Three days later...
This was the last one. I had been working pretty much non-stop for three
days. While some of the time had been spent chatting, pretty much every other
moment went into work. When the overnight shifts finally came to a close, I
naturally started to recall the events that had occurred up until now...
"This one is done too. Let's move on to the next."
"Wait up. How many straight hours have you been working for?"
"The sun has already set, nya."
"You have cleaned two of the pits with this. How about a little break?"
"My physical and magical energy are still good enough to keep going. And this
needs to be done as quickly as possible."
"...You better not be pushing yourself."
"It does not appear so to me either, but..."
"I agree, nya. Which means there isn't a reason to stop you, and we certainly
do need to hurry..."
When I finished cleaning the second pit on the first day, Jeff and the other
two adventurers agreed that I could move on to the next cesspit. The next time
I came out, the guards had changed their shifts.
"Oh, he's out."
"You're Miya's friends..."
"It's Welanna."
"Mizelia."
"I'm Cilia. We're in charge of the shift from night to morning. Pleased to be
working with you, Ryoma."
"Same here. Well to cut straight to the chase, this one is done. Please confirm
it. Also, I heard that you would be bringing magic replenishing potions as
supplies..."
"I have them here."
The medicine of this world could be generalized into two categories:
medicines that used the natural effects of herbs and treatments just like on
Earth, and magic medicines that used ingredients with magic energy or
magically activated properties. Potions were one type of magic medicine with
immediate effects. The rabbit-eared Cilia went about appraising while the tigereared Mizelia took out a test tube shaped glass container. It was filled with a
watery, deep green liquid. Each tube that Mizelia had was able to recover
approximately 2,000 magic energy. Considering my total magic energy and how
overconsumption could lead to the detrimental state of a 'magic hangover,' I
confirmed my own status and drank 10 potions.
"Thank you, I can move onto the next one with this."
"Already? You should rest a little."
"You didn't take a single break while Miya and the others were on guard
either, right? How about some food? Here."
With those words, Welanna handed me a picnic basket with sandwiches.
"The butler of the client entrusted us with these. How about you eat before
moving on to the next?"
"Butler? Was that Sebas, by any chance?"
"That's how he introduced himself. You know him, right? He said you might
forget to eat if you get too into your work, then he left because he had other
work, but he was waiting up until just a little while ago."
I was fine for physical energy, but I had forgotten to eat so I accepted
gratefully. With that, the amount of time I spent interacting with the girls
increased too.
"Did the information I sent about the disease arrive?"
"The guildmaster said he'd be able to secure enough for us by tomorrow
through one of his acquaintances. But you were seriously intending on working
through the night, huh?"
"I fully intend on taking breaks too, of course."
"Not enough of them, though. You can rest after each cesspit, at least."
"She's right. To be honest, I had my doubts about whether you were pushing
yourself too hard."
"I have confidence in my stamina. But Cilia's doubts are most reasonable,
considering my age."
"It's common to hear about new adventurers taking on jobs beyond their skill
level to show off, then failing."
"I feel the same. If Ryoma hadn't displayed those skills on a status board, I
would have definitely objected. Entrusting a job with the whole town's safety
on the line based on the statement of a newly registered and inexperienced
adventurer? Absolutely not. ...But now I think you're the best option."
"No, I'm sure that would be the most rational response. Don't worry about
it."
Mizelia had looked a little awkward as she admitted her words, but I never
expected to be trusted by people I only just met to begin with. Without the
convenient tool of the status board, I really did look just like a regular child.
Since I was actually a child, right now.
We finished eating like that, and I returned to cleaning.
The next time I took a break was when the sun was rising and the guards for
the next shift arrived.
"Good work today. We've come to relieve you."
"Thanks for coming, Sher, Leipin, Gordon."
"Thank you, Cilia."
"How's the work coming along?"
"It's going faster than we expected, how's Ryoma holding up?"
"He's working hard. There doesn't seem to be an issue with his stamina. But
the work's on hold for the moment."
"Is there a problem?"
"It would be faster just to show you..."
"Why-whoa!"
"What in the world... There are so many slimes, I can't even see the floor."
"I heard he used slimes, but did he cause a stampede?"
"Stampede? Ryoma called it splitting, though."
"Splitting? With this many?"
