped to settle within the next ten years.

Just as I had finished gathering my thoughts, I got a phone call. It turned out to be Iwamoto, my childhood friend and president of a pachinko chain.

“Kazu-chan, congratulations on going independent.”

“Thanks, Iwa-chan. I’ve finally escaped from having to work under someone else! Though, I’ll have to find my own clients going forward.”

“That’s great timing. Would you come take a look at my company’s labor and social security systems? We’ve just cancelled our contract with our previous consultant.”

“That is great timing. I’d love to, but why the sudden cancellation?”

“I was thinking about the future of the pachinko business and thought that we should probably consider diversifying our portfolio. But when I asked our previous consultant to come up with a few suggestions, he just said ‘that’s not within my duties.’ I mean, he was right, but after having been with us for all these years, I’d hoped that he would at least give me something.”

“It’s true that this is no longer the age when labor and social security consultants can stick to only managing work regulations and calculating salaries. All right. Give me a week. I’ll come make my greetings and bring a proposal at the same time.”

“Thanks!”

I got off the phone and picked up my glass. Iwamoto had inherited his company, and the consultant that he was talking about had been with the company ever since his father’s time. Nowadays, consulting for labor and social security was a perfect competition market. Perhaps it had gotten a bit too harsh for the older ones unable to change with the times. Without competing and differentiating to become the ‘chosen one,’ it would be hard to stay afloat in this industry. This was equally applicable to salarymen as to sole proprietors, though.

◇ ◇ ◇

“As I’m sure many of you already know, the pachinko business has been steadily shrinking as of the past few years. It’s a declining industry. There’s no telling how many will still be open ten years from now. The only way to escape this trend is to diversify your portfolio, and the sooner the better.”

I was currently giving a presentation before President Iwamoto and all the executives and branch heads in his company. The theme was “How to survive for the next 10 years.”

“The Democratic Party is currently pushing their Visit Japan Strategy and trying to attract more foreign tourists. At the current rate, however, this is going to be a flop. The reason is because their macroeconomic policy is ‘appreciation of the yen.’ From the perspective of foreigners, the current price of commodities in Japan is far too high. To put this into perspective, a single five hundred milliliter bottle of Colah is almost two US dollars. However, this party is very likely going to be voted back out three years from now. In light of the return of the ruling coalition at that time, I believe that the best industry to strike into would be the hotel industry, with a special focus on catering to tourists coming from Sina and Woori.”

“Hold on a moment. You just said that the attempt to attract foreign tourists is going to be a flop. Aren’t you contradicting yourself?”

“It would fail under the Democratic Party, but the general direction is correct. Our country’s tourism strategy is markedly behind that of our neighbors. It only makes sense to work on it. Due to the booming economy of the Oriental Republic of Sina, a large market of inbound travelers is growing year-after-year. In light of this, I believe that now is the perfect time to make a foray into the business. Additionally, the conversion from pachinko parlor to hotel is relatively easy. Please take a look at the next page.”

Many pachinko parlors were located near train stations and could easily be refurbished into hotels. Most staff hired for a pachinko store would already have been put through customer service training. Though there were indeed differences between the two industries, this would be much less painful than converting to, say, smartphone app development.

“I’m quite sure that in a few years, we will see a large influx of foreign tourists. Consequently, I am proposing a shift to the hotel business now so that your company would be fully ready by that time.”

◇ ◇ ◇

After the presentation, Iwamoto celebrated my going independent with me at Hotei, a teppanyaki place in Moto-Yawata. Supposedly, his company would be internally discussing my proposal. According to him, however, his main goal for today was to make the others realize the necessity for change. And in this, he was more than pleased with how today had turned out.

“We’ll be having workshops to think about striking out into a new industry. Many of our executives are from my old man’s era, so they’ve been getting a bit complacent. They’ve developed an attachment to the pachinko industry that makes it hard for them to see beyond it.”

Iwamoto’s father was a second-generation Zainichi Woorian who had built up one of the biggest pachinko chains in Chiba Prefecture within a single generation. He himself held onto his Woorian nationality, but had made his son become a naturalized Japanese citizen. At the moment, he had completely washed his hands of the company, refusing to take up even the seat of chairman.

“How’s your old man doing? I’d like to go pay him a visit, what with how much he’s done for me over the years.”

“Oh, he’s doing absolutely fine. He’s just thrown the company at me so he can go golfing everyday. I’m sure he’d be delighted if you visit him.”

