Chapter 157 Unwitting Event Boss Creator
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
I considered playing blind the moment those two Magic Device¹ junkies entered my shop, but life is rarely that simple. I let out a heavy sigh, exhaling what little remained of my spirit, and forced myself to address them.
”We’re closed for the day,” I said. “I’ll see you both next time.”
”Do you really think we’d let you escape, Master?” Dahlia asked.
(Tatara-san, if you keep being this mean, I’m going to go cry to Big Sis, okay?) the Chef messaged telepathically.
”I am… deeply sorry,” I muttered.
I offered a stiff, ninety-degree bow to Dahlia – whose eyes were wide and wired as she hovered over the device – and to the Chef, who was leveling a silent, expressionless threat at me. If I tried to bolt, these two would likely hunt me down in full Arcane Armor. If they caught me, the “experience” would be nothing short of terrifying.
”What is it, then?” I asked. “Do you want to hear about the Magic Device from earlier, or is it about the Aarem²?”
(Excuse me, but what on earth is an ‘Aarem’?) the Chef asked.
”…Now that I think about it, I never actually showed the Aarem to you or your crew, did I?” I said.
As I responded to her question, the memories came back. I’d met with the Golem, but the topic of the Aarem had never surfaced. Sensing the shift in the air, Dahlia’s eyes gleamed with the sharp intensity of a hawk spotting its prey. I sighed inwardly. To keep Dahlia from boiling over, I’d have to offer the Chef up as a sacrificial lamb.
”Dahlia, show them ‘Valkyrie’ and ‘Pegasus,’” I commanded.
”Yes, my Master!” she shouted.
With a reply that packed way too much enthusiasm, Dahlia pulled ‘Pegasus’ out of her inventory. The Chef, who had been blinking in confusion at the sudden noise, suddenly found her own eyes sparkling with curiosity the moment the machine appeared.
”This is my latest venture in high-concept entertainment,” I explained. “The Telekinesis-Armor Aarem.”
”Specifically,” Dahlia added, “this is my personal unit, ‘Valkyrie,’ and its high-mobility hanger, ‘Pegasus’.”
(So… this is an Aarem…) the Chef whispered in my mind.
The Chef, being a total gearhead, couldn’t hide her fascination. She stared at Dahlia’s machine with rapt attention.
(Tatara-san! I want one too!) she pleaded.
”I don’t mind making one, but you provide the materials,” I said. “I’ll handle the core.”
(Of course!) she replied instantly.
The Chef began hauling materials out of her inventory. Naturally, she started stacking up massive quantities of Magic Metal. Dahlia’s expression shifted from a bitter smile to a nervous twitch. I’m sure I looked the same. Who brings dozens of kilograms of various Magic Metals just to build one unit? Had she been hoarding this stuff since my last commission?
”I don’t need anywhere near this much,” I said.
”More importantly, Master,” Dahlia interjected, “is it even legal to build an Aarem out of Magic Metal?”
”Technically, there’s nothing stopping us,” I replied. “Though, since the official tournaments haven’t set their regulations yet, your eligibility might be an issue.”
At this rate, the organizers would have to create separate weight classes for regular metal, pseudo-Magic Metal, and pure Magic Metal just to prevent a total slaughter.
(In that case, Tatara-san, please use these materials to build the highest-performance Aarem you can imagine!) the Chef urged.
”The highest performance, huh…?” I mused.
I let her excitement fuel my thoughts. Building an Aarem out of Magic Metal presented a unique set of headaches. Take weight, for instance. My baseline was ‘Lawful,’ the unit I built for the Head of Judiciary. Current regulations capped the weight at two kilograms and the length at thirty centimeters.
If you use Mithril – which is incredibly light – the unit ends up too large for its weight class. But if you shrink it down, it becomes too light; you get amazing mobility, but zero force for close-quarters combat. On the other hand, the mana conductivity is so high that endurance and cannon output would be broken. Matches would just be boring long-range spam fests.
Then there was Adamantite. It’s the hardest material available, but its mana conductivity is bottom-tier. You’d have a tank, but it would be sluggish and unresponsive to the pilot’s telepathy. You’d have to force it to move, which would kill the battery life.