I was making the slimes split again to increase efficiency when the next shift
arrived.
"Are you the people on the next guard? Nice to meet you, I'm Ryoma
Takebayashi. Sorry about the mess. The slimes began splitting themselves.
Work efficiency will increase after this, so please be careful not to step on
them."
"Right... I'm Gordon. It's nice to meet you."
"I'm Sher."
A short but bulky body and limbs. Half his face was hidden behind a thick
beard. That was the impression I got from the dwarf, Gordon. The human who
introduced himself as Sher looked at the slimes with interest. He looked to be
around middle school or high school age. The last person was... a middle-aged
man with glasses and a staff. He was staring intently at the slimes.
"Hmm... they don't appear to be weakened, so I guess it isn't a stampede...
Oh? Why, pardon me. My name is Leipin. An adventurer researching monsters.
If you don't mind me asking, this isn't a stampede, right?"
"I'm Ryoma Takebayashi. I also research slimes as a hobby. Sorry to answer
with a question, but what is a stampede?"
"It refers to the sudden division of slimes. It occurs when slimes are in a
position to divide, but their tamer continuously blocks them from doing so until
they reach their limit and divide against orders. This is said to be an instinctive
reaction to having their reproduction means stopped. Once a stampede begins,
they explode dramatically in numbers, but the original body and divided body
are both weakened and begin eating everything around them to regain
nutrients."
"I didn't know slimes did such a thing."
"Wild slimes divide freely, so it doesn't happen naturally. But there was a case
of research materials being destroyed this way, and the laboratory was shunned
for it. I have never witnessed it with my own eyes."
"You just assumed so based on this large number?"
"Indeed."
He was interested to hear that there were over 1,000 slimes to begin with and
that they combined into big slimes and more, so I talked to him about slime and
monster research while making contracts with the new slimes, magic energy
potion in one hand. As a result, by the time I finished all the contracts, Sher and
Gordon were completely lost.
...And so I continued with the endless cleaning task, interrupted once a day by
Sebas bringing food. He even waited in front of the door on some days. The
picnic basket had a letter from Eliaria, telling me not to worry about the slimes I
left at the inn, as she was taking care of them well. Supported not only by the 9
guards, but everyone else as well, I continued to clean.
The scavenger slimes split once more, now totaling 3033 slimes. I had 1011 of
them each form a king scavenger slime and line up in a row, reducing the
workload significantly. Their skill levels had also gone up.
King Scavenger Slime x3
Skills: Disease Resistance 7, Poison Resistance 7, Foul Feeder 8, Cleanse 8,
Deodorize 8, Deodorant Solution 6, Stench Release 8, Nutrient Reduction 7,
Physical Attack Resistance 4, Maximize 5, Minimize 6, Jump 3, Gluttony 4
Disease resistance did not increase further. I guess that meant 7 was enough
to deal with the Idake virus. Instead... or rather, for some reason, gluttony and
physical attack resistance went up. Was it because they were constantly
bumping into the walls? Or was it when they bumped into the slimes beside
them? I didn't know why, but having higher levels wasn't a problem.
I followed behind the slimes while disinfecting the walls with Mist Wash and
Squall until the end was right around the corner.
We arrived at the final cesspit. After the slimes finished disposing of
everything, I sprayed water everywhere and heated it, then used Appraisal to
confirm that the virus was gone... All good. With this, the repetitive work up
until today was over.
I took the slimes and headed outside, occasionally making random appraisal
checks. Waiting for me was the morning shift: Gordon, Sher, and Leipin.
"Is it over, then?"
"Yes, everything's done."
"Good work! It's all over now. You did well seeing it through to the end."
"You really pulled it off without any rest."
"The only times you really rested were for food."
"That might be true. Ah, please do a final check, Leipin."
"On it. ...All right, no problems here. Your clothes, belongings, and the
surroundings are all clear. Time to return to the guild for a report."
"Thank you. Then, let us go."
"Hold it. I'll take us there. Warp."
He sent us right outside of the guild with the mid-range teleportation space
spell, Warp. For someone who seemed quiet and proud, he was a considerate
person.
We entered the guild and the receptionist immediately let us through to the
guildmaster's office.
"Ryoma? Are you done?"
"Yes, 30 cesspits in the communal toilets. Every single one has been dealt
with accordingly. Everything should be fine now."
