The Offline Meetup Ends

A cold silence settled over the room.

The Dimension History Gallery. The Pottery Gallery. Members of the Magic Gallery—and the Adventurer Gallery people right along with them—all kept their mouths firmly shut.

The Lord of the Black Magic Tower, who had come rushing down the moment he got word, was picking his way carefully across the floor, reading the room, while the other mages of the Black Magic Tower watched every shift in the air, braced for whatever might explode next.

Of course.

"My Lord. That person looks extremely angry. If—if she starts something… can you subdue her?"

"If I could do that, I'd be a Hero myself instead of a Magic Tower Lord. Just keep your head down and stay quiet. Best we can hope for is that she isn't actually that mad."

They were watching. That was all. If things truly went sideways, not a soul in the room had the power to stop her.

The Lord of the Twilight Magic Tower, Archmage Coldrock, might have been able to scrape by—but even he would be in danger facing a Hero.

"When I posted that verification thread in the gallery, all of you said it was fake. Said I was lying. Said it was some illusion-magic trick. Well? Still look like a lie to you? Huh?"

The woman with the navy-blue hair growled the words out.

Her clothes were little more than scraps of fabric; more of her body was bare than covered. Yet among the rough, lawless adventurers packing the room, not one of them could even meet her eyes properly.

"Memorize my username right. And the next time I drop a verification post, you praise it and cheer. Laughing at the gallery is the only fun I get, so from now on that's how it works. Clear?"

"Yes. Understood."

The Guildmaster of the Adventurers' Guild—an S-rank whose influence rivaled that of any minor kingdom's king—did not dare so much as squeak. He simply bowed his head in silence.

"And the ones who see my username and come crawling over to act buddy-buddy? Those bastards piss me off too. The Adventurer Gallery is fun because you get to watch the complaints and daily lives of pathetic low-tier adventurers. Keep that core intact. Who cut down more monsters, who's stronger, that guy's face makes me lose my appetite—posts like that kill the fun. Got it?"

"Yes! We'll do exactly that!"

The adventurers—even the barbarians among them—answered in perfect, fluent Valrod Empire Common, shouting as one like a chorus.

"Good."

And just like that, the conversation died.

The master craftsmen of the Pottery Guild were eyeing the exits, clearly wondering whether now was the moment to bolt. The users of the Dimension History Gallery were frantically recording every word and gesture with magic. As for the Magic Gallery? A few wore the giddy smiles of people who had finally laid eyes on a real Hero; most simply looked terrified that this absurd, out-of-spec monster might decide to go on a rampage.

Dungeon Slayer took in every reaction and gave a bitter little smile.

"Right. I've seen your faces. That's enough."

She rose from her seat and set her name tag down.

"I'll still post in the gallery now and then, so just give me some nice reactions, yeah? All right. I'm heading out—"

Leaving? Like hell she was.

I cut Dungeon Slayer off mid-sentence.

"Well! Now that Dungeon Slayer is here too, that means the whole Adventurer Gallery is gathered, right? Right? You can't leave already—I've still got so many events prepared."

Dungeon Slayer blinked at me. Every eye in the room locked onto me at once. I raised my voice so the entire crowd could hear.

"Now that you're ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠here, your real identity doesn't matter. You're just another Soulnet user enjoying the galleries. So stay, play, and have fun. Whether you're actually a Hero or a third-rate adventurer—who cares? What matters is that you enjoyed being part of the gallery. Am I wrong?"

The rigid tension in the air loosened, just a fraction. I seized the opening and pushed the situation forward at once.

"All right! Since we're all here anyway—let's have some fun! Starting now, the Adventurer Gallery is holding a sparring tournament! You all seem to love a good fight, so why don't the gallery users go all out against each other? Your opponent: Dungeon Slayer herself, right here! We'll see who can last the longest against her!"

The Adventurer Gallery users' eyes shifted. The fear from moments ago had vanished, replaced by bright interest. And Dungeon Slayer—the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bitter smile was gone. She was grinning like this actually sounded fun.

"I'll use five percent of my magic output. Just that much. Should make for decent entertainment, right?"

I picked up right where she left off.

