After successfully conquering the thirtieth underground floor, I paid a visit to Damian's laboratory.
The return trip took two days.
In reality, it was about one day.
By boarding a Porter inside the dungeon and choosing a safe route back to the surface, that was all the time it took.
Shannon looked exhausted from the unfamiliar environment, but other than that, there were no particular problems.
Once back, I reported to the Guild with the captured adventurers as witnesses.
Today, I went to Damian's laboratory regarding Poyopoyo—Monica, that is.
I had arrived at the academy with Monica after finishing breakfast, which was fine.
But by now, Monica—
"Humble yourselves, mass-produced models. I have been given the name 'Monica' by my Master, so I am nothing like you numbered mass-produced products."
She puffed out her chest and was putting on airs in front of three of Damian's Automatons.
"How infuriating! You should have just stayed destroyed!"
"So you deliberately took damage for the sake of the situation… As expected of a custom order. Your nastiness is custom too."
"That sort of underhanded trick… It is beyond our imagination."
(These three actually get along, don't they?)
The three Automatons looked at Monica with frustrated expressions.
Monica was basking in their reactions with a smug look of superiority.
Damian spoke.
"Where you can see the insides and red liquid splashes out… It really is something, isn't it? The ancients."
I reported to Damian about Monica—how, despite being destroyed, she possessed a fearsome self-repair function.
Upon hearing the report, Damian pushed up his glasses and fell into thought.
"You're not going to ask to break her for experiments, right?"
I asked, slightly worried, but the ones who reacted were the three Automatons.
"If it is the Master's order—"
"Yes, we are always prepared."
"Come on, right this moment, even!"
Seeing the Automatons who actually seemed to be hoping to be destroyed, I was now certain they were the same breed as Monica.
Damian scoffed.
"What for? I'm busy with my own research. I already handed Automaton research off to another professor."
Seemingly uninterested, Damian had given away the Automaton research to someone else.
It appeared he had gathered all the data he needed and was now occupied with his own work.
"Then you don't need the report anymore?"
When I asked, Damian shook his head.
"Everything except Automatons interests me. I'm talking about the Porter. The adventurers are making a racket, and the academy has set its sights on those things."
Damian looked tired, but a voice came from the Jewel.
The usual Fourth Generation.
"Hoh… Lyle, the time has come to sell your know-how at a high price. Porters are something adventurers will push hard to get their hands on, even at great cost. They'll surely offer thousands of gold coins… You understand, right? Start by proposing a large sum—"
I ignored the Fourth Generation and continued talking with Damian.
"If you can silence the Guild, I'm fine handing over all the data I've collected so far. I'll also include the schematics for a simplified version of the Porter, so it would help if you could buy it at a reasonable price."
Damian looked at me.
He seemed slightly puzzled.
"Is that alright? There are plenty of people making noise about it being worth a fortune."
Indeed, its value within the dungeon had been enormous.
But the Porter fundamentally couldn't reach high speeds.
It was slow and had a structure specialized for dungeon use.
The Fourth Generation started making a fuss.
"What are you saying, Lyle! This is the time to take the big money and save—"
The Fifth Generation stopped him.
"If you had that much, you'd just become a target instead. Moderation is key."
Besides, the data I possessed was certainly valuable now.
But if the academy got serious, it could be gathered quickly enough.
At the same time, I didn't think things would go that smoothly.
"Having used one, I can tell it's certainly excellent for hauling cargo… but it requires a certain level of talent to operate, and above all, you need at least a mid-tier mage. With a large Porter, you can't even pass each other in single corridors inside the dungeon."
The simplified version could go up and down stairs and was small enough to pass in corridors—smaller than a standard Porter.
Monica had designed it.
To prioritize cargo transport and ease of use, miniaturization was essential.
"It's valuable feedback from the user. Indeed, I thought some degree of miniaturization would be necessary if we were to spread it to the general public."
Damian could use [Golem] magic.
The academy was trying to use the Porter to generate new, major privileges.