"I see! That's great... Okay! Everyone go home and rest for today! I'll contact
the others and inform them that it's done. Come to the guild tomorrow
afternoon for your reward. Since you pretty much did everything this time, you
can look forward to it."
"I understand. Then, if you would excuse me... Oh, that's right. Guildmaster."
"What is it?"
"Were there any reports of infection? I barely received any information on
the town while I was inside."
"It's all good. I asked for an old granny who specializes in medicines and stuff
for her help, but there have been no reports of the Idake virus yet. ...That Idake
virus shows up within 10 hours of entering a body, right?"
"Yes, that was what the appraisal of the filth said."
"Then it should be fine. The preparations of the medicine you told us about
have been underway, and we've prepared a number of doses already. If anyone
infected shows up, it should be treatable. That's why you should hurry home
and rest. You haven't slept at all, right? If an infection arises, I'll inform you;
you'll be no use if you're staggering on your feet."
"...You're right. I shall go now."
After saying that, I left the Adventurers' Guild behind me. Once I bid farewell
to the other three, there was no one left to talk to. I headed towards the inn as
a chilly breeze blew around me, making me feel that somewhat nostalgic sense
of loneliness after an all-nighter.
The wind was refreshing after such a long shift, and when I wandered back to
the inn the entire ducal house greeted me.
"You're back! Ryoma!"
"Welcome back, Ryoma."
"Welcome back."
"Looks like you've returned safe and sound. Good, good."
"Welcome back, Master Ryoma."
"Let me take those for you."
"Have you eaten yet?"
Seven people welcomed me.
This was... somehow nostalgic... Come to think of it, how long has it been? For
people to welcome me home like this... Was it since mom died? No, Eliaria and
the others have done this many times already, so why was this feeling
happening now...?
"What's the matter, Ryoma? Are you hurt anywhere?"
"No... my body isn't in a bad state, it's just... I suddenly remembered my
past... with my family..."
Family? That's right... These people gave a similar feeling.
Memories from my past life flashed before my eyes. In the oldest memory I
possessed, I could already form a fist. The house back then was inherited from
my grandparents, with a small but splendid training room. There, I was taught
martial arts from a very young age. Father instructed me. From before I had
even started school. I probably spent more time there than anywhere else in
my childhood. And my father was probably the one I interacted with most.
My father made a living as a swordsmith, highly praised as a living national
treasure in his youth. Despite his young age, any sword he smithed would be
bought by zealous fans at a high price. That's why I have memories of adults
often visiting our home with swordsmithing requests. But Father accepted
those requests very rarely. There was a limit to the number of swords that
could be smithed in a year, and young smiths could barely make a living
smithing as much as possible.
However, Father would only smith as many as he needed to feed his family —
as well as the minimum to keep work relationships happy — and put the rest of
his time into instructing me. All the adults that came over would tell me "You're
so loved," and at the time I was young and happy to hear it.
...Alas, that changed as I grew older. With my enrollment into elementary
school, I started interacting with more people and widening my world. That led
to many changes, such as making friends and studying together.
But where people gather, arguments occur. This happened one day in the
early years:
I wasn't the most social of people back then, and pretty much never went to
play with my friends after school or anything because I had training. I stood out
among the class, so I wasn't very well-liked. I don't remember what started it,
but I had been pinned against the wall by five boys. They pressured me for a
while, but I showed no fear and argued back several times. But they didn't listen
to me. All that came back were even harsher words from the five of them. Since
they outnumbered me, they refused to listen and grew angrier the more I
argued back.
Eventually, one of them raised their fist. However, having received my
father's training, I evaded the punch without thinking. This was the moment
that changed everything. I was backed against the wall, and the fist was aiming
for my face from straight-on. In other words, the wall was waiting after I
evaded. Momentum drove the boy's fist to collide into the wall, making him
scream. The other boys were surprised at his pain. A worried boy took his
friend's hand, making him scream louder, resulting in tears as he brushed them
away. As children, they couldn't do anything and eventually went to the nurse's
office, where it was discovered to be a fracture.
Our homeroom teacher was immediately informed, and everyone except the
injured boy was summoned.
"How did this happen?"
