Chapter 1 No Otherworlders Allowed in the Dungeon

“A comprehensive progress status remains unclear as we cannot identify if there are any underground structures in the city. I can, however, display real-time surveillance data over a bird’s-eye-view map of the aboveground terrain.”

“Good enough. Set a drone or two to fly around me, too.”

“Understood.”

Now, how about we go check out that dungeon?

Constructed from stones, the city had an antiquated feel. A fortified wall surrounding it also gave it the appearance of a fortress.

Entering through the large open gates, I discovered a world bursting with activity. Beings of all sorts of races and horses drawing heavily laden carts went to-and-fro along the cobblestoned main street. Street vendors shouted over one another, blacksmiths pounded away at their steel, and alluring beastmaids called out enticingly to coax customers into their stores of employment. Countless resplendent weapons lay out in rows under the eaves of the shops lining the road. Would adventurers be the ones to stop and examine them?

Gorgeous women of fantastical species stole my attention. One long-legged, beautiful elf had porcelain-white skin and hair that seemed to be made of golden dust. Another woman unblushingly displaying a generous helping of skin and scales had fiery-red locks and a matching tail. Curly horns and fluffy wool sprouted from the body of a full-figured lady who walked with a staff taller than she was. I also spotted a female knight who, like one I’d seen before in a video game, was covered head to toe in a full suit of armor. The sight of her moved me. I would have jumped at the chance to team up with her.

An aromatic blend of foreign spices wafted my way along with medicinal smells that assailed my nostrils and the intoxicating perfumes of passersby. I heard the vividly explosive sounds of clanging steel and roaring flames, noticed the pockets of stillness formed in spite of this crushing river of people, and felt the danger lurking down the narrow alleys I peeked into.

And yet, I didn’t experience the sense of alienation a foreigner usually gets in an unfamiliar country. Everywhere I looked, my eyes landed on incredible diversity: an abundance of color, monsters of all stripes and shapes, and chaotic scenes different from anything I’d ever seen before. All the people around me were too far beyond outlandish to process, but they walked through the street as if nothing could be more normal.

I had worried I might stand out, though I shouldn’t have bothered. Compared to the people walking around with multicolored wings sprouting out of their backs or the three-eyed beastfolk I’d passed, a lone Japanese man looked plain, so very plain. I got the feeling I’d fit in just as well if I’d come wearing a full-blown kimono, my hair in a topknot, a katana at my side.

The small river Ghett had vanished into flowed through the city. The town appeared to have other springs as well, and Machina’s survey showed that a simple water and sewage system had been set in place. Establishments resembling bathhouses dotted the area. Could that mean the town also boasted bountiful supplies of combustible resources?

The path to the dungeon was a straight shot down the road. I didn’t even need to use the location-tracking feature on my device to find it. My destination was way too huge to ever miss. After walking about twenty minutes, I finally stood before it.

Yep, that’s pretty damn big.

Getting closer only drove home how enormous it was. According to Machina’s structural calculations, it was so tall that no currently available materials would be able to replicate even just the portion visible aboveground. And strangely enough, though most towers got thinner the higher up they went, this one flipped that on its head. It started off wide at the top and narrowed the farther down it went. I was supposed to explore that narrow section, the part sticking into the ground. Exactly how long was it? I couldn’t even begin to imagine.

It looked to be made of something like an elephant’s tusk. I decided to take a sample just in case. As a last resort, I figured I could plan to blast a hole in it with some TNT and make my way down, but I’d need to verify whether the material was something I could blow up in the first place.

I followed the flow of people and almost immediately found the entrance. I say “entrance,” but it was basically a cavity that something had busted open. The smell of alcohol and grilled meat floated all around me once I stepped inside, emanating from a large pub set up near the opening. The sun still shone high in the sky, but that didn’t stop some of the patrons from already being drunk off their asses. People like that were universal, I guess. Paper slips that I took to be job postings covered a great big billboard. Most surprisingly, a line of portals stood in the back of the cavernous space. I watched as adventurers popped in and out of them.

“The fields are stabilized. Fascinating.” I jumped at Machina’s voice coming through the receiver.

“I guess they invented those portals?” I’d known this ahead of time, but this place was full of other things I didn’t know about.

My eyes landed on a reception-like area of the hall. A couple of clerical-type ladies attended to several explorers. There were quite a few counters, so I wasn’t sure where to line up.

“Machina, can you analyze the writing here?” I asked.

“Analysis in progress. It will most certainly be quicker if you pose your query to a local inhabitant,” she suggested.

“Okay.” Good point. Just then, I saw a woman carrying a bundle of documents and decided to ask her for help. “Excuse me, this is my first time here. Which line should I use?”

“Welcome. You’ll find new adventurer registration and screening for permits to explore the dungeon at the far-right counter,” the cat-eared young lady explained with a dazzling smile. Luckily, nobody waited ahead of me in line, so I took a seat at the counter. Across from me stood a woman with two horns protruding from her head and a face completely devoid of emotion. She had a slender frame and lovely silver hair.

“……Yes?” she asked in a bitterly cold tone.

“Uh, I’d like to explore that dungeon. I heard I could take care of the paperwork for that here.” Had I gotten the wrong counter?

“I see. You should have started with that.”

“I’m sorry.” What was with this intimidating presence? I felt like I was dealing with a violent beast.

“In that case, please fill out the required forms.” She handed me some papers resembling lambskin and an inked pen.

“……”

I couldn’t read it. I didn’t even know what it was asking for.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know how to read or write in this language.”

“I see. You should have told me sooner. I’ll fill it in for you, so allow me to ask you a few questions.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s my job.” She spun the papers around to face her. “Are you registered with any other Adventurers Guild?”

“No.”

“State your name and place of origin.”

“My name is Souya—of Japan.”

“Japan? I haven’t heard of it before. Is it out on the Left Continent?”

“Even farther out than that—it’s in another dimension,” I blurted out, then immediately regretted it.

Shit. Should I have kept that a secret? This is a different continent for sure, but the last batch of humans who came did absolutely nothing to earn a good rep there. Are they gonna kick me out? Argh, this is such a basic thing to mess up. Our whole mission here was supposed to be pretty covert, wasn’t it?

Just then, Machina whispered in my ear, “It’s merely a paper form. If we determine the situation is dangerous, I’ll sneak a drone in and revise the entry or burn the evidence. You would have risked garnering suspicion had you responded with a string of flimsy lies. Answering honestly was the prudent choice.”

Gotcha.

“Oh, you’re an Otherworlder? Haven’t seen many of your kind recently,” the receptionist noted before adding the information to my form without any real follow-up. “For what purpose do you intend to explore the dungeon?”

“Monetary gain.”

