The dungeon had finally closed.
I wouldn't be able to scrounge around the Junkyard to earn money for a while.
Even in the relatively safe parts of the Junkyard, there were mimics and puppet boxes.
Since those had shown up, I figured it couldn't be helped.
But right now, I was in good shape financially.
If I was frugal, I could go without working for a while.
But I wanted to work.
I wanted to move my body.
From my past-life memories, it seemed I was a born workaholic.
To think that trait carried over into this world too—I couldn't help but laugh bitterly.
But if I could earn, I would earn. If I could move, I would move. I figured that was the truth of this world.
Doing nothing could wait until I was dead.
So I decided to look for work beyond scavenging the dungeon's Junkyard.
I had connections and leads.
Around Hydrangea, dungeons and forests stretched out in every direction.
The forests were scattered about—not the kind that formed a vast, unbroken sea of trees.
To the north lay a mountain range, and to the east, a valley. Beyond that flowed the great Rive River.
Further upstream lay Lake Rive and the trading city of Heizen.
Leaving Hydrangea, I headed southwest.
I arrived at the second-largest forest in the area.
The trees here were strangely dense, making it dim even during the day.
Naturally, monsters showed up too.
And not just any monsters — copper- and silver-rank ones made their homes here.
Yet someone lived in the depths of a forest like this.
At the base of a great tree whose trunk bent in a gnarled curve, there was a brick house tucked inside a hollow.
I rang the bell hanging diagonally above the wooden door.
Chirin, chirin.
The door slowly creaked open.
"Oh my, if it isn't young Wof."
A beautiful woman peered out from the gap in the door, her large fox ears swaying.
"Hey there."
"Come, come, come right in."
A silver-haired fox beastkin. Her bewitching appearance suggested she was in her early twenties, but her true age was anyone's guess.
She was a witch.
And, well, was there some kind of dress code for witches or something?
A pitch-black robe over a pitch-black dress. An all-black ensemble, head to toe.
But that wasn't all.
The neckline was daringly low-cut, and the skirt was short too.
And she had three huge, fluffy, plush tails.
Each of the witch's three tails actually had a different color and texture, one by one.
Starting from the right:
The first tail was silvery-white from base to tip, fluffy and bushy.
The second tail had a flaxen base that faded to white at the tip, soft and plush.
The third tail had a white base with a flaxen tip, silky and light.
Just a slight lean forward and both her chest and the contents of her skirt were practically on display.
No, no. Bad thoughts.
Speaking of foxes, the classic was nine tails. After that came the Inari ones, I guess.
Actually, three tails made me think of a nue more than anything.
This one looked soft, while that one had been the very picture of danger.
The witch ushered me inside her house.
As expected, it was crammed full of all kinds of things.
Bundles of books that didn't fit on the bookshelves.
Suspicious-looking tools of unknown purpose.
A veritable forest of staffs poking out of the staff-storage tube.
For some reason, paintings, vases, sculptures, necklaces, and rings were scattered all over the floor.
The only things still usable were the table and the sofa.
It was a junk house, plain and simple.
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry about this. It's not exactly a place that gets many visitors, you see."
"Not at all, don't worry about it."
I gently declined the witch who had brought the tea.
"Now, now, have some herb tea, won't you?"
With that, the witch set a wooden cup down on the table.
It was smooth and thick — you could tell a craftsman had made it.
I hooked my fingers around the cup's handle and lifted it.
Inside was a vivid blue liquid.
The blue liquid rippled, and something fin-like was swimming around in it.
It had to be my imagination.
"...Anyway, do you have any herb-gathering work?"
I set the wooden cup down without drinking.
"Oh my, could it be — has the dungeon shut down again?"
"That's what happened."
"Hmm, hmm. That is strange indeed. Shutdowns are rare, you know."
"They said it was caused by an anomaly."
"Mm, mm. That would be a monster, then. Probably upper silver rank."
"Both lower and upper silver rank monsters appeared."
"My, my. What kind of monsters were they?"
"The lower one was a one-eyed white ape with a white lion's body and three tails."
"Oh my, oh my. That's a chimera, isn't it. And an albino variant at that."
So it wasn't a nue after all.
"The superior one was hiding in the Junkyard with a puppet box."
"Oh my, oh my. The Junkyard, you say. Don't tell me you ran into it there?"
"Yes. Agaro helped me out."
"I see, I see. The Doom Sword, right? Then I suppose even the variant was manageable."
"Agaro also took out the puppet box."
"Mhm, mhm. With the Doom Sword, even a lower Gold-rank can be taken down solo."
"A lower Gold-rank...!?"
"That's right. A dragon is lower Gold-rank, after all."
A dragon slayer, indeed.
And I had the feeling he was still holding back.
"So, I'd like to take on the herb-gathering job."
"Oh yes, right, right. In that case, there happens to be something I need. It's just in a bit of a troublesome spot."
"Troublesome?"
"Mhm, mhm. You see, a goblin nest has sprung up deep in this forest."
"A goblin nest?"
"That's right. And deep inside that goblin nest, there's Mōryu grass."
"Mōryu grass?"
It's my first time hearing the name, and I'm bewildered.
I've never heard of it before either.
"Not at all. It's also called Mōryu flower, you see. Before it became a goblin nest, that area was actually a Mōryu grass colony. Mōryu is a rare herb, and we've been in a bind because we've completely run out of stock."
"So I just need to go and get that for you?"
"Yep, yep. I'm counting on you."
The witch beams.
I say, deadpan.
"Which means I'll have to go inside the goblin nest, right?"
"Yep, yep. That's how it is."
The witch just keeps smiling.
There was no mistaking it—she was telling me to clear them out.