"Perfect! Then here's the rule: if anyone forces Dungeon Slayer to put out more than five percent of her magic, that person wins! If no one manages it, the one who lasts the longest is the winner! How's that sound?"

Ironblood Sword Emperor—manager of the Adventurer Gallery and Guildmaster of the Adventurers' Guild—shook his head slowly.

"Sounds entertaining enough… but if we start a fight in here, the main tower of the Black Magic Tower could collapse. Elsi Bwener."

"Valid point! But no need to worry!"

I turned toward the Magic Gallery members.

"Because we have people here who can build an arena that won't break even if a Hero goes wild! Indestructible magic and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a domain field—can you manage that? Magic Tower Lords? And I would especially love to request the help of Archmage Coldrock!"

The response came immediately.

"A domain field that can withstand a rampaging Hero? Now that's an interesting problem."

"It'll need to handle physical impact and raw magic output both, won't it?"

"And the spectators outside need to be able to watch, so we'll want a transparency function as well. Haha! What a delightful little diversion. Shall we design one?"

While the mages clustered together and began constructing a magic circle, I headed for the Pottery Gallery.

"And for the winner's trophy—Pottery Gallery, you're up! These are rough customers, so make it grand and solid! An unbreakable trophy, please!"

The pottery masters burst out laughing, clearly entertained by the idea.

"Excellent. Let's do it."

"A chance to watch a Hero fight up close? Sounds fascinating."

"No proper kiln on hand, so we'll have to improvise. Luckily the mages are here—we'll need to borrow a bit of magical power."

"Anyone who can handle flame-type, earth-type, and water-type magic?"

"We've brought a little glaze with us!"

As for the Dimension History Gallery, I didn't need to do a thing.

"Record it! Right now!"

"A chance to witness one of the Ten Heroes in combat!"

"This has to be preserved as historical material! Historical material!"

They were already in a frenzy, capturing every conversation, every movement, every scene with magic so nothing would be lost.

And once things started moving this way, the Adventurer Gallery came roaring back to life.

"I'm the Guildmaster, so I fight the Hero first. Anyone got a problem with that?"

"Then let's decide who goes after the Guildmaster!"

"No brawling out of turn—we'll rank ourselves the Assassin Guild way! Rules are simple: draw a circle, and the bastard who gets shoved outside loses!"

A circle was drawn. Adventurers slammed into one another, shouting and grappling in a chaotic free-for-all. Dungeon Slayer seemed thoroughly amused by the spectacle; she snickered as she watched them thrash it out.

Snacks and food were laid out in abundance. So were drinks and alcohol. The Third Elder wandered the crowd with missionary zeal, handing out his business cards and pitching Black Magic Tower teleport scrolls. The Tower Lord and the other Black Magic Tower mages finally let their shoulders drop a little, laughing and chatting among themselves.

Meanwhile—

"All right! The domain field is complete! Fight inside this!"

A domain field strong enough to contain a Hero's battle had been finished. The magnificent magic, woven jointly by Archmage Coldrock and the Magic Tower Lords, produced a translucent square barrier. The instant it took shape, Dungeon Slayer slipped inside.

"Come on, then, you little brats! Any of you with the guts to challenge a Hero—step up!"

The Guildmaster roared with laughter and leapt in after her.

And so the duels began.

The historians and maesters of the Dimension History Gallery were frantic, documenting every detail with obsessive care.

"To receive direct assistance from the Crimson Magic Tower Lord… haha! What an honor!"

"I've always admired the works produced by you pottery masters. Heh! The honor is entirely mine!"

Off to one side, Pottery Gallery and Magic Gallery members collaborated on a magnificent, rock-solid earthenware trophy.

In the midst of the cheerful chaos the matches rolled on. Most fighters were cut down inside twenty seconds, but the adventurers looked overjoyed simply to have traded blows with a Hero.

After nearly two hours of marathon combat, the result was finally declared.

"And the winner is the Guildmaster and manager of the Adventurer Gallery—Ironblood Sword Emperor!"

"You see that, you worthless trash?! Wahahaha!"

Having lasted more than a full minute against a Hero, the Guildmaster claimed the grand trophy forged by the Pottery Gallery.