Orichalcum – the mind-sensitive metal – was the best bet for a clean telepathic link. To me, an Orichalcum Aarem is a machine that moves exactly as you think.
”So, depending on the material, the definition of ‘strongest’ changes,” I explained. “There’s no objective best. It’s about whose philosophy the machine matches.”
As I explained the technical hurdles, I started sketching on my magitech word processor. I took the ‘Gagaga’ design I’d made for the Chef and scaled it down into an Aarem, mixing in some of the ‘mecha-girl’ aesthetics from my old world. The result was ‘Cooking Queen GaGaGa.’ I had definitely overdone it.
”Master,” Dahlia said, peering at the screen, “if you’re going with this design, shouldn’t you have modeled it after my face?”
”I told you before, I’m not making an Aarem that looks like you,” I said firmly. “These things are built for battle. I don’t want to watch something with your likeness getting thrashed.”
(Does that mean I’m not pretty enough to be the model?) the Chef asked.
”I’m admitting you’re a beauty under normal circumstances!” I snapped. “I just felt like using the original source material for this was a bad idea. Besides, you’re not exactly descending to the surface just to play with toy robots, are you?”
Knowing the sheer absurdity of these ‘Poster Girl’ events, she probably would. In any RPG, this Chef would definitely be the secret superboss of the Aarem sub-quest.
I looked at the projected blueprint again. I decided to make the black parts of the Hero King’s armor out of Adamantite, the main body out of Mithril, and the internal frame out of Orichalcum, squeezing it all under the two-kilogram limit. I added ‘hair’ made of sublimated Mithril to give it more of the Chef’s flair. It ended up looking more like a ‘Genesic’ variant. Might as well lean into that design.
I redesigned the wings. Inside the frame, I etched a Flight Spell Formula³ into the Mithril using the same logic as a teleportation gate, hidden under the outer plating. To ensure mobility, I paired a Space Compression formula with a Space Release formula. Instead of using air propulsion, it would move by warping the space around it – making it viable even in a vacuum.
”In my opinion, this is the current peak of performance,” I said. “An Orichalcum frame for zero-latency control. A Mithril body for high-efficiency mana circulation. Adamantite plating for perfect offense and defense. And spatial-warping mobility for three-dimensional combat. It’s an Aarem from several generations in the future.”
(Weren’t you just casually inventing brand-new technology just now?) the Chef asked.
She looked at me as if I were some kind of dangerous anomaly. Wait, ‘Compression’ and ‘Release’ were just the basic principles behind inventory storage. They should be pretty common knowledge.
”Master,” Dahlia said slowly, “I require an explanation for this propulsion system.”
”Is it really that rare?” I asked.
It was basically the same tech used in ship-mounted magic cannons. They use released compressed air instead of gunpowder to fire shells. I was just doing it with space itself. The principle was identical.
”Master, that is a completely revolutionary technology,” Dahlia said.
”For real?” I asked.
(What do I do…? Just because he’s making this for me, he’s accidentally dodging his exile flag…) the Chef muttered.
Dahlia seemed to agree with her. I guess if the request came from a ‘Poster Girl’ like the Chef, I could get away with a certain amount of world-breaking without getting kicked out of reality.
”Even so, this is probably only safe at an Aarem’s scale,” I noted.
At full scale, a space-warp drive would reach sub-light speeds. If you used that in an atmosphere, the friction would melt even Magic Metal and the G-forces would tear the machine apart. I could probably fix that with an inertia-dampening spell, but that would definitely get me exiled, so I was skipping it.
Without output limiters, this thing would just launch itself into deep space. I haven’t tested it, but I could feel it – it could hit second cosmic velocity without breaking a sweat. Then again, the real Demon Lords and Poster Girls were the kind of monsters who could probably catch it with their bare hands.
”As a Mechanical Saint, I believe I could master it,” Dahlia said. “Master, let’s install this drive into ‘Triteia’!”
”Don’t be an idiot,” I said. “You’d exceed the structural limits and either disintegrate or burn up in mid-air.”
Without some kind of conceptual protection or law-warping magic – something only a ‘Machine God’ could do to turn her armor into a Divine Relic – ‘Triteia’ just wouldn’t hold together.
”Muu… then how about a low-output version?” Dahlia pouted.
(If you make that, it’s a one-way ticket to exile, Tatara-san,) the Chef warned.
