Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?, Vol. 2

by Fujino Omori

  Prologue

  WEAKLING’S GRIN

  Supporter: a noncombatant, dungeon-prowling party member.

  Their main role is to collect magic stones and dropped items after battle and bring them safely to the surface.

  They shoulder the load behind the action so that party members fighting monsters on the front lines aren’t weighed down more than necessary.

  In short, supporters are just porters. They carry the loot.

  “What the hell are ya doing?! Move yer ass!”

  Business as usual today. More verbal abuse.

  A male adventurer angrily yelled at a supporter just a few steps behind him, who was almost hidden under the shadow of a massive, bulging backpack.

  They were in a labyrinth where the only thing that wasn’t a problem was finding sufficient lighting.

  The man’s voice was full of unhidden contempt as he railed on his supporter. “At least carry my stuff properly, ya good-for-nothin’—!”

  This was nothing new, just more of the same porter abuse this particular supporter had heard quite enough of.

  But arrogant words could sometimes lead to violence. Adventurers are above supporters and feel nothing for those they outrank.

  Adventurers don’t even give them a second glance.

  In fact, supporters who fall behind are mocked and become the butt of jokes told later on.

  Adventurers’ cruelty to anyone weaker than themselves knows no bounds.

  They can take money, dignity, hope—everything.

  This particular supporter had heard these words somewhere:

  First, an adventurer could not reach their full potential without a good supporter.

  Second, it was the efforts of supporters that allowed adventurers to prowl the dungeon.

  Third, supporters had a hidden strength within.

  They were very pretty words, and very easy to accept. They stood to reason. They felt true.

  Supporters filled the important role of lightening the strain on adventurers. No one could refute this fact.

  “Like hell I’m gonna pay a lazy-ass weakling who holds me back!”

  But just how many adventurers were there who could even begin to comprehend these facts?

  Where were the admirable adventurers who appreciated how much supporters did for them?

  Did an adventurer who didn’t look down with contempt on a supporter who is lagging behind even exist?

  “Listen up! Ya better do your job if we get surrounded, clear?! Useless friggin’ supporter!”

  Supporters made excellent decoys when being chased by monsters.

  The supporter looked up at the honorable adventurer who so honestly made his expectations known, and lightly smiled.

  Yes, yes.

  They weren’t that hard to understand, really.

  All adventurers were the same.

  Chapter 1

  DATE, THEN SUPPORTER

  Crunch, crunch comes the sound of something chewing the earth.

  Light spills down from the ceiling, lighting up the pale green walls in every direction around me. I’m standing in a square space within the dungeon simply called a “room.”

  I’ve got the Divine Knife from Hestia aimed at the ground chewer, the blade coming out the bottom of my hand.

  The thing has four legs, two thin arms, and two big eyes. Its body looks like a giant red ant.

  What makes it different from a normal ant is that it’s as tall as I am when it hoists its upper body up, pivoting around its hunched-over midsection.

  A killer ant.

  It’s a monster that first shows up on lower level seven. I’ve heard that it’s called a “newbie killer,” just like the Wall Shadow on the sixth level.

  It got that nickname due to its thick skin and strength that puts lower-level monsters like goblins to shame. The killer ant’s skin is so tough that it might as well be armor. Halfhearted attacks bounce right off the living shell, and piercing that outer layer is no easy task.

  There are four sharp claws at the ends of its arms. Warped and curved, the deadly weapons dangling in front of its body give me the creeps.

  Those claws carve people up before they can break through the ant’s defenses. That’s the usual pattern.

  Adventurers who are used to the monsters down to the fifth level don’t expect these ants to be all that smart, and tend to become said ant’s afternoon snack.

  “Gegii!”

  Click, click, click. The killer ant snaps its mandibles together, chewing the air.

  One more thing—this monster can summon other buddies. It doesn’t call out to them but releases some kind of pheromone that humans can’t smell to gather its friends. I hear it happens when they’re in a pinch.

  It’s a handy combination of toughness and teamwork. But for an adventurer, it’s a recipe for disaster.

  Anyway, I have to take it out fast. A quick strike to a vital spot is my best bet.

  The ant and I stare each other down, both of us taking a few steps forward.

  “—Yah!”

  I make the first move. Absorbing the first blow and counterattacking really isn’t my thing.

  It charges right at me, its right arm raised high. I meet it head-on, jumping in close to its body.

  I catch a flash of a white arc out of the corner of my left eye—slash!

  I’m just a blink faster. The monster’s claws, along with a good part of its arm, go flying.

  “Giii!!!!”

  The monster’s right side, its arm—and weapons—are gone. Its shrieks of pain fill my ears as I brace the Divine Knife for impact.

  The recommended method for killing a killer ant is to aim for the space between the solid shells at the joints, to hit the soft flesh beneath. It might be hard for a newbie adventurer to pull off, but at least that’s the theory.

  However, I’ve decided to ignore that.

  No arm—and no weapon—means its defenses are weak on the right side. I jam the jet-black blade between its head and thorax.

  “—”

  I can feel the thick skin around its neck tear as my blade passes through.

