Long Time No See, Senior
Jewels set into the corridor floor glittered ominously in the silence.
Each one stood at regular intervals like streetlamps, leaving gaps between them where darkness could pool at any moment—perfect places for a monster to hide.
Minel slowed his pace and scanned every direction with care. He refused to relax around the shadows between the bricks, the gloom along the ceiling, or even the smallest puddles on the floor.
Hina followed close behind, examining their surroundings with meticulous thoroughness. Though she could not bring her full combat strength to bear, her sharp observational instincts still supported Minel.
Chori walked between them, eyes sparkling as she took in the dungeon. Everything she saw was a wonder in itself, yet she forced her curiosity down.
“Don’t tense up too much.”
“I understand.”
“Okay.”
The dungeon did not run in a simple straight line. Stone-carved archways appeared from time to time; beyond them, stone staircases stretched deep into the dark as though untouched for decades. Some doors had already half-collapsed, raining stone dust the moment anyone tried to step inside. Others opened onto mysterious lakes whose surfaces lay still, yet silver light welled up from the depths and rippled across the water, illuminating the dungeon’s interior.
Minel never lingered long on those sights. The more beautiful the scenery, the more likely it was a trap.
Then, from the far end of the corridor, a low, breath-like growl seeped out.
“Grrrrrr.”
“Grrrrrr.”
Two yellow eyes flashed in the darkness. Hounds—almost welcome by now.
Minel immediately raised a hand, stopping the others. He sensed a faint current of air flowing along the wall: a ventilation-like gap in the dungeon. The sound of hounds prowling and sniffing drew nearer.
The hounds themselves were not the problem. The variables that would appear once a fight began were.
Minel did not retreat. He lowered himself, pressed a hand to the floor, and carefully studied the point where the jewel-light on the opposite side bent slightly. A draft often slipped through there—unsuitable for a hound’s nose. He moved with deliberate care, skirting the zone of darkness and keeping the wind at his back so his scent stayed hidden.
Moments later a hound’s long foreleg thrust out of the shadows, but it followed the path Minel had predicted and passed them by.
“Hah…”
Hina released a nearly inaudible breath; Chori clutched the hem of Minel’s clothes. Minel’s face, however, showed not the slightest tremor. His eyes only grew colder.
“Let’s go.”
A little farther on, traces of a Clump appeared. A metal-like arm jutted from the corridor ceiling and hung limp; drag marks scored the floor. The walls were deeply gouged as if by claws, black ichor hardened in every crack.
Chori instinctively stepped back, but Minel raised a hand to stop her. He recalled the entries in the Backrooms Codex: Clumps preferred ambush, so as long as you kept your distance you were fine.
He led the party along the trail of jewel-light, never straying an inch. Sometimes they had to press sideways against the wall; sometimes they had to leap the gaps between jewels. Once a Clump’s arm suddenly tore through a wall and lashed out, but Minel, already expecting it, did not even flinch. The fingers that burst from the shadows clawed empty air and withdrew.
The journey toward the merchant felt like walking through someone else’s dream. Pillared halls, patterns carved into the walls, clear water cascading between stone steps. Crystal-like ores hung from the ceiling and shone like a galaxy; dust motes rose through that light and scattered like star-clusters. Scenery beautiful enough to intoxicate just by looking at it—and within it, monsters ready to take a life at any moment.
Minel thoroughly excluded every aesthetic impression and continued only his calculations.
The dungeon seemed endless, yet after a long time they finally reached a wide space that opened when one wall swung aside. The jewels in the ceiling blazed brighter here, bathing everything in golden light as though illuminating a marketplace. At its center, beneath a large tent, boxes and bundles stood piled high, and a single silhouette sat among them.
The merchant they had seen on the first floor.
But the face was slightly different.
The merchant slowly turned and regarded Minel’s party.
“It’s been a while.”
The voice was high and thin, like a woman’s—softer than the first-floor merchant’s.
Minel stepped closer. A faint smile rested on the face; it was unmistakably female.
