ch01-ch20 · 008-ch07

Chapter 7

The stream archive footage was from the body camera issued to Hayasaka.

After Kawai Sakiho had made her harassment-like false accusations, Hayasaka submitted paperwork directly to the city stating it was necessary for his work, and as a result, the Sugai Dungeon branch office had purchased a labyrinth streaming body camera.

Sakiho found it pretty irritating, but since the request had gone through and the camera was provided, she had no choice but to lend it to Hayasaka. She'd been letting him use it for over two years now.

Even back then it hadn't been the latest equipment, but it still had pretty good image stabilization and decent magical communication strength. The selling point was that anyone could easily stream by linking it to a mobile device — but in the modern era, that was a standard feature.

"Uh... right, four hours thirty-two minutes. There's a strange sound... I think. Kind of a... keeen... a sound similar to ringing ears. It might actually just be tinnitus on my end. Still, an anomaly is an anomaly, so I'll report it. Might as well leave a comment too."

A voice that didn't convey the slightest hint of motivation rang out, and the image shook slightly. The replay of the stream chat showed only "4:32:00" written in, and the operation continued a little longer. He'd probably added the same time to the stream description too.

The image stopped moving for a while, and silence continued.

Then,

"...Is this... picking up on the mic...?"

Hayasaka muttered.

Sadoyama paused the video there, tapped the keyboard a few times, scrolled back about a minute, and turned the volume up to maximum.

When he restarted playback... sure enough, there was a keeeeeng-like tinnitus sound. It seemed like you could hear it.

But maybe it was just that the equipment noise had become noticeable enough to register because of the increased volume. Honestly, Sakiho couldn't really tell.

"...Is this... picking up on the mic...?"

Hayasaka muttered at about three times the previous volume.

Sadoyama stopped the video there and turned to face Sakiho.

"So — on that day, Hayasaka-kun ended his work early because of an anomaly, reported it to Kawai-chan, and went home. Kawai-chan decided Hayasaka-kun's report was just his imagination and buried it on your end. Is that how it went?"

His tone wasn't angry or yelling — if anything, it was soft.

Which was exactly why Sakiho had no choice but to nod honestly.

Sadoyama probably didn't expect anything from Kawai Sakiho. He didn't have the slightest expectation that scolding her would improve anything.

And since that was actually the case, she had nothing to say in her defense — but even so, somewhere in her heart, a feeling of shame and humiliation welled up. Not enough to boil over.

But it was a little... frustrating. And embarrassing.

If only Hayasaka hadn't made that strange report...

She reflexively thought that and glanced at her own device on her desk. The audio was off, but "Anthem's" stream was still going. Sakiho wanted nothing more than to end this boring ordeal as quickly as possible and get back to watching their stream.

"So Hayasaka-kun was streaming the next day too. But he's not streaming today... that's strange. He should be doing a live stream right about now..."

Sadoyama muttered to himself, ignoring Sakiho.

That's when she finally remembered.

"Ah, um... Chief. About Hayasaka-san..."

"What? Remembered something?"

"He didn't come in today. Actually... he didn't clock out yesterday either. I don't think he returned the body camera either..."

"——What?"

A hint of genuine anger escaped — just slightly, but clearly — and Sakiho nearly fainted.

Having a former A-rank explorer in front of you was more dangerous than having a brown bear in front of you. If Sadoyama felt like it, he could separate Sakiho's head from her body in an instant. He'd usually been kind enough not to make her aware of that fact.

Thinking such things, Sakiho found herself slumped on the floor without realizing it — and Sadoyama put his usual sloppy old man mask back on with a weak laugh.

"No, haha, sorry sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. But tell me more."

"I-it's, it's just as I said. Yesterday, he came to borrow the body camera like usual, reported the start of his work... and never came back."

"Why didn't you report it at that point?"

"I, I thought he was just slacking off. I mean, it's not like he had to go into the labyrinth every single day and keep killing trash on the upper floors... I thought he'd finally realized that... Besides, I have to give him the camera and get it back every day... Can't he just do that on his own? It's a contracted job...!"

The honest thoughts that spilled from her mouth drew no interest from Sadoyama whatsoever. Instead, he let out a deep sigh and held up his open palm toward Sakiho.

Shut up, he was saying.