“I see, monetary gain. You should be aware of one important rule of this dungeon. If explorers acquire takings worth more than fifty gold pieces in a single expedition, they are required to pay a one percent tax on the total value to the Kingdom of Remlia,” she explained. “Payment is accepted in coins, paper bills printed by the Central Continental Trade Group, or even in raw materials from the dungeon. You must submit your tax seven days from the date a trade group appraises the value of your harvest. Should we find you misrepresented the value of your resources or fail to submit your payment within the allotted time, we will confiscate all of the equipment you own. I suggest you don’t do anything stupid if you do not wish to end up stripped naked at the bottom of the sewer.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Scary as hell.

“Do you suffer from any physical irregularities, mental irregularities, or magical afflictions? Have any members of your family or lineage ever been cursed? Have any close relatives passed away due to infectious disease?”

“No.” My good health was one of my only redeeming qualities.

“Do you hold animosity or hatred toward any particular species, religion, or nationality? Additionally, have you ever been the target of such discrimination?”

“No.” I answered quickly, but then the thought of the battalion dispatched here crossed my mind. People tended to lump other people from the same unfamiliar culture all together. I could shout myself sore explaining I had nothing to do with them, but there was a chance nobody would listen.

“Is there a problem?” She’d seen right through me.

“I just realized there might possibly be some people who have it out for me, maybe.”

The receptionist trained her sharp eyes on me. “I won’t put anything down if it’s not a clear threat. You probably have nothing to worry about. No one, under any circumstances, can delve down into the dungeon alone. But the moment you forge partnerships, you also create enemies. Win honor and you will also naturally earn resentment and jealousy. What matters is whether or not you have the determination to not let that crush you.”

“Then it should be okay.”

I mean, it’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to run. I’ll turn whatever shade they throw at me into fuel to keep going.

“Let’s continue. What was your previous occupation?”

“Umm…” How could I explain it in terms that made sense here? I guess a temp agency was kind of like—

“A mercenary, basically.” It wasn’t exactly right, but it wasn’t far off.

“Do you belong to any religion?”

Is my family in the Jodo Shinshu sect? Oh, but I am Japanese after all, so more broadly I can just say—

“Yes, Shinto.”

“Shintoe?” she repeated, sounding it out. “Don’t know it. Could you give me a brief overview?”

“It’s a polytheistic religion that’s very accepting of gods from other religions. We don’t follow any specific commandments, but we do appreciate nature and all forms of life, and we make sure to give special thanks for our food, particularly during meals. We strive to live as upstanding people and bring shame upon ourselves if we stray from that path. It’s kind of a loose compilation of all these values and, like, Japanese sensibilities? It’s kinda just vague, you know?” The more I spoke, the less I followed what I was saying. Did this even count as a religion?

“Polytheistic, doesn’t mess with other religions. No commandments. Meals are savored. A set of intuitive values unique to the Japanese race, correct?” Basically, in a nutshell. “Next, please tell me the name of the god with whom you have consecrated your covenant,” she continued.

“Huh?”

“I mean the god you’ve made your contract with.” But I wasn’t ever baptized. “A god from our world would be best, but we can also work with gods from other dimensions,” she explained. “It’s been done before.”

“It’s just, I don’t have one. A covenant.” Was that something we even had the chance to do in modern-day Japan? I had no clue.

“I see.”

“Is that bad or something?”

Her expression remained completely impassive. “It is rather rare. However, there are some people who choose to break off their consecrated covenants of their own volition and others who fall out of favor with their gods and have the contracts severed that way. Still others reject the idea of a divine blessing from the start. If you’re asking whether not having one is a problem, then not really. There are plenty of more miserable and pitiful souls out there.”

“Really? That’s good to hear.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

“The only issue is that you cannot enter the dungeon.”

Game over.

No matter how depressed you felt, how desperate you might become, or how much you might want to break down and cry, hunger waited for no one. But as long as you found yourself in a social structure such as a town, you wouldn’t have too much trouble filling your grumbling stomach. If you had money, that is.

If I hadn’t had any money on me, I think I might’ve seriously lost all hope.

I followed the map the receptionist gave me until I reached the coin dealer. The shop stood far removed from the main street, whose clangor echoed in the distance. I opened the steel door to the store, most likely installed to prevent theft, and was greeted by a youngish shopkeeper and his ingratiating salesman’s smile.

“Welcome. What might we help you with today?” His voice rang much brighter than the dim room in which we stood. Weighing scales of varying sizes were arranged all around in an almost Middle Eastern design. A brawny, bodyguard-type man wielding a large sword stood next to the shopkeeper at the counter. As soon as I entered the store, the man who had been lurking in the shadows by the entrance positioned himself behind me.

Guess it’s better safe than sorry when you’re dealing dangerous sums of cash.

“I’d like to change these into the local currency,” I announced, placing gold bars on the counter. They’d been packed in a container to help with garnering initial funds. Only three damaged bars and half of a whole one had made it.

“One moment, please.” The shopkeeper wiped the bars down with a cloth and ran his eyes along every inch of them from several angles. “Sir, it appears the stamps on these have been filed down.”

“They slipped and fell from my hands. It was an accident.”

“Ha-ha-ha, well, let’s leave it at that,” replied the shopkeeper with a pointed grin. He placed the bars on one half of a scale, then filled bags on the opposite half with sand. Once they balanced out, he moved the bags to another scale and weighed these against round pieces of metal. “It amounts to forty gold and eight silver pieces,” he announced. “That’s a fair appraisal based on the rigorous standards of the Zavah Night Owl Trade Group. Would you like to have these evaluated at another location as well?” That came to five gold pieces more than Machina’s estimate.

“No, that’s fine. I’d also like to break some of that into smaller pieces if you could.”

“Of course, not a problem.”

Unless there had been some extreme fluctuations in the market, ten copper pieces should have been worth one silver, and ten silver pieces worth one gold piece. “I’ll take fifty pieces of copper and silver.”

“If I may, we also handle Mythlanic gold,” suggested the shopkeeper.

“Myth-what?” I repeated, not really understanding what he’d said.

“Are you perhaps from a different continent?” he asked.

“No, I’m from another dimension.”

I’d let the cat out of the bag yet again.

“I see. No wonder. I had thought the fabric of your cloak looked rather unfamiliar,” he remarked, his eyes fixed on my poncho.

“Ha-ha-ha.” I laughed it off and forced a polite smile.

“My apologies. Mythlanic gold pieces were once used as common currency among the three countries that controlled this region at the time. These historical coins are enriched with magic, albeit trace amounts. We no longer possess the technology to manufacture them. They’re rare and valuable. The current rate is twenty gold for one piece.”