Naturally, we were questioned for the reason, and I responded with what
should have been the truth. Friction with my surroundings aside, I wasn't at
fault for the injury. But the teacher ultimately determined that I acted violently,
pushing the other boy over and stomping on his hand. Because the other four
boys testified that that was what had happened. My desperate denials couldn't
win against the majority. The fact I had been pinned against the wall was taken
as a light joke between kids, and my parents were summoned for the severity of
the injury caused.
Then, after school. The one who appeared was my father, although Mom had
been the first one to respond to their call. The teacher was also surprised to see
my father, who greeted her while continuously bowing his head. Immediately
after that, I was punched.
Once, twice, thrice. The hard fist landed on my face. When I covered my face
with my arms, my stomach was hit instead. The unreasonable attacks continued
until my teacher returned to her senses and intervened, and my father kept
bowing his head as soon as he stopped.
"I heard that my son has acted violently to another child. I am very sorry for
his actions."
He suddenly switched from violence to a sincere apology. I believe the
teacher was confused by my father's sudden change of attitude. A silence
flowed between us, which is when I thought, That was wrong, I wasn't the one
who acted violently. But the moment I tried to say that, my father's fist came
flying once again. Along with an order to stop making excuses and reflect on my
actions. Everything after that proceeded quickly.
"Fortunately, the bone was only fractured slightly and will be able to heal
without any long-lasting effects... As long as you teach him that violence isn't
the answer, this should be settled."
After the exchange that felt like time had rewound, my father and I were
dismissed by the teacher. The teacher who said violence isn't the answer had
accepted the violence that just happened as education. Perhaps it was because
my father was an elite craftsman, but the teacher seemed to think that a stern
hand was the respectful way to go about things.
But on the way home, my youthful heart couldn't accept the result so easily.
And after distancing myself a little while walking, I let out a complaint. That I
wasn't the one who injured him. My father came to a stop where he walked
before me. I braced myself to be punched again, but...
"I don't care about that. I just didn't want to waste any more time over
useless matters."
What came flying instead wasn't a fist, but apathetic words. Don't care?
Useless matters? Rather than relief at not being hit, I felt more confused. I could
understand the words, which made me more confused than otherwise. As I
stood frozen, my father took a look at me.
"Come back before your practice time. I want to work on a sword, so I'm
going back first."
Leaving only those words, I watched my father's back as he walked away. And
on that day, I doubted his love for the first time. I was at the age for my
rebellious period, but as I learned more martial arts from my father, he started
spending most of his time on swordsmithing instead. It was as though his
apathetic attitude had risen to the surface, having fulfilled his duty. At the same
time, I began to see the sides of my father he could no longer fool me with,
which made me distance myself from him.
It's hard to say whether my father noticed that. Perhaps he did, but didn't
care...
The one who connected the growing gap between me and my father was
Mom. Whenever something happened, my father would stand in the firing line
first, as Mom wasn't the type of person to act for herself publicly. Instead, she
supported us from the shadows. That was the kind of person she was. There
weren't any particularly memorable moments, but she was always beside me
when I was in pain or trouble.
By the time I got into middle school, my father reduced the amount of direct
instruction I received and immersed himself into swordsmithing. Swordsmithing
wasn't meant to be a task for a single person. Other than the swordsmith that
forged the blade, there was the sheath craftsman and blade polisher that
usually worked in concert — but my father did that himself. He used to attend
craftsman classes to study, but began doing it for real now. Practicing the forms
and training alone became my daily life, and the only time I was certain to see
my father's face was at breakfast.
It was Mom who strongly insisted on breakfast. She tried to connect the two
of us when we barely spoke to each other. Those days continued until I
approached my middle school graduation.
Father gradually pushed Mom away, until he stopped coming to breakfast...
And then finished his newest blade. In front of the blade he had painstakingly
polished, my father had collapsed with a triumphantly pleased expression.
The cause of his death was a heart attack. He didn't have any chronic illnesses
— like with all humans, it was just his time to bow out.
After that, our lives changed. While my father had a high income, he was
careless with money and spent it frivolously on his studies. As a result, he barely
had any savings, and it was difficult for a middle schooler like me to find work.
Naturally, it was decided that Mom would start working and sell the house.
Housework became the norm, along with my training. As well as part-time work
from the moment I entered high school to graduation. Mom would also work
until late, coming home every day with a tired face. We would only see each
other in the short time before bed. At night, we'd talk about the things that
happened during the day... but Mom never complained about our life at all.
