Squall
As we emerged from the canyon thick with softly glowing, snow-white moss, what unfolded before us was a suffocatingly dense cluster of vegetation. The air, once pleasant, had grown heavy, hot, and humid. I was fine, but the beads of sweat already forming on the tips of the two humans’ noses told me this was no ordinary weather. Welcome to the jungle.
—Ooh. Ooh. Ah. Ah ah.
—Aaaaaaaaah!!!
—Weee. Ok. Weee. Ok.
Unidentifiable beast cries echoed from every direction, stabbing at our eardrums alongside the stench of rotting leaves. It felt exactly like stepping into a rundown zoo planted in the middle of the Amazon. The bizarre yet oddly cheerful howls were almost entertaining. The smell, however, was on another level. Beneath the odor of humus lurked a thick, fishy reek that reminded me of a neglected hippopotamus enclosure or a poorly maintained reptile house. Ugh. For once, I was genuinely grateful for the Plague Doctor Mask. This three-hundred-thousand-won mask actually filters out quite a bit of odor.
“...It really lives up to the name.”
A sigh slipped from the contractor, who stood pinching his nose with one hand while staring blankly at the disgustingly vibrant pseudo-tropical rainforest. It wasn’t admiration so much as a lament—How can a place like this even exist? Do I seriously have to stay here for a while? This can’t be happening.
“Adventurer, this shitty smell will become tolerable after a few hours of wandering around anyway, nyang. So take your hand off your nose, nyang. Blocking it like that only slows down your adaptation, nyang.”
“Uh...”
The contractor hesitated at Sion’s words, then reluctantly lowered his hand. His face immediately crumpled twice as hard. The sight was so adorable I had to chuckle quietly to myself. A moment later, the contractor’s voice—weakened by the heat—reached me.
“...By the way, Miss Sion. Can you actually find a path through a chaotic place like this?”
Sion flashed the contractor a confident grin that revealed her sharp fangs. She thumped her chest once with a fist as if to say he had nothing to worry about.
“There’s a method for everything, so don’t worry, nyang. Adventurer, if I couldn’t find even one path in the Green Zone, I wouldn’t be called a guide, nyang!”
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
When we were roaming the White Zone I had wondered whether a guide was truly necessary, but I clearly needed to revise that opinion. A guide wasn’t merely helpful—it was essential. Like miners carrying a cage with a canary through the tunnels. Otherwise we would get lost in the labyrinth of trees and end up as fertilizer for some nameless plant. Just imagining it was horrifying. Maybe burning the whole place down really was the best option.
“Then let’s get moving, nyang! If we don’t secure a temporary base before nightfall, we’ll be in big trouble, nyang!”
“...This is inside the dungeon. Does night actually matter that much here?”
“It might seem meaningless, but it does have meaning, nyang!”
Just as bioluminescent moss lit the darkness of the White Zone, the Green Zone had its own light-emitting flora. Unlike the White Zone, however, where such plants were abundant, the Green Zone’s glowing specimens were strictly limited.
“What’s currently illuminating most of the Green Zone is an enormous flower that grows only on the ceiling. It’s called the Eye of the Sun, nyang!”
The Eye of the Sun had one peculiar habit. When evening came, it closed its petals as though falling asleep.
“When the Eye of the Sun folds its petals, the entire Green Zone becomes pitch black, nyang!”
Glowing mushrooms and lantern trees provided scattered light, enough to move around, but the monsters with excellent night vision made it extremely dangerous. Therefore—
“Our first objective is to secure a base where we can safely spend the night, nyang!”
Instead of pushing forward with exploration today, we decided to prioritize building a base camp. Yes, in any survival situation a temporary stronghold was vital. As expected, Sion really knew her stuff. She was utterly dependable.
“Then let’s go! My troops! We’re off to find a place to sleep! Hurry before it rains, nyang! I absolutely hate getting wet, nyang!”
“Understood.”
“Yes…!”
We followed Sion—the survival expert cat who loathed getting her fur(?) wet more than anything—into the hot, humid, and damp jungle.
Splash.
“....”
The instant I took one step, a spine-chilling sound accompanied the soiling of my beloved combat boots. I already wanted to turn back to the comfortable White Zone, but I endured and took the second step.
