Tomatoes and Elf*1
A lump like a mass of watery jelly, with tomatoes sprouting from its head, was squishily crawling around.
… What even is this? Is this what people mean when they say “slime”? I see. So this is a slime. Yeah, it kind of fits.
But the real question is—what the hell am I supposed to do in front of this bizarre sight?
“… Wait, it’s coming this way?”
Sure enough, the presumed slime started heading toward me, squish, squish. Whenever I moved a little, it followed, like it was homing in on me.
No, no, wait. Don’t come closer! I don’t know what to do if you do! Ugh, this must be how the pigeons felt when I used to chase them around campus! Sorry, pigeons! But honestly, I’ll probably do it again, so bear with me!
“… Huh? Don’t tell me… it thinks I’m its parent or something?”
The slime with tomatoes sprouting from its head stopped at my feet and gave a little wobble, its body quivering with a *boyoyong*.
… Hmm. At the very least, it doesn’t *seem* like it intends to harm me. Not that I know whether a slime even has intentions.
“Well… I am interested in these tomatoes…”
Yeah, I was very interested. After all, these tomatoes had apparently grown from seed to fruit overnight, pedal to the metal all the way.
“They’re definitely tomatoes, huh.”
So I immediately plucked one of the red fruits dangling from the slime’s tomato-laden branches. A tomato.
… Eating it straight was a little scary, so I decomposed and absorbed it first. Handy way to identify things.
“Yep, it’s a tomato.”
The data I got from decomposition confirmed it: an ordinary tomato.
Which meant—time to eat it. Breakfast!
“… Yep. Totally a tomato.”
It tasted very good. A shame it wasn’t chilled, but otherwise, it was a delicious tomato.
Meanwhile, the slime kept occasionally squishing around, its tomato branches swaying, leaves rustling. Just what is this thing?
Well… considering I’d ended up planting tomatoes in a mysterious slime, I guess part of this mess was my fault.
Most likely, that jelly-ball-like thing I’d found in the pot—that had been this slime. Meaning, I had literally planted a tomato in this creature’s head. Whoops. Sorry about that.
… Though honestly, the slime didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. And besides, it was growing tomatoes at ridiculous speed, so…
“… Yeah. Next time I see one of these things, I’m planting seeds in it for sure.”
Having harvested all the tomatoes from the slime’s head, I made that vow in my heart.
Any slime that comes my way, I’ll plant tomatoes in it. Count on it!
And so, I watered the tomatoes again today.
I’d figured out that slime-planted tomatoes grew at absurd speed, but otherwise… the indoor ones grew faster than the outdoor ones.
As for the soil—between the restructured soil and the soil I’d hauled manually with a shovel, there wasn’t much difference. Maybe the restructured soil was slightly better, but that could just be because decomposing and absorbing it removed pebbles and dead roots.
Still, the difference between indoor and outdoor growth rates was strange.
“Hmmm… could it be that the glittering light here is better for them than sunlight?”
Unless I’d actually slept for an entire week straight, the tomatoes were definitely growing way too fast. Indoors and outdoors both. The slime was in a league of its own.
“… Tomatoes growing faster deeper in a dungeon, huh. Well… yeah. It is a dungeon, after all… No matter. I don’t get it.”
No point overthinking it. The logic behind this is pure fantasy. No way I’ll understand it.
All I can do is gather results. Collect data, deduce patterns from the results, then act efficiently based on that. That’s all I can do.
“Well… as for tomatoes, next time another slime shows up, I’ll definitely catch it and plant something in it… Oh? You want water too? Huh, really…?”
Sure enough, the slime squishily approached my feet. I gave it some water from a watering can. The slime quivered with a *boyoyong*.
… Wait. Was that… happiness? Huh. Kind of cute, actually.
“Want some fertilizer too? Maybe that’s overfeeding? But considering how fast you’re growing these, you’ll need nutrients, right…”
Since it was cute, I gave the slime some extra fertilizer as well. Since the branches and leaves were already fully developed, I didn’t need much nitrogen or potassium—better to give it phosphorus.
Then I went back indoors and watered the indoor crops. I gave about half of them some diluted fertilizer too. Not as crazy-fast as the slime, but still rapid growth, so better safe than sorry.
… Once I finished all that, I took a break. Ate some bread made from restructured plant roots, and then…
“Alright. Time to head for the ceiling.”
Now that I had some breathing room, I decided to do something I’d been meaning to do.
That was—to investigate the crack in the ceiling.
I needed to find out whether it connected to the world I came from.
First, I gathered materials. I created branch tunnels throughout the cave, with small rooms at their ends, decomposing rock as I went. In the process, I found a deposit rich in magnetite—so, lots of iron. Jackpot.
After collecting enough stone for several small chambers, I figured I had more than enough material.
“… Okay.”
I began reconstructing the stone into a massive staircase leading toward the ceiling.
I went with a spiral staircase. I built a central pillar, then attached steps to it, reinforcing the structure with additional supports. Safety first, aesthetics second.
Still, building something that huge was exhausting. I worked in intervals, resting in between, somehow managing to keep the construction going.
At one break, I stepped outside the cave to check the surroundings.
I inhaled deeply, exhaled, and refreshed my mood. Judging from the sun, it was already nearing evening.
“… Mm? Oh, what’s this I’ve found?”
And right there in front of the cave, squish, squish, came a line of slimes. Seven of them.
At the front was the slime I had first planted a tomato in, leading the others in a squishy little parade.
“All right, all of you came to become a tomato field too, huh? I’ll make you a proper tomato field!”