”Apparently, making that would get me exiled,” I told Dahlia. “So, no.”
Since the Chef was right there acting as a reality check, I passed the news to Dahlia. It was actually pretty convenient having her around to judge my inventions. Maybe she should stay at the house permanently? Her tea was great, too.
Dahlia went quiet, her face scrunched up in thought. She didn’t actually want me exiled, so her common sense usually won over her curiosity.
”I’ll leave the blueprints and the theory for a spatial-repulsion drive behind,” I said. “I don’t know when we can actually build it, but let’s leave it at that. Apparently, as long as it stays on paper, the world won’t kick me out.”
”Muu. Yes, my Master,” Dahlia replied.
She sounded reluctant. She wasn’t satisfied; she was just complying.
”I honestly think it’s unfair,” the Chef complained. “Why do the Angels get so much preferential treatment?”
(It’s not that Angels are special. It’s just that for us sisters, since we’re basically extensions of the world’s laws, the rules are a bit more flexible.)
”It’s not an Angel thing,” I explained. “It’s just that the Chef and her sisters are… special cases.”
”What is that, favoritism? Is it because of the chest? You small-statured, heavy-chested girl! Have you no shame!?”
(Whoa!?)
Dahlia, whom I’d just relayed ‘Chef’s’ words to, reached out with a grumble and started kneading ‘Chef’s’ chest. The moment I saw her fingers sink into those petite but ample breasts-even through the fabric-I looked away, stinging with guilt. ‘Chef,’ whose stats should have allowed her to resist, let out a scream that Dahlia completely ignored.
”Stop it, you fool,” I said, dropping a chop on Dahlia’s head. It probably didn’t hurt, but the shock made her stop.
Finally liberated from Dahlia’s wandering hands, ‘Chef’ scrambled to hide behind my back. I had a feeling she was peeking out at Dahlia with just the top of her head showing; I was strangely certain this “small animal” type of girl would act exactly like that.
”But Master, she’s impressive in a totally different way than Ethelena-sama, you know?” Dahlia noted.
”Keep your ‘impressions’ to yourself,” I replied.
”That firmness-it’s soft, yet offers a slight resistance,” Dahlia continued. “It’s like the delicate hesitation of a pushover virgin being pressured by a childhood crush. It captures that poetic mix of fear and the rapturous expectation of finally connecting with-“
”Stop giving me a play-by-play of her b**bs!” I shouted.
I told her to stop acting like Hinagiku-san. This wasn’t an erotic novel or some vocab-heavy fan fiction… wait, I forgot this world was an eroge. Anyway, it was time to get back to business.
”The conversation has derailed so much I almost forgot the point,” I said. “What’s the build philosophy for ‘Chef’s’ Aarem? ⁴“
’Chef’ looked over the materials she’d gathered. After a bit of careful scrutiny, she picked out one kilogram of Orichalcum, eight hundred grams of Adamantite, and two hundred grams of Mithril, then handed them to me.
”I’d like this distribution, please,” ‘Chef’ said. “For the internal mechanisms, the design Tatara-san made earlier will be perfect.”
”Understood,” I replied.
I took the materials and got straight to work. Since I was using high-grade materials unheard of for an Aarem, I was going to make this a masterpiece without a single compromise. I started with the skeletal frame. With ‘Chef’s’ permission, I used ‘Appraisal’ ⁵ to analyze her own skeleton, then reproduced it as a simplified movable frame. I layered Mithril over it as external armor to replicate her body. It was a perfectly balanced golden ratio; the skeletal structure was literally designed to be attractive.
The problem was the face. Since I’ve always been crap at drawing people, modeling ‘Chef’s’ face was a struggle. As I agonized over how to recreate it, it hit me: I didn’t need to memorize it with my head, I just needed to learn it with my hands.
”Sorry, ‘Chef.’ I have a favor to ask,” I said.
”Yes, what is it?” she asked.
”I need to memorize your features to recreate the Aarem’s face. Let me touch you.”
”Yes, of course… wait, what?” she stammered.
Permission granted, I reached out and cupped ‘Chef’s’ face in both hands. I let my palms and fingertips lightly trace her features, letting the shape sink into my hands’ memory. I was careful to be gentle as I engraved the line of her cheeks, her jawline, the bridge of her nose, and her eyes into my mind. I could feel her body heat through my palms, and she was getting warmer by the second.
