Chapter 4 First Combat
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Exiting my room, I headed toward a nearby area that looked like the gaping mouth of a cavern entrance.
I cast a glance toward the center of the plaza—a spot that functioned more as a spring than a pond—and saw a crowd of students swarming around the adults. PE teachers and club coaches were the focus of the assembly, seemingly beginning some kind of emergency deliberation. The faculty appeared desperate to organize the youths.
There will be chaos at first, that’s for sure, but they have the martial arts manuals. More importantly, they’re at that age where the libido is at its absolute peak. I’m certain they’ll fight like demons. When I was fifteen, I fought with everything I had just because I wanted a woman as a reward. I nearly died for it, though.
Well then, I’d best start earning my keep before these students snatch up all the choice women.
* * *
Stepping into the cave felt like a flashback to the limestone caverns I’d visited on elementary school field trips. The ceiling reached high, with icicle-like rock formations hanging down and emitting a soft, ethereal glow. While significantly dimmer than the plaza, there was more than enough light to maintain visibility.
The ground beneath me was craggy and uneven, making for treacherous footing, but the path itself was expansive—wide enough for five adults to walk abreast. Along the left and right walls, I could identify several openings that resembled side-tunnels.
Since it appeared to be a straight shot for now, I advanced with my Machete¹ gripped in one hand.
I wonder what the first monster I’ll encounter in this dungeon will be. If it follows the standard tropes, it’ll be a slime or something of that nature…
I was occupied with such thoughts when I had progressed roughly fifty meters from the entrance. Suddenly, a dark blur lunged from a side-hole. I evaded it with a sharp, instinctive backstep.
The black shadow sailed past my previous position, landed, and slowly pivoted to face me.
”A rabbit?” I asked.
The shadow resolved into the form of a plump, brown rabbit. I phrased it as a question because it was unusually large for a hare, and a magnificent horn—at least thirty centimeters in diameter—protruded from its forehead.
A horned rabbit, huh? In fantasy manga, they usually go by names like One-Horned Rabbit or Horn Rabbit². I doubt it could pierce this reinforced guard uniform, but getting gored with that much momentum would likely be excruciating.
While I was busy observing it, the Horn Rabbit tensed its haunches and lunged once more.
”Hup!” I grunted.
As long as I know it’s coming, a small animal charging in a straight line is hardly a threat. I stepped aside to dodge, and as we crossed paths, I brought the Machete down hard on its neck.
The result was decisive; the Horn Rabbit’s head was severed effortlessly. Its body tumbled to the ground, geysering blood, before dissolving into black particles and vanishing entirely.
No corpse and no bloodstains left behind, huh? It really is just like a game.
”Hm? Is this black stone thing a Magic Stone³?” I muttered.
In the spot where the Horn Rabbit had dissipated, I found a black, misshapen stone roughly the size of a fingertip, distinct from the surrounding pebbles. I picked it up.
”Hmm… I wonder how much this will fetch me.”
The Horn Rabbit had respectable speed, but its leaps only reached about waist-high. With this reinforced uniform on, I shouldn’t sustain any major injuries. A direct hit might crack a bone if I’m unlucky, but I don’t think it’s life-threatening.
Factoring all that in, perhaps it’s worth about 30 DP⁴? If it were 50 DP, a single kill would cover the cost of breakfast; I doubt the system is that generous. At 30 DP, two kills equals one meal. For an entry-level foe, that sounds about right.
If I can bag ten in an hour, that’s 300 DP. An hourly wage of 3,000 yen, basically. This pays better than my actual guard duties.
The variable is whether I can encounter ten an hour, but since there are no other testers besides me yet, it should be feasible.
* * *
”Hmph!” I exhaled.
I sidestepped a Horn Rabbit as it burst from a crevice too small for a human to enter, lopping off its head with the Machete mid-air. In that same instant, I felt a presence approaching from my rear diagonal. I pivoted back a step and swung the Machete again, catching the second Horn Rabbit’s neck as it flew past.
”One-trick ponies,” I muttered.
I stood over the two Horn Rabbits as they dissolved into black mist at my feet. It had been roughly two hours since I first entered the cave. As I moved deeper, they had started attacking in pairs with a slight stagger, always lunging from my blind spots. They invariably struck with murderous intent the moment I passed a side-tunnel or while I was occupied with the first one.
However, my presence detection—honed through years in the wilderness—wasn’t about to miss something so blatant. I’ve been dispatching them with ease every time. Well, they’re just rabbits with horns; this is to be expected.
”Still, I went to the trouble of acquiring this round shield, but I haven’t had a single chance to use it,” I remarked, glancing at the wooden buckler strapped to my left arm. It was about forty centimeters in diameter, secured by leather bands.
I had recovered this shield from a wooden treasure chest tucked inside a hole where a defeated Horn Rabbit had emerged. I’d found two such chests in similar spots—one an hour ago and another thirty minutes ago. One contained twenty copper coins of various sizes with unfamiliar engravings. The other held this shield.
