The Rogue Prosecutor’s Survival Guide in Another World - Chapter 7: Mosquito (Part 2)
Special investigative request document for the murder, robbery, and kidnapping case inside Clovan Dungeon.
Advance fee: 50 million Cram.
Success bonus: 100 million Cram.
Additional notes: Special personnel may be supplemented if necessary.
[Special Request Received]
Clovan Dungeon Murder-Robbery-Kidnapping Case
Fee Structure: 50M Advance / 100M Success Bonus
"It's always my best effort."
"Do you need anyone else?"
"No, nothing special."
"As expected. Mister Blood. But just in case, I'll send one knight from the Capital Defense Force."
"I appreciate the consideration. I'll make sure not to damage this precious manpower."
"Hah. As long as Mister Blood doesn't get hurt, I'm fine. Success is guaranteed, of course."
With his signature sharp laugh, Headquarters Chief Frida hung up.
It seemed the Capital Defense Force was particularly cautious about me.
They weren't showing it, but the mosquito bastard had been causing them real headaches.
One sneaky intruder was chomping away at the dungeon's order and the safety of hunters.
I instructed Marian and Pisage, the office chief, to prepare for fieldwork on the dungeon murder case.
"We'll be heading to Clovan Dungeon for investigation in two weeks. Personnel will be supplemented a bit more. The case is Black Level."
Black Level.
It meant a case where, considering difficulty and importance, we could get all personal and material damages exempted due to politics or public attention.
And any spoils obtained during the investigation belonged to all participants.
It was dangerous, but the reward was worth it if we succeeded.
"Wow!"
Marian slammed her fist on the desk and cheered.
Huh? Did this girl have honor or greed?
"This is my first assignment, Senior!"
She shouted with sparkling eyes.
Marian's reaction to the special mission document for the dungeon robbery-murder-kidnapping case was pure excitement.
"If I have a dream, it's traveling. A lady from a cold city heading out. Jingle, jingle."
...Had she been dreaming something weird...
"Robbery, murder, kidnapping."
I shook my head, but
"That's just what we do, right?"
Marian shrugged and said it casually.
"Besides, it's a dungeon. Extremely dangerous. No one knows what'll happen."
Yet Marian waved her hand and burst out laughing.
"Pfft, we've been talking about dungeons forever. Even our 500-year-old grandma goes there."
"Oh! Actually, I went on a school trip to a dungeon before. It was in the Norndell region."
Marian smiled, showing perfect teeth.
"I'm planning a weekend trip to the Peladia Dungeon next month."
While working on paperwork, Pisage, the office chief, suddenly joined the conversation.
"Investigator, the world has changed a lot. Nowadays dungeons are full tourist attractions."
There was a hint of anticipation in Pisage's voice.
Hmm... The world has changed a lot...
Of course. With the Gilorian Empire's advanced technology, high-performance weapons and clever artifacts were being made.
Thanks to that, dungeon monster hunting difficulty dropped sharply.
Some dungeons even offered tourists defensive gear and weapons, turning them into adventure tour courses.
Sort of like jungle tours on Earth.
"But, Inspector Marian. Clovan's dungeon is different from others."
Pisage continued while organizing a stack of documents.
True.
No matter how advanced, some spaces couldn't be perfectly controlled by human effort.
Like Clovan's dungeon.
Just knowing the Dungeon Headquarters was right in Clovan City and operated directly under the Emperor—unlike other agencies—let me guess the difficulty was on another level.
"When I was an active dungeon hunter, Clovan Dungeon was pure terror."
Pisage's voice was calm, but heavy memories lingered underneath.
Clovan Dungeon. An unknown space that would never be conquered.
Compared to other dungeons, it had an overwhelming number of monsters and many high-level ones.
Thanks to that, the amount of crystals obtained from hunting was remarkably high.
Sometimes you could even get superior treasures or essences.
That's why it was treated like a holy site for many dungeon hunters.
