On the eve of our departure tomorrow to fulfill a Guild request, I was listening in on the conversation between Old Man Ratarta and Damian, who had come to visit the mansion.
I had wanted to watch their first meeting, but I felt like it had been a failure — though not in a bad way.
At the parlor table, Damian had spread out blueprints and was passionately explaining things to Old Man Ratarta.
"I still think individual variation is necessary. As it is now, Lyle is just obsessed with huge breasts, so that's an important point. I want to introduce individual differences in the organic body parts."
Speaking with a dead-serious expression, Damian received a fed-up response from Old Man Ratarta — and I silently wished he'd give this eccentric a proper scolding.
"Of course it is. Same face over and over gets boring. But an organic body? That's outside my jurisdiction. I can build the skeleton like you asked, but... cover the whole body in organic material?"
(Oh, that's obvious!?)
"That's not possible. Mechanical parts will inevitably be exposed. The ancients were truly great, weren't they? The Automatons looked completely human. Well, maybe we could make the limbs detachable and swappable?"
Damian reluctantly conceded, and Old Man Ratarta nodded in agreement.
"Can't be helped. If I'm too particular about it, it won't be finished while I'm still alive. If that happens, then this part would have to be—"
Old Man Ratarta drew lines on the blueprint as Shannon watched him with apparent interest. Since Shannon, who normally couldn't see, seemed to be enjoying herself, I got curious and asked.
"Is something interesting going on?"
"Well, yes. I can actually see the lines on the blueprint the maid prepared, so it's interesting. I can see the characters and numbers too. I can see all the revised parts, so it's already a complete mess, but still."
She said that, so I looked at the blueprint. On top of the lines Old Man Ratarta had drawn, Damian had gone and drawn additional lines over them.
"You can see the additions too? Like the lines that were just drawn?"
"I can't see those."
As Shannon answered without hesitation, the Seventh Generation seemed to have come up with something.
*"Hmm, now that's rather interesting... Lyle, can Shannon write characters and numbers? No, rather — can she understand them?"*
When asked whether Shannon, who was blind, could read and write, I rolled the Jewel between my fingertips to convey a negative answer. The Seventh Generation said with regret:
But he didn't seem ready to give up.
*"It'll take time, but I suppose there's no helping that. We'll add reading and writing to the list going forward."*
*(Reading and writing — for Shannon, who can't see?)*
I was curious what the Seventh Generation had in mind, but watching the two of them heat up in front of me made me increasingly anxious.
"Then we do this, and that leads to a prototype… the first one should take two to three months."
Damian nodded, satisfied with Old Man Latarta's estimate.
"That sounds right. The budget would be… around five thousand gold coins? It'll go a bit over, but that's fine, right? After that, we run tests repeatedly, and then build the second unit."
When I heard that proposal, I—
"Hey, wait a second… that's already two thousand gold coins over the original budget?"
I said to the two of them while breaking into a cold sweat, but both of them were all smiles.
"There's no other environment where all these conditions come together like this. I'll cooperate as much as I can too. But it's going to cost money. Even once we're ready for mass production, each unit will basically run about a thousand gold coins."
"What I said before was the bare minimum. If we don't go this far, we can't meet Lyle's expectations. So go earn some more funding for us, okay? I'm going to climb even higher with this craft! Now then, next up is the appearance."
"Why not just go on more adventures instead? A beautiful lady in full armor isn't bad, but I want more of a playful touch."
"A playful touch… yeah! That's important!"
Watching the two of them get fired up, I broke into another cold sweat, worried about whether the funding would be enough.
*(This is bad. At this rate, I'm definitely going to run short on funds again. Sure, I've gotten to where I can earn a decent amount from regular quests, but this is like pouring water on a hot stone.)*
I'd gained enough recognition as an adventurer at the Guild to be assigned higher-difficulty quests. At the same time, the success rewards had increased — but even so, it still wasn't enough money.
"Hey, you two, could you maybe rein it in a little—"
Then Damian looked at me and said,
"I am, you know. Just so you're aware, if we really went all out, the first unit would be in the ten-thousand-gold-coin range. But… you know, maybe that wouldn't be so bad? A prototype machine really is a boy's dream, after all."
Raterta Grandpa shook his head.
"I'm fond of the mass-production models myself, but hey, what's the practical call here, kid? Throwing money at something doesn't guarantee it'll turn out great, but it never hurts."
When he said that and I was about to go with the cheaper option, the Fourth Generation spoke up in a surprisingly serious tone.
"…Laiel, let's go with ten thousand gold coins. And have the two of them draw up a contract. All rights to any technology developed here belong to Laiel. You can hook Damian with promises of ongoing support. And tell the old man you'll set up the best possible environment for him."