“No thanks, I’ll pass.” Stocks and futures trading were a bit much for me.

“Very well. Your coins, sir.” The shopkeeper took three leather bags from a worker in the back of the shop. “Fifty copper, fifty-three silver, and thirty-five gold pieces, if you would please confirm.”

“Thank you.” Tedious as it was, I got to work lining up the coins in rows of ten to double-check.

“Are we in agreement?” he asked.

“All in order.” It was all there.

“Our fee comes to one silver piece.” I took two silver from the leather bag and placed them on the counter.

“Thank you kindly. Our trade group offers all manner of wares essential for the prepared adventurer. I do hope you’ll have a look around our flagship store down the main street from the First Gate.”

“How did you know I was an adventurer?” I asked.

“This is an adventurer’s town; nobody but adventurers and those who seek their fortune serving them live here,” he replied.

There was at least one of those men right here, shriveling before me, very much not in the dungeon. I put a few coins in my pockets and the rest in my backpack.

“I pray you’ll forgive another impertinent question, sir,” began the shopkeeper as I fixed the straps on my shoulders, “but is that perchance a gun?”

“……” It’d been one surprise after another since I came here, but this made me break out in a cold sweat. Nobody had warned me about this. Did people here understand the value of a gun?

“Uhhh, well,” I hemmed. It would’ve been easy to refuse to answer outright, but information was a thousand times more valuable here. I chose my next words carefully. “You surprised me. You have them in this country, too?”

“Yes, we have dwarf-crafted models, most recently used to great effect not long ago in the war against the elves.” I grimaced at the word war. Please don’t let any more of those break out while I’m here.

“If you don’t mind, could you show me one of the models used in these parts?” I asked.

“Of course, gladly,” he responded, then shouted “Hey!” to call someone in the back and order him to bring over a gun.

It was a long-barreled musket, as large as a spear, decked out along the sides with a golden carving of a human holding a lance who was stabbing an elf to death. It had a loose trigger, something I assumed was a flashpan made out of a gemstone-like material, and still smelled strongly of smoke, probably black powder. Technologically speaking, it seemed to be on par with sixteenth-century flintlock muskets.

“What would you say to twenty gold pieces? This one has a long and storied past. I imagine it will only continue to increase in value. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“No, I’m good.”

“A pity. Well.” Out of things to do, the shop owner smiled. I interpreted that as, I showed you mine. Now it’s your turn, right? Making sure no one saw, I removed the AK-47’s magazine, slipped the strap off my shoulder, and handed him the rifle. The shopkeeper used a cloth to receive the gun (out of what I guessed were merchant’s manners) and took a careful look at every nook and cranny.

“A rather rustic specimen, isn’t it?” he remarked. “Not a hint of embellishment anywhere. The wood is nothing remarkable, though the metal weighs very little for steel. It seems to have quite a number of parts.”

“Are those local guns widely used among adventurers?”

“Two years ago, an adventurer shot his gun while in the dungeon, and the blast of gunpowder drew every single monster on that floor to him. My word, did the Guild have their work cut out for them. A whole team had to come together to clean up that mess.”

I need to check if I have a silencer once I get back to camp. All the strategies the Firm laid out for me will be useless if I can’t rely on my guns in the dungeon.

“Hmm, let’s see. I can offer you eighty—no, one hundred gold pieces for this. Would you consider letting me take it off your hands?” he offered.

“Sorry. This one’s not for sale.” I took back the AK-47 from the shop owner, who eyed it greedily. The money was tempting, but the Firm’s president had strongly impressed one thing upon me above all others:

“Do not unleash any technological singularities in the Other Dimension.”

Metal refinery methods, navigation techniques, developments in gunpowder, guns, pharmaceuticals, explosives, bacteria, aircraft, the nuclear realm, AI, the Internet—the list of advancements that catalyzed countless other discoveries could go on and on. Without exception, every world had people challenging themselves to break through the limits of existing technologies. Give those geniuses even the smallest hint and they were bound to run away with it, developing and disseminating new inventions at an explosive pace. It would be all too easy to imagine what might come next. But I’d come here to explore that dungeon. I wasn’t trying to be the spark to ignite the next war.

“Thanks for your help. See you around.”

“Oh, sir! A moment, please. I’d strongly suggest you allow us to escort you back to your—”

I quickly said my thanks and left the shop. The owner started saying something, but I just ignored him. I couldn’t have anyone tailing me, so I jogged for a bit to put some distance between myself and the store. After taking about three turns among the narrow back alleys, I wound up in a twisting, labyrinthine section of town. It did occur to me to ask Machina for directions, but I thought it might be fun to explore a bit on my own and kept going.

And fun it was. The uneven streets had sneaky drops so sudden I almost tripped over them, low-built roofs to perhaps deter riders on horseback from approaching, and patches completely submerged underwater. Lively scenes bursting with commotion were charming for sure, but this kind of quiet and calm neighborhood held its own sort of excitement, too. I felt like I was having my very own fairy-tale adventure.

My nose caught a whiff of some kind of roasted meat, and I screeched to a halt. I was hungry. The unending parade of nerves and surprises of the day had pushed it out of mind, but I was starving. I sprang into action more nimbly than I had since I’d first arrived in this world. The scent led me to a stand set up amid the eaves. I ordered one of whatever they sold without bothering to ask what it was. It came out to two copper pieces. Happy as a clam, I started walking off with it.

It looked similar to a kebab. A thick, round, crepe-like baked flour wrap swaddled the mystery meat, and I couldn’t tell it if had been stewed, or grilled, or what. I took a bite.

“Mm!” The juicy gravy from the meat beautifully complemented the simple wrap. If I wanted to be really critical, I would’ve said it could use a little more seasoning. But what kind of meat was this? It tasted like chicken but could’ve just as easily been pork.

“Alert. Mr. Souya, enemies approaching,” Machina warned, and I froze in place. “They have been tracking you since you left the coin dealer. I will now commence targeting as they have taken an undeniably hostile stance.”

I swallowed the rest of the kebab and washed it down with a swig of water from my bottle. Switching off the safety selector lever on my AK-47, I cocked the charging handle. Bullets loaded into the chamber.

“How many?”

“Three. One coming in at two o’clock and two from five o’clock.”

“Got it.”

“Countdown to contact: five, four, three, two, one.”

A man appeared. I turned my head and got a look at the other two behind me as well. The one in front of me, a picture-perfect delinquent, had a longsword hanging from his clothing.

“What do you want?” I asked. His face dropped for a split second when he realized I had been waiting for them. Then he spat out in an angry tone that gave away how little probably went on upstairs, “Money, all you’ve got. Hand it over and we’ll let you live.”

Short and sweet. I appreciated that.

