Sewer Reconnaissance Request (2)
The hours slipped by, and it was already lunchtime. I finished a hearty meal and headed toward the meeting spot. The time was 11:30. Sargadis had a massive clock tower, so telling the time was easy. Pocket watches were expensive, which was why every decent-sized city had one of these public clock towers. The reason I showed up thirty minutes early was simple: I was bored out of my damn mind. I’d been waiting since six in the morning and felt like I was going to lose my sanity from the sheer tedium. Killing six hours with almost nothing to do in this other world was basically forced labor.
Shuffle, shuffle. When I reached the fountain that served as our rendezvous point, a crowd of people had already gathered. Apparently a lot of folks used this exact spot for meetings. Water gushed continuously from the modestly sized fountain with a cheerful whoosh-whoosh-whoosh. Just looking at structures like this or the clock tower made it clear this wasn’t your average medieval backwater. It felt more like a modern civilization that had somehow stalled after a failed industrial revolution and stayed frozen in time for over a thousand years. It reminded me of the fantasy worlds you’d see in those Disney movies.
“Are you Mr. Norde?”
Someone spoke to me while I was staring at the fountain. It was a woman wearing a sleeveless robe. She had draped a cloak over her shoulders to cover the flashy miniskirt-style robe that left her arms bare. Her hair was pure white and her eyes were sky-blue. At first glance, she looked exactly like an elf.
“Yes, I’m Norde. Are you the one who’s serving as party leader for this request…? Uh…”
“I’m Tyrsie. Tyrsie Armasunas.”
“Right. Tyrsie. Sorry about that. I didn’t get any of the party members’ personal details in advance.”
I’d completely forgotten to ask. The receptionist hadn’t volunteered the information either. Tyrsie nodded as if she’d expected as much.
“Even if you had asked, they probably wouldn’t have told you. The guild only gives the party leader the names and descriptions of the members.”
“Really? Why? Is it just too much of a hassle to repeat it every time?”
“Probably. Parties form and disband constantly throughout the day. Still, since I already know everyone, there’s no need to worry.”
Despite her cool, icy coloring, Tyrsie had gentle eyes and a soft way of speaking. That fact put my mind at complete ease. As long as the leader was someone with their head screwed on straight, the two of us alone would be enough to keep the project from turning into a total disaster.
“By the way, you came quite early,” Tyrsie said, glancing up at the clock tower. “There’s still more than thirty minutes left. I thought I’d be the first one here.”
“Heh heh. It’s embarrassing, but this is my first request, so I’m not very good at timing these things. Besides, showing up early makes a better first impression than being late, doesn’t it?”
“That’s true. Anyone can be late by accident, but it’s not good to start off that way when it’s everyone’s first time meeting.”
Should I call her strict like a typical mage, or unusually open-minded for one? Opinions would probably differ depending on who you asked, but to me, Tyrsie’s attitude seemed perfectly fine. In this world, magic itself was common, but mages tended to be arrogant pricks. Most of them had been raised learning how to draw magic circles instead of basic manners and ethics. Their academic elitism was off the charts, and they had a bad habit of applying double standards while acting superior. I could understand where they were coming from. Living as an educated person in this primitive world must feel like quite the achievement. As long as they didn’t take it out on me, I could live with it. Besides, these mages were still better than those motherless university professors back on Earth. Hey, Professor, how the hell am I supposed to park your damn elephant?
“Ah, the next party member is coming,” Tyrsie said, fiddling with her wand.
From far away, an old man with snow-white hair was walking toward us. He carried a short spear and a wooden shield on his back, and wore a thin layer of leather armor over his chest.
“Heh heh heh. As expected, it really is Lady Tyrsie. Good thing I came early.”
“Mr. Gentric. Hehe. It’s been a while.”
“You two know each other?” I asked, watching their friendly greeting.
The Audumla Guild wasn’t that large, so it made sense they might have crossed paths during jobs.
“Yes. We met during a previous request.”
“I’m Gentric Helius. Pleasure to meet you.”