  The feeling doesn’t last long. The blade glides through the monster’s flesh without much resistance. All that’s left is to finish it off with a flick of the wrist.

  Shing! The blade hits a good note as it slides out from under the ant’s neck, sending its head flying to the ground.

  A purple liquid dribbles out of the open wound, an insectoid expression of surprise at this turn of events still on the monster’s head as it crashes to the dungeon floor.

  The headless body stands there for a moment, not realizing something is missing. A few breaths later, it notices and falls like a bag of rocks.

  “…Yep, that was good!”

  I flick the purple goo off the Divine Knife before taking a closer look at it.

  It fits perfectly in the palm of my hand. It’s almost like we grew up together, or it grew into my hand.

  Its potency, too, leaves nothing to be desired. The blade cut through that killer ant’s armor like a hot knife through butter.

  Amazing! This is the strength of a Hephaistos-made weapon!

  A gift from my goddess!

  “—”

  With the look of a kid who just got a new toy, I set to work on the slain monster to get the magic stone within its chest.

  In reality, I’m not all that different from a child. I feel like I did on my birthday when Gramps gave me Dungeon Oratoria, a picture book filled with images of famous heroes. It was so special to me, I was afraid to open it at first for fear that it would get dirty.


  Of course this present would be wasted if I didn’t use it, but the feeling is the same.

  Thank you, Goddess…

  I smile as her face floats into my mind. She’s been so busy lately; I’ll have to find time to thank her properly.

  I will get strong. Strong enough to be worthy of this weapon—strong enough to make my goddess proud.

  Returning the blade to the sheath tucked into my lower back, I set off to find my next target on the seventh level.

  “What floor?!”

  “Agh!” Bell let out a scream. The cause of his pathetic squeal was a frowning Eina Tulle fuming with anger and glaring right at him.

  Bell had made a triumphant return to the Guild after prowling the seventh floor with the assistance of Hestia’s Knife. He’d gotten the money from all of his magic stones and drop items at the Exchange and went to give his adviser an update with a big smile on his face. But the second he said, “Seventh level,” his good mood came to an abrupt end.

  “What is with you?! Does nothing I say stay inside that thick skull of yours?! Going from the fifth to the seventh?! Are you insane?!”

  “S-s-s-s-ssorry!”

  Wham! Eina slammed both of her hands down onto the table. Her emerald eyes burned, her head leaning to the side. Bell was little more than a frog being stared down by a python.

  Eina was angry because Bell was showing no concern for his safety and lightheartedly entering deeper floors. He was adventuring, and it was that with which she took exception.

  “Tell me, just who was it that was nearly killed by a Minotaur only one week ago?”

  “Uh, m-me?”

  “Then just why are you doing this?! Do you not understand how dangerous it is, after all you’ve been through?!”

  “I-I’m sorry…!” Bell said, his eyes filling with tears. This was by far the angriest he had ever seen her. Eina was going all out. Her desire to keep Bell alive was turning her into an ogre.

  A newbie adventurer with not even a month of experience going deeper than the fifth was the same as suicide.

  The dungeon layout became more complicated after the fifth level, not to mention there were more powerful monsters. Bell went down to the seventh level—if the killer ant had called its friends, he wouldn’t have made it out alive. Killer ants were not a pack of Kobolds; they would tear a solo adventurer limb from limb.

  “You don’t seem to understand the word ‘dangerous.’ Not even close. I’m going to fix that, right here and now!”

  Bell let out another pitiful cry, as he had become all too familiar with Eina’s Spartan-like style of “guidance” in the past few weeks.

  Bell had seen everything she taught him in the field, but being able to say “I understand, leave it to me” to his adviser was entirely another matter. Bell rushed to explain.

  “Please, wait! I, um, grew quite a lot since then, Ms. Eina!”

  “‘Quite a lot’ is quite a claim from someone who’s only just gotten to grade H!”

  “N-no, it’s true! Several of my basic abilities are already at E!”

  “…E?”

  Eina froze on the spot, her eyes open wide.

  She didn’t understand what he said at first, but when her mind sorted it out, she raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

  “Do you think you can fool me, making that kind of claim?”

  “It’s true, all of it! Maybe I’m in some kind of growth spurt, but I’m getting stronger very fast!”

  “…Really?”

  Eina cast her bewildered gaze at Bell as he nodded with all his might.

  She hadn’t been his adviser long, but she was able to tell when the boy in front of her was lying.

  And according to her intuition, Bell was telling the truth.

  “…Really, E?”

  “Y-yes.”

  Eina put up her hands, palms forward, as if to say “wait a minute.”

  The remaining grades were S, A, B, C, D, then E. She counted them out on her fingers, nodding to herself, saying, “Hmmmm.” One more time—S, A, B, C, D, E…six again. Same as before.

  Eina was now officially confused. She didn’t completely doubt Bell, but that rate of growth sounded like it came out of a horror story.

  Eina had guessed grade H because that was the highest ability level for adventurers with Bell’s amount of experience. H was the highest believable amount of growth over that span of time, and that was only for the really gifted individuals.