Applause. Laughter. And after that came the hour of drinks and snacks.

Everyone laughed, talked, and celebrated. Even Dungeon Slayer mixed into the crowd, drinking and clearly having a good time.

I laughed too.

I'm alive. If that Hero had actually snapped, we would have been finished.

Inwardly I kept letting out sigh after sigh of relief.

And, as always, an end finally arrived.

"Let's meet again sometime! Keep up the gallery posts! That glaze technique from last time was truly excellent!"

"It's been a long while since I enjoyed myself this much. Eldrad. Until next time."

"Haha! Travel safely, Lord Coldrock!"

"I'm only B-rank and I lasted ten seconds against a Hero! Ten seconds! Did you see me slip that hair attack?!"

One by one people vanished from the Black Magic Tower, riding teleport circles and jump points. Cleanup fell to me and the Black Magic Tower staff—but we hadn't come out behind.

"Hehehe! We locked down several Soulnet advertising contracts!"

"Well done, Third Elder."

"Quite a few people were interested in the teleport scrolls as well. We closed a number of deals! Hahaha!"

The Third Elder's delighted laughter said everything.

"Elsi Bwener, was it?"

While the last of the crowd filtered out, the navy-haired woman who had remained until the very end walked over to me.

Dungeon Slayer.

No—now that the offline meetup was over, it was time to address her by her proper name.

"It is an honor to meet one of the Ten Heroes."

"Enough. Why all the formality? Thanks to the Soulnet you made, I've been having a great time lately. I'm grateful. You created a fine piece of magic."

"Haha, not at all."

Then a thought flashed through my mind.

The long-range teleport scrolls the Third Elder had been pushing. Their range was supposed to be enormous, wasn't it?

And after watching her casually suppress the rowdy Adventurer Gallery crowd today, I realized I was going to need this person's help more often than I liked to admit.

On Earth, the worst community disasters usually ended in fine-worthy hate comments or a gallery getting nuked. This was a high-fantasy world. The moment I remembered the Kalaksil and Isrban mages escalating from gallery flame wars straight into real-world brawls, it was obvious that Soulnet-related incidents would keep happening—and someone would have to step in and shut them down.

"Hero."

"Hero, nothing. Embarrassing. Just call me Iomene."

"Lady Iomene. May I ask one favor?"

"What is it?"

I sprinted to the Third Elder, snatched one of the ultra-long-range Black Magic Tower teleport scrolls he carried as samples, and offered it to Iomene with both hands.

"I will compensate you more than generously. Enough that your efforts will never feel demeaning. If any Soulnet-related quarrel or fight ever grows too large, would you use this teleport scroll and come to the Black Magic Tower? I would like to entrust you with mediation—or the subdual of problem individuals."

Iomene threw her head back and laughed, opened a subspace pocket, and tossed the scroll inside.

"You know my username. If you need me, just post in the Adventurer Gallery. I'll come running."

My face lit up.

Done!

Kalaksil and Isrban mages throwing real punches? Hell, even if something far worse blew up, I now had an insurance policy I could call on.

"Thank you so much, Lady Iomene! Please continue enjoying Soulnet!"

Iomene clapped me on the shoulder a couple of times, then started walking toward the teleport circle. Halfway there she suddenly stopped dead and stared up at the ceiling of the Black Magic Tower for a long moment.

"Hero? Is there something wrong with the ceiling?"

The Tower Lord approached cautiously and asked. Iomene kept studying the ceiling with a serious expression, then snorted and waved a hand.

"Just felt the presence of a heavy-assed bastard for a second."

"Pardon?"

"It's nothing, Tower Lord. Don't worry about it."

A flash of light, and Iomene was gone.

The instant she vanished, the Tower Lord and every other Black Magic Tower mage sagged as if their strings had been cut.

"……I thought I was going to die, Elsi."

I wore the same limp, tension-drained face and let out a hollow laugh.

"Offline meetups…… let's not hold these too often, my Lord."

"Agreed."

Of all the things—to discover that a Hero was a gallery regular. I still couldn't decide whether to be delighted or terrified.