So, without delay, I planted tomatoes in the remaining six slimes… When I gave them water and fertilizer, the slimes quivered, *boyoyong*, their bodies trembling.
… Maybe, just maybe, they actually want fertilizer and that’s why they let me plant tomatoes on them? If that’s the case, they’re smart—but I mean, they don’t look like they even have brains. So how are they thinking about anything at all?
Well, maybe I shouldn’t overthink it… Logic doesn’t apply to fantasy.
With that, the slimes squishily shuffled away again. So capricious, these things.
Well, as long as they come back tomorrow morning so I can harvest the tomatoes, I’m fine with it. If the slimes are okay with this arrangement, then this WIN-WIN relationship can continue. Water and fertilizer are cheap, after all.
… Although, maybe the water and fertilizer carry some kind of mana too. After all, they’ve gone through decomposition, absorption, and reconstruction, so it’s possible.
But even if that’s the case, it’s not really a problem. As long as the slimes are happily growing tomatoes, that’s enough for me.
Having expanded my self-driving slime tomato farm, I felt refreshed. Time to get back to construction.
“… It’s gotten pretty high.”
The spiral staircase had grown tall, really tall. But honestly, looking up from the bottom, I had no sense of just how high it actually was. What the heck.
“Well, no choice. Let’s go see…”
Seeing the height was a little discouraging, but… what the heck, I might as well climb. After some light warm-up, I began the slow ascent. Safety first.
… but.
“… Finally reached the top step, and it’s still not enough?”
I looked up from the top of the spiral staircase… at the crack above, and my spirits sank further.
It’s still not enough? You greedy thing!
“Uh… maybe I should extend it a little more?”
Well, it looked like a bit more extension would do it. I started to lengthen the staircase…
“… It disappeared!?”
The part I had extended vanished.
… Just gone. Poof. The part I added. Completely gone.
“No way… is there some kind of height limit?”
This left me at a total loss. What am I supposed to do here…
Well, I couldn’t just sulk forever, so I decided to test a bit more.
I brought a stone rod close to the crack, tossed stones at it, observed… and from that:
“… So anything that gets too close to the crack just disappears.”
Apparently, there’s a height limit. Like, the dungeon’s power only reaches so far… something like that.
More interestingly, it seemed like magical energy was sparkling down from the crack. Or rather… whatever comes from the other side of the crack is converted into mana on this side.
“… If only I could somehow reach that far… well, impossible for now, I guess.”
Can’t be helped. Maybe strengthening the dungeon’s power will raise the limit, or maybe I’ll have to find another method… for now, it’s a “hold” move.
I also don’t want to disappear just by approaching it myself. Better to take the usual, patient approach.
I went down the spiral staircase, took a bath, and went to bed. At times like this, the fastest solution is just sleep.
And the next morning…
“Oh, perfect, perfect…”
The tomato plants in the field in front of my house—basically under the sparkling crack—had grown beautifully.
At a level good enough to sell as garden seedlings. At this rate, they might be ready for harvest in three or four days…
… Is this dungeon power, too? Now that I know the sparkling light contains magic, it might be that the magic is helping the tomatoes grow. Amazing stuff, magic.
After watering the indoor crops, I went outside.
“You guys are lively today too, huh?”
Outside the cave, as expected, the slimes marched along squishily, their tomato branches and fruits swaying. So energetic!
“All right, harvest time… today’s a good yield!”
The tomato-field slimes didn’t seem to mind me harvesting the fruits. I even poked their soft, squishy bodies. If I poked too much, they’d shake and squish away—kind of cute.
“Huh? Wait… one’s missing. One, two… only six? Huh…?”
Looking closer, one slime was missing. There had been seven yesterday… Did the first slime I planted a tomato in die of old age? Or maybe the tomato sucked all its nutrients and it died…?
Feeling a bit guilty at the thought, I solemnly sprinkled fertilizer on the slimes. Hoping silently: “Live long…”
But it turned out the missing slime wasn’t dead.
“Ah! There you are, number seven! Where’ve you been, free spirit! Well, okay then!”
While I was watering the normal tomato pots, six slimes had gone off squishily, and a new slime with a tomato appeared, making its squishy way toward me.
“Huh? You don’t have any fruit yet…?”
This slime’s branches were swaying, but no tomatoes. Upon closer inspection, there were signs that the tips had been bitten off. So… some other creature must have eaten them.
“Well, whatever. I’ll give you water and fertilizer too. Better stick with the other six, okay?”
I gave water and fertilizer to the seventh slime, watching it squish along quickly to join the others.
Live well. And try to give me the tomatoes if possible. Remember, I provided the fertilizer!
Now then.
I’d harvested tomatoes from six slimes, and the haul was substantial—almost too much.
For now, I restructured a basket from plant fibers and stuffed the tomatoes in it… and it was heavy.
“If this keeps happening every day, it’s going to be insane…”
In a few days, I should be able to harvest tomatoes from the indoor fields, the pots, and the outdoor pots. Probably best to decompose and absorb, then reconstruct when I want to eat them… Looks like meals will be tomato and bread for a while.
“I also want protein. Maybe I should look for beans…”
Having nothing but tomatoes would be boring. Time to try growing something else. If I find wild beans, I can selectively breed them into suitable crops.
… Then, I heard it.
“… Is someone there?”
A clear voice.
I tensed, looking toward it… rustling in the bushes, and a woman appeared.
Blonde hair cut around her shoulders. Alert green eyes.
And—peeking out—long, pointed ears.
… An elf! Fantasy world confirmed! Whoaaaaa!
What do you think about this chapter?
