I have made multiple corrections to the content on the date of posting for the previous chapter.
Some of you may feel that the flow of the story is unnatural.
I apologize if that is the case.
Jiro Tanaka, 28 years old, has a girlfriend.
Girlfriend: Suella Hendellberg
Memoria Tris
Occupation: Dungeon Tester (Full-time employee)
Magic Aptitude: 8 (General Class)
Position: Warrior
Somehow, we managed to break through the first hurdle.
From here on, it depends on how the hero students react when we meet face-to-face, but having a monitored conversation might lead to it being stopped midway.
While anticipating that, I need to make sure they listen to what I have to say thoroughly… I must break their spirit so they never think of becoming heroes again.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.”
Oops, I almost let a malicious smile slip out.
I deflect the bishop’s words with a smile while reconfirming and checking for any changes to the plan I’m about to execute.
I’m being led out of the waiting room and I have no idea where I’m going. While mentally mapping out the path, which is more straightforward than the bars run by the Dark Guild, I confirm the escape routes along the way.
“Is that so? By the way, Tanaka-dono, you seem quite young, how old are you?”
“Yes, I will be twenty-nine this year.”
“To be entrusted with such a great mission at your age, you must be quite capable.”
“I receive more praise than I deserve, despite my youth.”
However, this old fox.
He’s changed his tune so much, I feel like asking who he thought he was. His gentle tone and mild expression made me wonder if his high-pressure attitude from before was just a mask. I noticed his demeanor gradually change the moment he predicted that a powerful nation was backing me. The troublesome part is how he handled the shifts. Even though I noticed and understood it, I couldn’t feel any dissonance. It was to the level that if I hadn’t been consciously vigilant, I would have been fooled into thinking it was normal. There was no awkwardness in the transition from the tense atmosphere before to the current calm one. It was as if he was saying that his previous tone was unavoidable and he didn’t really want to act that way. So, he’s sticking to a safe approach: not lying, but not telling the whole truth either. It would be a bonus if the other party misunderstood on their own…
“I see. Your superior must be very proud to have a subordinate like you.”
“I would be happy if that were the case.”
That seems unlikely. This politician’s talk of becoming friends seems to be endless. To be honest, my facial muscles are getting tired. Smiling uses quite a bit of cheek muscle, I never knew because I’ve never smiled so much before. Though I didn’t want to know. Now, feeling my facial muscles stiffen, I check my current location. Judging by the direction, we are definitely heading towards the center of this land. We’ve only advanced a few dozen meters, maybe not even a hundred, but the exact distance is unknown. Soldiers are stationed at key points, as expected. While responding to the bishop with minimal conversation, judging by what I can see in front of me, I’m likely not mistaken. Are they leading me deeper to prevent my escape, or is the meeting with the heroes only possible further in? In the worst-case scenario, I’ll be surrounded by knights when we arrive, but I hope that possibility is low. Honestly, I’d say it’s a fifty-fifty chance whether they’ll let me meet the heroes straightforwardly. My current position is built on layers of lies and a façade of bluffing, making them believe I’m an ambassador from a foreign country. Thanks to that, they should be handling me with delicate care. So, there’s a 50% chance I might meet someone more important than the bishop, not the heroes. I pray that doesn’t happen. Despite my true identity, I’m just a salaryman. I wonder what their reaction would be if they found out. At the very least, I’m deceiving an important person, so I probably won’t die a peaceful death. I have no intention of dying easily and am fully prepared to resist with all my might.
“We’ve come quite far in, but are they here?”
“No, they are staying at the temple executive lodging further inside, so it will take time to move and get ready. There’s no need to rush; you can meet them in the conference room ahead.”
“Is that so?”
I further solidify my smile, making sure not to reveal any of my thoughts. I wonder if this old fox has noticed. For now, what I can say is that the craving for a cigarette is intense. It’s difficult to resist this urge on my third day of quitting, similar to withdrawal symptoms. I’m enduring it because I’m about to deal with minors, but can’t something be done? Should I try asking if I can smoke one, just in case?
“This way, please. Stunning furnishings, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are magnificent.”
