The Fugitive
Just as Alan had said—
Beep—
"See? Instant reaction."
Box slid along the maze wall, hugging it close, while at the same time not-so-subtly shuffling behind Shiva. A pointless effort, given that the automaton was even bigger than the dwarf.
"I'd have to open it eventually anyway to add Star Script."
"That part does require a magitech engineer's help, I'll grant you. Hearing you say that, it seems you've still got a long way to go before you become a true artificial spirit."
They trudged onward once more. Automatons did come bursting out of manholes, but to the current Alan they were about as threatening as mayflies, and he dispatched them in moments. Taylor and Shiva only had to flick their wrists a few times, so tension never had a chance to build.
The boredom naturally flowed into conversation.
"Am I the only one bored? Shiva, what about you?"
"I am quite content, Brother. The deeper I descend into the Labyrinth, and the more rest I grant to its monsters, the more profoundly I feel Mother's love. Where, then, would boredom find room? If it were only up to me, I sometimes think I could live down here in the Labyrinth itself."
"What about resupplying your holy water?"
"Ah, allow me to correct myself. One does need to breathe the outside air on occasion. A man can't simply live in the Labyrinth forever—we're not moles, after all."
"Alan, and you?"
"I..."
"Never mind. Forget I asked."
It was obvious he was about to say he'd be perfectly happy living in the base in the Primeval Forest. Alan's thoughts might be unreadable, but how he would act was fairly easy to predict.
"I wish we could use Spatial Gates inside the Labyrinth too. It takes about two weeks on average just to reach the Snowfield. There's no telling when we'll ever get down there."
"It would certainly be convenient. Breakfast on the surface, lunch on the 30th floor."
"The frustrating part—well, putting it crudely, the damn shame of it—is that even with magic, you can't reach or interfere with the other floors."
"There are exceptions like the Collector, of course. Though judging by how he opened a Spatial Gate only after being chased all the way to the surface by the Chairman, even that much is probably his limit."
Explorers they occasionally passed took one look at Alan's party chatting away so leisurely despite their small numbers, and gave them a wide berth.
Only three people, and they're this relaxed? That meant they were confident in their skills, and the smart move was to avoid them at all costs.
Nowhere in the world made destroying the evidence easier than the Labyrinth, so caution was warranted no matter how harmless a party looked.
Shiva started to reach out toward the departing explorers, then stopped himself.
"I see this often enough, but it still saddens me. Do I really look like such a bad man?"
"Your eyes alone look like a herbivore's, but take the whole package and you're a dwarf bandit."
"Brother..."
"Or just wear your Mother Church monk robes when you go out."
"That's actually a good idea—"
"Ah, right, that won't work. Too many armed robbers have been posing as priests to commit their crimes."
"That is absolutely unforgivable—wait. Hold on. Did you not simply say 'many,' but 'far too many'?"
"Happens all the time. Saw it on the news six months ago, come to think of it."
"Good grief..."
Perhaps thanks to all this idle chatter, the journey to the end of the 9th floor passed in no time. The entrance to the 10th floor, true to its history as a campsite where Alan had often lingered, was crowded with explorers today as well. And the atmosphere was tense.
Seeing it, Taylor lowered his voice.
"What's going on over there?"
"Not sure. There's someone I know over there—I'll go say hello."
Alan turned toward two familiar figures. Dennis, the blue-haired swordsman with the prosthetic leg, and Karkda, the Lizardman whose mana heart had once been cracked.
The explorers with them flinched as a man in a Power Suit strode toward them.
Even if Power Suits weren't unheard of, they were hardly equipment that explorers poking around the early stretches of mazes and caves would encounter easily.
When Alan raised his visor, the ever-friendly Dennis's mouth fell slightly open.
"Alan?"
"It's been a while."
"It really has—"
"We owe you a great deal from back then."
Karkda cut in, interrupting Dennis. The Lizardman's characteristically stiff, clipped speech felt, just this once, unusually soft.
"Thanks to you yielding your share of the profit, my treatment went through without a hitch."
"I'm glad it worked out."