I grabbed a random handful of coins from my pocket and flung them down the street; they turned out to be gold pieces. A dull echo reverberated off the cobblestones wherever they had bounced. Unfortunately for them, all three followed the coins with their eyes. By the time the closest one looked back up at me, I’d already closed the distance between us. I rammed the butt of my gun into his chin and felt bones crunch beneath it. Whipping around, I readied my weapon. One of the guys I got in his side; the other, in his kneecap. The blasts from the rifle resounded through the quiet backstreets. After a brief pause, anguished cries escaped the mouths of the wounded men.

“Enemy neutralized,” Machina announced.

“Any reinforcements?”

“Negative.”

“Doubt it.” I could feel a pair of eyes watching me. A shadow slinked quickly around the corner when I turned to look. It’ll be too risky to pursue them when I don’t know the lay of the land.

I picked up the empty shell casings and gold pieces. Just as I was considering retrieving the bullets, too, Machina interrupted and announced, “Caution, individuals approaching. Possibly residents responding to the gunshots.”

“Got it. We’re gonna run for it. Activate the locator.” The exit route appeared on the translucent EL display-panel lenses of my glasses. I followed it and quickly headed back to the main road. A burnt-red darkness had begun to inundate the streets. Once again joining the river of people that had now grown even more crowded, I walked with the flow for a bit, checking over my shoulder a few times to make sure nobody was on my trail. I could tell my racing heart wouldn’t subside until I’d made it back to camp, but that was fine.

Crystals embedded in the streetlamps began to illuminate the cobblestone pavement below them. Night completed its fall over the town, revealing an entirely new side of the settlement. A collective sigh of release at the day’s end was let out, and the town grew clamorous with sounds of drinks and food and talk of fame. Steamy women welcomed men who’d abandoned their wits and reduced themselves to fools. Songs, cries, and angry yells filled the air.

My eyes briefly met those of a beastmaid loitering about in sheer silk garb. Her eyes shone red, and long rabbit’s ears perked up from the top of her head. She grinned at me, but I looked away too quickly to tell if that meant she found me intriguing or thought she’d found her next mark. I passed a raucous party full of people of unfamiliar races, but I wasn’t yet acclimated enough to this world to join in the revelry.

Little by little, I left the hustle and bustle behind and stepped further into tranquility. A large bell rang out, perhaps to announce another day had drawn to a close. This one had brought me no results or rewards, only awareness of new problems to tackle. And so marked the end of my first exploration into the Other Dimension.

[2ND DAY]

The receptionist at the Adventurers Guild was called Evetta.

“I’ll search for a god who might agree to consecrate a covenant with you. Please come back again tomorrow,” she had told me the day before, then sent me away.

We hadn’t agreed on a set time, so I took it easy in the morning. I studied the map of the area Machina had made, organized my supplies, and worked on my camp setup. By the end of that period, I’d managed to bring the kitchen and toilet a few steps closer to the standards of modern civilization.

Ghett dropped by with some fish, and I cooked it up into a fish-bone-broth-style stew, and we ate together. I set the leftover catch to dry in the sun and got to town a little after midday. That’s when—

“You’re late.”

—I found Evetta standing in front of the gate. She’d drawn herself up to her full height, and her arms were crossed. Her displeasure came through her deadpan countenance quite clearly.

“Huh? What are you doing here?” I asked.

“The West Gate is the most heavily trafficked,” she explained.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I went around to all the major inns this morning, but I didn’t find you at any of them. Then I remembered your coral necklace. It’s a gift from the merfolk, right? It made me wonder if you’d set up your base outside of town,” she continued.

“Yes, but that’s not what I’m asking.”

“I do have someone waiting at the reception desk in case I missed you by any chance, you know.”

“Right, it’s important to cover your bases.” I was trying to ask why she’d gone out of her way to wait for me.

“……”

“……”

We both fell silent.

Then Evetta spoke, trembling slightly.

“I’m going all out on my first assignment, to no avail so far. You got a problem or something?”

“No! Not at all. Thank you very much! Also, I’m sorry!”

“It’s my job, after all,” she said, a stiffly prim look on her face. We collected ourselves and headed off god-hunting. But first I treated her to a late breakfast and lunch. It cost me a whole silver piece.

Our first choice was the god most adventurers made their pacts with. It was a collective god comprising the souls of six legendary adventurers depicted in famous ballads: Lumileux the Tempestuous, Duin the Silent, Garwing the Revolutionary Mage, Aldy of the Three Blades, Robbes the Resolute, and Thurseauve of Oblivion. People exalted their deeds and worshipped them together as Windovnickel, God of Adventurers. Although the god did not have a physical presence, the Disciples of Windovnickel worshipped the legendary adventurers through the stories of their deeds. It is said one can see footprints of their exploits in every dungeon in the world.

Their sanctuary had an atmosphere far too relaxed to feel like a real temple. In fact, it was actually a bar, complete with its own billboard of job postings. Though it was only midday, drunkards milled about.

“O ye who seeks to follow the path of the adventurer, our Lord Windovnickel will transform your inquisitive spirit into strength. Your honor will be immortalized in stories, tales which will give birth to miracles. And then you, too, will join their ranks in the saga carried on the wind one day. Have you the courage to confront hardship? There is no such thing as an easy adventure. One must maintain an indestructible will, unyielding resolve, and—,” and so on, rambled a man behind the bar. Everything about him screamed bartender, from his rippling muscles to his mohawk. A ridiculously huge battle-ax hung on the wall behind him.

“Hey, Boss. I’ll take a large root-veggie salad, three thick slices of dungeon pork, and I’ll have the large guinelle eggs soft-boiled. And one ale—ah, actually, I’m on the clock, so make that a milk,” said Evetta, rattling off her order.

I knew it; he’s the bartender. Wait, hold up. Didn’t you just polish off three whole entrées before we got here?

“Evetta. Give us some space,” asked the bartender.

“…I’m sorry. Force of habit.” Evetta trudged off to a seat across the room, then started to put in an order with a waitress.

“She still acts like an adventurer, even though she’s already crossed over to the admin side of things at the Guild,” he remarked.

“Ohhh, she used to be an adventurer?” I’d kind of gotten that feeling.

“So you must be the Otherworlder looking to try his luck as an adventurer that Evetta mentioned.”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“All right, up for a covenant?”

“I sure am!” Talk about laid-back. Not that I cared if it meant I could get this over with already. The boss placed a book on the counter and laid his hand over it.

“I am called Rasta ole Rhasvah. As a disciple of our Lord Windovnickel, I bestow upon you a new compass needle to guide you in your quests,” he began. “O man of youth, the path of adventure is full of treachery. To explore means to risk your life at all times. It is an austere life that no ordinary person can bear. And yet, we press on. Have you the determination to preserve an unshakable spirit until the last seconds you hold life within you? If it be so, proclaim your name and place your hand upon mine.”

