The Key
“What do you mean by that?”
“The maggots on the 26th floor were wiped out a few months ago. Some of them joined the Purification Volunteer Corps.”
“And I heard several of them have already gone to Mother's side. I envy them, but I still have work left to do on the surface, you see…”
Connie, who had been standing there gaping, wrinkled the bridge of his nose at Shiva's words.
“Haa… I hate the Purification Volunteer Corps, though…”
“And I have no desire to return to the surface right now. We have a research base here. Why would we go back up?”
“That place is even worse.”
Connie, of course, had no say in the matter.
Alan strung Connie and the two ambushers together in a row and hung them behind Box. It rather resembled a slave trader's caravan. One passing exploration team mistook the group for actual maggots, but the misunderstanding was quickly cleared up when Shiva stepped forward and displayed the distinctive aura of the Mother Church.
And so they arrived at the research base on the 23rd floor. Fed nothing but water for the journey, Connie and the attackers had grown gaunt — though their faces were brighter than ever, perhaps thanks to the conviction that even in a tiger's den, their bellies would be filled.
The base was a research facility in name only; it was, in truth, a fortress. As they approached it, a mage on guard duty at the sentry post in front of the gate leapt down.
He landed lightly directly in front of Alan.
“Ah, the explorers who took on Lorenzo's commission.”
Months had passed, so it would have been reasonable for him to forget — but mages were sharp-minded creatures by nature, and he remembered.
“And the people tied up behind you?”
“Thieves who stole something from the Degree Magic Research Institute.”
“Ah, one moment…”
The mage climbed back up to the sentry post, and a few minutes later poked his head out through the window.
“Lorenzo will see you.”
“Understood.”
When Alan complied without complaint, Taylor, who was passing through the gate, asked quietly.
“That's odd — I expected you to grouse about the hassle.”
“It *is* a bother. But to secure a bigger reward, I need to speak with someone higher up — someone with real authority. We wasted time dealing with Mr. Connie here, so there ought to be some compensation for that.”
The research base looked much as it had before. In the open courtyard ringed by buildings, mages passed their time in whatever manner each saw fit.
At first glance it looked like play. Alan no longer thought so. Creative thought was born of freedom, and freedom required escaping standardized structures.
That wasn't to say the mages were only playing, of course. Essel Magic Tower was, first and foremost, a company — mages who produced results were rewarded handsomely. However relaxed they appeared, their brains were surely flooded with electrical signals and neurotransmitters at that very moment.
Lorenzo, disciple of the Tower Lord of Essel, received Alan's party in his office. His expression was placid, but his blue hair seemed to flicker like flame.
“We meet again.”
“Hello.”
An awkward silence settled for a moment. The two of them were both far removed from small talk and pleasantries.
Before getting down to business, Lorenzo glanced at Connie. The brazen thief who had talked back even while being beaten was gone; in his place remained nothing but a rabbit before a beast of prey.
“Thieves, hm.”
“Did you already know?”
“I did.”
Lorenzo pulsed a wave of mana. A mage waiting outside came in and dragged Connie and his companions away — hauling three grown adults along with ease, perhaps thanks to magicware.
Lorenzo rested his elbows on the desk and lightly propped his chin on his laced fingers.
“Any interest in taking on another job?”
“There are other—”
“Don't tell me to find someone else.”
Lorenzo had made his move before Alan could even get the words out.
“I'll pay generously — thieves' ransom included.”
“Why us?”
“Our master has many disciples. I'm one of them.”
Lorenzo rose from his seat. He was smaller in height and build than Taylor, whose body had been remade with augmentations, and yet somehow he seemed larger.
“Our master believes in growth through competition.”
“The artifact incident last time was similar, then.”
“You knew?”
“If a group attacks Essel's researchers to steal artifacts, it would have to be an organization of similar size to the Tower. Or it could be internal factional strife. And whoever supplied maggots with magitech weapons must have been one of the disciples.”
