Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon - Vol. 03

by Hirukuma,

  “Well, I guess so. Come to think of it, the captain said something about bringing the search-team members today.”

  Oh, so we’ll finally be starting this search for the King of Souls in earnest. I wonder who else will be joining us aside from the usual Menagerie of Fools members. There are a lot of undead types here, so maybe it will be a monk or a priest. A nun would be good, too.

  As far as I’m aware, the healing jobs in this world go to the people with Blessings that can heal wounds. The old lady who always comes to me early in the morning has such a Blessing, I’ve heard.

  Apparently, there is wound-healing magic, too, so personally, I’m hoping for a kind, capable woman or a warrior-priest man.

  “Oh, here you are. I brought our search team today.”

  That voice must be Captain Kerioyl. He seems to have been looking for us while we were out and about for special training.

  The two girls turn around, and I direct my view at the captain as well.

  Behind the captain are the eating-contest participants: short-haired Shui the Inhaler as well as the four from the Band of Gluttons. The red-and-white twins are also here. Until this point, the members are the same as always, but there is someone else.

  “I’m happy to see you again, Boxxo. And Lammis and Hulemy as well.”

  Jet-black armor and a cool smile. Wait, Mishuel is coming with us, too? I’ve no protest in terms of his combat strength, but… Will his social anxiety be all right with this many people around?

  “You all know Mishuel, right? He’ll be joining the Menagerie of Fools as a trial run. This is the Reclusive Black Flash we’re talking about, so we’d be happy to have him. But he wants to get a clear view of our team during this expedition first. Right, Mishuel?”

  “Oh, no. I simply want to know that I won’t hold the rest of you back—and that I can cooperate with you all without an issue.”

  He looks like he’s being modest, but he’s serious about the second half, a fact that only I know. He seems to be replying in a normal way right now, but I bet he’s sweating in nervousness in that armor.

  He appears to be the only newcomer. Are there no cleric jobs in this world? That’s kind of a shame.

  “All right, then let’s find a shop and I’ll explain the expedition and give an overview of what we’ll be doing,” says the captain.

  Prompted by him, we all enter a nearby eating house.

  It’s not lunchtime yet, so there are no other customers in the midsize store, and the only employee who seems to be here looks like she’s at a loss at our group’s sudden entrance.

  “Sorry for the crowd. Can we rent the place out for a while?”

  The captain flips a gold coin with his thumb and hands it to the waitress who came running up.

  As soon as she sees it, her attitude does a one-eighty. She leads us to a large, round table in the back of the store, then goes to put some kind of signboard in front of the entrance door. It probably has something like RESERVED written on it.

  Everyone takes their seats, placing me at the table as well, after taking out a chair.

  “Get us whatever food and drinks you got. Ah, all right, the five of you need to stop giving me that greedy look. I get it. I’ll order a lot.”

  With Shui and the Band of Gluttons staring at him through teary eyes, the captain makes a large order. With those five, our Engel’s coefficient shoots through the roof. I’d think we’d be welcome customers in any restaurant.

  “Now then, you can eat while you listen. Our mission is to find the King of Souls and send him to his grave. Oh, and the vice captain is on another assignment for personal reasons.”

  “The vice captain gets scared easily, after all,” remarks Shui.

  “I bet I know. She’s too embarrassed to let the captain see her being scared.”

  “Are you serious, White? I had no idea the vice captain had such a cute side to her.”

  The Fools’s whispering among themselves immediately elucidates the reason for the vice captain’s absence. Same as Lammis, in other words. Strong-minded people tend to be weaker to ghost stories, after all.

  Still, without the calm-and-collected adviser here, I’m starting to worry about this expedition. Who’s going to manage us?

  “Incidentally,” continues the captain, “I asked for the Band of Gluttons to help because the atmosphere here won’t affect them, and they’re skilled at reconnaissance.”

  “I don’t really get it, but I hear humans are scared of dark places, corpse fiends, skeleton fiends, and soul fiends,” says Pell. “We don’t know what that feels like.”