I had a bite of my Japanese Black wagyu, washed it down with red wine, then enjoyed a mouthful of garlic rice. During that time, Iwamoto continued talking.

“I’ll give your suggestion of the hotel business some serious thought. The locations that you suggested — Funabashi, Ichinoe, and Kinshicho — all seem really good, too. If the foreign tourists really are going to come, setting up hotels with rooms priced at several dozen US dollars a night could become quite lucrative. Then I’ll also take a look at entering the brothel industry that my old man never touched. Like, cabaret clubs and stuff...”

“The competition in that industry is quite fierce, and I can’t guarantee you turning a profit...”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be doing it mainly as a hobby.”

Our laughter rang out as we raised a toast to the new challenges that we would each be facing.

◇ ◇ ◇

“It’s been ten years since then, huh. It sure went by fast.”

When I was going through my things in preparation for my move from Shishibone to Mizue, I ended up finding an old picture that made me recall the past. After that episode, Iwamoto’s company successfully struck out into the hotel business, and he became the president of a pachinko and a hotel chain. Aside from that, he also had a few cabaret clubs going, but well, as long as he’s having fun, I have nothing to say.

It had been a bit of a gamble at the time, but the Democratic Party did get voted out as I had predicted. Then the Urabe administration came into power and foreign tourists flocked to the country en masse, pushing the hotel industry to unprecedented highs. Iwamoto’s company, which had started early enough to be more than ready for the influx, was seeing record highs year after year. As for me, I had changed a lot, too, in the past ten years.

“Who would have imagined the emergence of the dungeons? And ten years from now...”

Will humanity be wiped out? Or will our race reach a whole new standard of living through whatever resources the dungeons provide? I suppose it’ll all depend on how much my efforts pay off.

“When I finish clearing all the dungeons, maybe I should retire like Iwa-chan’s old man. Enjoying Akane’s swimsuit-clad figure at the beach doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all.”

I laughed a little, then put the album away into a cardboard box.

Ezoe Kazuhiko's Stroll Through Edogawa City 1 - The Sights of Mizue

The Mizue area was located a bit east of the center of Edogawa City. The former neighboring villages of Mizuho and Ichinoe got merged together to form the bigger village of Mizue. In terms of the small district divisions, “chome,” 1-chome to 4-chome was where the old Mizue Village lay. However, then the region expanded both westward and eastward, the Toei Shinjuku Line added Mizue Station in 1986, and the population rose even higher. Currently, Mizue Station saw roughly fifty-six thousand visitors daily, and that number was increasing year-after-year. Redevelopment was under way, with large discount stores cropping up in the area around the station.

◇ ◇ ◇

It was around the end of the summer of 2019 that I moved to Mizue. I’d previously been living in Shishibone, a railway blindspot nicknamed “Landbound Solitary Island” that was farther than thirty minutes of walking from the nearest train station. However, I was quite familiar with the area, as I frequented the stores in front of Mizue Station. Having moved into an apartment in East Mizue that was only several minutes on foot from the station, I decided to explore my surroundings once things had settled down a bit. There were several supermarkets and well-established eateries with long histories quite close by. Though I would only be here for several months at most, I still hoped to find some good places to eat.

“Hmm, Mizue is a good town, but...looks like there aren’t all that many ramen places.”

There weren’t many foods that I disliked in general, but if asked what I liked, I would reply “ramen” without hesitation. My personal recommendations included Menya Joutou in Shin-Koiwa, Ramen Kioicho in Moto-Yawata, and Ramen Jiro in Ichinoe. In Mizue, however, there weren’t all that many actual ramen places, although there were Chinese restaurants that had ramen on their menus. This was why I frequently drove out to Koiwa or crossed the river to Chiba whenever I felt like having ramen.

“Hold on. There’s a ramen place here?”

I had walked down Mizue Eki Nishi Dori Avenue and wandered into East Mizue 1-chome when I suddenly came upon a ramen restaurant near Mizue Third Middle School. It was already after 1 pm, but as I hadn’t eaten yet, I decided to drop in.

“How do I read this name? Kimen? And this dish is...Kijiro?”

There were several post-its on the ticketing machine introducing the various items on the menu, including a “special ramen” and a “tsukemen” option, but I decided to try out the “Kijiro” that had first caught my eye. I grabbed a seat at the counter and found a pot of grated garlic and zha cai — which some people might know as “Szechuan pickles” — in front of me. Ah, so this place is one of those jiro-style ramen restaurants.

