“Ahhh — paradise.”
Soaking away the day’s fieldwork fatigue, I gazed up at the two moons and sighed.
Baths. Baths are simply good.
The food’s delicious, I’m surrounded by beauties… it’s possible I’m living BETTER here than I ever did in Japan.
Perspective check, though: this world runs a functioning slavery system, and while I end every encounter with a “ka-boom,” one step past my property line is a literal monster nest.
For a normal person, everyday life here is apparently hard mode with permadeath.
The only reason none of it touches me is the pile of mystery skills — and for that isekai-transfer welcome package, I owe genuine gratitude.
And then—
“Bath time~♪ Bath time~♪”
Sonya got in.
“A bath truly is a wonderful thing.”
Maria got in.
“Master… I too would request a period of rest and recuperation in the bath…”
Ouroboros got in.
“Came by to buy materials, but first — I’m grabbin’ myself a soak.”
Arisa got in.
“I came to survey the site ahead of the vegetable trade, however… I am told this ‘bath’ is an exceptionally fine thing.”
The ELF QUEEN got in.
For the record: this is the improvised goemon-style tub. It is extremely small.
It’s deep, so the standard posture is standing — but at full occupancy it becomes rush-hour-train levels of compression.
And when bodies are pressed together that tightly… well. Various things happen.
The core issue being that the entire female roster is, without exception, the predatory type…
“AAAAAAHHH!”
And so my scream dissolved into the darkness of the night.
Next day.
“The bath BROKE?”
“Yes, Master… Sonya got carried away, you see.”
Ouroboros shrugged, thoroughly over it.
Pretty sure EVERYONE got carried away, as I recall… but let’s set that aside.
“Headcount keeps growing anyway — it’s time we built a proper house. And a real bath while we’re at it, not the improvised one.”
“Hmm…”
Ouroboros was mid-frown when—
“I heard EVERYTHING. An’ Tatsuya-bro, yer talkin’ crazy again.”
Arisa, through the door, per tradition.
“Crazy how?”
“Buildin’ proper means bringin’ craftsmen from a human settlement. Plus a crew o’ laborers to assist ‘em, several at least.”
“Sure, naturally.”
“Yer dispatchin’ a whole crew from town, yeah? The bill’ll be MONSTROUS. This place’s a certified high-difficulty dungeon, remember. So it gets processed as a dungeon deployment — with high-rank adventurer escort attached.”
Right — she’s given this speech before.
“Construction work where yer life’s on the line, inside a dungeon. They’ll charge what SOUNDS like a rip-off as the honest goin’ rate. Plus yer pinnin’ down high-rank adventurers for WEEKS. Fifteen to thirty people, several weeks… all doin’ life-or-death work.”
“How much are we talking?”
“Excludin’ materials? Four thousand gold, thereabouts. High-rankers earn premium wages, an’ long-term dungeon postings… yeah, that’s the arithmetic.”
The offering box is already vacuuming my funds at a criminal rate. Honestly, that stings.
“That IS a problem.”
And there, the elf queen clapped her hands together.
“Then shall I dispatch ten or so of our young folk, plus craftsmen? For wages, simply pay whatever you judge fair.”
“That’s a mighty generous offer, but… fundamental problem: elf buildin’ technique is tree-based, yeah? That work for ya, Tatsuya-bro?”
Well — I saw the elf dwellings on our visit. Hollowed-out living trees, deeply fantasy aesthetic.
Great trees renovated into what amount to tree-apartment-buildings. That school of design.
Honestly? Deeply un-relaxing.
For one night it’s a novelty — as an amusement-hotel, absolutely welcome. But LIVING in one…
“Hmm. Then shall I put in a word with the DWARVES?”
At that, I let out a wry laugh.
Truly, this world hands you an unbroken conga line of fantasy acquaintances… one after another after another.