"The Aramsass Guild is resisting our home-transfer request. On top of this recent incident, they say they're short-handed and would really like us to stay."
One major party had been destroyed, and the Aramsass Guild was in a panic.
They had leaked adventurer information, which was a problem, but the fact that they had been colluding with the raiders had reached other adventurers' ears.
Since that was what we had set in motion, it was going according to plan.
Amid that chaos, we had submitted the home-transfer notice to the Aramsass Guild.
Damian spoke.
"That's a shame. Lyle was one of the few people who remembered my name. Well, those who build their skills here will naturally move on elsewhere. When the Guild is in that state."
The academy had also lodged a protest against the Guild.
It seemed they had intended to buy the know-how from me.
More people had their eye on the Porter than I had imagined.
Damian said something along the lines of "It'll probably be chaotic for a while" while pushing up his glasses with his index finger.
"I'll pass the word along to the higher-ups. Not that the Guild won't be in an uproar regardless."
A few days later, when I showed up at the Guild, the reception staff looked at me with pale faces.
Conversely, the adventurers approached me with smiles.
I didn't know whether the Aramsass Guild would improve or worsen from here on, but either way, major changes were coming.
I was switching my home, so I had no interest.
Where should I go next?
That was what we discussed at the mansion.
However, it was Aria's slightly troubled expression that caught my attention.
"I'll bring them over. I have the documents compiled, so I can bring them tomorrow."
"Always so well-prepared," Damian said.
When he did, I gave a wry smile and replied.
"There was this persistently nagging person who kept saying I'd definitely need them."
It was the Fourth Generation inside the Jewel.
From the very start, he had been thinking about making a fortune with the Porter.
"What a waste! Assert your rights and at least take a tenth of the annual profits!"
The Fourth Generation was nagging about money, but I had come to understand as an adventurer that such things mattered too.
However, the Sixth Generation spoke.
"Lyle is just an adventurer. He has no political power and no influence. I don't think making a big fuss would accomplish anything."
The Fourth Generation pushed back.
"Do you have any idea how many people the Porter would affect! Not just the operators—creators are needed too! Repair personnel! If efficiency improves, more profitable adventurers will emerge! Listen, this privilege—"
I respected the Fourth Generation's opinion, but I had no intention of managing any of it.
So this time, I would submit all my know-how to the academy, receive payment, and be done with it.
Damian asked.
"Where are you heading next?"
"I haven't decided where to make my home, but I'm heading toward Central."
"What about that big load? Going to have a Porter carry it?"
The big load would be the armor of the fortieth underground floor boss that I had purchased.
I had bought it thinking it might be useful, but actually bringing it along was a bit awkward. However, I currently had no restrictions on Skill use.
"Well, I'll handle that with Skills."
"How convenient. I'm envious."
Damian smiled as he said that.
In the laboratory, Damian's subordinates were grimacing as they watched the Automatons.
"Damn it! Three-on-one is cowardly!"
"Hmph! Don't underestimate the coordination of mass-produced models!"
"We'll surround you and pound you!"
"She's tough! Even broken, she's still a Special Model!"
When I turned around, there was Monica—dressed in a rather billowy outfit for a maid—fighting alongside the three Automatons.
I spoke.
"Sigh… Let's go, Monica."
With those words, I left Damian's laboratory, and Monica threw parting words at the three.
"The adorable Chicken Monica is heading home. Well then, goodbye, mass-produced models who look like they could be mistaken for serial numbers."
The three Automatons tugged at their aprons with frustrated expressions.
Their acting was so refined they truly looked human.
(…What were Monica and the others created for?)
I couldn't help but wonder.
— Aria had gone to visit Lyle.
Lyle was working in her room, and Aria told her about changing homes.
Lyle, still working, replied as she always did.
"Is that so? Well, with that much skill, you'll do fine anywhere. Next is Baim?"
Baim was called the City of Adventurers and was a place where adventurers never lacked for work.
