Gacha Jackpot and the Flying Fortress
I reaped a harvest beyond my wildest gacha dreams. The adventurer party had a decent amount of coin on them, and once I gathered up their weapons and armor, the haul was nothing to sneeze at. After all, the dead have no use for such things, right? I, the living, might as well put them to good use.
Just then, the sword the knight had been wielding suddenly blazed with light and transformed into a card. I picked it up and examined it. Beneath the illustration of a massive two-handed sword were the English words “Sword Ace.” So the blade he carried wasn’t a real weapon at all, but part of some ability, just like my summons.
Congratulations. You have defeated a “Hero” class applicant. As a reward, one Special Gacha Ticket that allows for a 10-pull has been granted.
The sword-illustrated card instantly morphed into the kind of ticket commonly seen in collectible games. To think I’d obtain the gacha ticket I’d been craving like this! But a nagging thought crept in. Did this mean other otherworlders might come after me for the same spoils? I had no way of knowing whether this reward for killing another otherworlder was unique to me or something others could also receive.
“Hey, info window. I’ve got a question. Is this reward for killing applicants a privilege only I have?”
[I’m sorry, Marquelon. I cannot answer that question.]
“So that’s how it is.”
From now on, I couldn’t afford to let slip that I was from another world. Whenever I traveled, I’d have to wrap myself up tightly in a robe, and if anyone asked where I was from, I’d claim some remote backwater village. Or maybe I could use the excuse of memory loss. Isn’t that the classic trope writers drag out when they want to stall the plot or add melodrama? Might as well put it to practical use myself.
“Well, if I’ve received the feed, it’s only natural to use it right away.”
“Feed? Master, you’re not livestock, so what’s with the feed talk?”
“It’s… just a thing!”
Would you like to use the Special Gacha Ticket?
“Of course. O God of Gacha, grant me strength and blessings!”
Of course no such god existed, but it was just something to say, so whatever. Who knew? This was a fantasy world—maybe a real one did exist.
The ticket in my hand burst into flames as if set alight, and a massive window appeared before my eyes. Ten cards spread out in a fan, all showing their backs. When I touched them, they flipped over one by one to reveal the results.
I flipped nine cards, but they were nothing but ordinary Rare-grade vehicles—plain horses, retro-style cars, that sort of thing. Honestly, when rolling the gacha, anything below a certain rarity isn’t worth looking at unless it’s something truly unusual. With only Tirga as my summon, I was grateful for even lower-tier summons, but mindlessly calling them out would drain my maintenance costs dry.
Just as I reached for the final card, a brilliant golden light began to seep from its back. Oh—could this be a legendary card… or at least a high-grade summon?
“Let’s see!”
Along with the golden radiance, the summon that appeared was none other than the current pickup—an airship that stirred the soul with its romance. Good grief, to think I’d land the pickup character this easily. Dopamine was flooding my system so hard I felt euphoric.
“Solaris, summon!”
At my cheerful cry, a massive ironclad airship materialized in the sky amid a rush of wind. Its sheer size left my jaw hanging. I couldn’t even begin to guess how many people could fit inside. The hull looked to be made of some sturdy metal—whether steel or not, it radiated durability. I briefly considered having Tirga give it a test swing, but if his strength could actually damage it, I decided against it.
“Incredible, Master. To call forth something so wondrous.”
“Want to give it a ride?”
If the summoner remains within a certain distance of Solaris, they may enter it. Would you like to board?
“Sure. Tirga and I will board together.”
A magic circle formed beneath our feet, and in an instant we were inside the ship. Before us stood a line of dwarves in uniform, standing at attention. The dwarf at the front saluted the moment he saw me.
“Welcome aboard Solaris, Commander. I am Triel, captain of Solaris.”
“Good to meet you, Captain. Could you give us a tour of the interior?”
“Of course. I’ll have one of my loyal subordinates escort you.”
An airship crewed by dwarves, the master craftsmen—how could I not trust that? The inside of the airship was remarkably luxurious and spotless, equipped with every conceivable amenity. So this was what an SSR-grade summon looked like. A lounge with an excellent view, rest areas, a kitchen and dining hall, a bath, and clean guest rooms. At this point, it was basically a five-star hotel floating in the sky. I could probably live here without issue, though the maintenance costs would likely be impossible to sustain.
“Good. Pass this on to the captain: there’ll be combat soon, so keep Solaris in peak condition.”
“Understood, Commander.”
After speaking with the dwarf crewman who had guided us, I reluctantly descended back to the ground. Being able to board and disembark without the airship landing—truly, the convenience of a high-grade pickup was on another level.
That aside… other otherworlders—those who came through the same project as me—would grant special gacha tickets when killed. No matter how I looked at it, robbing others was far more efficient than grinding out ten gold through honest work.