But I missed the timing, so the cigarette will have to wait a little longer. And contrary to the words coming from my smiling mask, my mind was a storm of internal retorts. I want to say that churches are supposed to be based on simplicity and frugality. The furnishings are adorned with abundant gold, silver, and jewels, the paintings are gaudy and ostentatious, the carpet is so deep it feels like it’s trying to bury my feet, possibly for the purpose of making the footing difficult. In a word, their taste is bad. Or perhaps it’s just not to my taste, but if I were told to relax here, I’d confidently say it’s impossible. My mouth isn’t twitching, is it? I’m not stuttering, am I? The bishop’s explanations about the history of the furnishings have been going in one ear and out the other. My responses have been limited to “yes,” “indeed,” and “that’s right.” I wanted to say I couldn’t care less, but like listening to a customer’s rambling, it’s part of the job for a salesperson. Sadly, I have to endure this conversation until I can present my prize: the heroes. But the gazes are starting to bother me. It’s not just one or two people. I feel eyes on me from at least four different angles. I noticed being observed from afar even on the way to this room. It’s interesting that I can now sense gazes like in a manga, but being sized up isn’t amusing. I suspect some of these gazes belong to individuals of equal or higher standing than the bishop in front of me. In that case… the subsequent conversation will naturally be overheard as well. So, with the heroes prepared in such an environment… what kind of people will come?
“Hmm, it seems they’ve arrived.”
“It appears so.”
The bishop interrupts his explanation of the furnishings and focuses his gaze on the door that was just knocked on. I follow his gaze and can sense considerable magic power. I estimate his Magic Aptitude to be at least six.
“Enter.”
“Y-yes, excuse me.”
As the bishop prompts me, a boy with an ordinary appearance, the kind you might find in any class, enters, still exhibiting a raw flow of magic. Seeing that pattern, I adjust my subsequent actions slightly.
“Um, I was called here.”
“Yes, I apologize for calling you so early, but you have a guest.”
“A guest? Who… wait, a suit!?”
“I am Jiro Tanaka. To put it simply, you could say I’m Japanese.”
I didn’t expect to meet everyone all at once, but this boy is a fitting choice. His blinking and surprised expression matches my first impression of him as a naive boy. It’s no exaggeration to say that such children are perfect test subjects. Whether they have good or bad influence on the class doesn’t matter. He’s a person who wouldn’t cause problems even if influenced by me. I offer a silent apology in my heart. Finishing the unheard apology, I greet him with an unwavering smile.
“Uh, um, I’m Taichi Suzuki! Um, is Mr. Tanaka also a hero?”
“At your age, claiming to be a hero takes a lot of courage. In that sense, I might be able to call myself a hero, but unfortunately, I’m not in that position. I’m something simpler. Yes, I’m a person whose role is to welcome you.”
“Is that so? But isn’t it difficult to travel back and forth between Japan and Isal so easily?”
His response is straightforward, as expected. It’s a classic reaction that could be seen as untainted, making me realize how old I’ve become.
“That’s right. It will take time to explain in detail. Well, please have a seat.”
Implicitly telling him I’ll answer his question, I gesture for him to sit. He does as he’s told and sits next to the bishop. I glance at the bishop and see he’s unresponsive. Is he observing? I see.
“Now, regarding your previous question, before I answer, I want you to ask me a few questions about Japan.”
“? Why?”
“To the people of this country, I’m a suspicious presence whether I’m Japanese or not. First, I need to prove that.”
He nods, saying that’s where we should start, and fires several questions at me. They are all about history, geography, and idol information from the news – things any Japanese person could easily answer.
“Now, Bishop, so far, he’s answered them all correctly. What do you think?”
“…Hero Taichi, can you say this person is from the same homeland?”
“I can’t say for certain… but I definitely think he’s Japanese.”
“Is that so? Then, I will trust your word and believe in you.”
“Thank you.”
It seems I’ve managed to escape the gray zone. Still, I’m in a position where I could easily fall back into it. After expressing my thanks, I brace myself for the now-arranged situation. Thinking about what’s to come, I feel a pang of guilt betraying the boy who believed in me, but I have no choice but to harden my heart.
“Then, I will answer your first question. It’s certainly not easy, but there is a way to travel back and forth.”