“Have you seen me before?”
“You bought a unique item from us for a mere fifty Blood Crystals. Someone like that is hard to forget.”
The first-floor merchant had also referred to themselves as “us.” They said every merchant shared a single consciousness, and she spoke as though she herself had sold the item.
Minel swept his gaze around the tent. At a glance the goods looked casually tossed about, yet a closer look showed the weapons carefully arranged so they would not nick one another.
The first thing that caught his eye was an old iron sword. Countless nicks and several chips marred the blade, yet when light struck it a silver flash still seemed to hold the clamor of past battlefields. Beside it lay a nearly unadorned club—solid oak studded thick with iron nails, the kind of weapon that would deal lethal force with nothing more than a crude swing. Another heap held a long spear whose blade curved gracefully and whose shaft had been polished smooth by a user’s grip. Next to it rested an unfamiliar mace whose hexagonal head looked ready to crack even iron walls.
On the abandoned-office first floor such things had felt utterly alien; here in the dungeon they somehow fit.
Then something seized Minel’s attention completely.
“A shield? You sell shields too?”
The shield he pointed at was far more ornate than the other weapons. A dragon was carved across its face, and golden remnants still glimmered faintly along the rim.
The merchant slowly turned her head, regarded the shield, and smiled.
“Extremely useful where firearms are banned. That’s why so many people look for them. It works excellently against monsters—and against people as well.”
Even in real history, shields had vanished only after firearms appeared.
Hina spoke up loudly.
“Is that… a bow?”
The merchant smiled quietly, rose from her seat, and brought the bow over. It looked nothing like a medieval longbow or shortbow. The body was smooth, solid alloy; peculiar wheels sat at both ends. Cables wound tightly along the pulleys and metal frame, drawn so taut that a single arrow seemed capable of punching through a wall. The frame glittered like glass; the black-and-silver body carried a modern, mechanical beauty. The grip was shaped exactly to the curve of a palm and wrapped in fine rubber padding so that even prolonged use would not tire the hand.
The merchant gave one of the pulleys a light turn as she explained.
“This isn’t an ordinary bow. It mechanically distributes the high draw weight, so even ordinary strength can produce unimaginable power. With a normal bow you’d need every muscle in your body to pull it all the way… but once you lock this one, you can hold it with just your fingertips.”
She plucked the string lightly. A short, sharp metallic note sliced through the air. No arrow was nocked, yet it felt as though the very air itself might be launched.
Chori whispered, eyes wide and mouth open.
“It’s weird… It’s a bow, but it doesn’t feel like a bow. It feels like some strange machine.”
Minel answered flatly.
“It is a bow.”
It simply did not belong here.
The merchant set the bow down again with a faintly playful smile.
“It’s on another level from other bows. Literally—it came from another dimension.”
Another dimension. Exactly as she said: it looked like a photograph from a modern Olympics, photoshopped into this place.
“Price?”
“For someone who can purchase unique weapons, it shouldn’t be too difficult. Hehehe.”
The laugh sounded as though she had known Minel would come—and had brought it out for that very reason.
Minel glanced at Hina; she answered the merchant.
“We have ninety Blood Crystals in total.”
They had used a few for food and water.
The merchant’s expression tightened a little, yet the smile never left her face.
“Hmm. Purchase would be difficult. Nowhere near enough.”
“…”
“But rental is within reach.”
A sly voice—identical to the first-floor merchant’s.
“Rental?”
“You won’t need it much outside the firearm-ban floors, right? So I’ll rent it to you only while you’re on the fifth floor. Of course, if you lose it along the way you’ll have to pay it off. Fifty Blood Crystals.”
Would it become a needless snare?
Just then Hina spoke as if she had read Minel’s mind.
“Let’s rent it. Better than having nothing. If we’re going to hunt rare monsters, I at least need to contribute to our firepower.”
Sound reasoning. Minel nodded, and Hina rented the bow.
The merchant beamed at once.