My adventure is finally starting.

I called up all the resolve in my heart and laid my hand over his. It was hard and spoke of a tumultuous life. The bartender must have also been an adventurer once. And a famous one, at that.

“I am Souya of Japan.”

Spheres of light burst into life. Undimmed by the midday sun, they shone brilliantly, danced, and burst. Then, silence. I felt something welling up within me.

“All right, it’s a no go!”

“Why do you sound so happy?!”

I guess I’d just imagined the sensation.

“Boss! What is the meaning of this?” Evetta ran over to us. The boss put the book away and began wiping down the counter.

“Hmm, it’s probably that. I see it every once in a while. Have you got any dreams, young man?” he asked me.

“You could say so.”

“Are you talking about an ideal? Or a realistic desire? The thing about adventures is, they’re all about chasing after dreams almost guaranteed to never come true. Other gods may laugh ’em off, but our Lord blesses those kinds of ambitions. Our Lord Windovnickel is, after all, our hopes and dreams manifested into one.”

Doesn’t wanting to save my sister count as an ambition? Ah, maybe not. It’s not like she wants that for herself. The fact that my own goals are twisted hasn’t totally escaped me.

“I’ll give it to you straight. You are nothing like a typical adventurer. Try your luck elsewhere,” he advised. “Though, I do have a fun illustrated pamphlet for all new contracts of Lord Windovnickel, perfect even for someone like you who can’t read. What do you say to one gold piece?”

“I’ll pass.”

We decided to move on to the next option.

Flames: the most primordial of the magical crafts, a power easy to call forth but difficult to tame. They were here long before the giant who created the world, before the myriad gods in existence, before all else. The religion built around them did not worship a god in the flesh, either. According to the explanation I heard on the way over, its disciples subscribed to a creed steeped in fatalism that went, “From flames the world was made, and by flames shall it be unmade.”

Secure in their belief that all would one day return to oblivion, they eschewed unnecessary wealth and strove to live in honorable penury. War-devastated refugees laid the foundations for the sect, and mighty pyromancers spread its gospel across the world. Its god seemed to welcome a rather wide range of proselytes into its church, from ill-fated adventurers to those seeking to master the flamecraft, from those setting out on the path of adventure alone with nothing but the skin on their backs to the filthy rich who abandoned their bloated wealth to convert. I could see a towering bonfire raging within the temple’s open gates even as we walked by.

“Excuse me, you there.”

“Who, me?”

A dark-skinned beastman with a golden tail and pointed ears called out to me just in front of the entrance to the temple. A fox, maybe? He looked to be in his later teens.

“What business brings you to our temple?” he asked.

“I’d like to join your church.”

“Please leave.”

“That was quick!” I was at a total loss. He could at least tell me why.

“You look a little puzzled. It is true our Holy Flames refuse none—with one exception. You and that thing,” he said, gesturing at my neck. The necklace Ghett gave me hung around it. “Only those cloaked in water are out of the question. Would you be able to take responsibility if, by bringing that into our gates, you extinguished our Sacred Blaze?”

Does this thing have that kinda power?

“Discard the token of the Deep and I will allow you to gaze upon our Holy Flames, but no more,” he offered.

“No, I suppose this just wasn’t meant to be,” I responded.

“I suppose not.”

Thank you, next.

“Hark, I am Gladwein the Iron Arm! I have no need of feeble followers in my house! I want not your wealth, nor your honor, nor your blood, nor your words! Prove yourself to me with your body, with your skill!” and so on, yelled a woman who had apparently just recently come into godhood. Her billowing blond hair framed her bronzed, fierce face, and her body encapsulated the golden ratio of beauty and brawn. She pointed at those around her with a long, wide, thick sword I didn’t think I stood a chance of even picking up. She was essentially Hercules in female form. But more than that, more than anything else about her, my eyes were drawn to one thing—her clothing.

She was in a bikini suit of armor. A suit of armor—but a bikini. The top hugged her ample bosom; the panties cut a deep V-line; this was a real-deal suit of bikini armor.

“A famous anecdote tells of how once, when vanquishing an evil dragon, Lady Gladwein destroyed her own sword under the force of her power. Left with no other choice, she battled and slew the beast with her bare hands,” Evetta explained.

“She took down a dragon with her bare hands?!”

“Exactly. Every woman who dreams of becoming a vanguard idolizes her.” I immediately regretted leering at Lady Gladwein. She could crush me with a single fingertip.

“No good! Next!” she cried. The line I’d joined began inching forward. Up at the front, people assaulted the corpse of a massive boar. It measured about two meters long—crazy huge. Did this species only exist here?

“Nope! Next! You there!” she yelled at one of the hopefuls. “Your face screams defeat before you’ve even tried your hand! Come back another day! And you, you sorry dolt! I saw you scoffing at him! Try again in your next life!”

Some just weren’t cut out for the task at hand; others fell flat on their faces from the nerves; one snapped her lance in two; another swung his ax back only for it to go flying from his hands; each blundered in their own way. So far, twenty people in a row had failed to pass the test.

“Pretty sure I don’t belong here,” I muttered, venting my anxiety to Evetta.

“That’s not true. Look, there’s even a young boy here,” she noted in reference to the next challenger, a kid carrying a longsword on his back. I’d put him at around fourteen, fifteen years old. He was so young that he hadn’t finished growing into his full frame yet.

“Oh.”

But the very air changed the moment he readied his blade. His hands clasped gently around the hilt. He got low to the ground, crouched down like a hunting dog, then shot forward like a wild animal. Sword flashing in his thrust, it sank into the boar’s hide—and stayed there reverberating from the impact on its own, free from the boy’s hand.

“Urgh!” He’d been so close. If only he’d held on to the sword, he would’ve pierced straight through the carcass. At least that was my amateur read of it.

“What fool allows his weapon to slip through his fingers?!” berated the goddess to the young boy. He sheathed his sword and turned to leave without a word. “Nevertheless, I bestow the move two marks and your youth three! All together that makes half a man! Join the pride of my disciples and devote yourself in worship to me! You have a long road before you learn to move like a complete man!”

“Huh?” He turned around, dumbstruck. Only when cheers sprang up around him did he grasp what had just happened.

“Come now, here,” ordered the goddess. “Do you not seek a covenant with me?”

“Ah, uh, y-yes, please!” The room broke out in laughter. A warm, genial energy flowed around the wide-eyed, innocent adventurer.

“That young man has much to improve with his skills, but I see a bright future ahead of him,” commented Evetta.