This is the first time I can say I’ve revealed my hand. The method of traveling between Isal and Japan is, in itself, a crucial secret, vital for negotiations. It wasn’t a painful revelation, but it was enough to pique their interest. And…
“Is that so?”
The Suzuki boy, who would normally be surprised and delighted, reacted with surprising indifference.
“Yes, using that method, I came to pick you up. It’s been quite some time since you went missing. Your parents are worried.”
“…Yes.”
Next, I appeal to his emotions, and he replies with a look of apology and hesitation. This indicates something is on his mind.
“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be more excited.”
“Um, it’s difficult to say, but…”
“It’s okay, tell me.”
“We can’t go back yet. There’s something we need to do here.”
“…Is this something you need to do right now?”
And I had a bad feeling about this from the moment he sat next to the bishop. No, perhaps it’s not a feeling, but a bad prediction. My earlier assessment of him as naive was correct. Through conversation, observing his attitude, and sensing the atmosphere, I became convinced that he is an honest, serious, and ordinary boy. But for me, that assessment was negative. Being ordinary makes one susceptible to infatuation. Being ordinary makes one crave being called special. For him, being a hero is like a drug. Otherwise, he wouldn’t place things that shouldn’t be weighed on a scale onto that platform. Looking at him, I’m sure of it. This country has no intention of letting the heroes go. I suspected it from the beginning, but now I’m certain. If that’s the case, the course of action I need to take is naturally decided.
“Yes! This is our mission!”
He says that with such confidence. Is it strong responsibility, a strong sense of justice, or both? Either way, it’s not bad, but it’s troublesome. It’s the kind of eager look you often see in new employees.
“So, we’ll return after that’s done. Ah, don’t worry! They promised to prepare a way back for us once our role is complete!!”
Well, well, I wonder if this boy, speaking so earnestly, realizes what he’s saying.
“Even if it means disregarding your parents’ worries?”
“Uh, I hate to ask this, but could you please inform our parents about us? That way, they probably won’t worry.”
He doesn’t understand, does he? Otherwise, he wouldn’t ask me such a thing. Amelia was given the file precisely to prevent this kind of situation, but it seems to have been useless for this boy.
“Is this the consensus of everyone, or is it your personal will?”
“I think everyone feels the same way!”
Hmm, young. An energetic and confident reply. He smiles as if he’s said his piece. Well then, I shall act like an adult.
“I understand. Very well.”
“Yes, so please explain this to our parents.”
“I refuse.”
“Eh?”
“I said, I refuse.”
Suzuki boy probably thought it would end there, but unfortunately, the adult world isn’t that kind. Ah, I knew Ka-tsu, so I expected a more reasonable judgment, but not everyone can possess such mature thinking. It’s disappointing, especially since I had my own expectations. My listening role is over. From here on, I’ll be the one driving the conversation.
“Do you really think you can return to your normal life after completing your role as a hero?”
“Y-yes, I can.”
“On what grounds?”
A cold emotion slowly surfaces within me. Like a snake glaring at a frog, I glare at Suzuki boy with a smile. Did he notice the sudden shift in atmosphere? He summons his former confidence and replies.
“The Saintess promised to be responsible for sending us back!!”
So, it’s okay because someone with status in this country said so. The basis for his confidence is that person’s word – a typical “it’s okay because they said so” situation.
“That’s a guarantee that you’ll be sent back to Japan, isn’t it? It doesn’t guarantee your life *after* returning to Japan, does it?”
“Eh?”
“You need to face reality a bit more. Didn’t I say earlier? That it’s been ‘quite some time’ since you went missing. Specifically, the same number of days have passed as you’ve spent here. In other words, summer vacation is already over.”
Time is cruel, and Japan, in one aspect, holds cruel realities.
“I don’t know how long it will take for you to complete your role as heroes, but it certainly won’t be one or two years. If it’s long, it could be decades. War is like that. You know this, don’t you? The Hundred Years’ War, or World War II. Wars between nations aren’t simple affairs that end with ‘sorry, we were wrong.’ That’s why they drag on. As a result, your role will also be extended.”
“But that’s not our concern, is it?”
“Not your concern? You think your role ends after defeating the remnants of the Demon Lord? That it won’t take that long?”
