Treasure Hunting Is Something Anyone Can Enjoy

The edited video Noise had built on top of my footage stirred up a far bigger response than I had expected.

In a mere twenty-four hours since upload, it had blown clean past ten thousand views!

At this rate, I couldn't help thinking it might hit fifty thousand within a month.

And of course, the comments, views, likes, and subscriptions on this Olive video would all convert into CP as well… so in the long run, I could pull in CP no different from what I'd earn streaming live.

"Noise! We did it! You're the best!"

"…The best?"

"Yeah! Helping you really was the best choice I ever made!"

Overjoyed, I scooped up Noise—who had been quietly reading a book on the bed—into my arms, lifted her feather-light body, and spun her around and around.

Who would have thought Noise would turn out to be such a lucky charm? All that trouble I'd gone through to help her had been worth it.

Not that I would have regretted my actions even if she hadn't been any help at all.

"…Thanks."

"I should be the one thanking you! Is there anything you want to eat? I'll make whatever you want."

"Then… I want to try this."

Noise tapped my arms where they were wrapped around her waist, asking to be let down, then scurried over to the bed, picked up her book, and came back to me.

It was a novel I'd created so she wouldn't get bored. Noise pointed a finger at a word written inside.

The word was, of all things, red bean bun. I blinked at the completely unexpected request, then told her that much was easy and spread my palm wide open.

"Creation!"

Of course, I didn't actually have any data on red bean buns.

I'd gotten the hang of bread while making sandwiches, but when it came to the red bean paste filling, I didn't even know where to start.

But it was fine. Whatever I was missing, Teacher CP would take care of.

"Here you go."

"This is… a red bean bun…!"

Because I had no data on red bean buns, the CP cost came out to a full five thousand. The amount I'd created wasn't large, but since it was food for Noise, I couldn't bring myself to make it low-quality—so the cost had shot way up.

Still, I had no regrets. If spending CP I could always earn again made Noise happy right now, wasn't that enough?

Her eyes are sparkling. So cute. …Alright, time I got to my own work.

I watched Noise sit on the floor and carefully nibble at the palm-sized red bean bun, then turned my gaze toward the front door.

What I had to do was simple and, at the same time, extremely difficult.

I had to go back to the junkyard I'd visited before.

I might end up in danger again… but right now, I needed that process more than anything.

That junkyard is seriously useful. Even one intact find is enough content for a whole stream.

The yoga and anime I'd pulled from there last time had gotten a great reaction from viewers, hadn't they?

For a broadcasting newbie like me who wasn't exactly gifted with words, that kind of material was an essential ingredient for keeping things interesting.

And who knows—maybe what I really want is sitting in there too.

If my hunch was right, something guaranteed to be a massive hit might be sleeping in that junkyard.

Namely… games that had been popular before the Great War!

I've looked into this world's internet streaming from every angle, but maybe because culture itself got wrecked, there isn't a single broadcaster who specializes in game commentary. In other words… this is a blue ocean among blue oceans!

Find a game and stream myself playing it. There were a few problems with that plan, though.

First: online games were almost certainly off the table.

Those needed live servers and other people to play with. So even if I found a game, I'd only be able to play titles built for single-player.

Well, just being able to play anything at all was something to be grateful for, so that wasn't really a deal-breaker.

Second! Even if I found a game, if it wasn't something that ran on a PC, I might have to find a dedicated console too.

If I dug up something made for a Nin*ndo Switch or a Pl*ystation, I'd have to create the console itself before I could use it on stream.

How much CP would that even burn…? It definitely wouldn't be cheap enough to whip up after a day or two of streaming.

And third.

"Where the hell am I supposed to find one in a junkyard that huge…"

"…Hm?"

"Ah, nothing. Noise. Just talking to myself."

I quietly sighed to myself so Noise, still chewing on her red bean bun, wouldn't hear.

Hard roads really were hard for a reason.

For now, I filed away the fact that games were extremely valuable and decided not to hang my entire hopes on finding one.

People who get their hopes up end up disappointed. Better to treat it as a nice bonus if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I found one, and only mildly disappointing if I didn't.

Alright then… time to pack my gear.

With that thought, I sat down at the computer and opened my status.

Just yesterday I'd burned through all my CP making Noise's body. Then I'd earned fifty thousand from streaming, spent some creating meals for Noise, and made about twenty thousand more from the edited video—leaving me with sixty-one thousand CP.

Still, with this much… it should be more than enough for the things I'd already planned to make.