“Thank you for waiting. Here’s your Kijiro.”

“Thanks.”

The dish that I was served turned out to be very different from what I’d expected from hearing “jiro-style.” First, the mound of vegetables on top. In addition to the expected bean sprouts and cabbage, I also saw what looked like Chinese chives. Atop the vegetables was both grated garlic and fried garlic. And most surprising of all, black garlic oil had been poured over the whole thing.

“They’re abandoning the soft vegetables for a crunchy feel. As for the pork...”

Aside from one big piece of chashu pork, there were only five other pieces cut 5 mm thick. This, too, was a clear deviation from the jiro-style standard, which normally involved smothering the bowl with meat. There were even chicken tsumire meatballs. This was already far beyond the level of being a cheap imitation.

When I lifted the ceiling of pork, thick noodles came into sight. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say that the store was using ortion noodles. And judging from the sensation through my chopsticks, they weren’t the soft kind. I spied a noodle-making machine at the back of the store, so chances were that this place made their own noodles.

The broth was made from emulsified pork bone and back fat with soy sauce. I took a sip, then slurped a mouthful of noodles.

“I see the jiro-style influence in this dish. But at this point, it’s pretty much a completely whole new thing.”

This did not have the familiarity of jiro-style, but it was pretty delicious in and of itself. When I was halfway through my bowl, I added some of the garlicked zha cai. It didn’t completely change the taste, but I felt like the added garlic did bring more umami to the bowl. This was the kind of “junk food” ramen that I felt an urge for every once in a while.

“Thank you for waiting. Here’s your special ramen.”

A customer sitting two seats away from me had apparently ordered something different. It turned out to be an orthodox-seeming soy sauce ramen topped with chashu braised at low heat.

“So there is a pretty decent ramen place in Mizue. This was a good find.”

It just so happened that this restaurant was conveniently only a few minutes’ walk away from my new home. I made a mental note to try the special ramen next time as I left the store and turned towards the direction of South Shinozaki.

Tokyo TV End of Year Special Program “A World with Dungeons”

“Next, I’d like to ask about the economic effects that the dungeons would bring. Ezoe-san, in your expert opinion as a former Small and Medium Enterprise Management Consultant, are the emergences a positive thing or not?”

Upon hearing my question, Ezoe-san straightened his posture. This kind of macroeconomic question was something that I’d normally only ask an analyst from a brokerage firm or a top executive from a foreign capital investment consulting company. Would it be too much for a former street-level Small and Medium Enterprise Management Consultant? As if in anticipation of my misgivings, the man across from me started with a caveat.

“Before I answer, I want everyone to understand that what I used to be was a small-time Small and Medium Enterprise Management Consultant in a tiny corner of Edogawa City. I do not have the knowledge needed to talk about things like what the global economy will be like one hundred years from now. Keeping that in mind, the way I see it is that whether the dungeons turn out to be a plus or a minus will depend heavily on the respective country’s approach to them. If, like Japan, a country proactively aims for the clearing of the dungeons, sets up a proper system for the exchange of magic stones for cash, and puts effort into converting their energy policies, then the dungeons would indeed provide an enormous positive boost. As I had mentioned in my presentation for the Dungeon Bootcamp, magic stones can be used to break water down into its components, hydrogen and oxygen. Our country’s government and academia are working together in the development of a hydrogen energy plant design that can run completely on hydrogen. I hear that they are already in the trial phase, which places Japan ahead of the rest of the entire world in this field. All sorts of industries stand to benefit greatly from us achieving 100% energy self-sufficiency.”

“All the car companies in our country are currently racing to develop engines that run on hydrogen fuel, with Toshima Motor Corporation being a prominent example. At the same time, All Nippon Oil & Energy Corporation is also rapidly installing hydrogen fuel stands. It seems like a future where all cars run on hydrogen fuel is not all that far off.”

Many of the other corporations that I had interviewed also seemed to hold very high expectations of this energy revolution. Then there were the pharmaceutical companies that seemed extremely interested in the potions and various medicinal items that the dungeon adventurers were bringing back. But the thing that I’d heard the most excitement for was in regard to the youthening effect caused by the Enhancement Element generated by killing monsters inside the dungeons. There were many, many voices touting this as the solution to the problem of our rapidly aging society.