Of course, Sakiho closed her mouth.

She wasn't stupid enough to keep talking when something more terrifying than a brown bear was telling her to be quiet.

"This is bad. This is... well, let's check yesterday's stream first. Kawai-chan, if something's happened to Hayasaka-kun, you'd better be prepared. I have no intention of protecting you."

No longer showing any interest or concern for Sakiho, Sadoyama operated the terminal.

Half in a daze, Sakiho swayed as she stood up, her eyes drawn to the stream image displayed on the monitor. The view of Sugai Dungeon from Hayasaka's body camera looked the same as always — but looking closely, it seemed like he was running.

She could hear rough breathing — haah, haah.

The volume was probably still set to maximum.

"A bit earlier, I think."

Muttering, Sadoyama scrolled the stream back a little.

As the boring trash-mob cleaning on the labyrinth's upper floors played at triple speed, Hayasaka suddenly stopped. Sadoyama returned the playback speed to normal.

"...No way."

Hayasaka muttered. Unusually for him, his tone sounded flustered.

"Three hours fourteen minutes. Found a figure at the location of the strange noise. Can't tell if it's a human or a humanoid monster. If it's a monster, it'd be weird for it to be in the upper floors of Sugai Dungeon. Could be a 'Dungeon Rampage,' or... maybe some unknown anomaly. Hell if I know."

A dutiful report — but what the camera showed at the end of the labyrinth corridor was nothing.

There was no figure.

And yet.

"...I'll confirm it. Just confirm it, then run."

There was hesitation and decision, and the image moved.

Hayasaka had started walking.

"Shit... this is definitely bad. If something happens, it's on me, isn't it..."

The irritated muttering was a tone of voice Sakiho had never heard from him before. The Hayasaka Toru she usually dealt with was completely unmotivated, speaking in a rough, obligatory way.

Paired with his work-clothes-like outfit, the impression was truly that of a bottom-tier laborer... which was exactly why Sakiho had looked down on him without reserve.

"Ah... whatever happens, it's my fault. But yesterday I reported it to the Sugai Dungeon branch office. The branch office ignored my report and didn't even pretend to investigate. Maybe I can pin a little of the responsibility on the government too."

Muttering such things, Hayasaka kept walking at a somewhat hurried pace. The screen showed no "figure," yet his steps as he turned right and left through the corridors showed no hesitation.

"If it's not showing up on camera... could it be mental interference magic? There should be some effect on the magical communicator in that case, but there's no such effect either... Even so, if he's aware of it, he should turn back properly."

Sadoyama grumbled at the screen like an old man complaining during a sports broadcast — but his expression was too serious.

He was worried... probably.

Despite acting like he couldn't care less about Sakiho's future.

About a bottom-tier cleaner like that.

"——Huh?"

Suddenly, Hayasaka let out a strange sound.

Right in the middle of a longer corridor, he stopped abruptly, and the image went back and forth between the front and back of the corridor a few times. That meant Hayasaka was checking both directions.

For a moment, Hayasaka's breath caught — it was clear even through the screen... and then the image moved again. He'd started walking.

About ten meters from where he'd stopped, he halted again and inexplicably reached out his left hand toward the wall.

No — he pushed his hand into it.

Hayasaka's left hand sank into the wall, as if melting...

"Whoa whoa whoa! No way!"

"Whoa whoa whoa... no way."

Sadoyama's involuntary outburst overlapped with Hayasaka's voice on the stream.

After a brief hesitation, Hayasaka stepped forward into the wall. For those of them watching the screen, it was like a horror movie.

Why was there a hidden passage in the upper floors of a D-rank dungeon?

There was no way Sakiho would know.

"Hey, hey, hey... stop. Turn back, will you...!"

Sadoyama's prayer-like heckling naturally didn't reach Hayasaka in the stream archive. Hayasaka continued through the narrow path beyond the wall, entering the small room at the end. A really tiny room.

On the far wall of that small room.

A framed painting, or something, was displayed.

What was that?

Sakiho wondered. Hayasaka probably thought the same, taking a step forward to check.

In that instant, the image shook violently — and the stream cut out.

That was the end of the stream archive's playback.