“You're right. We are rivals, and we attempt armed conflict to climb higher. But there's a problem.”
“An instruction not to waste your own employees on competition, I assume?”
“Are you reading minds? Just as you said, our master ordered us to bring in outside force to compete — while calling that, too, a form of ability.”
There would surely be a cap on the caliber of strength they were allowed to hire. Hire someone stronger than a disciple and control became difficult, not to mention it would defeat the whole purpose of the trial.
Lorenzo himself was already a Depth 5 powerhouse. Anything stronger meant Depth 6 — and how easy would it be to hire someone like that? Even if they could, it would be a problem. The moment such a person stepped in, the contest would stop being a competition and become one-sided slaughter.
“Why are you telling me all of this? Do you really think we'll accept?”
“I was born and raised in this Tower, so I know exactly how mages think. You're the same breed. Once you see this, you won't be able to refuse.”
Saying so, Lorenzo drew something from his desk drawer. It was a newspaper. Yes, you could slot a chip behind your neck, have information streamed in, and read the news anywhere via the Samramansang — but there were still those who preferred the old ways.
Taylor had a touch of that tendency himself.
“There's horse racing information in the back section. Startlingly accurate, too.”
“Old man.”
“Ahem. But why a newspaper? Wait—what is this?”
Taylor's mouth fell slightly open as he rested a hand on Alan's shoulder and gave it a small shake.
“Look at the date.”
“Yes. It's today's paper.”
Even with Sion disregarding everything else and running flat out, reaching the 23rd floor took two to three days. And yet a newspaper bearing today's date existed right before their eyes.
— The Key (1) — END —
On the surface, one could use any magic one pleased. Within the Labyrinth, however, spatial transfer and short-range Blink were impossible.
This rule had held since the Labyrinth was first discovered, and it was常识 baked into every explorer's skull — common knowledge, carved in stone.
Acts of magically interfering with another floor were equally forbidden, which was why the Collector's exploits remained one of the hottest topics in Labyrinth academia to this day.
And so — what, exactly, was the newspaper sitting in front of them? Given the weight of Lorenzo's name and position, this was far too elaborate a prank.
'How on earth did they do it?'
Several plausible methods did spring to mind at once.
Someone of the Tower Lord of Essel's or the Breaker chairman's caliber traveling at full power. Though the feasibility of that converged on zero percent.
Next: entrusting the delivery to an explorer who had invested everything in raw speed. A magicware user could simply keep burning through magic stones; a body-cultivator could keep chugging recovery potions. This option at least had some realism to it.
'Even an explorer who'd memorized every route, departing in the dead of night, would arrive late at night. It might not be enough even with a full 24 hours. And the compass is another problem entirely.'
It was currently noon — lunchtime, in other words. The surface with its Hyperloop trains was one thing, but no one could blast through the Labyrinth that fast, with its monster infestations and treacherous terrain.
The Labyrinth changes.
Anomalies of every kind occur.
Unidentified Ooparts appear.
Only recently, they had even unearthed a bizarre Oopart called the Wish Fragment.
So it was necessary to set aside cramped thinking for a moment and look at the world with an open mind.
“Could it be that you've found a way to open a Spatial Gate?”
If so, it would be a revolution of staggering proportions. Time was money — and beyond that, a precious resource whose value could not even be measured.
Plenty of explorers left the Labyrinth entirely, unable to bear the tedium of the endless cycles of ascent and descent.
Alan studied throughout his journeys, so it made no difference to him — but for most people, that time itself was a loss.
'Especially the more skilled ones, surely.'
If there existed a person whose hour was worth ten thousand coins, then there must also exist one whose hour was worth a hundred million.
Even as Alan stared intently into Lorenzo's face, the man did not answer.
“…”
“It's the Spatial Gate, isn't it?”
“First, decide whether you're accepting, or walking out of here.”
Alan ached to accept on the spot — but there was a problem.
'Shiva.'
