Dungeon Reform Plan*1
"W–wait, let me sort this out. So basically, Asuma-sama’s dungeon isn’t just inside that cave, but also includes the area outside—the spot where the villagers are now, the cage where the ex-adventurers are locked up—that all counts as ‘inside the dungeon,’ right?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“And Asuma-sama, you can sense what happens in all of that, even without being physically there… is that what you mean?”
“Mm-hm. Roughly speaking. The fine details are still easier to grasp if I actually go and see or touch it, though.”
I explained to Mishisia and Edele that “actually, a dungeon works like this.” Both of them looked pretty stunned.
So that’s how it is. Turns out, among people in general, the exact “range of a dungeon” isn’t very well known. Everyone can recognize that “the cave” is the dungeon, but hardly anyone imagines the forest around the cave counts too.
… And well, from my side, since the villagers have been spending so much time working in the open space in front of the cave, for some reason I’ve been drawing in a little mana from that activity. Makes me feel kinda guilty, like I was tricking them somehow. Anyway—thank you very much.
“In that case, we really should set up a checkpoint. We can declare the real entrance of the dungeon to be ‘the village gate,’ and whenever someone shows up, Asuma-sama would sense them before they step inside and could deal with it right away.”
Oh man, that’d be a lifesaver.
I still need more testing, but as far as I can tell so far, it’s like this: ‘If there’s a hostile intruder inside the dungeon, then I can’t use Dissolve-Absorb-Reconstruct.’
So if the villagers could buy me time outside, I’d be super grateful. That’d give me a chance to set things up properly!
“On top of that, we should probably put another checkpoint right at the cave entrance, you know? Somewhere to regulate entry into the dungeon itself! Lots of guild-managed dungeons already do something like that.”
“Oh, they do?”
“Yup. See, the guild wants to buy up treasure or monster materials found inside, and they want to confirm adventurers’ safety too. So they make people register when entering and exiting, and at the same time handle any buy-outs.”
Huh. So there really are dungeons out there that have blended into human society… Or maybe it’s more that they were forced to blend in. Hard to say.
“Well then, what if we went all the way with it? Invite people into the dungeon openly, turn it into a proper source of income for Panis Village?”
“Eh… A-Asuma-sama? Would that really be all right?”
“Sure. As long as no one reaches the very end, it’s fine. Like before, we just concentrate all the traps and defenses right before the final area, and let people come and go in the rest. Honestly, the more traffic we get, the more it’ll filter out troublemakers anyway.”
Come to think of it, isn’t that how other dungeons operate?
From what I’ve gathered, dungeons draw in mana when people come inside and act around. So most dungeons probably build a cycle where “lots of people come and explore, but don’t reach the end, and still leave satisfied.” That’s likely why treasure gets placed around, right?
… Still, some things are weird. Even when I’m absorbing stuff, certain things produce way more mana than others. I’d like to run tests someday to pin down the exact conditions.
Anyway, back to the point.
“So if we invite people into the dungeon and send them back out safely, then all we really need is a winding maze and some ‘treasures’—especially a fake World Tree—for them to find.”
And so.
With Mishisia and Edele, I hammered out a dungeon renovation plan.
“Ahh, it’d be a huge help, but… is it really okay? Letting us profit off your dungeon, Asuma-sama…?”
“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m just happy everyone’s here. Let’s make it a give-and-take relationship.”
“Thank you, Asuma-sama! That’s our kind little godlet!”
Edele looked a bit hesitant, but Mishisia jumped right aboard, even giving me a squeeze. I’m starting to get used to that.
“Really, thank you, Asuma-sama. The whole village will help however we can. If there’s anything, just say the word.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Edele!”
All right. This’ll be my style.
Coexisting with the people of Panis, watching over each other, protecting each other—that’s how I’ll manage from here.
“Once we hand those guys over to the guild, word that there’s a dungeon here will leak out. So people will come. In that case, restricting entry at the village and charging an entrance fee could become a solid revenue source.”
Makes sense. And if it benefits Panis, I don’t mind them using the dungeon. After all, they’ll be protecting it in return.
“Then let’s keep it a secret that Asuma-sama is the dungeon’s god!”
“Yes. We’ll have to make sure the villagers understand that too…”
… Right. I’ll be in your care! Looking forward to working together!
“… Now, as for defense, what do we do?”
Yeah. That’s where we ended up again.
Sharing the dungeon with the village is fine. Bringing people in is fine. But in the end, we still have the problem of: “So what do we do when someone actually makes it all the way to the deepest part?”
I can’t spawn monsters. With just Mishisia alone, defense is a bit shaky. We’d really want at least one more person to back her up.
“… Well, we could always ask the guild to hire adventurers. But usually that’d be on a day-to-day basis. For a long-term contract, it’s uncertain if anyone would accept…”
“Ah, so mercenaries, huh…”
Makes sense. If you want instant combat power, you hire mercs.
But still—asking someone to guard the dungeon’s deepest reaches is practically entrusting them with its heart. Which means we need someone trustworthy and tight-lipped. That rules out day labor. But long-term contracts are hard to secure… hmm.
“There are plenty of mercs left jobless after the war, so hopefully we can find someone decent. But the good ones have already landed work. The ones left unemployed usually turn into adventurer dropouts…”
Mishisia’s words made perfect sense.
Adventurer dropouts—like the guys we’ve got in cages right now—must be all over the place. And hiring that sort of crowd is a no-go.
… Or is it?
Wait. I know one. Someone who’s a dropout, sure, but at least seems like a decent person at heart.
… Their “skill” is another matter, but still.
“Um, Mishisia-san…”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
I decided to check with her about what popped into my head.
“With the World Tree growing, the dungeon’s mana has gone up, right? The dungeon’s herbs should have gotten stronger too?”
“Yeah, I think so. Next time I brew potions, they might be way more powerful!”
She smiled brightly at that, and I thought, “all right, that’s good news.”
“… Then, do you think… maybe the new potion could heal old, serious injuries? Like say, a lost arm…”
That might be pushing it. But hey—this is a fantasy world, where logic sometimes takes a backseat to miracle power. Worth hoping for, at least.
What do you think about this chapter?