Just when I was thinking the Fourth Generation wasn't the type to be stingy with money, a voice came from the Jewel — Mireia's voice.
"Oh my, Master. Have you come up with another money-making scheme? Some things never change."
In a cheerful voice, the Fourth Generation replied.
"Of course I have! Problems with personality aside, these two are top-tier minds and craftsmen! If they're not holding back, that means they're capable of something truly special! …Well, even if it fails, it's not our money to begin with. It wasn't in the budget anyway, so a little splurging won't hurt."
(A little?! That's no small amount!)
Right.
It was Vera's money. That's why I wanted to be as careful with it as possible. But the Successive Heads all seemed to agree with the Fourth Generation's proposal.
The Third Generation looked uninterested.
"If it's about making money, just leave it to the Fourth Generation. It's all yours."
The Fifth Generation didn't seem interested either.
"Ditto."
Only the Seventh Generation seemed to grasp what the Fourth Generation was planning.
"Technological monopoly… no, you're preparing to sell it. You mean to do the same thing here that you did with Aramsass. I see. When you put it that way, ten thousand gold coins isn't too steep a price. Baim does have a lot of wealthy people, after all."
I covered my face with my left hand and said to the two of them.
"The ten-thousand-coin plan, then. But I'll be keeping the technology we develop here. I'll pay appropriate compensation, of course."
At that, Damian threw both hands up in the air, beaming with joy.
"As expected of Lyle! You really understand!"
Grandpa Ratata looked pleased too.
"Not worrying about money is great. It's getting interesting again for the first time in a while!"
Seeing the two of them so happy, I slumped my shoulders, and Shannon spoke to me.
"You've got it tough too, huh?"
I saw Shannon laughing with her hand over her mouth. I smiled back.
"Starting today, you're practicing reading and writing."
I told her that.
"Why?! Aren't you embarrassed about taking your frustration out on me?!"
Leaving the Golem matter to Damian and Grandpa Ratata, I visited information broker Rauno before our departure.
As usual, I brought Miranda, and as usual, I paid the reward to Rauno's gnomish assistant, Innis.
In Rauno's workroom, which doubled as his bedroom, we received the report.
Miranda, looking at the report.
"You surveyed a remarkably wide area. You didn't cut corners, did you?"
Rauno, looking sleepy, waved his left hand.
"No way. I got a colleague to tag along, and we infiltrated together. Business is booming on our end, you know. Sometimes passing on jobs so you don't get envied is important too. Well, human relationships are tough everywhere, aren't they?"
Miranda narrowed her eyes slightly and smiled.
"As long as it's not just because you wanted an easy way out, it's fine. Well, if the information is accurate, I won't complain."
As I read through the report, my eyes were drawn to one section.
It stated that problems were arising between the expanded Kingdom of Rolfis and its neighboring countries. The two nations of Galleria and Rusworth were still at war with each other.
However, Rolfis, which bordered both of those nations, seemed unsure of what kind of distance it should maintain with them.
"Even sending envoys got them turned away? No trade either, huh?"
As I read through the report, Rauno explained with a yawn.
"We've been doing that kind of thing with Baim for a while now. Both sides warned us to stay out of it, saying they'd crush us if we intervened. Those Valkyries really seem to love war, don't they?"
The report stated that both sides had suffered damage this time as well. Still, they seemed oddly calm for nations whose neighbor had been destroyed.
(I half expected them to come attacking, though.)
If they had, my plan was to side with one of them, crush the other, and then form a three-nation alliance or federation.
(...Something must be going on.)
Wondering about that, I picked up a different document. It was about Banseim. Every piece of news was grim.
"Banseim is still in a terrible state, huh? No, it's getting worse and worse, isn't it."
When I said that, Miranda seemed curious.
"...Banseim's in all kinds of turmoil, but Baim doesn't seem to be making any notable moves."
Rauno grinned at that.
"Well, they probably only see other countries as business partners at best. If anything, they might be thinking that more wars means more profit for their mercenaries. And I'm sure the higher-ups are figuring out how to monetize all of this."
It was a country wracked by civil war. Magic Stone collection and the like probably wasn't going smoothly.
That meant Banseim would need to purchase Magic Stones from neighboring countries. But those neighbors weren't about to sell Magic Stones to the current Banseim, which might turn on them at any moment. That left only one place willing to sell — Baim.
From within the Jewel, the Third Generation murmured with a disinterested air.
"'Watching the fire from across the river,' as they say? Or more like, figuring out how to profit from that fire. From what I can see in the information, there's a lot that doesn't seem credible, but doesn't that bother you?"