He was murmuring a name, not a curse. The Mother Church monk Shiva weighed on his mind.
What they were about to do was neither exploration nor escort. It meant dipping a toe into the Tower's succession struggle.
Judging by the atmosphere, Lorenzo's request would be recovering a stolen key — and conflict with the other side's hired hands would be unavoidable in the process.
Alan stayed quiet, and Lorenzo glanced toward the back of the room.
“Ah, right — there was a monk. I say this out of caution, but I never attack anyone first. This whole affair began when one of the disciples sent thieves after the business I manage. Are you still deliberating?”
“Hm? Why would *I* be deliberating? Thieves deserve their punishment. The mercenaries and explorers hired on that side will know full well what they're getting into — hardly good people, either.”
Hearing Shiva's words, Alan realized he needn't have worried at all.
Shiva was a combat monk. however much religious kindness remained in him, a fighting spirit slumbered beneath it.
'So he'd have no qualms about fighting monsters as we descended, either.'
Crime is evil, and those who do evil must be punished. Shiva took this as his operating principle.
Ordinary folk needed the help of law enforcement to right their wrongs, but superhumans who had taken mana into their bodies preferred self-help.
It was a tradition stretching back from the era when fire was first discovered, all the way to the present, when colonies stood on the Moon.
Truthfully, in a world overflowing with every manner of mystery, grudges could hardly be settled any other way. Why else would corporations operate armed units?
Even so, seeing him accept so readily, one had to admit the Mother Church was far from an ordinary religion. The Purification Volunteer Corps alone made its singularity plain enough.
“Then it's decided. You'll do it?”
“Yes.”
“It's not a Spatial Gate — it's Matter Transmission. About forty days ago, a ruin was discovered somewhere in the Labyrinth. It appeared at what was clearly the edge of a floor shrouded in black mist. That had never happened before.”
“Exactly when, and where?”
“That's a secret.”
Disappointing, but unavoidable. If you'd found a ruin harboring such a mystery, hiding it was only natural. It was also presumably why Lorenzo remained in the Labyrinth despite knowing he'd been robbed.
The timing Lorenzo described was close to when Alan had obtained the Wish Fragment in the ice maze.
'Did I climb back up too hastily to examine the Fragment? I should have returned while studying it carefully…'
With a little luck, the original discoverer could have been him. Alan washed the regret away quickly and waited for Lorenzo to continue.
“We found the clue to Matter Transmission in that ruin. Only small, inanimate objects can be sent for now, but I'm confident new possibilities will keep emerging. You of all people understand how enormous an innovation that would be?”
“I do.”
It was comparable to the moment flight magic made intercontinental logistics possible. Spatial Gates had existed even before that, but exploiting them that way meant the tail wagging the dog, so it was beside the point.
“The task I want to entrust to you is the recovery of the key. Resolve it well, and I'll grant you the right to investigate the ruin. Whatever you find there, you may take.”
The investigation itself was a tremendously enticing offer. Being allowed to take what they found implied the Tower had already mined the place thoroughly — but Alan was no ordinary explorer.
'There will be Labyrinth script there, too.'
Before Alan even said yes, his head was nodding up and down on its own.
“Good — decisive, as ever. As I said, your job is finding the key. The thieves are being interrogated, so rest easy for now.”
Alan's party headed for the rooms they'd used on their previous visit. Taylor, having scrubbed off the dirt of the Primeval Forest and the machine oil of the automatons, came into Alan's room.
“This is insane.”
“I had no idea we'd be hearing this kind of talk on the way down…”
“The ruin and the key should be treated as separate matters, no?”
“Probably. Intra-Labyrinth Matter Transmission is significant enough that the Tower Lord of Essel would take personal charge, so it makes sense that Lorenzo stays down here as the site director.”
“Essel's made a colossal discovery. Their size is going to balloon.”
“They'll split the rights with the other corporations for self-defense. Trying to hoard something this delicious alone—”