  G was already ridiculous, and anything above F…That was just too fast, no matter how she thought about it.

  If Bell had been a warrior before he’d become an adventurer, with combat training of some kind, then she might have been able to accept it, maybe. But he was a farmer. Still, he didn’t look like he was lying at all…

  “Hm-hm-hmmm…” Eina said as she stroked her chin with her pointer finger, not able to figure out which was true.

  Bell sat there silently, watching her as if she could explode at any moment.

  “Hey…Bell.”

  “Y-yes, ma’am?”

  “Would you mind showing me the ‘status’ on your back?”

  “…Huh?!”

  A high-pitched gasp escaped Bell’s throat as he looked at Eina’s serious face.

  “It’s not that I don’t believe what you’re saying, it’s just…”

  She looked away, shaking her hands back and forth, trying to make sure Bell didn’t get the wrong idea.

  She felt that the most reasonable explanation was that Bell’s goddess, Hestia, had made a mistake when transcribing Bell’s status.

  Or perhaps there was a misunderstanding somewhere.

  The idea that Bell had improved to grade E stats was just that inconceivable for her.

  Eina wasn’t going to believe a single word out of Bell’s mouth until she saw undeniable proof.

  “B-but the number one thing that adventurers aren’t supposed to reveal is their status…right?”

  All the city’s adventurers were under the jurisdiction of the Guild and were forbidden from giving out personal information to anyone, including Guild employees. Their levels and Familias were reported, but nothing more than that.

  There were also adventurers who had special skills and magic. The relationships of the gods and their Familias were constantly changing. Today’s friend might be tomorrow’s foe. Information was tightly protected to cover potential weaknesses.

  “I give you my word that I will not tell a soul what I will see. I’ll take full responsibility if your status becomes public. If that happens, I swear I will obey you.”

  “Obey…? Hang on, Ms. Eina, you can read hieroglyphics?”

  “Yes, but only a little. I think I can read enough to understand statuses, though.”

  Eina had attended her fair share of school and had excelled in theological studies. She could certainly read and write simple hieroglyphs.

  “If I don’t see it with my own two eyes, I will never clear you to go deeper than the fifth level.”

  “That definitely would cause a lot of problems for me…”

  “I promise I won’t look at your magic or skill slots, so, please?”

  “I don’t have any skills or magic anyway, so that wouldn’t change a thing…but okay.”

  Bell gave in to Eina’s request as she bowed forward and clapped her hands together.

  Eina had done so much to support Bell in the past; he felt that she deserved his complete trust, just like Hestia. Bell had no reason not to take her at her word.

  “Well, um…I’ll take off my clothes now?”

  “If you’re embarrassed enough to blush, don’t check with me first! You’ll make me uncomfortable, too!”

  Both of their cheeks flushed red as Bell stood up and faced a far corner of the wide room. A flustered Bell unhooked his armor and quickly pulled off his undershirt.

  Rather than immediately focusing on the status engraved on the boy’s back, Eina’s eyes were drawn to his remarkably chiseled back mus
cles for a brief moment. Shaking her head a bit, she forced her eyes back to the hieroglyphs.

  Her pointed ears turned a light shade of red as her eyes scanned the markings left to right.

  Bell Cranell

  Level One

  Strength: E-403 Defense: H-199 Utility: E-412 Agility: D-521 Magic: I-0

  No way…

  She couldn’t believe her eyes; her jaw dropped slightly in shock.

  With the exception of Magic, he was definitely strong enough to keep up with monsters on the seventh level. Eina tended to judge adventurers by their defensive ability, so Bell’s low “Defense” grade made her a bit nervous. However, his hit-and-run combat style fit very well with his ability levels, so she came to the conclusion that he dodged most attacks anyway.

  The fact that his “Agility” was already at grade D made her a little nauseous.

  I can’t believe it…

  Eina lightly coughed in her throat. It was the sound of her concept of “common sense” being broken; a cold chill worked its way up her spine. Working at the Guild and advising many adventurers, Eina knew just how abnormal Bell’s growth rate was.

  His growth was more than through the roof. It was otherworldly.

  —A Skill?

  The possibility popped up in the back of her mind.

  Maybe he has a Skill that explains the unusual growth, she thought to herself with a twinge. The only way to check…was to go back on her promise.

  If it’s just a quick look…

  Her eyes glanced below Bell’s abilities and took in the hieroglyphs.

  Where Bell’s Magic and Skills were listed.

  She had already come this far. It was too late to look away now. Wanting to know what was inside a treasure box after peeking through the lid must be a trait of demi-humans.

  Her curiosity was piqued; she looked at all his Skill slot.

  …Ahh, nope.

  She couldn’t understand what was written.

  The amount of complex characters was too much for her to make heads or tails of it.

  It could be that his goddess, the overprotective Hestia, might have put an extra layer of protection over his status so that others couldn’t read it even if they had a chance. Eina didn’t have a full understanding of hieroglyphs’ size and stroke order, and she didn’t realize that Hestia’s “protection” was actually just her own bad handwriting.