Tomatoes and Elf*3
And so—
“Wow, this much… is it really okay?”
“It’s fine. As long as you bring me seeds in return!”
I slipped into the back of the cave, reconstructed a few short loaves of bread, wrapped them in cloth, and handed them over.
The basket of tomatoes? She could take the whole thing. I wouldn’t be able to finish them all anyway.
Mishisia was deeply moved, but honestly, it wasn’t much of a loss for me. If she was happy, then great.
“Thank you, Asuma-sama! Next time I’ll bring the seeds!”
“Yup, I’ll be waiting! By the way, why the heck do you keep adding -sama!?”
“Because you’re a god!”
… And with that, Mishisia headed off toward the village. Probably in that direction. I see, so the village is that way…
Well, if this helped feed some starving people, then I’ve done something good. And in exchange I’ll be getting crop seeds. Win-win. Feeling pretty satisfied, actually. Nice.
One thing does bug me, though. Being treated as a god. And yet, for a god, she sure treats me casually. Makes me wonder… what’s the religion of this world even like?
Feels kind of like Japanese polytheism. The boundary between gods and monsters is vague. Well, considering monsters actually exist here, maybe that’s natural.
But still—things like “tribute” and “blessings”? That smells like organized religion to me. If so, then what does that make my position?
“… Alright. Let’s stop overthinking.”
No point in tying my brain in knots. I’ll just rely on Mishisia as an information source and hope for a good relationship from here on out. After all, we’re already in a position to help each other.
She seems like a genuinely good person too. I mean, she ventured into a dungeon alone, just to help a village that only “recently” took her in. Who does that?
So, in preparation for her next visit, I built a stone bench at the cave entrance. Wouldn’t do to have her standing around while I pepper her with questions.
I also crafted cups and plates out of crystal—refreshingly cool-looking—and set up a little reception room just inside the cave. A shelf to hold dishes, a water jar filled with clean water, and a basket with bread. That should make things look halfway proper.
“… Maybe I should start preparing for more people to come.”
Because if Mishisia could walk in, then others could too. And they might not all be as kind as she is.
So I started thinking like a proper dungeon master.
Having people reach the very back makes me nervous, so I decided to make the cave into a maze. Lots of branching side paths to obscure the true route.
Not just left and right—also up and down. A tangled web of passages. Detours that loop back together. Vertical shafts you must dive down to progress. Narrow cracks that only a child-sized body could squeeze through, hiding the real path.
… Mapping this would be hell. No neat floors like “B1F” or “B2F.” Just messy slopes and sudden pits. Exhausting to explore, impossible to chart properly.
Anyone coming for treasure would run out of food and strength first. Maybe even get stuck permanently. I know the shortcuts, so I’m fine—but outsiders would be doomed to get lost.
Just in case someone still made it through, I added a few simple traps: cages that drop from above, and hidden pitfalls.
I could make deadlier traps, sure. But that feels wrong.
From what I understand, the point of a dungeon is to gather magic power, not rack up kills. So I’ll stick with non-lethal deterrents for now.
… Unless I’m wrong, and dungeons are meant to kill people? Honestly, I don’t know squat about dungeons. Another thing to ask Mishisia, I guess.
“Speaking of which, she said she came here looking for food and valuables…”
The food makes sense—she stumbled onto tomato-slimes. But the valuables? That must mean dungeons are expected to have treasure.
… In that case, my dungeon is seriously underwhelming compared to others.
Maybe I should prepare some kind of treasure? Then again, stocking fake wealth feels silly. I’ll just leave it for now. If someday I want a gold-filled dungeon, I can do that then.
And so, the next day.
I cheerfully watered the tomatoes, fed the slimes fertilizer, and harvested a ton of tomatoes. Even more than yesterday. Total bumper crop. But hey, I like tomatoes, so no problem.
“You guys sure are lively, huh!”
The slimes lined up, squishing along at their own pace. Easy to feed them that way. Cute little guys.
“Oh, a newcomer. Sorry, you’ll have to wait. I’m planting something other than tomatoes in you.”