  “The corpse fiends smell bad, though,” puts in Mikenne. “Like rotten meat. It makes me lose my appetite.”

  Pell nods at Mikenne’s remark and scowls. I guess humans and beast people naturally find different things scary. Thinking about it that way, the Band of Gluttons are an appropriate choice.

  Plus, they have good ears and noses. And the speed to make a quick getaway. You could call them fairly valuable assets.

  “We’ll be searching over a wide area, and it will be dark around us,” says the captain. “Their low-light vision will be invaluable.”

  If I recall correctly, Tasmanian devils are nocturnal… Yeah, maybe they’re ideal for this.

  “And I dragged Shui, Red, and White along against their wills.”

  “You’re a tyrant!” cries Shui. “I’m weak to scary things, too!”

  “I’m not particularly good with them, either!”

  “Yeah, me either!”

  As his team members continue complaining incessantly, Captain Kerioyl gives them a satisfied grin and flatly says, “You don’t have the right to refuse.”

  The members, not to be outdone, shower him with insults, and the conversation turns into an ugly argument. We’re used to them being at odds, so Lammis and the others don’t bother trying to stop them. Instead, they keep quiet and eat their food.

  Mishuel doesn’t seem to understand the situation, but he also doesn’t seem to have the courage to interrupt. He’s frozen in place, a forced smile plastered on his face.

  After a while, the Fools seem to exhaust their vocabularies, and breathing heavily, they sit down deep in their chairs.

  “Anyway, back to the subject. Most of the enemies in the Dead’s Lament stratum are corpse fiends, skeleton fiends, flame scolls, and soul fiends. Would you mind explaining what they are, Hulemy?”

  “Sure, leave it to me. We fought a lot of flame scolls in the Labyrinth stratum, so I don’t need to go over those. Wait, Mishuel, do you need an explanation on them?”

  “No, I’m fine. Please, continue.”

  “All right. First up are corpse fiends. As the name implies, they’re dead humans who can move around. For some, what little flesh they do have left is completely rotten, but others don’t look that different from living humans. They’re typically slow but powerful. Be sure not to let one grapple with or bite you.”

  In other words, we’re dealing with zombies. In horror movies, if you get bitten, the disease always spreads. She didn’t mention anything like that, though, so we shouldn’t have to worry about it.

  “Skeleton fiends are moving skeleton types. All their skin has fallen off, and some researchers suggest they’re the end result of corpse fiends, but I subscribe to a different— Er, that’s not important. They’re fast-moving but not very strong. They’re basically the complete opposite of corpse fiends.”

  Yeah, skeletons are pretty weak. I remember a certain movie where skeleton enemies got destroyed easily. Hulemy’s voice isn’t nervous; she talks as though they’re small fries.

  “Last are the soul fiends. Their bodies are transparent, and direct attacks won’t work on them. They may seem like trouble, but they’re weak to light. You can destroy them easily by shining any strong light on them. They won’t even come near you if you have a lantern. Holy magic items and magic do the trick as well.”

  Is that right? They won’t be coming after me, t
hen. I should probably turn my brightness up to its maximum setting at night.

  “Well, those are the monsters that appear frequently, but stronger versions of them, as well as other monsters, have been spotted here before—though not many. Don’t let your guards down.”

  “Thanks for the explanation. With you here, we thankfully don’t have to spend too much time gathering intel. We plan on leaving first thing tomorrow morning. I want everyone ready by then. At first, we’ll spend half a day searching and go back to the settlement. Then we repeat the process. Won’t need many supplies in that case, after all.”

  We’ll be doing day trips at first? When I think of Lammis, that seems like a good plan. Monsters are stronger at night, and getting information on our enemies would be best on day trips.

  As I think it over, I look to my side and see Lammis, her fingers digging into my body, nodding again and again like a malfunctioning machine.

  Is…is she going to be okay tomorrow?