“In light of the magic stones and the various items attainable through the Card Gacha system, every time someone steps inside a dungeon, they are contributing to the national economy. I am turning forty-one next year, but my body’s clock has been turned back, has been youthened, and now I don’t look a day older than thirty. The easier bootcamp shouldn’t be that much of a burden; I’m sure that even those in their fifties to seventies could go through it without much difficulty. If the Ministry of Defense and Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare worked together, I’m sure they could come up with an even shorter bootcamp program. The more proactively we try to use the dungeons, the more benefits it will bring to our economy. In contrast, if a country chooses to ignore the dungeons and treats them like something smelly that needs to be lidded firmly — like a certain country that I won’t name — these dungeons could turn around and instead damage their economies.”

“How so?”

“It is thought that the Dungeon Emergence Phenomenon is going to keep going for a while longer, but there’s no telling where future dungeons will emerge. Imagine what would happen if a dungeon entrance appeared in the middle of Shibuya Scramble Crossing. Traffic would be completely cut off. We already have an example of this in Franze. A dungeon appeared on Avenue des Champs-Élysées, and the entire traffic grid of the city has become paralyzed. And currently, there is no known way to make the dungeons disappear. I believe that the economy of Franze is currently suffering quite significantly as a result of this.”

“What do you say to the opinion that the dungeons might disappear by themselves if we waited long enough?”

“That is unfounded wishful thinking. The economy is a living thing. I do not think it wise to close our eyes to a currently occurring issue for mere empty optimism. In any case, the world economy is eventually going to see a drastic shift due to the incorporation of everything that the dungeons bring. Going forward, Japan is going to become not only a major energy exporter, but also an exporter of technologies, know-how, and perhaps one day, dungeon adventurers themselves.”

“It is true that Japan seems to be two or three steps ahead in regards to the clearing of the dungeons. A future where we would be dispatching dungeon adventurers as human resources to clear other countries’ dungeons for them...that is an interesting idea. Moving on, shall we talk about the dungeon adventurer initiative?”

◇ ◇ ◇

Being able to answer obvious and common sense questions in seemingly poignant and meaningful ways was a necessary skill as a management consultant. I wet my throat with the cup of iced tea before me and waited for the next question.

“In October, Japan’s dungeon adventurer initiative entered its trial phase. I’ve heard that you were consulted by the Dungeon Adventurer Administrative Bureau on this matter. Can you tell us more about the focus of this initiative? Furthermore, how do you think it’ll change going forward?”

“The key to the initiative is aiming to encourage civilians who want to enter the dungeons of their own accord. At the moment, the only people officially allowed inside are licensed adventurers, like myself, and the JSDF. I’ve heard that the Gamerican army has set up a special task force for clearing dungeons, but personally speaking, I think it’s going to fall apart.”

“Why is that? Even in our own country, there are voices questioning the need to spend such a large amount of taxpayer money setting up such a complicated system when we can just send the JSDF in. As they say, it seems like a natural extension of the JSDF’s existent duty of dealing with security issues that arise within our borders.”

“I have also read such comments online, and a portion of the opposition party have been vocalizing the same view. ‘We can just manage the time spent inside the dungeons and pay the JSDF members wages based on those numbers,’ they say. There’s nothing wrong with the logic of the idea itself, but this application would hit a wall at a certain point. Someone who’s fighting with his or her life on the line simply because they were ordered to would not be able to last long in the dungeons; the environment is far too harsh for it. A personal motivation is paramount to last any prolonged period of time down there.”

Seeing Oosuka tilt her head in puzzlement, I proceeded to elaborate. This was an extremely important point. If I failed to convey it to her, it would mean I’d have failed to convey it to all the viewers back home.

“Soldiers fight with their lives on the line on battlefields. They do it to protect their country, protect their family. In this case, a clear and well-defined enemy is before them, and there is a clear goal: victory. The information that they need to achieve this goal is fed to them along the way. Even with all this, there are soldiers who end up with mental trauma. Fighting with one’s life on the line is simply that corrosive to the human psyche. But then we have the dungeons, where conditions are even harsher. How so? What makes the dungeons harsher is that there’s no goal. The duty of an adventurer is to fight monsters and collect magic stones. Against the same monster, they have to fight and fight and fight and fight. Imagine this: You are inside Yokohama Dungeon. Inside this dim and gloomy place, you have to kill the rabbit-like monsters hundreds, thousands, tens of thousand, hundreds of thousands of times. It’s just days and days of slaughter, with you constantly being afraid of losing your life due to any tiny misstep. There’d be no end in sight, just the same thing day in and day out. What do you think? Do you think you’d be able to stand it?”

