ch01-ch20 · 003-ch02

Chapter 2

A government office is set up near the labyrinth.

Dungeons — labyrinths — being under government control, it stood to reason that an administrative structure and staff would be needed to manage them. Only natural, really.

At more bustling labyrinths, the attached government office is supposedly called a "Guild" by the explorers, but Toru didn't get it.

It was just a government office.

About as cramped as a local post office, but it had a service counter, departments, and civil servants.

Since Toru — Hayasaka Toru — started working as a cleaner, the staff at the Sugai Dungeon branch office hadn't changed. The section chief overseeing the entire area was rarely around; Toru had only seen him once. Then there were three unmotivated clerks, two of whom were practically never there.

The remaining one was the one who mainly dealt with Toru.

"Yo. Toru here."

Hardly one to talk about anyone else's lack of motivation, Toru headed for the branch's reception desk sounding like he'd woken up five minutes ago, and called out to the clerk who hadn't changed in three years.

"Yes. You're early today. Slacking off?"

Apparently killing time by watching some stream on her mobile device — certainly not Toru's labyrinth cleanup stream — the clerk, Kawai Sakiho, said flatly.

At a glance, she gave off the impression of someone who could actually do her job, but Toru had never seen her display any motivation or competence.

"Felt a weird sound partway through the third floor, so I came back to report it. Could just be my own body acting up, but anyway, there was this... keeen... kinda thing, a sound like ringing ears. Started around the four hour thirty-two minute mark of the stream."

"Huh. Good work."

Kawai said, showing absolutely no interest.

They'd been dealing with each other for three years now, but she'd shown even a hint of kindness maybe five times since they first met. After that, it was nothing but the condescending treatment naturally directed at a rock-bottom cleaner.

He'd been complained to about his work performance a few times, which was why he'd started streaming — to leave evidence that he was actually cleaning up monsters. And this had come in handy more than once.

He didn't know why, but he'd been falsely accused of "fudging his monster kill count," and by presenting the stream as evidence, he'd gotten them to retract the claim. Kawai had looked like she'd been terribly wronged on that occasion — but that was Toru's line to say.

Why should a rock-bottom cleaner get chewed out for earnestly grinding trash mobs on the labyrinth's upper floors every single day?

So while Toru had never expected any genuine help to begin with, he still needed to maintain the formality of having filed a report. After all, as someone they could conveniently pin the blame on whenever something went wrong, Hayasaka Toru was a handy scapegoat.

"Anyway, I've filed my report. So, the usual — buyback of the 'magic cores,' if you please. I'll return the whole streaming setup too."

Saying so, he placed the waist pouch packed with rice-grain-sized "magic cores" on the counter. Kawai looked at it the way someone would look at roadside trash, then shot Toru a glare.

"I say this every time, but your kill count is suspicious, Hayasaka-san. You're supposed to be below D-rank, aren't you? By any measure, that's D-rank or higher kill count and speed. You're not cheating, are you?"

"I've shown proof I'm not, plenty of times."

"Was that so? I don't remember."

The nerve of her saying that with a straight face was beyond Toru's comprehension.

He figured she probably had something eating at her and was taking it out on Toru. Like being assigned to a labyrinth branch office where nobody came except cleaners, or the fact that it had been going on for three years.

She'd passed the civil service exam and landed a labyrinth-related position, only to be put in charge of a fully explored D-rank dungeon. On top of that, with no sign of a transfer in sight, it was understandable if her motivation had rotted away.

But regardless of her state of mind, being on the receiving end of false accusations was not something Toru could stomach. Being looked down on, he was used to. Having crimes fabricated against him was another story.

A cleaner was, without a doubt, the bottom of the ladder among labyrinth-related workers.

Spectacular feats of heroism were out of the question.

Swinging swords, unleashing magic, slipping through a dragon-kind's breath to lop off heads, catching an ogre's blow head-on... Toru had never become that kind of explorer.

It had been three years since his parents died, and all he'd done was pummel trash mobs with bundled rebars. Picking up rice-grain-sized "magic cores," gathering about enough to fill two sushi pieces' worth, and turning them in to the office every day.

