Chapter 53
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: Outlier
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Chase arrived at the warehouse on the first floor.
There were three warehouses in total, and Chase's target was the one storing the explorers' corpses.
He used a goblin's claw to unlock the door.
A stench of rotting flesh, utterly unlike goblin corpses, assaulted his nose. It seemed the goblins used this to distinguish between goblin bodies and those of intruders.
Chase glanced at the corpses.
These were the mercenaries I had led into this dungeon.
They all appeared to have died midway through goblinization, though the visible causes of death were unclear.
"......"
It had all been for the sake of results.
To sway the dwarves' hearts, he needed to gather as much information as possible.
That was why he had exploited the mercenaries' greed.
The claim of a new dungeon rich in magic stones was true, after all.
But the biggest reason Chase could resolve to use human mercenaries as tools...
Was simply that he valued human lives less than dwarven ones.
Of course, relations between dwarves and humans weren't bad.
The dwarves of Fireforge, who traded with the North Kingdom, were generally friendly toward humans by default.
If Chase hadn't gone through those events...
He might have viewed humans as favorably as any other dwarf.
There was a term in this world: confirmation bias.
Chase saw humans as more selfish, petty, and cunning than dwarves.
And that prejudice applied to these mercenaries too.
Gronak had said it.
Chase had been a renowned mage in his day—that much was true.
Before becoming an aide to Fireforge's mayor, he had been a spatial mage.
The reason Goldhand had ties to spatial mages.
The reason he could acquire escape scrolls faster than anyone.
It was all thanks to Chase.
He had never openly shown it.
But Chase hated humans.
That loathing began the moment a human mage he once considered a friend—jealous of Chase's talent—shattered his mana circuits, forcing him to abandon the path of magic.
Just a petty tale, nothing more.
The mercenaries' deaths were regrettable, but no more than that.
He had brought them here fully expecting they might die.
Chase averted his eyes from the corpses.
He picked up the journal from the shelf.
This was the journal he had written during the previous raid.
He opened to the first page.
Most of it concerned the elevator.
From the logs, the mercenaries had been quite cooperative with Chase from the entrance.
Past me must have been thrilled, thinking we'd finally gather a ton of intel this time.
"......"
Chase turned the page.
The content seemed to start right after reaching Zone 3.
P.04
Finally got the journal and pen back from the merchant.
Can't exactly call it a relief, though. It came at the cost of Captain Derid's life.
Four dead so far.
Derid got duped by the merchant. Path, Dorji, and Onnik died in the cave.
Never imagined that many goblins would pour out.
I nearly died in the cave too, if Aurora hadn't dragged me out in a panic.
A real close call.
Didn't expect it to be this bad.
Never dreamed it'd be riddled with such absurd anomalies.
The sight of goblins cascading like a waterfall is still vivid.
Was the elevator really just the beginning?
Honestly, after all that?
I figured the mercenaries would kill me.
And they had reason to.
To avoid pointless losses, I'd spouted lines that only someone who "knew about the elevator" would say.
Tried to pass it off as intuition, but.
Some mercenaries seemed to catch on that I'd been here before.
Which meant.
They could blame me all they wanted for hiding how dangerous this place was.
But.
The mercenaries didn't hold me accountable.
So I asked them straight up.
Why aren't you mad at me?
Something like that. What was it Aurora said again?
"Fighting and hating each other in a situation like this is the height of folly. Regardless, we're comrades tackling this dungeon together now... If you want to blame yourself, show it through actions, not words."
That was the gist.
The mercenaries were straightforward.
Even thanked me for being honest.
We're in a death-trap dungeon anyway, and we've come this far—might as well trust each other from here on out. They forgave me like that.
Weird bunch.
Living lives of constant battle must warp their thinking.
Couldn't they easily see me as the one who killed their comrades, not Dreamland?
Humans weren't supposed to be like this in my mind.
A twinge of guilt crept up my spine.
As atonement, I shaved my beard.
And gave it to Aurora as a gift for saving me.
"......"
Chase turned the page.
So that's what happened.
P.10
The mercenary band's captain is Derid.
Vice-captain is Aurora.
Derid died to the merchant.
So she naturally took over as captain.
She's the band's morale booster in every way.
Even in this hopeless mess, no one gives up on conquering the dungeon—she must have a gentle charisma too.
Things went sideways from the start.
But I was in a position to gather max intel too.
I suggested goblins distinguish intruders by scent.
The merchant killed Derid and left that stinky perfume as a "gift," so it didn't seem meaningless.
We sprayed the perfume.
But it wasn't enough, so we decided to use the trees growing rotten meat nearby...
"......"
The mercenaries investigated the cave much faster than now.
Rules formed quickly too.
Act like goblins.
Explore after labor in the evenings, etc.
Even with scarce food and water.
And past me thinking I shouldn't labor.
A minor fiasco where a big goblin beat me up happened too.
But the situation was definitely more optimistic than now.
Progress was four times faster.
And.
The biggest factor was surely the mood of the 6th raid party.
The mercenaries supported Chase.