Oosuka gulped audibly. I wasn’t singling her out; very few people would. Soldiers who were simply obeying orders would not be able to last long in the dungeons. The same went for self-interested motivations like money. The monetary appetite of a large majority of people did not exceed ¥10 million per month.

“To continue fighting inside the dungeons, one needs to be either doing it for someone else or for some other powerful motive. Furthermore, they would need companions who they could rely on and would rely on in return. This is the reason I founded Dungeon Busters Inc. Though this might sound a bit immature, I do want to save the world. To that end, I believe that the dungeons need to be cleared.”

Oosuka nodded two times, three times. Apparently I had gotten through to her. She really is a veteran at this; it’s truly masterful how she’s been maintaining control over the atmosphere of this interview this whole time. If given the chance, I’d like very much to visit “reliable old Tokyo TV” once again. Oh, looks like we still have a bit of time. Here comes the next question.

The Story of a Certain Doctor

“Doctor, it’s an emergency! A child just came in with a terrible fever...”

“This is awful! He’s spasming. Give me 300 mL of acetaminophen!”

“Doctor, we’re out...”

The nurse’s reply caused the doctor to grind his teeth in frustration. Even drugs that could be purchased for merely three US dollars in an industrialized country were extremely difficult to procure here. This was his third year after returning to his home country of Venisuela and working in a hospital in Caracas. During that time, he had watched conditions in the country get worse and worse. At the moment, the only thing he could do for the child was to wet a towel and cool down his forehead and neck. What was the point of going to America to study medicine? He clenched his fists and cursed his helplessness.

“MSF (Doctors Without Borders) might still have some. Let’s go ask.”

Within this country that had seemingly plunged into poverty in the blink of an eye, there were currently numerous medical teams rushing about all throughout. In the southeastern state of Bolivar was a malaria epidemic that MSF was currently spearheading a battle against. The capital, Caracas, had turned into the world’s most crime-infested city, and cases of violence against women and children were through the roof.

“Doctor, please take some rest. You’ve been working non-stop for three whole days now.”

When the doctor sat down at the desk in his waiting room, a powerful wave of exhaustion washed over him. He laid his head in his arms and immediately drifted off, even as a stream of tears flowed from his right eye. Was it because he was tired? Was it because of how helpless he felt? Only he would know, but he had already blacked out.

◇ ◇ ◇

Venisuela had been a country of plenty twenty years ago. The man had traveled to the States on a scholarship and graduated university with a medical license. After working as a doctor in Gamerica for ten years, he decided to come home. Both his parents still lived in Venisuela, as did his soccer friends from his youth. He wanted to use his skills to serve those from his community.

For the first year, he worked as hard as he could, fueled by those aspirations. The country was wracked with terrible inflation due to the government’s failed economic policies, but he managed to hang on, using his savings from his time in the States.

In the second year, he slowly began to see reality for what it was. The Madura administration, which touted anti-Gamericanism and anti-marketism, had promised to rectify social stratification to create a fair and egalitarian society. Instead, it created a minority privileged class of the super wealthy against an overwhelming majority of the impoverished. As children starved and rummaged through trash cans for food, high-ranked government officials, proprietors of state-run businesses, top models, and athletes working out of Gamerica scooped up all the real estate in Caracas. Right next to the slums where the poor lived, the super rich drove their sports cars and threw lavish hotel parties. This was apparently the “fair and egalitarian society” that the Madura administration had spoken of.

In the third year, the doctor turned forty years old. He found himself torn between the urge to give up and the feeling that he had to do something. Half of the aid coming from the Red Cross had been tucked into someone’s pocket. The government itself was a mafia organization. Those who tried to live an upright life were persecuted and stolen from. Right next to children with stomachs bloated from malnutrition, the entitled few wolfed down hamburgers. How could they do something like that? Did they not feel any shame in what they were doing? “Malice over goodwill” was fast becoming the rule of this land.