“Y-yes!!”
“Then, I ask you, how long do you think it will take to defeat those remnants of the Demon Lord? Based on the information we can gather, that is a trump card of a main offensive force. Do you think the enemy will let you reach it easily? Will they let you defeat it easily? I would take multiple measures to prevent such a thing. Fortunately, this country proudly advertises that they have heroes, so they can be on guard.”
By various means, time will cruelly pass. If it were a month, one might give up, considering it like catching the flu. If it were two months, one might find the motivation to recover, considering it a minor injury. But what if it’s a year, two years? School will be dropped out. While there might be special arrangements for being missing, it would likely be in a dedicated facility. The normal life they envision is unlikely to return. At the earliest, before they reach adulthood, or late into their twenties, or even their thirties, when they return to Japan, only a cruel future will await. “Hero” is not a job title that can be listed on a resume, and even if explained, people would likely think they are mentally ill. Employment would be almost impossible.
“…”
By the time I’ve explained all that, the boy can no longer say anything. Or rather, he’s trying to say something, but his words are jumbled. All he can do is glare at the enemy who is trying to ruin his dream. Seeing this action, which doesn’t hurt or prickle at all, I realize he’s still a child. I switch my focus to a more procedural mindset. While preparing my next words, I expect him to stop me, but the bishop doesn’t intervene. Despite Suzuki boy looking at him for help, he remains silent. I can’t fathom what he’s thinking. I sense something lurking in the silence, but I can’t measure it. My wariness is slowly increasing, but I have no choice but to postpone what I can’t deal with. For now, I’ll focus on the opening act in front of me.
“And, it’s been bothering me, do you really think you can swing a weapon, kill living beings, and then return to your normal life?”
Feeling an unpleasant atmosphere, I decide to crush the boy’s dream, adult or not. If you’ve experienced being a hero, whose job is to kill, can you really return to Japanese society where such experiences are rare? If asked, ordinary people would say no, and those who have experienced being heroes would say yes, that they could do it themselves. This boy seems to believe he is the latter, but as someone who has fought in dungeons, I can say that returning to normal is impossible without having all memories erased. If it were just killing animals like bears or rabbits, it might be manageable and recovery into society possible. But this is war. You will be killing humans. Once that happens, you can’t go back to your everyday life. Once you kill, this boy, no, these young heroes, will incorporate killing into their actions of judging evil. It sends a chill down my spine. It means that among the seemingly innocent boys and girls in Japanese society, there will be individuals carrying a bomb at all times.
“But, um, I…”
Has his thought process stopped? He seems unable to process what to say, his thoughts unable to catch up with the points I’ve made. This is the kind of confusion easily fallen into by those who haven’t thought that deeply. Did he think a more beautiful story awaited him? That it would end with a happy ending after much hardship and struggle? Shattered dreams, denied aspirations, and forced to see reality, Suzuki boy seems to have no idea what to do or say. While being a hero might bring honor and glory, on the flip side, one must abandon their everyday life and common sense in Japan. Suzuki boy didn’t understand that. If he had understood that, a different development would have awaited him. I almost imagined a hypothetical scenario where he understood and accepted the risks, but the conversation ends there. I cut off my thoughts and shift my target to the bishop.
“Well, Suzuki-kun seems quite distressed, so further conversation seems impossible. Therefore…”
Slowly adjusting my posture, I face the bishop.
“Let’s postpone the negotiations. I have my own schedule to follow, so I will take my leave for today.”
“What did you say!?”
As I stand up and speak with a smile, the bishop, who was waiting for my words, stands up abruptly, surprised. Seeing that, for the first time, I felt I had gotten one over on this old fox.
Jiro Tanaka, 28 years old, has a girlfriend.
Girlfriend: Suella Hendellberg
Memoria Tris
Occupation: Dungeon Tester (Full-time employee)
Magic Aptitude: 8 (General Class)
Position: Warrior
Today’s Word:
In a way, “tsundere” feels like the foundation of negotiation. Depending on the ratio, of course.
This concludes today’s entry.
I apologize for the descriptions of the heroes being beaten up, but they will be in action soon, so please bear with me.
Please continue to support this work.