  Corpse Fiend

  Our big group, consisting of eleven people and one machine—my vending machine self, Lammis, Hulemy, Captain Kerioyl, Shui, the red-and-white twins, the Band of Gluttons, and Mishuel—is on the hunt. We also have the hooded buar cart with us.

  We leave the settlement feeling optimistic that, with so many people, Lammis will never be scared.

  “This place is as frightening as always,” says the captain.

  “I just remembered something I have to do, so let’s go home, White.”

  “Yeah, Red.”

  “I forgot something at the inn!”

  The Menagerie of Fools members all make an about-face and attempt to go back before the captain catches them. They’re probably doing it half jokingly, but they’re still pretty serious about it, too. It goes to show how atmospheric our surroundings are.

  This barren wasteland, devoid of a single blade of grass, is littered with gravestones. Not clean-looking ones, either. I haven’t seen any that have retained their original shape.

  There are dead, leafless trees in all directions, but looped, thick straw ropes bundle up the ends of their branches, swaying in the wind.

  …It’s got the aesthetic. Old armor and weapons, perhaps the remains of hunters, also lie on the ground, racking up even more spooky points for this area.

  Thunder cracks occasionally, too, and I have to give credit to the lightning’s performance as well.

  Anyway, while I mentally critique the place, I assess the members of the reconnaissance team. The only calm ones are Captain Kerioyl, Hulemy, and the Band of Gluttons.

  “Why did they put gravestones outside the settlement?”

  “Hmm, yeah, Mikenne. Why is that?”

  “Mikenne, Short, you don’t know, either, huh? I bet they did it on a whim.”

  “Maybe… But if you left grave offerings, they’d just go to waste. The monsters would eat them.”

  The Band of Gluttons certainly don’t seem to have the same sense of fear humans do. They’re not scared at all. In this sort of situation, they’re extremely reliable.

  “Apparently, if you die in this part of the dungeon, your very own grave appears all on its own. They’re even nice enough to automatically carve your name into it.”

  Hulemy isn’t bothered, either. She strides over to a gravestone, relaxed enough to wipe off the dust and look at the name on it with intense interest.

  Mishuel’s smile is firmly stuck to his face, and it’s not budging. One might be impressed at how unruffled and calm he seems at a glance, but his pupils are dilated, and he’s staring at a single fixed point. Is he actually petrified with fear?

  Lammis, carrying me on her back, keeps her eyes on the ground, keeping any damage to her mental state to a minimum.

  “You’re all overreacting,” says the captain. “It’s a little bit chilly out here, but that’s it. Real people are way scarier than some dumb corpses or monsters. Don’t let the atmosphere get the better of you.”

  The Fools clench their jaws and firm their resolve, though their faces are still pale with terror.

  Mishuel snaps out of it and clears his throat, once again donning his cool, composed smile.

  They were unnerved for a bit, but they’ve gone right back to normal, so it probably won’t be an issue. Lammis is still staring at the ground, so we can’t expect anything from her in combat, but if she’s just in charge of carrying stuff, she’ll be fine. I hope.

  Captain Kerioyl sighs. “Well anyway, let’s not worry so much about the destination today.” He takes off his hat, an unusual gesture, and scratches his head. He’s probably annoyed by the many difficulties he sees us having in the future, and I can’t say I blame him.

  If the Band of Gluttons turn out to be the most reliable in this situation, I’d want to sigh about it, too.

  We wander about, mostly at random at the captain’s instructions. The enemy-encounter rate is fairly high. Just strolling around for thirty minutes, we run into over ten monsters to fight.

  And just as I’m reflecting on it, more appear.

  The ground swells, and a white-boned arm comes out of it, its flesh appearing to be in the middle of some very important rotting.

  Other arms and skulls, already dry bones, push their way out of the earth as well, following the rules and coming out close to gravestones.

  It looks like zombies—or rather, corpse fiends and skeleton fiends—but four are destroyed with ranged attacks before Lammis can take a breath, and before the other four bring themselves all the way up out of the ground, the Band of Gluttons close in and crush them with fang and claw. It would seem our great army is invincible.