Alan quickly scanned the explorers gathered around Karkda. None of the faces from before. After being ambushed, it wouldn't have been strange for them to have hung up their explorer's dreams for good.
More people entered the Labyrinth than ever left it—more than left, in fact—so even when gaps opened up, they filled again quickly.
"I can now cast a few basic spells without an Evie."
"Then Essel Magic Tower should be within reach. Good for you."
Karkda still cherished his dream of joining Essel Magic Tower, and Alan found it rather endearing. Dennis, who had been listening in silence, shoved his friend aside.
"My turn now. What's with the Power Suit?"
"Fought the Royal Guards on the 20th floor and took it off them."
"You're already that far down? Did you visit the Primeval Forest base too?"
"I did."
"Wow, that's seriously fast. Well, you were always something else, even back when you explored solo."
"How's the leg? Shall I take a look at it for you? It has been a while."
"I'd love that, honestly. A few days after coming down and it's already started creaking."
Alan beckoned with a gesture, and Box came rattling over. Seeing its bulk, Dennis recoiled.
"A new one, huh? Where's Leopard?"
"Behind you."
"What? Wha—!"
Dennis's shoulders lurched violently. His party members were no better. Where they had turned, a tiger-sized automaton lay crouched low—when it had arrived, nobody could say.
"It's changed a lot, hasn't it?"
"I've fitted it with this and that."
"I don't think we could take it even if we all rushed it at once."
"Oh, come now."
Alan shrugged and examined Dennis's prosthetic leg. Inspections used to eat up ages; now he could identify the problem the instant he laid eyes on it.
As he tidied the overworked mana circuits, he asked:
"What's with the mood at the campsite?"
"The police came down and made a nuisance of themselves."
"The police come all the way down here?"
"The Defense Force only guards the Labyrinth's gates, so when trouble happens, they do descend. They wore explorer gear of their own fashioning, but one look and the cop practically drips off them. Apparently they came down to catch a criminal—like that was ever going to be easy."
The Fugitive (1) — End
The Fugitive (2)
Dennis and Karkda still only went as far as the caves. They had made it to the 20th floor exactly once, and had returned without ever setting foot in the palace.
Karkda explained the reason simply enough.
"Past that point, our magicware can't hold up."
The moment they'd reached the 20th floor, their battle-worn magicware had started creaking, making the journey impossible to continue. Factoring in the return trip, keeping some strength in reserve was only prudent.
"What if you hired a magitech engineer?"
"Nobody wants to slog all the way down here just for work, and the ones who do charge a frightening fee for it."
If they had trained their pure bodies to reach the 20th floor on their own strength, such worries wouldn't even exist—but because they treated magicware as part of their capabilities, the problem arose.
"Besides, we're ordinary explorers."
Compared to an average person, Karkda was a beast of prey, sure—but even in the world of beasts, there were creatures in a class of their own.
Taylor, who had been listening from a distance, nodded along.
"That's how it usually goes. I was Depth 4 in my prime, so I've got a lost memory to chase, and you're a healer, so no need to be monstrously strong."
"I am growing swiftly as well, Brother. The longer I remain in the Labyrinth, the deeper Mother's grace flows."
"That's just because you fight so much."
"Pardon?"
"You know why hero parties level up so fast? They're fighting every single day, so their experience piles right up. When you gamble your life every battle, of course staying weak isn't an option."
"There is wisdom in that. As they say, the pain that fails to kill me makes me stronger. Then what about Brother Alan?"
"Don't bother trying to understand that one. Trust me."
Alan brought Dennis and Karkda's party down to the 20th floor. After a handful of battles, the explorers marveled at magicware that still looked brand-new.
"You really do need a magitech engineer to go deep."
"Or you could throw yourself into mana cultivation and martial training starting right now."
"You think I could manage that?"
"No."
That was the flaw of magicware, too. The difference before and after installation was so vast, and money alone made great power so easy to acquire, that explorers no longer threw themselves into training the way people once had.
Taylor found the shift deeply distasteful.
"This is what's wrong with the young ones these days. They lean on their magicware and start thinking the device is their own ability. Never forget the fundamentals. Why do you think they're called fundamentals?"