The old man offered a handshake, so I took it without thinking. He was wearing gloves, but even through the leather I could feel a surprisingly firm grip. They always say to watch out for old men in an industry where young guys drop like flies. The logic was that anyone who survived when everyone else died had to be tough. Still, judging by how he looked, this grandpa didn’t seem like some incredible expert. I figured he was just someone who was exceptionally good at not dying and scraping by. After all, the adventurer business in this world was basically a small-to-medium factory full of backbreaking labor. Even so, the experience he’d accumulated over the years wouldn’t just disappear. Depending on when he started this line of work, he was definitely a senior with far more experience than me. I’d have to trust him.
“Just one person left now.”
“Yeah. We’ve already got three of us and there’s still thirty minutes to go.”
“I heard the party leader was a Bronze-class mage, so I came early just in case.”
“…Please don’t make it sound like I’m obsessed with punctuality.”
Tyrsie sounded a little sulky, so Gentric and I both laughed. This party seemed like it was going to be pretty decent. Three people showing up thirty minutes early? Some might criticize it as poor time management, but I saw it differently. Better to wait yourself than make others wait because you were messing around. That mindset usually came from consideration for others. In a world overflowing with born psychopaths and acquired sociopaths, finding party members like this wasn’t easy.
But of course, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, the last person still hadn’t shown up even after twenty minutes.
“The last one’s late.”
“There’s still ten minutes left?”
“Yeah, but we’re all here already.”
Gentric looked annoyed, but really we had just arrived way too early. Still, human nature being what it is, having one person hold everyone up created dissatisfaction.
That was when it happened.
“There she is. The last party member… huh?”
Tyrsie, who had been checking her pocket watch, suddenly looked to the left and her mouth fell open. What’s going on? I followed her gaze and spotted a short woman sprinting toward us at full speed. Even though her face was completely hidden by a hood, I would have bet both my arms and legs that she was female. The reason was obvious even from this distance—her chest was bouncing so prominently it was impossible to miss.
“S-sorry! Am I late?!”
She was wearing a cheap hood that was much longer than Tyrsie’s. It looked like some kind of gray poncho.
“I-I’m Francesca Aitrynen, a half-dwarf! I’m really, really sorry for being late!”
She was panting hard as she pulled back her hood. She had black hair and blue eyes, and her face was that of a pure, beautiful young woman. She looked youthful, but not like a child. So she was a half-dwarf. Unlike the impression the word “dwarf” usually gave, her face… Francesca, was it? Anyway, there wasn’t a single hair on her face. From what I’d heard, female dwarves in this world didn’t grow beards. Dwarf beards were apparently a cultural thing, not a racial trait. Forcing Tolkien-style dwarves onto the real dwarves of this world would have been ridiculous. If someone told me I was a yellow monkey and should throw away my sword and fight with kung fu and archery instead, I’d have gladly given them a spinning back kick from my 0-dan Taekwondo. Still, her short stature matched what I knew about dwarves. Roughly 150 to 160 centimeters? Basically elementary or middle school height. But her chest was ridiculously huge.
Bounce, bounce.
It’s important, so I’ll say it twice. Her chest was ridiculously huge. Enormous. Insanely big. Unbelievably massive. Her bust size looked like it could compete with her height. Even more shocking was that she was wearing leather armor. Until now, I had no idea that a woman’s breasts could show such insane movement even when tightly wrapped in a bra and leather armor.
“U-um…? This is the party for the sewer reconnaissance request, right…?”
Francesca asked hesitantly. Tyrsie had frozen solid like a statue, so she seemed worried she might have come to the wrong place. Gentric and I exchanged glances. Our eyes darted rapidly between Francesca’s chest and Tyrsie’s chest.
Swish! Swish-swish! Swish-swish-swish!
It was as quick and precise as the final shot that decides the winner of a world billiards championship. The overwhelming mid difference had left our party leader completely stunned. To be fair, Tyrsie wasn’t small either. She was probably at least a B-cup. But for women, breast size was the equivalent of dick size for men. It was inevitable that she would notice the overwhelming gap, look at herself, and fall into a stunned state. So Gentric and I greeted Francesca first to buy our leader time to recover from the status effect.