"Once, as a 5th-grade hunter who decorated the magazine cover, I'd say it's fine if you have good gear."
He flicked his freshly ironed white shirt.
Pisage's lips twitched.
Magazine...
That must mean Blue Hunter Magazine's model.
There was a time when they selected the month's hunter for the cover.
Mainly new 5th-grade hunters.
Above that, they were very rare even in the Gilorian Empire.
"Wow, Office Chief Pisage, you were a 5th-grade hunter?
Marian's eyes widened.
5th-grade and above hunters who could enter the dangerous dungeon where high-grade crystals were obtained got a lot of spotlight.
"Well, that's me. But Mister Zeo Blood still remains a legend in the hunter club."
"Were you a dungeon hunter too, Investigator?"
Marian stared at me with big eyes.
"Quite famous back then. When I left the path, people would swarm, and if I smiled even a little... ugh... What rank was I?"
"14th Grade."
Pisage's shoulders jerked.
Dungeon hunter ranks went from 1st to 15th.
Newbies started at 1st and promoted based on results.
Considering crystals obtained, monsters defeated, and various stats.
Higher rank meant more benefits in the Gilorian Empire.
From tax cuts to retirement pensions.
That's why this work was under the exclusive authority of the Capital Defense Force's Dungeon Hunter Headquarters.
I was one of the 14th-grade hunters.
By the way, 15th-grade was reserved only for the Emperor.
The Emperor had never entered a dungeon.
It was just a birthright like innate talent.
But what was the point of the rank?
Even a moment of carelessness could kill a human's flesh.
"Huh? 14th Grade?"
"The Investigator was a legend of dungeon hunters."
Pointless lineup.
"Be careful in dungeons. They can change anytime. More than anything, there's no telling what monster is inside."
Inside dungeons, besides monsters, unexpected things jumped out and took lives suddenly.
Even high-rank hunters could die if their hearts were pierced and lungs filled with water.
"Enough gossip. For this trip, I'll lead the preparation with Pisage, the office chief who has dungeon experience."
I spread out the Clovan Dungeon map and examined a few highlighted spots.
I had a chronic ailment. Flat feet.
The big toe was bent inward too much at the joint with the second toe, and the metatarsal bone of the big toe was twisted inward.
That's why, even as a Korean prosecutor back then, I wore sneakers instead of dress shoes.
But the Gilorian Empire had no sneakers.
Shoes there were only of the walker style, differing only by the outer material.
Whether leather or elf-produced cloth.
By the way, elf shoes were made using cheap goblin labor, so they were 1/10th the price of leather ones.
"You always wear dwarf-made leather shoes, Investigator."
Marian narrowed her eyes and looked at my feet carefully.
The sunlight reflected off the dwarf leather shoes and looked shiny.
"Since we never know what'll happen during the case, we need sturdy shoes. Especially in a dungeon."
Pisage, the office chief, was also wearing shoes that looked like they had been crafted by a dwarf artisan.
"That's easy. Just add some reinforcement magic."
Marian grumbled.
Since Marian was an elf, she probably had pride in elven technology.
But the reason I loved dwarf leather shoes wasn't just safety.
"My feet are a bit special."
Once, I accidentally met a goblin who got lost on the road.
Dirty clothes, blunt speech. Of course people avoided him.
Me too.
But why couldn't I just pass by that day? I don't know.
Evening after the heat died down. On a dark street, I squatted and saw clean new shoes in the goblin's dirty hands.
The goblin didn't know his own name or home.
I took him to the police station.
Unlike other races, goblins had their fingerprints specially collected and registered.
It made finding their residence easy since we had all their info.
'No fingerprints?'
A police officer checking internally said.
'Huh?'
I asked again,
'There are goblins like that. Elves' custom shoe factory made them sew too much, wearing away the fingerprints. Then they send them to the city when they're sick or old, to get lost on the road. Basically abandonment.'
The police said with a straight face.