At the same time, its public order was terrible, and it was called the City of Adventurers with a touch of irony.
In truth, it was a free city governed by merchants, but now it was known by that name.
"That hasn't been decided yet. For now, I'm leaving Aramsass and heading to Central."
If I headed to Central, I could take connecting carriages to major destinations from there.
When traveling, I would inevitably pass through Central.
This time, the purpose was to secure personnel.
Miranda, Clara, Shannon… I had succeeded in adding three people.
The goal could be said to have been achieved, but Aria was sad about parting with Lyle, whom she had been with for several months.
"Adventurers… You meet them and soon part ways. On the other hand, there are those who never part and just keep tagging along. That's just how it is. If you worry about it, there's no end."
Lyle seemed to sense Aria's feelings and stopped working.
Then she said to Aria.
"Ideally, it would be better to quit this kind of work and live a proper life, but…"
In Aramsass it wasn't so bad, but adventurers were mostly ruffians.
There were many criminals, and their reputation was poor.
Once you became famous, things were different, but even then, many people made unpleasant faces at the mere mention of adventurers.
In the special environment of Aramsass, where academy students registered as adventurers, that kind of look was less common.
Lyle spoke.
"From Darion to Aramsass… all proper places, I see. That worries me a bit, but you survived a raid. You'll be fine."
"But, Lyle said the enemy let their guard down…"
Aria recalled what Lyle had said about their opponents.
They had Skills and had used items at the right timing—that part was fine.
But the enemy had underestimated them. If they had been just a little more cautious, it would have been dangerous.
"If you were being targeted by people who go after fellow professionals, you'd all be dead. Well, people that skilled would be busy working as mercenaries… The fact that they're picking and choosing targets in a place like this tells you they're definitely small-time."
Aramsass was a place where aspiring adventurers gathered to hone themselves and build their parties.
Even if there were some who were smug about their skills there, they wouldn't cut it in the outside world.
"This world rewards caution above all. Don't forget that. Of course, you need luck too… but your leader seems like the kind of person who has it."
Luck—an element that effort alone couldn't overcome.
Thinking of Lyle, who had been told he possessed it, Aria felt like tilting her head.
"Do you think so?"
"Those who survive to the end and succeed usually have good luck. You won't know until you reach the end, though."
Whether for better or worse, Aria had decided to follow Lyle.
Not because her life had been bought.
Because she had chosen to follow.
(…Could it be that confession… No, but I heard he does read his books carefully.)
There were things that worried her.
Besides, Aria wanted to become stronger.
Lyle tossed a finished item to Aria.
"A farewell gift. Take it."
"Huh? This…"
Aria received a necklace fitted with a gem and looked at Lyle.
"Who walks around forever with their trump card tied on a piece of string? You need to make sure you don't lose it."
At Lyle's words, Aria set the red gem into the silver necklace.
When she put it on, she felt the weight of the metal.
"You look good in it. Try to dress a bit more presentably too."
At Lyle's smiling words, Aria thanked her.
"Ah, thank you!"
Seeing Aria's glistening eyes, Lyle looked embarrassed—
At the Cerclie household, Miranda—who had already graduated from the academy—was sorting through belongings.
It was for the purpose of selling them.
Since they belonged to the Cerclie family—Miranda's own family—she had informed her father by letter before putting anything up for sale.
She had written that she had graduated from the academy and would be living as an adventurer.
Regarding Shannon's eyes… she had written a lie saying that while the treatment wasn't complete, she could live a reasonably normal life.
(Though having to admit it was all a lie would be something else…)
Miranda watched Novem and Shannon cleaning.
"See, you need to clean properly."
"They're going to buy it and resell it anyway, so I'm cleaning before that! It's absolutely pointless!"
Shannon resisted the cleaning, but with a smiling Novem in front of her, she squealed "Eek!" and started working hard again.
Clara, who had come to help, asked Miranda.
"Um, am I coming along as well?"
Miranda said while cleaning.