“Ahem, ahem. Yes, we’re the party that took the sewer reconnaissance request. I’m Gentric. Nice to meet you, Miss Francesca.”
“I’m Norde. Looking forward to working with you today.”
“Ah, yes! Nice to meet both of you too!”
Francesca answered brightly, sounding relieved. Tyrsie finally snapped out of her stunned state and spoke.
“…I-I’m Tyrsie Armasunas. There’s no need to apologize. Actually, you arrived earlier than the appointed time.”
“Y-yes! Thank you!”
Francesca answered quickly, as if she was a little nervous. To my eyes Tyrsie just looked like a group project leader, but to Francesca she was both the party leader and a mage, so she probably seemed like an impressive person. Gentric had also used polite speech with Tyrsie, after all.
“Then let’s get going.”
After we finished introducing ourselves, we followed our still-somewhat-dazed party leader toward the entrance to the sewers.
The sewer entrance was located on the slum side of the city. Sewage treatment plants were NIMBY facilities in this world too. Such facilities were usually built in cheap rural areas or districts already full of disliked infrastructure, and in Sargadis that place was the slums. The residents stared at us, but their gazes quickly retreated like dogs with their tails between their legs. They couldn’t pick a fight with a four-person adventurer party that included a mage. Still, judging by the way they’d been glaring, if I had come alone I probably would’ve had my pockets picked. I’d have to be careful.
I looked around as I followed Tyrsie, and after about ten minutes we arrived at the sewer entrance.
“Oh, you must be from the Audumla Guild?”
The person greeting us at the entrance was a young man wearing the standard equipment of a guard. He was probably assigned to the sewage treatment plant. But his appearance suddenly raised a question in my mind. Managing the sewers should be the lord’s responsibility. So why were they hiring adventurers and paying them instead of using guards like this guy?
My question was answered by the guard’s self-introduction.
“I’m George, the client for this request.”
Fuck. It was subcontracting on top of subcontracting. Just like how public officials pushed off public service work, these guards were dumping the NIMBY facility management onto adventurers. Isn’t this extremely illegal? It was infuriating, but trying to argue about it in this primitive other world would be stupid. Since the lord was turning a blind eye, the guards and the adventurer guild must have come to some kind of arrangement. I decided to think of it as a win-win relationship. The guards didn’t have to return to duty smelling like sewage, and we got to build up our record and earn money. Good for everyone. If it ever got too shitty, I could just stop taking sewer reconnaissance requests in the future.
“I’m Tyrsie Armasunas, the Bronze-class adventurer serving as the party’s temporary leader.”
Tyrsie, who had taken on the role of leader, stepped forward to represent us.
“Are there any special notes for this reconnaissance request?”
“No, no. Everything was normal during the last patrol. This is just a regular maintenance inspection as usual.”
George waved his hands dismissively. He was probably the junior guard who got stuck with the dirty work. His face showed he was just hoping no accidents would happen while he was on duty.
“When was the last time you did a patrol?”
“One month ago. But about two weeks ago, we went in with some repairmen. The only thing that happened was running into a few monsters while finishing the sewer maintenance and coming back out.”
It wasn’t particularly helpful information. Tyrsie nodded as if she understood and turned to look at us.
“Doesn’t seem like there will be any problems. I’d like to start the request immediately. Does anyone need more preparation time?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m good too.”
“M-me too!”
With no objections, Tyrsie nodded again.
“Then let’s head in right away. Everyone, please put on your masks.”
“Huh?”
Masks all of a sudden? No one had told me to bring one. I became extremely flustered when I saw Gentric pulling a mask from his pocket and Tyrsie touching her earring while chanting some kind of spell. The warrior handling it with gear and the mage handling it with magic! It felt like I was the only one who hadn’t brought the essential dungeon-clearing item. What the hell? Professor Brammaton’s book didn’t mention anything about masks either!
“It looks like that gentleman doesn’t have a mask?”