“Arrows are one Blood Crystal per ten.”
“…”
In the end they spent every remaining crystal on arrows. The fifth floor teemed with monsters, so restocking Blood Crystals should be easy enough.
Looking satisfied, the merchant said to Minel,
“A good deal. I’ll be staying here a while, so come by again. And spread some good word of mouth, all right?”
She even waved. Completely different from the first-floor merchant. They shared consciousness and called themselves “us,” yet each personality seemed wildly distinct.
“Is there a safe zone nearby? Something like a tavern?”
The merchant pondered a moment, then sighed and answered.
“It has nothing to do with the deal, but you’re a customer, so I’ll tell you as a service. Go to that far corner and you’ll find a room. It’s packed with light-giving jewels, so monsters can’t enter.”
“Thanks. One more question.”
“Yes?”
Minel paused, then asked quietly,
“I heard the merchant on the seventh floor sells escape tickets. Is that true?”
The merchant wore a strange smile.
“Well, doesn’t it depend on which seventh floor?”
“…”
“Just try going up. If you’re lucky you might meet them.”
A loaded remark. Even if Chori’s mother had been right that a seventh-floor merchant sold tickets, you might never find them unless it was a particular seventh floor—exactly as this merchant implied. That followed naturally from the knowledge that a single floor could exist in multiples, perhaps infinitely many. The reason he had never considered it until now was probably an unconscious refusal to let his sense of purpose grow cloudy.
Hina noticed everything and glanced at Minel, but he showed no reaction for Chori’s sake.
“Let’s go.”
While they walked to the safe zone the merchant had indicated, the party checked the bow with the Backrooms Codex. Despite its flashy appearance it was an ordinary level-5 weapon—standard issue usable on the fifth floor.
“She’s a good salesperson. Honestly, I felt like I was buying something amazing.”
“Exactly.”
A little farther on they found a square room, just as the merchant had said, flooded with jewel-light from the ceiling. In its center sat a wide-open chest—similar in form to the one they had seen in the third-floor audience chamber.
Hina spoke.
“A treasure chest? It’s open. Looks like the treasure’s already been taken. That’s probably why monsters can’t come this far—because it’s a treasure-chest room.”
On the first floor treasure had appeared; the one in the third-floor audience chamber had transported them into that suspicious space where Urare resided. This one was already empty, so there was no need to risk checking it.
“Don’t go near it.”
“Ah, okay.”
“Make the house door and go inside if anything happens.”
As Minel turned, Hina asked quickly,
“Where are you going?”
“To check the Shocker.”
Hina blinked rapidly, then asked carefully,
“Y-you’re not… You’re just checking, right?”
“Of course.”
She let out a light sigh. Minel’s actions always lay outside calculation. Even now he might leave claiming he would only look, then return carrying the Shocker’s head and say, “It was a nuisance so I just killed it,” and she would hardly be surprised.
“You’re really only checking?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. Come back safe.”
“If it gets dangerous, go into the house.”
With that offhand remark Minel stepped out of the room.
The Shocker’s habitat lay very close to the merchant, so he intended only a quick look. Alone and responsible only for himself, he could move quite freely—which was why endless thoughts rose unbidden.
What if they could not buy an escape ticket on the seventh floor? Shouldn’t he prepare somehow, just in case?
In less than thirty minutes he reached the Shocker’s habitat.
Patsutsut—!
Patsutsut—!
A familiar sound. Minel hid himself in the dark and quickly closed in on the direction of the electric crackle. He peered around a corner and spotted the Shocker far ahead.
Then, at that exact moment—
Chaaak—!
The Shocker’s brow split cleanly from top to bottom and the creature fell in two. Behind it, a man yawned.
“Haa… what a pain. How many more do I have to kill… Huh? What? Who’s there? Who’s peeping? Aren’t you coming over? You’ll die, you know? Huh?”
Minel did not run. He knew all too well that it would be useless. He stepped out into the light and bowed politely.
“It’s been a long time, Senior Balan.”