Cat Power Gauntlet (2)
Cats are famous for paying their debts.
There's a well-known story about how, if you take in a stray, feed it, bathe it, and give it a place to sleep, one day it starts bringing you the corpses of mice and snakes on a regular basis.
The downside is that, as the examples suggest, a cat's idea of repayment is thoroughly cat-centric.
"A Cat Power Gauntlet? What's that?"
"It lets you put out cat-like strength, nyang!"
What? That sounds completely pathetic—
I did not say that out loud.
Modern-day housecats and the cats of a medieval fantasy world are, after all, different species.
"It's a gauntlet made from fur that holds the power of our people, nyang. From the First Claw all the way to the Fifth Claw—everyone pulled out one claw and set it in, nyang!"
"Excuse me?!"
My eyes went naturally to Yumi's right hand.
And there—
They're all still there?
All five claws were firmly attached. Wondering if she'd been putting me on, I looked up, and Yumi smiled as if she already knew what I was thinking.
"Benefactor doesn't know much about the Cat Tribe, nyang!"
"Pardon?"
"There's a thing for that, nyang. Anyway, if you put this gauntlet on, the hand wearing it can put out cat-like strength, nyang!"
So basically… something like an Ogre Power Gauntlet?
A legendary artifact I'd heard about in passing came to mind. I didn't know the details, but the effect was probably similar.
No—not similar at all.
"Ogre-like strength" only went as high as that mutant ogre from last time.
An ogre? That's just a nobody the Cat Tribe kicked out of the line, isn't it?
I accepted the gloves of Catman Sukuna—the kind of premium artifact that would turn even an Ogre Satoru into a scrub.
"Thank you. For someone short on martial power like myself, this will make an excellent means of self-defense."
"That's right, nyang! That's why I prepared it, nyang! Benefactor is way too weak, nyang! Like a little mouse, nyang!"
…She said that out of concern, right?
A pure, unfiltered insult on the level of "You're complete trash" had just been fired at me, but I decided to focus on the joy of the loot drop instead.
Tucking the Cat Power Gauntlet carefully against my chest, I asked,
"Come to think of it, how are the Cat Tribe folks doing? I haven't been able to look after you much since you arrived. Is everyone settling in all right?"
"Of course we are, nyang! Everyone's thrilled about one hearth per person, nyang!"
The reason I hadn't been able to give the Cat Tribe much attention was simple: there wasn't much special I could actually do for them.
Once their migration was decided, we'd selected a usable site and set about building villages. The work had run in parallel with the construction of the mining village. Because the entire Cat Tribe had relocated, a single settlement couldn't hold them all, so we ended up building five villages at once.
The engineering battalion's aces had led the charge, and the whole tribe threw themselves into the work. Monsters that should have come raiding in the gaps before the walls were finished never dared—because the nocturnal Cat Tribe kept both eyes wide open through the night.
On top of that, being night-active meant they could run two shifts around the clock, so the work felt twice as fast. Thanks to all of it, the Cat Tribe had safely secured one hanok and one hearth apiece, and settled into the North without incident.
I didn't really have to lift a finger through any of that.
If cultural friction between the Cat Tribe and the Northerners had blown up along the way, I would have had to step in—but the reports coming up showed no such signs.
"And more of our people can see now, nyang!"
Even more encouraging: the number of Cat Tribe members who had regained their sight had risen sharply.
Those who had completely lost their vision were another matter, but most of those who still had some hope left had recovered their original eyesight. I'd half-expected a few cases to worsen if luck ran bad, but with more than seventy percent recovering, the Cat Tribe must have thrown one hell of a festival.
"I'm glad to hear it. I'll make sure the catnip supply stays more than sufficient."
"Hieeeek!! Thank you, nyang!! Thank you, nyang!!!"
The moment I promised the other contract term—catnip deliveries—Yumi detonated into a reaction storm like a streamer who'd just gotten a massive donation from a whale.
What a waste, letting that talent rot here. If this world had broadcasting, I'd put her on air tomorrow and farm sponsorships by the armful.
"Anyway—is there anything else you need?"
"Nothing like that… ah! There is, nyang!"
Still mourning the tragic waste of talent, I asked if there was anything else, and Yumi started to shake her head no—then something clearly occurred to her, and she changed her answer on the spot.
"What is it?"
"Um…! Not right away, but… we're going to need wood, nyang!"
"Wood?"
"We're going to run short of wood for the ondol, nyang!"
"Pardon? What do you—ah."
Right.
I completely failed to think of that.
The miracle item that had brought warmth to the North: the ondol. Naturally, it consumed timber.
Compared to those bizarre old campfires, the heating efficiency is genuinely high—but high efficiency doesn't mean the consumption is zero.
The Annals of the Joseon Dynasty even record that once the ondol became popular, people cut every tree off the surrounding mountains until the hillsides went bald.
At first introduction, everyone had been stunned by the sheer efficiency. But efficient is not the same as free.
And on top of that, building one hearth per Cat Tribe member has blown the consumption numbers sky-high.
I flinched at the unexpected problem.
"Are you short right now?"
"Not yet, nyang."
"How long until it runs out, do you think?"
"It should last until the sun rises about four hundred more times, nyang."
What? So there's still quite a bit left?
No—more importantly—
"…You're already looking that far ahead?"
"The hearth is a matter of life and death, nyang."
This simple Cat Tribe girl was projecting a year into the future. How dead serious was she about those hearths?
Anyway—there's still some room to breathe.
A year wasn't that long, but it wasn't a top-priority crisis I had to solve this second, either. There were already enough problems piled up. Still, better safe than sorry—I filed it away in the back of my mind.
And then—
"Young Master!!"
A frantic voice cut in.