“Makes sense.” He looked pretty skilled to me already. After him, not a single other applicant secured the pact they desired. I watched with a gnawing pain in my stomach until it was my turn.

“NEXT!” boomed the goddess. I held my breath and concentrated. I drew my woodsman’s hatchet and raised it above my head, my right hand wrapped around the handle, with my left gripping my right wrist. All I knew about swordsmanship was from the little taste of kendo we got in PE class, but it would have to do.

“Eh, aaaaaaaaaah!!” I shouted to psych myself up and used my whole body to swing the hatchet down. My eyes went dark for a second from screaming too hard. Once I could see the world around me again, I found the blade had sunk about two centimeters into the boar’s skin. But what was the verdict?!

“Out of the question!” I knew it! “Hey, Evetta,” called out the goddess. “Are you the one who brought this to me?”

“Yes, milady.” It looked like she and Evetta knew each other.

“In no way is he fit to be a vanguard,” she reproached her. “You should not have brought him here.”

“…Yes, milady.”

Was that true?

“NEXT!” I couldn’t have agreed more.

One thing I learned after traipsing all over town was that the gods of this world lived in very close proximity to normal people. And in just one day, I saw a ton of them—enough to shift my perspective on religion in general.

The overwhelming beauty of the women revered as goddesses particularly blew me away. Talk about a sight for sore eyes, a feast for the beholder. Even those goddesses of other races were so stunning in their variety that I couldn’t help but cry out in awe.

The male gods were all studs, too, I guess. Not that I cared or had any luck with them.

I saw and learned a lot. That’s gotta count for something. No doubt. Yeah.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

“Come on, don’t get so down,” I said. “I’m sure something good will come of all this.”

Twilight had blanketed the town. Evetta crouched down at the side of the road, her head cradled in her hands. I sat on the ground next to her.

“I never imagined every single god in town would turn us down,” she moaned.

“Yep, they sure did. Every last one. We came pretty close a few times, but nothing worked out in the end.”

“……I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” she apologized.

“You did a great job, Evetta. I just didn’t have any luck, is all.” I knew her job obligated her to help me, but she’d devoted the whole day to my case and had taken me all over town. I couldn’t blame her for anything.

“But we’ve come up completely empty-handed,” she protested.

“It’s just one of those days. I’ll bet this kinda thing happens when you go down in the dungeon, too, no?”

“Yes, that’s true.” She nodded her head very slightly a few times.

“Let’s go grab something to eat. My treat,” I suggested.

“Very well. I won’t go easy on your wallet.”

Hang on a second.

Just as we were getting into it—

“What have we here? Making a woman hang her head in a place like this—did you put a bun in her oven, you little devil?” sneered an unfamiliar voice. It came from a young girl with cat ears who stood there flicking her thin tail back and forth. Super adorable.

“What are you looking at her for? I’m right here, over here.” The voice did sound a bit low for someone so young, I thought, before realizing it actually belonged to the cat she held in her arms. It was ashy gray, all skin and bones. And it was talking.

“Did the cat say that?!” I exclaimed. This had to be the biggest shock I’d gotten since coming here.

“Pipe down; don’t get so rowdy,” the cat continued.

“Evetta, the cat! That cat is talki— Evetta?” I stopped short. All the blood had drained from her face.

“Souya, I’ll await you at the reception desk tomorrow. Please come before noon. I apologize again for today. I’ll take you up on that meal tomorrow and order enough for both days. If you’ll excuse me,” she spouted off quickly, then sprinted away at lightning speed. It only took a second to lose sight of her among the crowd.

Does she hate cats or something? I wouldn’t have guessed that.

“Hmph, looks like Little Miss Horns is rather weak-kneed. I won’t snatch your soul, fool,” scoffed the cat. “Now, you. Yes, you, half-wit.”

“Uhhh, what can I do for you?” I asked. The cat jumped out of the girl’s hands and walked up to me. It was filthy. Its fur looked like a raggedy, overused mop. Only its golden eyes stood out somewhat mysteriously.

“Give the child a tip for her trouble. She carried me all the way here,” the cat demanded. “You can’t very well leave her unrecompensed, now, can you?”

Why should I have to pay? I wondered. But the cat-eared girl was too cute to deny, so I fished a copper piece out of my pocket. The cat swiped the coin from me and handed it to the girl as if I’d had nothing to do with it.

“Good work, my dear. Take care as you head back to the temple. Do not stray or buy any treats on your way. Keep an extra watchful eye out for men, you hear?” The girl clutched the coin as one would a precious jewel, waved good-bye, and left. I waved after her, too.

“So…,” I started. Now it was just me and the cat, who rubbed its chin all over my knees. “What can I do you for, um, little kitty?”

“My name is Mythlanica, Souya, or whoever you are.”

Mythlanica… That sounds familiar. Where have I heard that before? Oh, right, at the coin dealer.

“That was quite the display of skill yesterday when you trounced those scoundrels. Praiseworthy, even,” the cat continued. My hand naturally shifted to rest on the hilt of my karambit, ready to draw it at any moment. It looked like this cat had been watching that little tussle.

“However, in so doing, you disturbed my slumber, a heinous crime punishable by certain death. You must now lay down your body to atone for this sin.” This cat just straight up told me to die.

“What exactly would that entail?” I asked.

“Devoting the remainder of your life to serving me,” the cat replied, cementing my impression of cats as smug little creatures who go through life with self-satisfied grins perpetually plastered on their faces.

“Ah, right, right. Thing is, I’ve got stuff to do, so I’m gonna head out. Plus, I’ve gotta get up early tomorrow.” No time to put up with this bullshit.

“You fool!” it exclaimed. “I, the magnanimous and irreverent being that I am, have chipped and chipped away at my demands and am offering to spare your life! You could not hope for better terms! This kind of steal comes once in a hundred years, if at all!” I paid it no mind and started walking home.

“Argh, fine! All right! I’ll sweeten the deal only a tad more! So lend me your ear!” the cat cried as it clutched at my pant leg. The sight filled me with pity, so I decided to give it one more chance. “Food, give me food! Then I’ll let you off the hook! What outstanding generosity on my part! My compassion flows as deep as the great oceans!”

“Ughh.” This thing was starting to get on my nerves. I’d always been more of a dog person anyway—though, that little cat-eared girl was pretty cute.

“Don’t you dare ‘ughh’ me, you little ingrate! Can you not see how much I…?” It trailed off and slumped into a heap on the ground, and it looked so spent lying there that I wondered for a second if it had died. “Curses. I over…exerted myself… Can’t…go…on…”

“Ughh.” Was it faking this? Pretty convincing, either way. I thought about leaving it there but figured I’d feel kinda gross if I came upon its corpse the next day.