Splash.
“Hmm.”
This Green Zone was clearly not going to be easy.
The purpose of this dungeon expedition was to adapt to the Green Zone—this deep jungle that could rival the Amazon. Adaptation, however, was not something accomplished quickly or easily. Therefore, unless something unexpected happened, we intended to spend roughly a week in this damnably humid, damp, filthy, and irritating jungle.
“....”
I loved peace and safety, yet this time a dark thought kept creeping in—that it would be nice if something did happen. If you asked why, I would simply tell you to look at the sky. Despite being deep underground, the towering ceiling was completely covered in black storm clouds that looked ready to unleash rain at any moment.
And it did rain.
“It’s raining.”
A hell of a lot, too. The droplets that had begun falling one or two at a time soon transformed into a torrential downpour so heavy it blurred everything in front of us. So this was what they called a squall—a tropical cloudburst. I had only ever seen them in documentaries. Experiencing one firsthand was strangely fascinating. As I stared blankly at the sheets of rain, a scream burst out ahead of us.
“Ah! No, nyang! We haven’t even picked a base yet! Rain! It’s already pouring down, nyang! Don’t mess with me, nyang!”
“...Kkachi. Please.”
“Kkyu!”
Watching Sion cling to a tree like a cicada, screeching “nyang nyang” in an attempt to avoid the rain, the contractor silently pulled the backpack from Kkachi’s storage. By then the rain had reached its peak, thoroughly soaking us all.
—Shaaaaaaaaaa!!!
“....”
“....”
“....”
Thanks to that, we became drenched cats before we could even locate a base. Oh, and there really was one wet cat among us.
“I want to die, nyang.”
Same here. Though of course I’d leave out the “nyang.”
Sion had prepared in advance; she now wore a military-green poncho (it really did look almost identical) treated with expensive magic waterproof coating. Even so, her eyes looked half-dead. They said tigers loved water, but Sion truly seemed closer to an ordinary house cat. Trailing behind her drooping gray tail that poked out from the poncho was a small, grim little reaper. If you simply placed a long scythe in its hand, the image would be perfect.
Splash.
“....”
Unlike the noisy Sion, the contractor had pulled his black robe over his head and walked in silence, staring at his thoroughly soiled boots. The rain seemed to have washed away some of the heat and stench, because his expression wasn’t too bad. He only flinched his shoulders slightly whenever he stepped in mud. The unfamiliar sensation must have made him sensitive. Since the contractor had asked Kkachi to coat the outer surface of his robe with shadow, he hadn’t gotten nearly as wet as the person who had put on her poncho too late. Every time the heavy rain struck his robe, black ripples spread across it like stones skipped across a stream.
Kkachi poked its head slightly out from the contractor’s shoulder, craning upward toward the pouring rain that blocked all vision. The sight reminded me of the twisted fish monster from the movie The Host drinking rainwater as it fell. Well, maybe it was just taking a shower.
Tap. Tap-tap.
Listening to the constant sound of rain striking the Plague Doctor Mask, we moved carefully, searching for a suitable base to escape the weather. Heading toward the central body region in this foul weather would have been suicidal, so we kept a wall overgrown with blue moss to one side and circled around the perimeter.
Swish.
As I lightly brushed away the rainwater flowing down the moss-covered wall, I fell into a brief reverie.
It feels like a march.
Back when I was still an ordinary human, it had rained like this during military marches too. Everyone had assumed we would rest and were grinning ear to ear—until the order to break out the ponchos turned their faces to despair. We assembled neatly on the parade ground, then walked endlessly through the rain. Everyone complained about how hard and annoying it was, but at the time I had felt something slightly different. The raindrops splashing against the combat cap of the comrade walking ahead. The sound of combat boots splashing into puddles. Chatting casually back and forth, pulling chocolate snacks from our front pockets and savoring a brief moment of happiness. None of it had been bad. After all, when else would we get to walk together on a rainy day like this?
Whether because those old memories lingered or because my precious comrades were with me now, I couldn’t say. But exploring a green dungeon while being rained on…
“...Isn’t bad at all.”
It really wasn’t so unpleasant.