For some reason, Max—who had only just left—came tearing back in at roughly twice the speed he'd left with, as if he'd gone out purely to build up momentum.
"We're in trou— Miss Yumi?"
"It's Yumi, nyang."
Stepping into the office, Max spotted Yumi and started. He seemed to weigh for a moment whether he should say this in front of her—then opened his mouth anyway.
"We're in serious trouble!"
"Trouble? Where?"
"The mining village!"
"What? Don't tell me… the mine collapsed?!"
"No. Not that. A dungeon has been discovered in the mine!"
"A dungeon…?"
When he first said there was big trouble at the mining village, I'd immediately pictured a disaster born of shoddy technique—a mine burial. I'd half-wondered whether this world was about to reenact those miracle apartments that show their bare skeleton a week after construction. Fortunately, it wasn't that.
But what the hell is a dungeon?
In the original's memories, only fragmentary knowledge remained—something about a subspace where space itself was distorted. That had been enough to get by in this world, because dungeons were rare enough that even an ordinary medieval person could live a whole life without ever running into one.
Then Max spoke again.
"We've already sealed off all approaches to the area. A survey team will be dispatched next."
"Ah, I see. But what's in there that makes this such a crisis?"
"I don't know."
"Pardon?"
"Until you enter a dungeon, there's no way to know what's inside. The best you can do is survey the mana stability to gauge the danger level—but in the end, the only way to learn the details is to go in yourself. And by imperial law, every dungeon discovered in the Empire must be reported to the Imperial Family."
"Hmm. Is that so? What's the mana stability looking like?"
"Thankfully, it's stable. They say it doesn't look like it's about to rupture and spill its contents anytime soon."
"Then there's no major problem, is there?"
"Well… even so, we should still report to the Imperial Family…"
"Ah. That part should be fine."
The original didn't know exactly what a dungeon was—but the administrative knowledge of how to handle one was still in there.
"By the authority granted to the Grand Duchy by the First Emperor, dungeons may also be handled independently."
"Is that so? This old butler is hearing that for the first time…"
"It is. And I understand. It's been so long since a dungeon last appeared, after all."
No dungeon had been discovered since the original body was born. The fact that one had turned up now was a little strange, but—
"Anyway, the important thing isn't that. It's what's inside the dungeon."
"I'll confirm as quickly as possible and submit a report."
"No. This time, I'll go myself."
"What? You personally, Young Master?! Absolutely not! It could be dangerous!!"
"Dangerous?"
"With the Grand Young Master also away, how can you go there yourself! Sir Bearwolf happens to be on site—please order him to conduct the reconnaissance directly."
For the record, Darius was currently out on business. You might wonder how a Grand Duchy heir could be that busy—but then you remembered that this body's father, the Grand Duke himself, still hadn't come down from the Great Wall.
"Well, my brother may be gone, but someone else is here, aren't they?"
"Someone else?"
"Miss Yumi. Would you be able to protect me?"
"Of course, nyang!"
The Grand Young Master of the North might be absent—but the Grand Young Lady of the Cat Tribe was present.
Yumi, who had been idly swaying her tail, raised a cat-punch at my SOS and shouted with full force.
"If it's Miss Yumi…"
Max, who had been about to roar absolute opposition, shifted to a maybe-we-can-leave-it-to-her expression the moment Yumi volunteered as escort. I didn't know her exact combat level myself, but judging by the way people around her talked, she had to be absurdly strong.
"Then it's decided. Let's move out at once."
A dungeon, huh.
I really hoped something profitable would come out of it.
"You've arrived, Young Master."
At the mouth of the mine I found Bearwolf already waiting to receive us. He'd been contacted ahead of time and had finished every preparation for dungeon entry. Fully geared up, he looked ready for serious business.
"Everything's ready, then?"
"Yes. You need only step inside."
"Thank you. Though I probably shouldn't say this—you're not even trying to stop me?"
"Haha. You're not the sort who listens when told no, are you?"
The thoroughly enlightened look on Bearwolf's face carried the weight of every ridiculous stunt the original body had ever pulled.
Outstanding work, original. You already laid all the groundwork for me.
The original had been so busy collapsing from overreach that Bearwolf no longer bothered arguing—he simply focused on my safety and escort. I mentally thanked him for skipping the page-eating persuasion sequence and followed him deeper in.
After a few hours of pushing farther into the mine, a portal finally appeared ahead of us—space itself warping and rippling like a heat haze.
Looks like something straight out of a game.
I stared, fascinated, and Bearwolf added a briefing.
"For reference, based on the advance scouts' report, the climate inside is completely different from the North. Extremely warm and humid. So even if you feel hot, do not remove your armor. Keep it on at all times."
Huh? That's possible?
"It's a dungeon. A space-distorted dungeon might as well be an entirely separate world from the outside."
"Understood. Then let's go in."
"I'll take the lead. Follow me."
I followed Bearwolf into the dungeon portal.
Woom—
A moment later, a bizarre sensation washed over me, and my feet touched down in another space entirely.
If I had to compare it: the boarding feel of a military transport with no pressurization at all, cranked up to double strength.
I was used to it, so it barely registered—but when I opened my eyes, the other soldiers were clutching their mouths in a hurry.
"Urgh—!"
"Uwek, nyang!"
Yumi was reeling too. Leaving them to it, I slowly took in the surroundings.
Sure enough, warm, damp air pressed against my skin. Beyond that, massive plants grew in dense thickets.
Something that looked a little like rice plants, only their stalks easily topped five or six meters and more closely resembled bamboo.
They swayed in the wind kicked up by our whole party arriving—and then,
Pewng—!
Something shot out from between them.
Uh… uh?
A point that swelled to fill my vision as it closed in.
And of all directions, it was coming straight at me—
Puhk—!
A sharp, wet sound of flesh being pierced rang out.