And Chase opened up to and relied on those mercenaries.
Conquering with these guys would be great.
With this vibe, we might pull it off somehow?
We can do it. Definitely.
Such lines made it clear.
Psychological stability. Yeah.
Past Chase must have felt that positive emotion toward the mercenaries.
But one thing nagged at him.
"The rule-related sentences are cleverly erased."
Easy to skim now that I know so much.
But plenty was obscured beyond inference without prior info.
Someone tampered with the journal.
High chance other info was hidden too...
Even so, Chase quickly turned the page.
P.20
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
■ ■ like a ■■■ ■■■.
Fuck, what the hell is this bullshit fuck.
Can't calm down at all.
How am I supposed to go out and live like this?
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
Might as well die.
Dying would be way better.
Need to get out before fully ■■■.
Somehow, get out.
Throat dry, stomach empty.
Keep ■■ ■■ ■■■■ and my body's going haywire.
Screw intel and all that. Can't take it anymore.
Need to get out fast.
Need to, but no scroll.
Scroll...
Right, scroll.
Ah fuck, my scroll.
Merchant must have it.
Can others buy it too?
No... 100% they can.
Derid died and the merchant took my journal.
Means others can buy my scroll too, right?
Need to do something.
But how?
If I buy from merchant and end up like Derid?
Find a way...
Faster than anyone...
"So goblinization started around here..."
Past Chase looked way more desperate than now.
Makes sense.
He probably didn't know then that escaping the dungeon would reverse goblinization.
Goblin.
No one wants to live as something uglier and weirder than a goblin.
A bad premonition hit.
The rest is surely catastrophe.
Instinct warns me.
This world's truths are twofold.
Truths you're allowed to know.
And truths you mustn't.
Shouldn't read further.
It's touching the forbidden.
But.
Curiosity kills the cat, always.
Can't rest till it's sated.
That's why he stepped back into this dungeon too.
He turned the page after all.
P.22
Found a way.
The merchant can communicate.
As long as not hypnotized, it'll work somehow.
But.
Meaningless.
Merchant says no escape scrolls for sale.
Means someone already bought one from her.
What do, what do, what do, what do.
If I ■■■ here forever, I, I...
No.
Calm down.
Calm.
First, calm.
Numbers haven't dropped yet.
Means the one with the scroll is still here.
Probably thinking the same as me.
Use these guys as much as possible, then sell intel or conquer outside.
Definitely.
Then twist that against them.
Kill now.
It's fine. I'm stronger in combat.
Worst case, use magic.
■■■■ ■■■■■ ■■■.
■■ ■■■ so they're investigating one by one, separated.
Perfect timing.
"......"
Chase faced the blood-soaked page.
P.23
Killed Cecil.
No scroll.
Killed Celestine.
No scroll.
Killed Crack.
No scroll.
Killed Audrey.
No scroll.
Killed Asile.
No scroll.
Killed Arld.
No scroll.
P.24
The scroll was with Aurora.
I asked if she had an escape scroll.
She admitted honestly that she did.
Claimed she'd paid for it herself to avoid strife over it.
Saw the blood on me and asked what happened, worried.
Didn't know if it was mercenary blood.
Maybe never imagined I'd killed them.
Aurora said not to worry now.
Found the elevator to the next zone, she said hopefully.
Told me:
Are you the scroll's owner?
I'll return it, use it if no answer at the end.
Just find a way to get our stuff back from the merchant, she said.
I didn't answer.
Sensed something was off.
So I just turned her into a corpse.
Lacked the courage to keep talking.
Now alone in the dungeon.
Just use the scroll like this.
Should use it.
But useless thoughts keep stabbing my head.
Why didn't Aurora use it right away?
Waiting for a chance to take my journal?
Yeah. Need the intel to sell outside, and only I have the journal...
But even so...
Too many openings since sleep...
If escape was goal, just leave...
Dunno.
Dunno.
Dunno.
Dunno.
Of all timings.
Right now.
Why, why, why, why...
Head spinning.
No next page.
Seemed torn out.
To the dazed Chase.
A slime slithered up unnoticed.
It handed him the pages from the journal he'd burned.
And a page he hadn't found.
P.30
Without a doubt, stepping into Dreamland was the dumbest thing I've ever done.
■■■ or ■■... mere fragments.
The worst was separate.
Thought I could conquer this dungeon.
Go back with intel, then raid properly.
Realize now how idiotic that was.
Wanna go back.
Wanna go back.
Wanna go back.
Not outside.
Before starting the 6th raid.
Dunno.
Even outside, can things go back to normal?
No confidence facing my sins.
At least losing memories is a mercy.
Better to live a coward than die brave.
That's certain.
If.
Just if.
A chance to forget everything here and live anew.
I'd never waste it.
God, please, just one chance to fix it all...
P.31
Nevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernevernever...
Chase examined the corpses.
Finally understood the cause of death.
Definitely me who killed them.
Confirming Aurora's rotting body.
He spotted his own beard too.
The journal wasn't falsified.
This was my story.
My original sin.
The taboo the God of Oblivion forbade me to open.