The chest hadn’t been locked, but I opened it from the side with my Machete just in case of traps. There weren’t any, as it turned out.
I felt a surge of excitement when I first got the shield—it made me feel like an adventurer straight out of a manga—but in actual combat, I’ve been killing the rabbits before I even need it. I probably won’t have a reason to use it unless three or more show up simultaneously.
”Well, whatever. The encounter rate is high, and the earnings look promising.”
I’ve dispatched about forty in these two hours. The encounter rate is definitely high since no one else is clearing the path ahead of me. However, despite the body count, I still can’t trigger Physical Reinforcement⁵. It must mean my mana reserves are still insufficient, but I wonder exactly how many I need to cull before it activates.
”I’ll take a breather,” I decided.
Checking my watch, it was nearly 1:00 PM. I chose a section of the rock wall without any side-holes in front of me, sat down, and opened my lunch. I’m feeling a bit of fatigue; after all, this is my first real combat in four years.
My physical stamina is fine thanks to the gym, but the mental tax of walking while constantly maintaining a detection radius is starting to show. I finished the fried chicken bento while mulling that over. After draining a bottle of tea and resting for a few more minutes, I stood up and continued deeper into the cavern.
* * *
”A dead end, is it?” I noted.
After advancing for another two hours following my lunch break, I hit a massive, impassable wall. So it really isn’t just a simple, linear cave.
There were several reasonably wide side-tunnels along the way, even if they weren’t as large as this main artery. The way forward is likely through one of those branches, or perhaps a sub-branch further in. When I think about it that way, this cave—no, this dungeon—is quite vast.
It’s been two hours since lunch. I’ve been active for a total of four hours now. Between the constant alertness and the skirmishes, my pace has been slow, but I must have covered at least five kilometers.
To think I saw this wall and hoped it was the goal, only to find a literal dead end.
”I’ll call it a day and head back. But in the end, Physical Reinforcement never did activate,” I said to myself.
I’ve killed a hundred of those things by now. In a game, I’d have gained at least three levels. Is it possible there is no leveling system here? That would be a significant setback.
Hmm, I’ll have to observe the situation a bit longer.
Regardless, I’ve harvested a good amount of Magic Stones and found two additional treasure chests. One contained a pair of throwing knives. The other held a small vial filled with a pale green liquid. I recognized it immediately as a Potion⁶. I’d made a note of it when I was browsing the DP shop earlier.
If I remember correctly, even a low-tier Grade 5 Potion costs 2,000 DP. Its effects were limited to stopping bleeding or healing minor lacerations and bruises. Honestly, it seemed like a poor value, but the ability to stop bleeding instantly is a different matter entirely. Even if it doesn’t close a deep wound, your survival rate sky-rockets if you can stop the blood loss. I’ll hold onto this rather than selling it. Eventually, someone will get injured and I’ll see the exact effects. I just hope that ‘someone’ isn’t me.
I’ll just liquidate the Magic Stones and the copper coins. If the stones are 30 DP each as I suspect, then 100 of them is 3,000 DP—effectively over 30,000 yen. Confirmed profit.
Horn Rabbits will likely spawn on the return trip, too. I don’t know the exact respawn timer, but even if the encounter rate is halved, that’s another 1,500 DP. That brings the total to 4,500 DP, or 45,000 yen for the day. A daily wage of 4,500 DP just from farming trash mobs isn’t bad at all. It means I can earn even more once I find the stairs to the lower floors.
I need to locate that descent soon. For today, I’ll settle for this ‘rehab’ session. I leaned against the dead-end wall to rest my aching body, hydrated with a sports drink, and took a ten-minute break. Then, Machete in hand, I began retracing my steps.
* * *
”Oh? It looks like some other people entered the dungeon after me,” I remarked.
As I made my way back—fighting fewer monsters than on the way in, as predicted—I spotted a group of about ten individuals walking toward me. Judging by the color of their school ties, they were second and third-years. Did they form a party with their club mates?
Their armament consisted of six swords and four spears. A conservative, safe choice. As I walked while scrutinizing the approaching students, the one in the lead—who seemed to be on point-duty—noticed me. He hurriedly began whispering to his peers behind him.
”H-hey. Isn’t that the old guard guy?” the student asked.
”Ugh, it’s that violent psycho,” another replied.
”Scary… Walking around with a hatchet with a face like that, he’s a total loose cannon,” a third student muttered.
”Shh! Idiot, don’t make eye contact. He’s dangerous, just don’t get involved,” a voice whispered.
I can hear everything you’re saying, you know.
As I continued to close the distance, the students scrambled to clear the path, pressing themselves against the wall. Only one third-year student with sharp, hawk-like eyes maintained an alert stance toward me; the others were quick to avert their gaze.