"Yes. Because we're companions, aren't we?"
She had emphasized the word "companions" slightly, but Miranda looked at Clara and then turned back.
Clara looked a little happy.
More importantly, Miranda was thinking about the letter from her father.
Even if she was a daughter who had been cast out, Miranda was still a member of the Cerclie family.
Her father had written for her to stop by the family home.
(I can't help being curious about it. He's not opposed to me becoming an adventurer or anything.)
Miranda's father seemed to have resigned himself to the fact that if his daughter had chosen such a life, there was nothing to be done about it.
But he had written that she must come by at least once.
(I wonder if some problem came up?)
For Miranda, who had left home, the family was no longer much of a concern.
The second and third daughters had already decided to take husbands, and during her time studying in Aramsass, Miranda had been in the position of receiving financial support.
There was also the matter of Shannon, and the fact that she had been kicked out was surely known by those around her.
(I hope it's not some kind of trouble…)
Miranda thought she would consult Lyle about the letter.
— Inside the Jewel.
The Second Generation and Third Generation were talking.
"Lyle has successfully cleared the challenge as well."
"Yes. It's a shame he didn't grow… Ah, I mean physically 'grow.'"
The Third Generation was complaining that this time the "Riel-san" effect hadn't appeared.
The Second Generation was indeed disappointed not to have seen it either, but that wasn't the priority now.
"…Say, I think you already know this, but—"
The Third Generation nodded.
"This can't be helped—it's a matter of turn order. My turn seems like it'll be skipped."
The Second Generation's Skill was useful but couldn't be called difficult.
Fundamentally, it was a true support Skill that allowed others to use Skills as well.
As a secondary effect, it was a convenient Skill that let you perceive the surrounding situation. Even so, the difficulty of acquiring it wasn't high.
Mastering it required talent. But just using it was manageable.
The First Generation, Second Generation… the Skills of those two weren't particularly unusual compared to others.
Because they had those kinds of Skills, the Skills of the successive Heads took on different forms.
There was a foundation, which was why they were driven to develop their own unique Skills.
"…I was a plain Head, so I wonder how much I can actually teach him."
When the Second Generation said that, the Third Generation spoke with a serious expression.
"The First Generation cleared the forest, and I was a great hero in the war… If you're sandwiched between those two, you'd naturally seem plain! I'm sorry for being so accomplished!"
Going from a serious expression to bursting out laughing, the Second Generation bonked the Third Generation on the head.
The Third Generation complained.
"Oh come on, it was just a joke!"
"Your jokes always have a dark edge to them. Besides, getting yourself killed in battle… It suited you the least of all."
"…I think so too."
The two shared a moment of melancholy, but the Second Generation spoke.
"I'd like to at least end things with a bang, but… I really am plain at heart, and I just can't come up with anything. Like my old man, something cool—that's impossible."
The Second Generation laughed as he said it.
"If it's Lyle, he'll understand the Second Generation's struggles… He's a good kid."
When the Third Generation said that, the Second Generation nodded.
"He's not crude like the First Generation, not plain like me, and not dark like you. He really is a good kid."
"That's harsh~"
The Third Generation laughed, but then put on a serious expression.
"Well, leave the rest to us. The others are reliable too."
The Second Generation spoke.
"…Truthfully, we shouldn't even be able to give advice. I mean, really, it's all because the old man—Dad—bought a cheap blue gem that things turned out this way."
The successive Heads whose memories resided in the Jewel were, in reality, dead.
And yet, here they were, possessing memories and hearts.
Why did the Jewel hold such abilities?
Why hadn't it activated until now?
There were mountains of questions.
If all it needed to do was transmit information, the gem could have simply given knowledge.
The Second Generation spoke.
"There must be some reason, but I don't think I'll ever find out what it is… Not that knowing would change anything."
The Third Generation agreed.
"Right. Why would it need to do something like this… I'm as curious about it as those Automatons."
The two continued their conversation within the Jewel—.