The dark world beyond the front door—commonly known as the Abyss.

Through various experiments, I'd managed to figure out at least some of the rules that governed this place.

One of those rules was… that I couldn't use my Creation ability out here.

So every piece of gear had to be made at home ahead of time and packed separately before I left. A real pain.

And there was another rule just as important.

Anything I created had a limited lifespan out in this exterior space.

The styrofoam stairs I'd made last time collapsing, the rope snapping—that was all because of this time limit.

Turning that over in my mind, I poked my head out past the front door.

A few hours ago I'd stuck candles on either side of the doorway, and now only one of the two was still going.

Those two candles had each cost a different amount of CP. The meaning was obvious.

And the cheaper ones, made with less CP, have shorter lifespans. In other words, connecting the junkyard to the house means paying a matching price. Something like that.

It was a real headache.

No matter how much CP I spent, if the path eventually vanished, I'd have to burn a set amount of CP every single trip.

If I was going to visit the junkyard, I'd need to bring back something valuable enough to justify the return trip. Otherwise I'd just be throwing CP into the void.

…But what even is this thing? How is it still perfectly fine after sitting outside this long?

Wondering that, I stretched my arm out past the doorway and carefully pulled free the scissor blade lodged in the ceiling.

A massive blade made of a beautiful black jewel that called obsidian to mind.

It looked like it would hurt terribly if it cut you—and yet days after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠being left outside, its appearance hadn't changed at all.

As if this one object alone existed in some exception zone, free from the concept of a time limit.

…No idea. Well, whatever. For now I should just be glad it's been a huge help.

Lucky break, I supposed. Without this thing on my first expedition, I never would have made it home. Looking back, I'd really owed it a massive debt of gratitude.

I stroked the black scissor blade in silent thanks, then stared out into the dark with a thoroughly serious expression.

I've got a stream tomorrow, so today's exploration should only take about a day. That means I just need to make something that can last that long.

The lag between thought and action was very short.

Decision made, I immediately opened one hand and spent CP to create an object.

"Creation."

What appeared was a thick, long rope.

Length: twenty-two meters, same as before. But the material was anything but cheap.

This was a polyamide rope that had cost over ten thousand CP. Its strength under knots was its selling point.

I tied one end to the scissor blade's handle and the other to the bathroom doorknob inside the house—strong and solid enough that the knots would never come loose under ordinary circumstances.

With that safety ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠measure in place, I called over to Noise on the bed.

"I'm heading out for a bit. Watch the house for me, okay? I'll leave some food on the desk—grab some if you get hungry."

"Okay."

Obviously I couldn't take Noise exploring with me.

Just getting there and back was a whole ordeal, and the dark depths below were still a dangerous place where anything could happen.

I could barely look after myself as it was, so she had to stay home.

Still, in case she got hungry while I was gone, I created about three sandwiches and set them on a plate.

Then I checked my gear one more time.

A bag for carrying finds, spare rope for emergencies, a flashlight that should last about a day. Clothes can just be my default outfit. The shoes are a little uncomfortable, but whatever.

Good. Gear check complete.

I'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠considered making a compass or a watch in case I got lost… but I doubted a compass would work properly down there. It'd just be a waste of CP.

Better to leave trail markers in the junkyard and carve out a path home that way.

As for a weapon… the scissor blade should do. It's harder and sharper than anything I could make right now.

Having finished Noise's food and my gear check, I headed for the front door.

I flung it wide open, gripped the scissor blade in a reverse hold… and hurled it like a javelin straight at the scrap heap visible far below!

Crack!

I shone the flashlight down and confirmed the blade had lodged firmly in a gap in the scrap pile.

Now all that was left was to climb down the rope attached to it.

A truly crude method of travel—one I could only pull off thanks to a body that had grown steadily stronger as I accumulated CP.

"Alright, I'm off!"

"Come back safe."

After one last goodbye to Noise, I threw myself out the front door without the slightest hesitation.

I wasn't worried about the rope snapping. I'd deliberately spent a ton of CP on a sturdy line—and I already knew that neither the scissor blade nor the bathroom doorknob could be broken by my current strength.

I slid smoothly down the rope and landed gently on the scrap heap.

The somewhat heeled shoes I was wearing made my balance wobble for a second, but sturdy ankles and solid muscle forced my body steady.

"Alright then—time to go treasure hunting!"

My heart was pounding. What kind of haul would I come home with today?

All I could do was desperately hope I'd find something both the viewers and I would love.