The guard George, who was standing there holding his spear, asked. His words made me feel slightly wronged. Fuck. To think that someone who survived the crazy coronavirus situation in the 21st century would one day hear that he didn’t have a mask!
“Is it really necessary? From what I heard, there was no mention of having to prepare a mask separately.”
I wanted to believe this was all just superstition. That a mere mask wasn’t actually needed and everyone else was just being a coward. But the answer I got was annoyingly reasonable.
“Ah, they didn’t pay much attention to it in the past. But recently the Mage Guild said… what was it? Toxic gas? They said it’s better to wear a mask if you want to be careful of toxic gas.”
The sewers only had drainage holes for ventilation. In a semi-sealed space full of waste, it made sense that toxic gas would build up.
“Then do I need to get a mask with some kind of anti-poison magic on it? I’m just Iron-class and don’t have money. How am I supposed to—”
“Anti-poison mask? No. We just use regular cloth masks.”
What the fuck? Then a mask or no mask, it’s basically meaningless.
“I see. A cloth mask.”
I let out a sigh. A cloth mask would be practically useless against toxic gas. But buying an actual gas mask that cost more than the quest reward would be stupid. I guess it’ll be fine to just go in like this. If it was really dangerous, Professor Brammaton would have written it down. In the chapters about ruins and dungeons, he had specifically told people to bring gas masks or antidotes. The gas in the sewers was probably at a level where you wouldn’t die even if you ignored it.
Tyrsie fiddled with the wand she had used for her spell and spoke in a slightly apologetic tone.
“I’m sorry. My skills are still lacking, so I don’t have enough power to cast the spell on Mr. Norde as well…”
“Heh heh. It’s my fault for not preparing, so why are you apologizing, Tyrsie? I understand completely, so there’s no need to say sorry.”
If she used up her magic giving me a status effect resistance buff and then couldn’t use spells when it actually mattered, that would be bad. In Korean gamer culture, it was common sense to prioritize damage over healing. If my head started spinning, I could just go to the temple afterward. I had saved up quite a bit of money anyway.
“U-um…”
Poke, poke. While I was thinking that, someone poked me in the back with their finger. The only person not in my field of vision right now was one specific individual.
“Francesca?”
“Ah, yes. Um… if you need it, you can use this. I made it with cloth I bought fresh yesterday, so it’s clean.”
Francesca held the mask open with both hands to show me. The mask made of black cloth looked clean, just as she said.
“But if I take this, won’t you be left without a mask, Francesca?”
“Don’t worry about me. Dwarves are tough. Aside from the smell, it’s not that different from the underground mines back home.”
“…Is that so?”
Dwarves were the ones who built cities underground. Their resistance to toxic gas and oxygen deprivation might be superior to other races.
“Thank you for lending it to me. I’ll use it well and return it.”
Since she offered so sincerely, refusing would have been rude. I accepted the mask with gratitude and put it on.
Inhale.
When I breathed through the mask, a slightly refreshing scent mixed with a distinctly feminine body odor wafted up. It smelled nice, but I felt like I was doing something incredibly perverted. It was as if I had become a pervert sniffing the clothes a woman had been wearing.
“Are you all ready?”
George, who had been watching us, picked up some items from near his feet. They were a large lantern and a map.
“Please do not lose the lantern or the map under any circumstances. Move exactly as shown on the map, and please record any damaged sewers or facilities on this paper and bring it back.”
“Understood.”
Tyrsie took the equipment and spoke to us.
“I’ll carry the lantern and map since I have a free hand. But for recording, I’d like to ask someone else to handle it in case of unexpected situations. Does anyone know how to write?”
“I can write.”
“Me too.”
“What? Am I the only illiterate one? I really wasted my years, huh.”
Everyone except the illiterate Gentric knew how to write. He scratched his head in embarrassment. Tyrsie looked back and forth between me and Francesca. In the end, she handed the paper to Francesca.
“It makes more sense to give it to the rogue rather than the warrior. Recording will occupy both hands, so we can’t afford to be unable to respond to sudden combat situations.”
It was a reasonable opinion, so there was no objection. And so we finally stepped into the sewer.