A new slime had joined the line, probably lured by rumors of my “fertilizer fountain tour.” But I wasn’t about to make this into an all-tomato dungeon.
“Once Mishisia brings other seeds—ah.”
Right then, I sensed an intruder approaching from the entrance. Apparently, this is how a dungeon detects visitors.
I waited as the presence drew closer…
“Asuma-samaaa! Good mooorning!”
Sure enough, it was Mishisia, running toward me with a big smile… But!
“Mishisia-san! Good morning! But why are you running through the forest instead of the path!?”
“This way’s faster!”
She bounded from tree to tree, practically flying through the forest. Damn. This is what an elf can do, huh? Straight out of fantasy.
Once she arrived, I handed her some water as hospitality. Purified water, free of impurities, minerals, or flavor. Completely tasteless.
“Mm!? … This water is amazing…”
“Oh? Glad you like it.”
Apparently, she found it delicious. Huh.
“It’s brimming with pure mana… this must be dungeon spring water!”
“… Not exactly.”
Wait—so dungeons are supposed to have springs? I’ll need to look into that.
“I see… no wonder the slimes here are so smart. They’re bathing in all this mana! Even the forest seems blessed—it’s gotten so lively lately, I was wondering why…”
Wow. Just serving her water gave me all this info. Incredible.
“The slimes here… are they smart?”
“Yup, I think so. They don’t attack people, they let you plant things in them and just stay calm… They know you’ll give them water, so they line up every morning, right?”
So normally, slimes do attack people. Yikes.
“Probably they’re influenced by your mana. They’re very good children.”
Mishisia patted them affectionately, and the slimes jiggled in response. Looked like they were replying… though who knows if that’s true.
“Oh, right, I almost forgot. Here, Asuma-sama!”
She pulled a pouch from her waist and handed it to me.
“Seeds! Like I promised!”
“Ohhh—!”
Several small bags tumbled into my hands, each with tags in a script I didn’t know—yet could read anyway. Creepy. Why can I read this!?
Also, the writing on my bracelet is different from these. Maybe ancient script versus elf script?
“This one’s lentils, this one peas, and this one climbing beans. Since you said beans, I brought a variety!”
“Yes! Seeds! Ahh, thank you so much, Mishisia-san!”
Bless you, Mishisia. Truly. I didn’t know climbing beans, but lentils and peas I knew! This’ll work!
“And this one’s wheat, this one radish, carrot, cabbage, kale, and garlic!”
“… That’s… a lot. Thank you.”
Even more seeds. Each just a small pouch, but that’s fine—once they sprout, they’ll grow insanely fast here. I don’t need tons.
“Alright, everyone, line up!”
At my command, the slimes waddled into a sort-of line.
“One at a time, step forward! If you’re already planted, move aside! Be back tomorrow morning!”
Shockingly, they listened. Sort of. Smart little blobs, indeed.
“Ehh, you’re really… planting them?”
“Yup. Planting them.”
Mishisia looked horrified as I stuck seeds into slimes’ heads. Yeah, I get it. It is a bit “eww.” But it works. Fastest harvest method.
“You guys can bring friends too, if you want. We’ve still got seeds.”
A slime wobbled off, as if to spread the word.
Good. The more, the better.
“Alright, seeds planted. Tomorrow we’ll have more crops.”
Scary, but true. This is my farming system now.
“By the way, Mishisia, want more tomatoes today?”
“Eh!? You don’t mind!?”
“Nope. I’ll even give you bread, if you’d like.”
She hesitated, worried it’d burden me, but I reassured her, fetched bread from inside, and handed it over.
“… So, in exchange, could you tell me more about the world outside? I really don’t know anything.”
Not that I know much about inside the dungeon either. But information—any information—would be gold.
“Sure. Let’s start with Panis Village, then.”
Perfect. I’ll listen carefully, ask about any terms I don’t get, and finally start piecing this world together.
At last—some answers are coming my way!
What do you think about this chapter?