◇ ◇ ◇

While the doctor was passed out at his desk, the child’s fever subsided. He had gotten lucky. Here, people dropped like flies. The doctor’s ability to feel sorrow had gone numb long ago. He dragged his tired body back home, relieved that the child had pulled through. He was living with his mother in an apartment a slight distance away from the slums. In this neighborhood, driving a car would only be asking for trouble. He furtively slipped into the front door of his building. He pressed the button for the elevator, but there was no response. His tiredness made him a bit irritable. He jammed down the button a few more times, then gave up and took the stairs. At home, his elderly seventy-year-old mother was asleep in her chair. He decided not to wake her. In her dreams, at least, she could find some measure of escape.

“Nn... Welcome back.”

The smell of the food, though, woke her up. Together, they spooned down a thin soup of mostly potatoes. There were tons of people who did not have access to even such meager fare. On the other side of the globe, there were apparently people who would nonchalantly throw away perfectly edible food. In Gamerica, there were annual hot dog eating contests. Even though so many lives could be saved with a single hot dog, those people consumed them needlessly. This doctor wasn’t hoping for extravagance. He didn’t need a laptop or a smartphone, either. All he wanted was to live without shivering from the cold and without cowering in fear of violence. That was all he wanted, but even this seemed impossible to realize. If hell truly existed, this world, at this moment, would be it.

“You haven’t laughed in quite a while.”

His mother’s words prompted the man to lift his head. Just when was the last time that he had laughed from the bottom of his heart? Perhaps he had already forgotten how to laugh. He stuck a finger inside his mouth and pushed the corner up. When he pulled his hand back out, however, emptiness rushed into his heart. He thought about changing the subject. The longer he thought about trying to laugh, the harder it was to bear.

“The elevator’s broken. I’ll go buy more food tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to push yourself, you know? Feel free to just leave me here, and return to Gamerica. This country is already doomed. At least save yourself.”

Just how much easier would it be if he could actually bring himself to do that? Every time he believed someone, he was betrayed. Every time he got his hopes up, they would be dashed. But even so, there was some small part of him that still clung to that hope. He nodded at his mother’s words, then smiled desolately.

◇ ◇ ◇

The doctor visited the market. The city was starving, but not because of a severe shortage of foodstuffs. A kilogram of potatoes could be bought for two US dollars. This was a price that many citizens of industrialized countries would think “dirt cheap.” In Caracas, however, the large majority of working people earned only six US dollars a month. This was clearly far from enough to live off of.

When the doctor left the market, his purchase inside a cloth bag, a child ran up to him. It was the boy who had been carried in the other day, hovering on the verge of death due to a fever. Children had incredible vitality. Apparently he had already recovered enough to be running. For the first time in a long time, a real smile — small though it was — came onto the doctor’s face.

“Doctor, thank you very much.”

“Looks like you’ve gotten quite better. Make sure to wash your hands, all right?”

“Of course! Umm...thing is, my little brother has gotten hurt. Could you come take a look? Please?”

Hindsight would have told the doctor that he had gotten careless. He forgot that he was holding a bag of food and that he would be walking into the slums with it. He had foolishly believed in the child’s smile and words of gratitude.

The instant the man entered the ruined building where the boy’s little brother was supposedly staying, he received a blow to the back of his head and fell to the ground. Kicks landed on his back and abdomen.

“Grab his money! And the food!”

“What should we do with him?”

“Chuck him into that hole. Leave him to die.”

After the sensation of being dragged along the ground came the sensation of being pushed down a long, long flight of stairs. Pain shot through the doctor’s entire body. After a while, his senses returned to him. He found himself lying face down on a cold, hard floor. Slowly opening his eyes, he realized that it was dim all around. He tried to stand up, but a sharp pain shot through his leg. Perhaps it was broken. And so he turned to his side. His sight blurred as tears welled up from both eyes.

“Are you crying?”

The doctor heard a mysterious voice. It was the voice of a girl, and it entered his pounding head like a cool, clear stream. A face framed by blue hair entered his blurry field of view.

“You’re hurt. Drink this. It’ll help.”

“I...want...to die...” The man thought he said.

In response, the girl tilted her head quizzically and asked, “Why?”

Because I was betrayed again. I lost to malice. I tried to change things, but I’m done. This world can be destroyed for all I care.

The man wasn’t sure whether he had replied out loud, but he did realize that something was being poured down his throat. The pain receded rapidly, and his consciousness swam back. He got up, and found himself in an empty room made of stone.

The blue-haired girl softly said, “At this rate, everything is going to be destroyed anyways. Why not just do whatever you want?”

She pointed to the depths of the room, where a pair of large double doors loomed invitingly.