'But this goblin's owner seems kind. He paid retirement pay.'
'?'
The police read my eyes and pointed at the goblin with his chin.
'He gave him new shoes.'
The goblin's tattered hand held a pair of shoes like treasure.
'Flint.'
I bent down and spoke to the goblin sitting crumpled on the floor.
'Gya, gya, hah? Gya.'
The goblin looked up with wide eyes.
'Your name. From now on, your name is Flint.'
'Fl... Flint... gya... gya... this... name... gya... Fl... Flint. Flint. Flint...'
The goblin repeated the name I made up blankly, puzzled.
After that, I only wore Borin's dwarf leather shoes.
Maybe A/S for the recommendation? Borin took Flint as an employee because he said he was a career type.
"Here."
Pisage's serious, low voice came.
I looked up. A sign read [Eternal Arms].
Borin's weapon shop.
Ding.
"M... Mister... s... sir... p... please... y... you... you have come... I... I'm Prosecutor Zeo B... Blood..."
A goblin in a rough black suit, Flint, bowed politely.
He looked cleaner than before.
His speech was still blunt, but his face looked livelier.
Then our eyes met the dwarf coming out from the back of the shop in work clothes.
The dwarf nodded.
Borin Thunderforge, the shop owner.
The Thunderforge family name meant power of thunder.
Just the name told us this was a long-established blacksmith descendant.
Thanks to the dwarf's terrifying strength and fine craftsmanship, Thunderforge weapons had exceptional performance.
They used rare and expensive materials, but the price was 3-4 times higher.
Still, everyone acknowledged their quality.
The owner wasn't friendly.
He didn't even greet regular customers after 10 years of trading.
That was fine with me.
"Everyone, don't worry about the budget. Pick what you need. Today's Mr. Demison is paying."
I chose light, sturdy mithril armor. A basic item with no special decorations.
I didn't pick a weapon specially.
The familiar one in my hand was best.
An old dagger was sheathed at my waist.
On the other hand, Pisage, the office chief, approached the blacksmith master Borin at the counter.
"Borin. There's an important request. Not a simple weapon. One that contains our dwarves' tradition and technology."
Borin nodded at Pisage's serious expression.
"Tell me what you want, Pisage."
Pisage cleared his throat and spoke slowly.
"I want to make a Rune Cannon. A weapon specially designed for our dwarves—small but the strongest."
"Rune Cannon..."
Borin's eyes widened in shock.
"Length about 1 meter, weight around 200 kg. Actually weight doesn't matter. Just make it easy to carry. Body made of solid steel, outer decorated with ancient runes. Later reinforced with magical protection. The firing tube slightly expanded, smoothed inside for smooth magic bullet launch. Grip material chosen for good feel, and especially wrapped in leather so it doesn't slip."
While listening, Borin pulled out paper and started scribbling urgently.
"The rest I'll figure out, but remember these two. Powerful rune explosion power. And protection function."
"Rune explosion power and protection?"
Pisage nodded slowly at Borin's question.
"When you pull the trigger, the embedded rune activates and the bullet gets powerful magic energy. And when attacked, the Rune Cannon must automatically create a shield, so a 1-meter steel shield should extend."
Borin smiled while writing the memo.
"Interesting. Any other requirements?"
Pisage shook his head.
"That's enough. We'll compete on tradition and technology, and make the ultimate dwarf masterpiece, the Rune Cannon."
Pisage and Borin shook hands with a hot grip.
It looked like a forge master was igniting a flame on the chest.
"S... so how much... is that?"
Marian, listening silently to the two dwarves, asked.
"Pricing isn't worth discussing honor."
Pisage lowered his gaze and spoke calmly, and Borin nodded.
Marian's expression turned uneasy.
I felt the same.
But quietly listening...
It felt familiar.
A desert with sand blowing, wearing green clothes, ready to shout.
Portable size and weapon ammunition guide.
That's RPG, right?
RPG-7.
Rocket Propelled Grenade.