Ah, I recognize a few of them. They’re from the Battle Sports Club⁷—the guys who stay late in the gym. I recall hearing about that sport; it’s a medieval-style combat thing involving Western swords and spears that’s huge in Europe and gaining traction in Japan. Apparently, this school’s club won the national tournament in the summer and was headed to England for the world championships. There was even talk of them being promoted to an official school club.
I walked past them as they watched me with a mix of caution and dread, those details surfacing in my mind.
Still, ‘violent psycho’ is a bit uncalled for. I don’t recall doing anything to these kids. Are they referring to the time I caught them bullying someone on patrol and used my fists to make them stop? I was careful to avoid their faces and I made sure to film the evidence. I told them if they complained, I’d leak the video with their names attached. Internet lynchings are no joke, so they stayed quiet. I’ve had to intervene in similar ‘hazing’ incidents during combat-club practices, too.
The reason I didn’t report the bullying to the school was because of a situation back when I’d first started. I’d reported an incident with video proof, and the bully got suspended. But the homeroom teacher held a grudge against me for it. Having a bully and a victim in his class meant he got dragged to the victim’s house to be lectured by the parents, and he blamed me for the headache. It was absurd—he was the one failing to supervise his students properly.
Since then, he’d glare at me every time we crossed paths. It was such a nuisance that I decided to just stick to personal ‘sanctions’ and threats. It’s far less paperwork to punch them, tell them to stay away from the victim, and threaten to ruin their lives online if they retaliate. That must have leaked and turned into a rumor where only the ‘punching’ part survived. Since I was hired through the Chairman’s connections, they probably assume I used that pull to hush things up. Well, whatever.
Anyway, back to the matter at hand.
Regardless, it’s impressive that high schoolers raised in such a peaceful country could be thrust into this insanity, told to fight, and actually decide to pick up weapons and head in on the same day. Even if they’re used to swords in their club, the weight of real steel is a different beast entirely compared to competition gear.
Perhaps they’re treating it like a game. It certainly feels like one when the enemies dissolve into particles. Plus, there’s the presence of magic.
”Is this a bit of a problem?” I wondered.
Since I’m solo, I get the full take of Magic Stones. My income should be the highest for now, but once the students acclimate to combat, their numbers will eventually become an overwhelming advantage. It’s not impossible that some of the stronger ones will branch off and go solo, too. I hear the kendo and combat clubs here are quite formidable.
If I get too complacent, the choice women might be claimed before I can act, and I might face blowback from the brats I’ve punched in the past. If there really is a level-up system, I need to pick up the pace starting tomorrow.
I passed several more familiar faces from the combat clubs—receiving more glares and frightened looks—and after a three-hour trek, I finally made it back to the safety of the plaza.
Upon entering, I saw multiple groups huddled together, each surrounding a few individuals armed with weapons. The area was loud with the chatter of teachers and students who had been inside sharing information on monster behavior and combat tactics.
I caught the eye of a group near the entrance, but they all looked away instantly. I’d have given them some tips if they’d asked, but… what a sense of isolation. Then again, I would have ignored the Head Guard if he’d tried to talk to me. Oh, right—he was ‘disposed of’ because of the age limit, wasn’t he? Rest in peace.
Reflecting that choosing the room closest to the dungeon entrance was a stroke of genius, I opened my door and stepped inside.
Now then, time to liquidate these Magic Stones. I’m looking forward to seeing the final tally.
—
Summary:
The protagonist ventures into the dungeon alone, successfully farming 100 Horn Rabbits and gathering Magic Stones and loot. He experiences his first real combat in years, finding the monsters predictable but the dungeon environment vast and full of potential rewards. Along the way, he encounters a group of students whose fear of his violent reputation highlights his social isolation within the new dungeon society. He concludes his first day with a significant profit and a plan to accelerate his progress before the student groups catch up.
—
Character Insight:
The protagonist’s internal monologue reveals a man who has long since abandoned social niceties for a pragmatic, often ruthless efficiency. His ‘personal sanctions’ against bullies and his focus on the ‘reward of women’ show a character who operates entirely outside the expected moral framework of a school employee. This isolation is both a strength, allowing him to monopolize early dungeon gains, and a potential future threat as organized student groups begin to grow in power and harbor grudges.
—
Behind the Scene:
The inclusion of a ‘Battle Sports Club’ likely refers to the real-world sport of HEMA or armored combat, adding a layer of realism to how modern students might quickly adapt to medieval weaponry. The protagonist’s mercenary attitude toward the dungeon mirrors the ‘Solo Leveling’ or ‘Dungeon Crawler’ subgenres, where the early bird catches the worm—or in this case, the Magic Stones and the best room.
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T/L:
Notes:
• Yoru – 25-year-old security guard at Sakuragi Academy. Former child soldier with a traumatic past. Muscular build, 180cm tall, tanned skin, and a large scar on his left face. Struggles with kanji and formal Japanese but is highly competent in physical tasks.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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