  I understand it’s an efficient way to defeat them, but I feel a little bad for them.

  Despite their earlier fear, the Menagerie of Fools move crisply and accurately during battle. Mishuel does, too—when a battle starts, he activates his hot-guy mode without issue.

  Which just leaves Lammis. When enemies appear, she holds her breath and freezes, but she doesn’t cry out or try to run. Personally, I think she’s come quite a long way.

  Enemies continue to go down pretty easily after that, but Lammis seems to be concentrating fully on carrying me and never takes part in a battle.

  The party returns to the settlement before night falls and quickly withdraws into the inn.

  As always, I sit outside, staring idly at a night sky with no visible stars in it.

  After learning the monsters here wouldn’t do me any harm, I’ve been treating myself to bouts of monster watching at night during my spare time. Moodwise, it feels like sitting in an expensive chair, wineglass in hand, watching a horror film.

  Never learning their lessons, the monsters wander through the settlement again tonight, peering into windows with light coming from them. After observing for a few days, I realize that despite their unchanging expressions, it’s started to look to me like they’re staring into the rooms with envy for some reason.

  Rumor has it that these monsters, unlike normal ones, are based on people who have died. Maybe I can’t discount the idea as nonsense.

  “Ahhh, ah, ah, ahhhhh.”

  While I’m ruminating, I hear a voice from very close by, so I immediately look ahead.

  It must have closed the distance quickly before I knew it. Now I’m face-to-rotting-face with an honest-to-goodness zombie, flesh peeling and one eyeball about to fall out.

  Ah, yeah, okay, it being this close is a little rough. It’s illuminated by the light emitted from my body, too, and its crisp shadow adds to its impact.

  Instinctively, I try to cry out, but I end up saying, “Insert coins.” I hate this body for having nothing but canned phrases to say at times like this.

  Hearing the voice come from my body saying something that doesn’t fit the situation makes my shock and fear subside. To think saying it would calm me down…

  Since I’m calmed down again, I’ll take a good look at it. The thing in front of me has got to be a corpse fiend. It’s short in statur
e, so it’s probably a child.

  Maybe because I’m an unusual sight, it says “Ah, ah” and looks at me with its remaining eye. If it’s true that they’re based on people, does that mean this corpse fiend lost its life at a young age and turned into a monster?

  Just the thought makes the concept of corpse fiends a whole lot less terrifying. It doesn’t want to cause me any harm. If it’s just staring at me with childlike curiosity, then there’s no reason to be mean to it.

  Okay, stop that. Get your dirty hands off me. Fingerprints are the least of my worries when rotten flesh is sticking to me. Oh, fine, then I’ll give you this.

  I don’t know whether it can drink, but I drop orange juice, a favorite of the twin-tailed rich girl, into my compartment.

  It reacts to the clanking of the can falling, but can it not understand what it is? In that case, I’ll try flinging the orange juice out with Force Field.

  It rolls past the young corpse fiend. After reacting to it and turning around, it heads for the juice, its body swaying back and forth with an uneasy stride.

  They must be the type that gets overly distracted at noise, which is common in zombie films.

  It grabs the can of orange juice with both hands. As I watch over it and wonder what it will do about the lid, it bites into the can. Its teeth easily pierce the aluminum, and orange liquid comes out from between them, dripping onto the child corpse fiend’s body.

  It continues to chew, aluminum can and all, until it seems satisfied and goes away, disappearing into the darkness. That was an unexpected encounter, but I’ll probably never meet it again. It’s been an odd night, but strangely, I didn’t mind it.

  Our second day of searching comes to an end, and I sit outside watching the twilight.

  Like yesterday, Lammis didn’t take part in any battles, but she managed to keep her eyes looking forward and properly watching the battle. Yeah, that’s the way.

  “Ahh, ahhhhh.”

  The corpse fiends and soul fiends are springing up again. It’s like they only come to every day for a wandering nighttime walk.