“So basically, you’re hungry?” I confirmed.

“I haven’t eaten my fill in well-nigh on fifteen years,” it said pathetically.

Well, I guess I’ve got enough extra food to take care of one cat.

“Want to come to my place?” I offered. “I camp out in a tent, so don’t expect anything too fancy.”

“If you insist, I shall grant you that honor.”

And so, my harvest for day two amounted to a single cat.

[3RD DAY]

Days started early in the Other Dimension. Huge, far-off bells rang in the morning. I woke up at six, bathed in the river, and changed. I got Machina to help me wash my dirty clothes, and by the time the laundry was ready to hang, a guest had arrived bearing the ingredients of our breakfast.

“Here, deep-sea critters and clams,” said Ghett, handing me the goods, aka shrimp and clams.

“Thank you very much.”

“Need a hand with anythin’?”

“No thanks, just take a seat.”

“Well, then.”

Ghett sat down in the camping chair and got to work on a disentanglement puzzle. I started preparing the food. The small shrimp I shelled, headed, and deveined. They were small, but at twenty strong, they added up to a real treat. The clams, which resembled Japanese littlenecks, I rinsed quickly in some salt water. I took a few cloves of elven garlic, or what they call the odorless variety of garlic here, removed the ends, and minced them up. Then I grabbed a few red chilis similar to cayenne peppers—maybe I’ll call them Other Dimensional cayenne peppers. No, that’s too long; red chilis it is. Anyway, I grabbed a few of those and deseeded them. Next, I massaged a bit of salt into a bunch of assorted wild herbs I’d picked from the field and set them aside.

On my way home the day before, I’d bought a clay pot. Dumping a ton of oil into it, I threw the garlic and chilis in and topped them off with a pinch of salt. To prevent anything from burning, I moved the pot away from the heat and waited for the garlic and pepper to become fragrant. Once it was just right, I added all the shrimp, clams, and herbs to the mix and set it to simmer. After I had that going, I cut a few slices of some dark rye bread I’d also picked up and toasted them on each side, then plated and placed them on my simple table. The pot had begun bubbling nicely by that point, so I put out the fire. And presto, a simple Other Dimensional Ajillo.

Everything felt legit when I added Otherworldly or Other Dimensional in front of it, but I realized after stopping by the grocer yesterday that their diet wasn’t actually that different from ours. Even Machina’s tests showed I could eat pretty much everything they had.

I let the breeze floating across the meadow cool the ajillo off for a bit. For drinks, I figured we could just have green tea, so I shook an unmeasured helping of tea leaves in cold water and let it brew. Ten minutes passed.

“Ghett, let’s dig in.”

“Right, let’s.” I handed him a spoon.

“You scoop this up, put it onto your bread, and eat it together.”

“I see.” He must really love clams, because he put nothing else on the slice of bread he brought to his mouth. “Hmm. Now, this is really something. Really something.” The clams crunched loudly in his mouth as he chewed them, shells and all. Not that I minded if that’s what he liked, but man, what a strange sound.

“Thank you for the meal,” I said, my hands together in prayer, then loaded my bread with a generous helping of shrimp, too. “D-damn, this is goood.”

It was pure bliss. The garlicky flavors stimulated the appetite, and the plump shrimp and the sour tones of the rye frolicked in my mouth. The bread itself, not to mention its beautiful texture, was delicious—simply delicious. We couldn’t have stopped ourselves if we’d wanted to. The wild herbs had a delicate bitterness that accented the dish perfectly. It could’ve used a bit more salt, but I restrained myself. An amateur like me tinkering with seasoning is destined to fail. I didn’t get a single clam.

Bread. More bread. Not enough bread. Get the bread!

And so, the two of us polished off the other loaf of bread I had bought to keep on reserve, too. By the end, we dragged chunks of it across the bottom of the pot to soak up the last bits of oil. I didn’t normally have that kind of hard, dark bread, but I ate it with fervor, perhaps in part because of its novelty.

Ow, my jaw hurts.

“Belch, I’ve never had any lander food like that before,” said Ghett. “I need to lie down.”

Crude thoughts such as, This merman looks exactly like a beached sea lion, came to mind.

“Maaan, you know, I feel kind of bad,” I said apologetically while washing the dishes.

“Hmm? Why? Was there something wrong with the food?” Ghett asked, still sprawled out on the ground.

“No, not at all. I meant for taking all that delicious seafood for free.”

“Your race sure does fixate on a peculiar kind of humility. None of my kind can work fire. If we’re fortunate, we might enjoy this kind of meal once or twice before we die. That’s worth more than enough. And not for nothing, but those were gold-piece leavings. I would’ve only chucked them if you hadn’t used them.”

“What do you mean by ‘gold-piece leavings’?” I didn’t understand the term.

“Anything I can’t trade for a full gold piece.”

“But couldn’t you get silver or copper pieces?”

“Ohhh, I’d forgotten all about those.”

Huh? You forgot how much your coins are worth? I thought, but I was wrong.

“Do you have any silver pieces on you?” he asked. I took one out of my pocket. “That thing right there is flesh-burning poison for all variant races.”

“What?!” I exclaimed, reflexively dropping the coin.

“Why are you getting all worked up? Now, how’s about I tell you a little story while I wait for my stomach to settle after that feast?”

What follows is the bloody history behind the silver coins, as told by a merman priest. It begins like all stories…

Long ago, soon after the curtains drew to a close on the age of the gods and people took over authorship of history, there lived a king who ruled over all the beastfolk. His name was Rha Guzüri Duin Olossal, king of the beasts.

Throughout every age, man and beast have always stood in opposition to each other, the only variable in this constant battle being who held the higher ground. In this age, the beasts had pushed humans to the edge of utter ruin. They had lost ground in every corner of the Great Land save for their stronghold in the northernmost reaches of the Left Continent. Even that was no more than a silver mine treasured by the dwarves. It was here that the last king of men raised his prayers to the gods.

“O gods on high, I beseech thee, grant us the power to vanquish these bloodthirsty beasts,” he pleaded. One thousand days he prayed. One hundred elves offered their lives as sacrifice. Finally, on the thousandth day, a god answered their call.

“Very well, King of Man. Fill your chalice with the blood of said beasts and drain it, thereby becoming a beast yourself. Do this, and I shall grant you my aid.”

The king agonized over the choice presented to him but in the end did as he was told. In return, the god worked a miracle—a spirit of calamity took root in the silver of the mine. Thus, the king commanded it:

“O mighty silver, I bid thee work thine evil on every race save for those of man! Loathe them, burn them, kill them—kill them! Scorch all vile beasts with abominable bodies such as mine own in a world-destroying conflagration and incinerate them to naught but ash!”