Come to think of it, I’d killed people. Yet I felt no guilt, no pangs of conscience whatsoever. I didn’t know why. If I were some madman getting an adrenaline rush from the excitement, that would be one thing, but feeling absolutely nothing left me oddly unsettled.
For now, I dismissed Solaris and returned to the city with Tirga. Like a lonely gourmet, hunger suddenly struck. The sun was beginning to set; evening had already arrived. Since I’d obtained a pickup summon and saved some money for gacha, I figured I might as well treat myself to something delicious with the spare cash. Plus, there were the spoils from the hero party. I’d sold them for a pittance, but I’d chalk that up to depreciation and move on.
We arrived at the inn and tavern we’d visited upon first entering the city. On a day this good, drinks and fine food were essential. I slipped the waitress a small tip and ordered a variety of dishes from the menu. Soon the table was laden with enough food to cover its entire surface.
“Eat slowly, Tirga.”
“Munch munch… Got it, Master.”
“Well, well. Look who it is. The fearsome mercenary who wiped out all those orcs.”
At the familiar voice, I looked up to see two elves in black uniforms standing there. Richel’s subordinates? Or perhaps members of the Imperial Guard? They looked like soldiers out on leave after duty.
“A pleasure to meet you. What business do you have with me?”
“No need to be so stiff, mercenary. Or rather, I can’t keep calling you that. I’m Richel. This is Ibre, the youngest in our platoon.”
“Marquelon. That’s my companion and partner, Tirga.”
“If it wouldn’t be a bother, may we join you?”
“I don’t mind, but Tirga?”
“I don’t care, but…”
Tirga pulled a chair over and sat pressed right up against me. It was as if she were blocking the elves’ approach, silently threatening to zap them with lightning if they got too close. Not content with that, she crossed her arms and pressed her chest against my arm. Ugh—blood was rushing south.
“Are you two lovers? You make a good pair.”
“Well… something like that.”
“Jealous. I wish a decent human man would come my way too. Know anyone worth introducing?”
“Sorry. I’m a drifter, so my social circle is practically nonexistent.”
Richel seemed like a straightforward, easygoing elf. The youngest one, on the other hand, was probably too low-ranking to speak freely and simply drank in silence. Made sense—with a superior like Richel sitting right there, a rookie wouldn’t dare act out.
“Honestly, it’s a bit strange talking to elves like this.”
“What? Just how remote a backwater are you from?”
Well, I was from the otherworld called modern times, but I couldn’t exactly say that, so I just shut my mouth and drank. I’d always thought elves lived in forests or rugged mountains, but apparently not in this world. Just went to show you had to abandon preconceptions. Elves could wear helmets, black uniforms, and chant strange slogans too. Whoa—her arm’s rising at a 45-degree angle.
“I’d like to hear a bit about the Silvareich Empire.”
“No reason I can’t tell you. Ibre, Private First Class!”
“Yes, I’ll explain in her stead.”
Before the empire was founded, elves had lived in tribes amid nature, just as I’d imagined—until the unlucky ones were captured by humans and enslaved. Then one day, an elf leader appeared like a comet, united the tribes, and founded a nation. That was the origin of the Silvareich Empire. Driven by the desire to create a country for the superior elven race, they grew their power, invaded the territories of countless human nobles who used elves as slaves, and liberated them. Expanding their territory, they even incorporated the dwarven forces and eventually grew strong enough to be called an empire.
“Thus, our empire can be said to be the strongest nation on the continent at present.”
“Fascinating. But I’m just a lowly human—am I really allowed to dine with such magnificent elves?”
“No need to worry. We are very generous toward humans who serve the empire loyally.”
“That’s right. So rest assured, Marquelon.”
And so I chatted with the two elves, learning about the Silvareich Empire and how this world worked. This fantasy world was far more of a mess than I’d imagined. Like the Three Kingdoms period, three great powers—the Silvareich Empire, the Northern Federation with its red and white armies locked in civil war, and the Holy Empire—were all competing against one another. There were human kingdoms outside these three, of course, but compared to the major powers they were like shrimp caught between whales.
“Ugh, Master, I hate these difficult, boring stories!”
“Got it, Tirga. I’ll stop. We’ll be heading up now. Let’s meet again sometime.”
Tirga and I rose together, paid for the food and room, and headed to our inn room. What was that musty smell? Whether it was from lack of cleaning or ventilation, my nose itched. Even my old studio back home, with its dust and tangled hair rolling around, hadn’t been this bad.
I sat carefully on the bed. It was so inferior compared to a modern mattress that it was clearly just straw stuffed into a sack. I was already missing my bed back in the modern world. Maybe I should just leave this inn right now and summon that ultra-luxurious airship.
“Ah, damn this shitty fantasy world.”
“Hm? Master, what did you say?”
“Nothing. Let’s just get some sleep.”
“What are you talking about, Master? There’s still something we need to do, isn’t there?”
Tirga pushed me down onto the bed and began roughly stripping off my clothes. Aaaah—getting eaten again.