Looking back on it now, it wasn't an easy life, but we were fairly happy.
Then I entered university. We were struggling financially at the time, but
Mom was adamantly against me working after high school. At the end of our
discussions, I folded to her will. Fortunately, my options for part-time work had
widened since high school, and my income increased if I took on jobs with some
danger, like high-altitude work. Thus, I somehow managed to graduate and find
employment... which was all good and all, until I had to leave that company less
than a year later.
I don't know whether I could say it was beyond my control, but I definitely
would have been causing inconvenience by remaining at the company. So I
bowed my head to my superior and resigned. But resigning in less than a year
was highly frowned upon in society. Every company pointed that out and asked
for the resignation reason, ultimately resulting in rejections.
As I was lost, searching for employment, the one who had mentally and
financially supported me — friendless from doing nothing but work and training
— was Mom. Eventually, the company I finally got into was what could be
described in modern terms as an exploitative employer. While my work hours
became unstable, my life had settled for the moment. Now Mom could relax a
little.
Just as I began to think that way, Mom passed away. It had been death from
overwork. The funeral was held quietly, with just myself and Mom's coworkers.
After it was all over, I was alone. I don't think I felt any sadness. If anything, the
sense of loss was greater.
The next day, I had work. Work piled up without mercy. I submerged myself in
that work. Before I knew it, that became the norm. Things lost would never
return. New connections weren't to be gained, either. They were just things I
could no longer obtain.
...Yet the things I had given up on were right in front of me now.
"Ryoma?! What's the matter?!"
Eliaria's voice reached me. It seemed like I had been crying. The tears had
leaked out without my knowledge, dripping from my chin.
"...Sorry, I'm fine. I was just remembering my family. Everyone here gave off a
similar feeling... though your faces aren't the same."
My mother wasn't particularly ugly, but she wasn't pretty, either. Vastly
different from this collection of good looking men, women, and girls.
"Oh my."
"You should come inside first. It's about time you got some rest."
While I was thinking such ridiculous things, Elise hugged me and Eliaria tugged
my arm.
"Why don't you have a seat?"
Reinhart directed me into a chair with his hand on my shoulder.
"You haven't eaten dinner yet, right?"
"We'll prepare it right away. Do you have any requests?"
Reinbach patted my head as Sebas and the two maids watched me with warm
eyes.
"Here's some herb tea. It'll help you relax."
"Shall I make your meal something light?"
"Let's see... if it isn't too much trouble, a sandwich would be nice."
"Understood."
They seemed to understand that I was a little embarrassed by my tears, as no
one mentioned it. Instead, everyone tried to look after me in the smallest of
ways. Refilling my teacup every time it emptied, allowing the night wind into
the room as soon as I found it a little hot...
Elise and Eliaria were particularly enthusiastic about catering to my needs.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Lilian on standby while focused on the
actions of the two, having had her role taken from her. Should she interfere to
fulfill her duty, or should she respect their wishes? She must have felt rather
conflicted over that. She seemed a little restless.
Like this, my tired body was tended to as I answered some reserved
questions, when eventually a familiar sandwich arrived in my hands.
"Thank you."
The flavor of fresh vegetables and bacon spread through my mouth. The exact
same flavor as what was delivered while I was working. I had grown so familiar
to this taste, it made me feel at peace.
"That was delicious."
In no time at all, I had cleared the plate.
"Master Ryoma, the bath is ready for you. Feel free to have a soak."
I went to take a bath as suggested, and the next time I stepped out they all
saw me to my room.
"Once again, thank you for your hard work today."
"While we'd love to chat with you more, you should rest for today."
"You may have pulled those all-nighters, but you still need your sleep."
"If there's anything you want to talk about, bring it up tomorrow. We'll be
close by."
My head didn't seem to be working properly, perhaps because it was my first
all-nighter in years... but it wasn't a bad feeling.
I burrowed under the blankets and raised my hand to wave. Everyone quietly
left the room. I was left alone. But the warmth from the people who welcomed
me home today remained right beside me.
As my consciousness faded away, a belated sense of accomplishment over
having finished the job rose. Filled with a satisfaction that was difficult to put
into words, I entrusted my body to the comfort of sleep