Thus consecrated, the silver bent itself to the king’s will. Dwarves took the silver and beat it into a slew of weapons. Rows and rows of silver spears, swords, and arrows before him, the disgraced king spoke his final words: “Come, my children. It is time to begin.” On that day, a new line of beast-hunting kings was born.

And so, the forces of man beat the beasts back to near complete annihilation, took mercy on them, stayed their assault, and settled upon coexistence. As a symbol of peace, the silver weapons with which they had hunted beasts were melted down into coins and dispersed throughout the world. However, should the beasts bare their fangs at man once more, those silver pieces would again take shape as swords and spears and arrows that promised to decimate them once and for all.

As for the god who bestowed such a blessing upon the races of man, no one can say who it was.

“……” A million thoughts ran through my mind, but it was not my place as an outsider to throw in a flippant comment. The silver piece I picked back up had a monster on it. I couldn’t tell if it was the king from the tale or the king of beasts.

“We merfolk did give the beastfolk passage across the oceans, but we never killed any people,” explained Ghett. “And still we got lumped into the curse all the same.”

“That’s— Sorry.”

“Why should you need to apologize?”

“You’re exactly right.”

“Oh, and the copper pieces, they’re just no good. They rust in no time and pollute the water.”

Huh, a superstition about poisonous copper went around in Japan for a while, too.

“Actually, Ghett, I’d like to ask you something if I may.”

“No need to be so formal. What?” I didn’t expect I’d be much help, but I was grateful to have formed this bond, so I wanted to ask in case, by any small chance, I could do something.

“Why do you need money?” The day before, Ghett had mentioned that merfolk could find everything they required to survive in the great abundance of the oceans. They didn’t need to bother with those on land, and they had no reason to interact with people.

“I’ve got five granddaughters, see,” Ghett started. “The youngest of them came upon a storm-wrecked ship and saved a man’s life. She spoke of nothing else after she delivered him to the shore, almost as if in the throes of some delirious fever. Then one day, she just, poof, disappeared—after stealing one of our most prized possessions. This treasure, called Ghu Baurî, will allow you to transform into any shape you wish at the cost of whatever is most precious to you. There’s no doubt in my mind my granddaughter went after that man.”

So basically, she pulled a Little Mermaid.

“The rest of our family came out against it, but as long as that’s what she wanted, I figured it would all work out,” he continued. “Or so I thought. One day, I got called out for a potential deal through the grapevine. The sellers, the Ellomere Western Peng Traders. The item, one female mermaid. The price: four thousand gold pieces.”

Looked like this Little Mermaid didn’t turn into sea-foam but instead got put on sale by a trading group. It took one copper coin to buy a loaf of bread in this world. I couldn’t even imagine what you’d have to do to earn four thousand gold pieces.

“Forget it. I’m not fishing for pity in telling you this. I merely answered your question.”

“Right, of course.” Just then—

“Mm! What is that scrumptious smell?!” A gray creature came walking out of the tent. The freeloader stretched and opened its mouth into a cavernous yawn. It was seriously nasty. I almost wanted to dunk it in the river water.

“Good morning, Lady Mythlanica.” I wasn’t totally sold on addressing a cat so formally, but she would throw a tantrum whenever I tried without the title, so I had no other choice.

“Souya, prepare my breakfast.”

“Okay, okay.” I blanched the Other Dimensional fish I’d left out drying overnight to remove some of the salt, wiped off the moisture, removed the skewer, and plated it.

“And what exactly is this?”

“What do you mean, ‘what?’ It’s fish.”

“This is unbelievable!” she protested. “I can smell you two had something much better, didn’t you?! DIDN’T YOUUU?! How dare you put this mere guppy before me?! The insolence! Raise your sword at once!” The cat flopped on the ground, belly up, and flailed her legs like a child.

“All right, fine. Then don’t eat it.” I’d just give it to the winged bunnies flying around the meadow. They looked all the cuter since they never opened their traps to talk.

“Wait.” The cat placed her front paw on the hand I’d wound up to throw the dish. “I never said I wouldn’t eat it.”

“I see.” For someone who’d just railed against the fish, she sure gobbled it up with surprising relish. Ghett watched the cat, an inscrutable look on his face.

“Souya, what might that be?” he asked.

“It’s a cat,” I explained. “Do you have a different word for them here?”

“No, just cat. But to think it speaks, it must be a rather impressive…… No, couldn’t be. I’ve spoken and eaten more than my fill today. I’ll take my leave.” As he turned to go, Ghett mused, “Mythlanica? Now…… Hmm, I’m sure I’ve heard that name before, but my stomach is too full for my brain to function.” He dived in the river and disappeared beneath the water a little slower than usual.

“I could have used some more, but I’m satisfied,” Lady Mythlanica informed me.

“Glad to hear it.”

Satisfied in spite of all her protestations, she licked the edges of her mouth clean with her tongue and announced, “I’m going to sleep. You may wake me once lunch is prepared. Next time, you’d do well to serve me meat other than fish.” With that, she went back into the tent.

Is this dumb cat seriously not gonna do anything but eat and sleep? I know that’s what they do, but it just doesn’t sit right.

It would have been fine if she were a helpless little kitty that never said more than “Meow, meow.” Taking care of creatures more pitiful than yourself provides comfort in times of crisis. But she could talk like nobody’s business, she was cheeky as hell, and she wasn’t even cute as a cat. Plus, she was filthy!

“Mr. Souya, isn’t she an adorable little kitty? I just looove cats!”

“Uh, sure.”

A happy face flashed across Machina’s screen, and she spoke in a cheerful voice. For what it’s worth, I had ordered her not to speak in front of the locals.

I guess pieces of junk have a soft spot for the useless. Maybe it’s a kind of sympathy? Yeah, must be. Well, isn’t that just perfect.

We turned to the day’s god-hunting session, morning edition. In short, it was complete defeat.

“This is pretty much what I had expected,” Evetta said, her face determined. I’m begging you, let there be a but that comes after that, I thought. “However, I have a good idea.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but it can wait until after lunch.” We wound up going back to the bar where my devotion had been turned down the day before. Lunch was on me, as promised.

“Oh-ho, if it isn’t the would-be adventurer with no dreams and a retired veteran. What can I do for you today?” asked the owner of the place.

“Boss, I’ll have three orders each of salt-grilled dungeon pork, an extra-large wild greens sauté, a rock-eating turtle soup, and a deluxe fluffy honey bread. I’m on the clock, so I won’t need any ale; just give me a milk,” Evetta rattled off.

“You got it!” answered the barkeep.

That’s a pretty heavy order. Will we finish it all? Maybe we can take it to go?

“Evetta, I actually ate a pretty big breakfast.”