After about three minutes, the image was locked in. I turned to the Aarem and used ‘Crafting’ ⁶ to sculpt the features. Her features were even more delicate than Ethelena’s, making the contouring difficult. I probably could have let ‘Crafting’ handle the whole thing automatically, but I had a nagging bad feeling about that, so I stuck to the manual work.
Once the face was finished, I used sublimated Mithril for the hair. With the base body complete, I moved on to the armament. For the complex back unit, the Mithril in the internal frame was the key. I forged two base plates and engraved them with Spell Formulas. Mobilizing everything I’d learned from building teleportation gates, I engraved ‘Flight’ formulas onto both wings. On the first plate, I set an ‘Anti-Gravity’ formula in the center. On the second, I engraved ‘Compress’ and ‘Release.’ I layered these together and covered everything in articulated Adamantite armor.
I tested it on my workbench-the same one I’d been reinforcing ever since I had to contain an artificial Orichalcum explosion. The acceleration was so intense that even with my stats, I lost sight of it for a split second before it slammed into the defensive barrier. I installed a limiter to throttle the output and finished the back unit. Though, since the limiter was designed to be easily disengaged by ‘Chef’s’ will alone, the thing was still a certified hazard.
Next came the legs. I made them as an attachment for the base body, starting with the interior. Using Mithril allowed for high-efficiency Mana transfer, which powered the rotating drill mechanisms on the knees. I ditched the tank treads from the original source material in favor of posture-control thrusters. By using ‘Compress’ and ‘Release’ formulas to vent pressurized air, the unit could handle mid-air adjustments and short bursts of acceleration. I changed the feet to have one claw in front and two in the back, creating a shape reminiscent of high heels. The knee-mounted drills were designed to grind through enemy armor when spun.
Then came the arms. I simplified the shoulder design since “Shinkansen” wouldn’t mean anything in this world. The arms were rounded cylinders, but I designed them so the pilot would operate manipulators from within. I added a rotation mechanism to the right wrist and a heavy-duty Mithril-reinforced barrier generator to the left. I couldn’t figure out a Spell Formula to make a launched wrist “return,” so the “Broken-Whatever” was out-it’s just a high-speed rotating fist now.
The headpiece featured four blade antennas, a pair of ear-fins, and a headset with cheek guards that looked like fangs. As a little gimmick, I added a “mask-on” function using sublimated Mithril. It would deploy to hide the mouth during a finishing move. If she pulls off a “Hell and Heaven” ⁷ at the cost of all her energy and that mask snaps into place, it’s going to look badass.
Finally, I finished the body armor. The chest piece was modeled after a lion’s head, and the skirt armor featured a tail-like stabilizer. Yep. No matter how you look at it, it’s the “Cooking King Genesic GaGaGa.” Any normal girl would probably be confused or burst into tears if I handed her this.
”Phew… all done, ‘Chef’,” I said.
I turned to ‘Chef.’ There she was, hands over her mouth and eyes wide with shock-and right next to her was Dahlia, vibrating with excitement at my absolute overkill.
”Master! I want an Aarem made with tons of Magic Metal too!” Dahlia shouted.
”When we have the materials,” I replied. “Also, yours is going to be so illegal that it’ll be banned from every official tournament, so you’ll have to use ‘Valkyria’ for normal stuff. Got it?”
”Yes, my Master!!”
Dahlia is already the only “Machina Saint” ⁸ among the Automaton Maidens, and she’s practically a walking ban-list. I might as well go all out and make her a rule-breaking monster for unofficial matches.
”I have a feeling things will get ugly if yours isn’t tournament-legal,” I said to ‘Chef.’
The world would probably flag ‘Chef’ as a “Hidden Boss” for Aarem events. If she’s breaking regulations during those, it’ll cause a mess. Besides, I think I need to see my own limits by building to spec first before I go off the rails.
”Now, onto the Hanger and Controllers,” I muttered.
I forged the base from Adamantite and the back rails using a Mithril core with an Adamantite shell. To handle the Mana supply, I embedded an ‘Alchemist’s Egg’ ⁹ in the back of the base so it could recharge anywhere.