But — he paid his taxes properly, lived his life, spent at least a little money in the economy, and even contributed to society by preventing dungeon "rampages" as a cleaner.

Nobody had any right to complain about him.

He had no intention of walking around boasting, but he had no reason to live apologetically either.

"Alright then, I've filed my report, and today's work is done. Later."

Kawai didn't even reply as Toru turned on his heel.

Glancing back, he saw she'd already returned to her "job" of watching streams on her mobile device.

Whatever.

◇◇◇

He drove his compact car back to his rundown apartment, and since he got home earlier than usual, he decided to boot up his personal device and check the labyrinth stream's channel.

Toru had gone out of his way to create his own account on the biggest video streaming site, set up a channel, and spent two and a half years broadcasting the utterly unchanging spectacle of his cleanup work.

Naturally, his subscriber count was in the single digits — it was a complete mystery who on earth had even subscribed — and nearly all the stream archives went unwatched.

On the rare occasion a comment popped up, he'd dutifully reply, or delete it if it was spam. That was the extent of his channel management.

Today was no different.

He let out a sigh, and since he already had the device open anyway, he clicked on one of the videos the streaming site recommended.

〈Hey there! I'm Saito Megumi from the A-rank explorer clan "Anthem"! Our next expedition will take us into a B-rank dungeon in XX Prefecture!〉

A girl about Toru's age flashed a radiant smile at the camera.

A face he saw often on TV too. They were a group that streamed their dungeon explorations, and every main member was A-rank or higher.

On top of that, they were all women, all beautiful — a group seemingly blessed by the gods.

Apparently it was a request from the prefecture — they wanted the group to dive into the lower floors of a B-rank dungeon whose exploration had stalled for a while and push the conquest forward. Compared to what Toru made as a cleaner, the kind of money involved was probably the difference between heaven and earth.

〈Right now we're staying at a hotel in the prefectural capital, and the food is seriously so good — Airi even said she thinks she's gonna get fat — ah, don't use that part, okay? What, no? Ahaha... anyway, it was delicious!〉

She seemed to be good friends with the person behind the camera too, and the A-rank idol explorer wore a bright, cheerful smile. Anyone looking at her would immediately conclude "this person has no major complaints about life" — that was the kind of expression she wore, and the way she spoke.

To put it simply, she was radiant.

"...Oh, XX Prefecture — that's right around here. A B-rank dungeon... that's probably pretty close to the Sugai Dungeon... Kamioka Dungeon, was it...?"

That said, there was no telling exactly when the "next time" Saito Megumi mentioned in the video was. Normally, you'd assume the video had already been filmed long ago, but there was a chance they planned to livestream the labyrinth exploration.

Either way, for Toru, this was a world far removed from his own.

With their blessed luck, talent, and ability, they would walk in the light. Explorers with that level of media exposure wouldn't undertake reckless expeditions — that much was a safe bet. They'd take ample safety margins, reach depths still impossible for ordinary people, and bring all sorts of benefits to humanity.

"Well, stay safe and do your best out there."

The somewhat sarcastic line slipped out of his mouth, but he meant it.

It'd be a lie to say he didn't feel something like jealousy toward girls who were so dazzlingly different from himself — but he didn't want to see them destroyed, either. They could go on shining in some place he'd never know. That was fine.

He wouldn't go out of his way to celebrate for them, but he didn't resent them either.

A rock-bottom guy like him doing that would be the end, Toru thought.

"Good grief."

He sighed out loud on purpose, then rummaged through the fridge to make dinner. A grown man with no real hobbies who's lived alone long enough eventually drifts into cooking. These days, all you had to do was browse a streaming site and some chef would teach you how.

"Looks like the neighbor's... not going to work today either..."

Catching the sounds of daily life through the wall, he muttered to himself while eating pasta. Then he turned on the TV — not that he was particularly interested — killed some time lounging around, took a shower before the drowsiness hit, laid out tomorrow's work clothes, and flopped onto his bed.

This was Hayasaka Toru's everyday life.

—Until that day.