"Sound doctrine, that."
While Shiva offered his token agreement, the party strolled along a broad avenue.
The 20th floor brought a ruined city to mind. Plenty of structures that, judging by their shape, had once been high-rise towers, but the cave's height limits had left only their lower sections intact.
When a building that looked like it had once been a restaurant or a café came into view, Alan checked the time.
"It's about time for dinner. Let's rest here tonight."
"Fine by me. No sense pushing through forever just to force a breakthrough."
They positioned themselves in a spot advantageous for repelling a surprise attack, and split the duties—some stood watch, some rested, some prepared food.
Dennis was organizing the watch rotations. With more people, each shift would surely be shorter.
"Alan, just sleep."
"Why?"
"You inspected every last piece of magicware our whole party owns. I can't ask you to handle chores on top of that."
Alan genuinely enjoyed the process of finding and fixing things, and sought out the work on purpose—but he could see how others might feel very differently about it.
"You wouldn't even take payment, so honestly, at first I figured you for a sucker."
"It really wasn't difficult."
"Some humility."
Alan meant every word. It had been, exaggerating only slightly, as easy as breathing.
They had lit the mana-stone lamps, which doubled as heating and cooking tools, and were chatting idly when a noise sounded in the distance.
Dennis, who had been wiping his prosthetic leg with a soft cloth, shot to his feet.
"Automatons?"
"No. Footsteps. People."
"Ha, why the hell would they come here of all places."
The explorers, still half inside their sleeping bags, grumbled even as they scrambled out and drew their weapons.
Anyone who wasn't a known acquaintance demanded constant vigilance. Depending on the situation, even acquaintances deserved suspicion—the Labyrinth was that kind of place.
One of the explorer's rules:
Never approach another party carelessly.
Most observed this rule faithfully, but there were exceptions—namely, the armed robbers who hunted explorers' equipment and monster loot.
The explorers whose rest had been interrupted ground their teeth.
"Maggots?"
"No. They're way too brazen for that crowd. Don't tell me they're actually confident in their skills?"
The others were already using the surrounding buildings, readying for a fight—when a rough-looking group emerged.
Dennis stepped forward. His mana sword breathed out a blue blade, and his prosthetic leg hissed with steam, as if ready to launch him forward at any moment.
"Are you people insane? Walking into a site where another party is camping?"
"Harsh words for a first meeting."
Alan slowly swept his gaze over the newcomers. One of them stood out. When he peered past the holoskin, the head beneath it wasn't an orc's—it was an otter's.
Not the lush jungle otters of the lower floors, but one resembling the endearing otters of the Eastern Continent.
Name: Otto
Species: Lycan
Traits: Otter, Detective
A police officer Alan remembered—more precisely, one whose personnel file he had stored away. He had handed over the Roman Company's criminals to him once before.
One of the newcomers spoke up, as courteously as he could manage.
"If it's no trouble, might we also spend the night here?"
"Ugh, it's the cops."
"How did you know?"
At Dennis's words, one of the officers went wide-eyed.
"Isn't it obvious? What kind of explorer walks up to a site where another party's camping and asks to bunk together? If you work in the Labyrinth, you do at least some homework before you come down."
"But there was a campsite on the 9th floor—"
"That place is special. And word about you lot is already all over the Labyrinth. Besides, are you really cops? Not some scheme to spread rumors, lull us into letting our guard down, and then clean us out?"
"What? Now that's going too far."
"You should have come prepared to hear it. This is the Labyrinth."
As the atmosphere turned steadily uglier, Alan stepped forward.
"Dennis."
"What?"
"They're real police. The one in the back is the otter detective we've met before."
"Otter? Oh, the one always scowling like he's trying to look scary? Where?"
"Disguised with a holoskin, naturally."
The officers had heard that much too, and started shoving Otto forward from behind. Suddenly turned into the mouthpiece of the group, the otter attempted diplomacy.
"I invested my own salary in a fairly decent holoskin. How on earth did you see through it?"
"Just did."
Question marks bloomed across the otter's eyes. Anyway, it had been a—