”And that’s it. The Aarem is complete,” I said. “Keep in mind, nothing of this caliber exists in ‘Whirlwind’ yet, so for a while, Dahlia is probably the only one who can actually keep up with you.”
I handed the Hanger-mounted Aarem to ‘Chef.’ She tucked her stuffed animal into her inventory, took the Aarem, and hugged it tight, giving me a smile so sweet it could’ve melted stone.
”Thank you so much, Tatara-san!” she said.
”Hey, Dahlia,” I said. “I’m thinking of building a private arena in the basement. Somewhere you and ‘Chef’ can cut loose without holding back.”
”That sounds wonderful,” Dahlia replied. “I look forward to being her opponent.”
”Yeah. I’ll have your Magic Metal Aarem ready by then, too.”
Dahlia grinned happily. Her expressions have become so much more vivid lately; it’s a good look for her.
”By the way, Tatara-san,” ‘Chef’ started. “I’d like to hear more about that Magic Device from earlier.”
”Oh, right,” I remembered.
I pulled the ‘Dreadnought’ ¹⁰ out of my inventory and set it on the workbench. Dahlia and ‘Chef’ leaned in, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
”This is a Magic Device designed for anti-‘Earth Dragon’ combat: the ‘Dreadnought,’” I explained. “It’s a heavy-duty gauntlet designed for grappling. The blades on the finger pads rotate to grind through and sever the opponent’s scales.”
Dahlia looked at me, her eyes practically pleading.
”I’m short on materials, and this is just a prototype anyway,” I said. “I need to field-test it myself to check for bugs. I’ll make yours once I’ve got everything dialed in, so just bear with me for now, okay?”
”Yes, my Master,” she agreed, though she looked a bit pouted.
”How exactly do you activate the movement?” ‘Chef’ asked.
”Think of it as plugging directly into the Arcane Armor and siphoning Mana from it,” I said. “But keep in mind, I only designed this to work with the common specs used by Dahlia and myself.”
I gave ‘Chef’ an honest breakdown of the Magic Device, emphasizing that this was strictly a prototype. I hadn’t even considered letting other people-or other parties-near it. An Automaton Maiden like Dahlia might be able to hack her way in, but without a Mana pool as deep as hers, any other user would bottom out in seconds. Besides, the only reason this thing even runs is because I’m using the ‘Egg’ as the core for the ‘Black Brilliance.’
Then again, ‘Chef’s’ ‘Gagaga’-fueled by fragments of the ‘End’ and ‘Genesis’ Goddess Cores-pumps out more than enough power to handle the load. Honestly, the ‘Egg’ doesn’t even register on the scale compared to her output. Still, as a mecha nut, I’d rather build ‘Chef’ her own dedicated gear. I’m talking arm-mounted spatial-distortion drivers or a gravity-wave hammer that can deconstruct a target at the photon level.
”I’d be better off building a high-output Magic Device specifically for the Arcane Armor I gave ‘Chef.’ To be honest, any gear actually worthy of that power source feels like it would be grounds for immediate excommunication from this world’s laws.”
(You’re very perceptive. At the very least, it will be difficult to justify more equipment until we solve the issue of your pending banishment, Tatara-san.)
Great, the ‘poster girl’ seal of approval. If I don’t fix this, I’m in deep. Knowing my track record, I’ll probably step over some cosmic line without even realizing it. Maybe it was just because I was with ‘Chef,’ but while I was building the Aarem, I didn’t feel that usual gut-warning I get when I mess with new-model acceleration mechs. If I keep losing my edge like this, I’m going to try building something for Dahlia, my intuition will fail me, and I’ll be exiled from existence before I can blink.
”So, how exactly do I lift these restrictions?” I asked.
(…Did Big Sis not explain it to you?)
”I got the gist. I need to anchor more Gods as my ‘tethers,’ right?”
(There was more to it than that. Especially… what Big Sis truly wants.)
”If that involves stripping you girls of your power, forget it. I’m not doing it,” I said firmly.
(But why? If you do that…)
”I already told ‘Archangel,’ and now I’m telling you. I like you sisters. I want to see you smiling. I don’t want anything to happen that would hurt you.”
(…It’s because you’re like that… that Big Sis has to suffer so much,) she muttered, her expression pained.