"The magical communication was cut off. And since there's been no contact from him, that means he's not in a position to make contact. Even if we send out a search party, explaining the situation is complicated enough, and the circumstances are a mess. We can review the stream archive footage and identify where that hidden passage is, but..."

Staring at the streaming site screen now mindlessly displaying "Recommended Videos," Sadoyama kept muttering.

He had to think of a concrete response, and he had to act on it — that was Sadoyama's position. If it came down to it, Sadoyama himself, a former A-rank explorer, would step in.

And there was nothing Sakiho could do.

She'd probably bear some responsibility, but that couldn't be helped.

...Was he dead?

She tried to recall that unmotivated face she saw every day.

But no particular feelings welled up. No strong sense of self-reproach either. She couldn't bring herself to think, "Hayasaka died because of me." Because in the footage, Hayasaka had known it was dangerous and moved anyway, claiming it was his own responsibility.

...What would happen now?

As she was vaguely thinking about that, an electronic tone rang out.

Sadoyama clicked his tongue at it, stood up, pulled his mobile device from his suit jacket pocket, and started a call.

"Yeah. Ah, on this end it's... huh? We don't have time for that? What do you... what? Seriously? 'Anthem' is being attacked by a unique monster? Oh, come on! Nothing but bad news today! Got it, I'm heading to the scene now. I'll explain our situation on the way."

Still on the call, Sadoyama turned his gaze toward Sakiho.

She couldn't help but shrink back. When a former A-rank explorer was in combat readiness without any particular concern for her, all Sakiho could do was cower in fear.

"Kawai-chan. We're putting this on hold for now. Go back to your regular duties. Let me say this just in case — I don't recommend running. Your priority level is pretty low, so we'll deal with you after everything else is sorted. If things go well, a pay cut. Worst case, dismissal. Around there."

With that, he lightly jumped over the reception counter to the outside and ran off, as if impatient even for the automatic doors to open.

Sakiho stared at the automatic doors — which would probably stay closed for a while — then her attention drifted to the mobile device she'd left on her desk.

"Did he just say... 'Anthem' was attacked...?"

He definitely had.

Her device was still showing "Anthem's" stream, and the chat was going crazy. When she turned the audio back on, she heard the sound of a girl screaming.

〈No! Airi! Airi!〉

〈Calm down, Leader! Screaming won't help! Dealing with that dragon and black knight at the same time is impossible for us alone! Sanagi-san is unconscious too!〉

〈But Airi! I know that!〉

〈We have no choice but to land a blow, rescue Mido-san, and escape. Logically, we should abandon Mido-san, but... damn, I'm green too. I can't choose that option. Leader, we're probably going to die here.〉

〈No! But — abandoning her is wrong too! Chizuru, please... I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Chizuru. A leader like me...〉

〈It's because of a leader like you that we made it this far. Hold your head high.〉

Something... some kind of situation was unfolding.

The camera was fixed on the ceiling of a large hall, not moving. Apparently the cameraperson had passed out and the camera had been thrown aside.

"Shitshitshit" "This is seriously wrong. Those aren't B-rank dungeon monsters" "Even for a unique, two at once?" "Run away! Please!" "It's not Megumi-chan's fault! Run! You'll all die!"

The comments that caught her eye in the chat were a scene of utter chaos. Sakiho didn't know who watched "Anthem's" streams on weekday afternoons, but the viewer count was already much higher than their prime-time streams.

Probably — the moment their crisis hit, word spread online and the viewership exploded. And it was happening right now.

When "Anthem" started streaming in the morning, the concurrent viewer count was about twelve hundred.

When she turned the audio back on, it was probably around twenty-five thousand.

Now — it was over thirty thousand.

More than thirty thousand viewers were about to witness their deaths.

"...What is this..."

This morning, it was just another ordinary day.

How did it come to this —.

The comments kept flowing, the image remained still. She could tell from the audio alone that the "Anthem" members had started moving.

And then — light.

Dazzling enough to turn the screen completely white.

Next, a thunderous roar like an earthquake rumbled through.

What had happened...?

〈Ohh, this looks like an expensive camera. Is it streaming?〉

Suddenly — that unmotivated voice she always heard rang out.

The voice she'd just heard in the footage.

At the other end of the camera as it was picked up, a man in work clothes was visible.

Hayasaka, Toru.