It was mainly about Ceres.
Apparently, upon meeting Ceres, people were mesmerized and willing to give up everything for her. There were also reports of the sheer brutality of the massacres and plundering committed in conquered territories.
Even though that information had already reached them, Baim seemed entirely nonchalant about it.
"Rauno, Baim's getting the reports about Ceres too, right?"
"They are, but whether they believe them is up to them, isn't it? War is hell, after all. When something seems a bit too awful to be true, people tend to assume the reports must be wrong. And rumors have a way of growing bigger than life. They'd chalk it up to that kind of thing. Or maybe they'd *want* to chalk it up to that. Incidentally, Baim has a long history of repelling invasions from other countries. They've got a foundation of confidence that they'll be fine."
If it came to war, the Guild would frantically gather adventurers without a shred of dignity. Merchants would strangle the enemy's economy, and mercenary companies would be hired on.
Baim really was a troublesome place to deal with.
Miranda was flipping through a different report, crossing and uncrossing her legs.
"Hey, there's something here about a country between Baim and Banseim — it says their movements are suspicious. What's that about?"
As Miranda's expression turned serious, Rauno spoke with a hint of irritation.
"...Apparently, a prosperous village has sprung up. On its own, that wouldn't be worth worrying about, but it seems they've been stockpiling quite a lot of Magic Stones and raw materials. The village itself is starting to shift its focus in that direction, too. With Banseim tearing itself apart in a civil war, the buyback price for Magic Stones has gone up, which explains part of it... but I'm suspicious. There's a chance they might be hiding a Dungeon of their own, or something like that."
Rauno ended with a laugh, saying something like, "Well, that's just my wild guess," but the whole thing really did smell fishy.
(I can't interfere from another country.)
"Is there any way we could leak information or something?"
Rauno responded.
"There's no proof. But I do have a contact among Baim's higher-ups. It's indirect, but I can pass the information along. Still, with these kinds of things..."
Rauno gazed up at the ceiling.
"...by the time anyone notices, it's usually already too late."
——After Lyle and the others left the office, Rauno called Innis into the room.
He then had Innis read through every piece of information they had gathered.
"Well? What do you think, Innis?"
The diminutive Innis, sitting on the sofa, looked like a child struggling to read a difficult document.
Cute as she was, Innis's body was faintly emitting light.
He closed the window, and despite the dark room, it was vaguely bright. Inside, Rauno waited for Innis's answer.
The woman called Innis possessed a Skill. Not just any Skill — a special one. There was no second or third stage to it; it was complete the moment it manifested.
That Skill was [Information].
It was a Skill that scrutinized acquired information and forecasted future outcomes. It ranked as a higher-order version of Clara's ability, and the reason Rauno had survived as an information broker was precisely because he had Innis's Skill.
"...They're trying to keep it under wraps, but there's a high probability a Dungeon has spawned. Some materials from Monsters that haven't been identified in the surrounding area are already circulating. They may have assumed it was fine because the same species of Monster had appeared before. Also, there's a possibility the lord has already been won over."
Hearing this, Rauno confirmed with Innis.
"So then — the state of the neighboring countries, and the state of Baim. What happens going forward, Innis? The Dungeon is going to run rampant, isn't it?"
In response to Rauno's question, Innis said —
"There's a high probability it will run rampant in the near future. Dispatching adventurers in time won't be possible. If that happens, part of the Monster army will spill over into Baim as well."
Rauno spoke flatly.
"Can we stop it? How much damage will Baim take?"
"...The damage from the rampage itself would be in the thousands. But what comes after is the real problem."
"After?"
"There's a high likelihood the neighboring country will collapse. And after that, there's a high probability Banseim will seize control of it. Baim will surely get dragged in too."
In other words.
"— So our neighbor is going to become Banseim. That's trouble."
Rauno murmured to himself.
(Now then, how will my client act?)
"Innis, what do you think Lyle and the others will do?"
Then Innis was troubled. Even though she could predict most things with her Skills, she had repeatedly missed the mark whenever it came to Lyle.
She would take his personality, abilities, and other factors into account and run prediction after prediction, yet every single one ended up wrong.
"…I can't predict it. There isn't enough information. Every time, Lyle-san's actions end up somewhere completely unexpected relative to my projections."
Rauno gave a wry smile.
"Again? Truly, you're a client who never lets me get bored."
Third Generation (^_^): "Innis-chan! Do you actually have solid information on Lyle-san? That's the important part, you know! Otherwise you can't make any predictions lol"
Lyle (>\_<): "……This is all your fault! You keep dragging me into one thing after another!"
???? ;): "But you don't hate that sort of thing, do you? You're really not honest at all."