The slime beside spat one last note.
It wasn't a journal page.
Someone's message to him.
The slime slithered away.
"......"
Chase confronted the taboo.
How long did he stand there dazed?
Legs aching brought clarity.
Chase moved.
Can't fix everything.
But final tasks remained.
Chase headed to the forest first.
The merchant appeared swiftly, as if expecting him.
"I'll buy one escape scroll."
The merchant smiled.
Her hand pierced Chase's abdomen.
But no pain.
No wound or tear.
Like a ghost, an illusion—her hand rummaged his gut, taking only payment cleanly.
The merchant handed Chase an escape scroll.
And.
【Selling escape scrolls. Need one, right?】
Glancing at sleeping Gronak as she asked.
Chase didn't respond.
The merchant nodded, smile intact.
She waved.
Her parting gesture, in her way.
Merchant gone.
Chase looked at the journal from this raid.
【7th Raid Results】
【Author: Chase】
Whoosh.
Flickering flames danced.
All records vanished.
Like oblivion itself.
He tore pages from the 6th raid journal.
And wielded the pen.
What Chase wrote was a will.
In summary:
Promise to divide Chase, Fireforge mayor's aide's, assets equally among families of mercenaries in Dreamland's 6th raid, including Derid and Aurora.
Apologies to those who died in Dreamland, Mayor Goldhand, and all dwarves.
Thanks to friend Gronak who followed to the dungeon.
And a request: it'd be a hassle, but convey and fulfill the will's contents.
「Don't ever come here」
And.
The message received from someone.
'This should do.'
Chase stopped writing.
Placed it in Gronak's arms and woke him.
"Gronak. Gronak."
"■■■■......"
"Good news. Wake up."
"■■ ■■ ■■■. ■■ ■■■."
"Found a way to get our belongings back from the merchant."
"■■■...? ■■■ ■■ ■■ ■■■■."
Gronak no longer spoke human words.
But.
Not hostile toward me.
Didn't feel fully goblin yet.
Chase gave a bitter smile.
"Everything's in the journal. Read it outside. I'll stay a bit longer to gather more dungeon info."
"......"
"Gotta get value out of this scroll's price. Don't worry, wait quietly in Fireforge."
Gronak used the escape scroll.
Hoped his friend never set foot here willingly.
Chase was alone in the cave again.
Chase thought.
Would a dwarf like me enter Dreamland again?
Strong curiosity.
Strong inquisitiveness.
Lots of greed too—might drag others here again.
Then.
Staying here forever might be fine.
If this is my end.
An unchanging end.
No need to drag the tale further.
Chase resolved to live like a goblin from then on.
Led a diligent goblin life: work mornings after waking at night.
"Hey. Think today's quota'll be pretty ■■■■?"
The more time passed.
The clearer goblin speech became.
Vision dimmed.
Scent sharpened.
Still, never touched rotten meat.
Original rations from outside tasted like vomit-inducing rot.
Even so, slowly.
Just slowly.
Assimilating to this place.
Vision fully closed.
Now navigated by scent and sound alone.
Memories of self fading.
Past, knowledge, all blackened.
At some point, name slipped away.
What was my name?
Dunno.
That important?
Not needed for eating, sleeping.
Fine to forget then.
I'm a working goblin in the cave.
Goblins don't need memories.
Fine to forget.
"Hey. Eating that gross stuff again today?"
A goblin said.
"Yeah."
"Only intruders eat that."
"Guess so."
"Why eat it though? Confuses other goblins' noses."
"Dunno. Can't forget this taste without meat."
"Weirdo."
Another day passed.
"■■■■■."
Suddenly, someone greeted me.
Not our language.
Yet the meaning was clear, wondrous voice.
Not an intruder.
How could it be?
Such a warm, serene being.
Couldn't be loathsome foe.
Surely lovable and beautiful.
"Greetings."
I bowed in reply.
"■■■ ■■■■■?"
Want rest?
A new chance?
If that's the offer.
Well.
Goblin life is busy, harsh.
Boring, joyless.
Still.
No urge to stop.
This is my final duty.
Must do this.
■■■ thought so at least.
He respected me.
Grateful.
"Farewell."
"■■■."
He vanished.
Then, astonishingly, time stopped.
Only our god could do such.
Meeting him was surely an honor.
Till time flows again.
I sink into eternal yet finite dream.
They say a clothed goblin occasionally appears in the goblin cave.
He works harder than any.
Sleeps right after work.
Rushes to labor at dawn before all.
Never touches rotten meat.
Instead, picks at intruder trash.
Goblins dubbed the grimacing trash-eater "Outlier."
The wave ended just like that.
I uploaded the final live feed and closed the gallery.
Normally I'd banter in comments.
But mood was bittersweet.
He was foe, an intruder to crush.
Yet no catharsis.
Am I just a softie Dungeon Master?
Dunno.
All I could do for the dwarf was warn against more mistakes.
And a farewell for the one who chose his end.
"Farewell."
Clutching someone's escape scroll.
I left the silent Zone 3, forest and cave gone.