Looking at her, it was clear we were talking past each other. There was some fundamental disconnect in how the ‘poster girls’ and I viewed the concept of ‘taking their power.’
”Look, ‘Archangel’ already had her power stolen once. There is no way I’m okay with her-or any of you-going through that again.”
(…I see. From a human perspective, I suppose that’s how it looks.)
It wasn’t just a gap between human and ‘poster girl’ logic. Her method felt like it was coming from a completely different direction.
”Wait- ‘Archangel’ lost her power because her wings were ripped away, right?”
(W-well… yes, that’s true.)
”So, if I’m going to ‘take your power,’ that means I have to take your wings too, right?”
(…Ah!!)
At my question, ‘Chef’ looked like she’d just been hit by a bolt of lightning. Her face turned a vivid, explosive crimson.
”Wait, am I wrong?”
(N-n-no! Not at all! Definitely not!!)
”You’re denying it so hard it’s basically a confession,” I muttered.
(P-p-please! Just drop it!!)
Yeah, if I push this any further, I’m going to trip a massive landmine. Better to back off.
”Master, what were you two whispering about?” Dahlia asked.
”Nothing, just… a slight difference in perspective.”
”I could only hear your half, Master, but it sounded like you were discussing how to avoid your exile?”
”Something like that…”
Apparently, my assumption that ‘taking power’ required taking wings was way off the mark. Judging by ‘Chef’s’ reaction, the real method is something much more… intimate? Or at least totally different. Regardless, I got the feeling that if I pushed for details, ‘Chef’ would burst into tears. And if that happened, ‘Archangel’ would probably swoop in and end my life on the spot. That woman has zero mercy for anyone who makes her little sister cry, benefactor or not.
”Hey, ‘Chef.’ Taking your power… it isn’t about taking your wings, is it?”
’Chef’ gave a slow, silent nod.
(That method would only make us lose our power; it wouldn’t let you ‘take’ it for yourself. Besides, once our wings are gone, we can almost never get them back without a miracle.)
Hearing her, my mind went back to the ‘poster girl’ events in Beyond the Deep Darkness. In the game, the protagonist, Smith, retrieves ‘Archangel’s’ wings but can’t reattach them. In the epilogue, ‘Archangel’ eventually gives up on her power and chooses to live as a human. But that was a time-sensitive flag; if you didn’t meet her for a week, it would break. You’d get a letter later saying she’d regained her power and gone home, but the ‘how’ was never explained. It was a total mystery to the player. That letter was actually an event CG-you needed it to 100% the game.
Some players preferred the human ending, others the ‘return home’ ending. Given the completionist CG, I always figured the ‘True History’ was the one where she didn’t stay with Smith. The devs probably wanted to give her a send-off as a human but couldn’t bear to let go of the ‘poster girl’ fans loved, so they brought her back for that final shot.
Now, because of me, the real ‘Archangel’ can go home, but the whole situation is a total anomaly. Even if I were told to do the same thing I did with that sword, I wouldn’t trust myself to pull it off again. My Crafter’s gut says it was a fluke-a one-in-a-million miracle. Trying to reproduce it would probably kill me. Besides, even if I could forge something from ‘poster girl’ wings, I doubt I could even use it. In the game, the villain who stole her wings just wanted to degrade her. He thought he could use them as a power-up, but he never could; he just hoarded them. It makes sense now. There’s no known way to process the wings themselves. I did it as a kid, but even I don’t know how I managed that.
”Well, I’m not planning on stealing anyone’s power, so let’s just leave it at that,” I said.
(…Yeah. I guess so.)
Why did she sound disappointed?
”Is there anything else?” I asked.
(Well… I actually wanted to ask for some armaments for my Arcane Armor… but I’m so happy with Aarem that I’m satisfied for now!)
She hugged her ‘Chef Genesic Gagaga’ with a beaming smile, leaving me with a wry grin.
(In that case, consider these materials your payment!)
”Wait a sec-“
(Let’s play with Aarem again soon!)
’Chef’ vanished with a smile before I could stop her. All that was left were me, Dahlia, and a literal mountain of Magic Metal-at least twenty kilos of every variety.
”Dahlia, you want me to forge you a weapon?” I asked.
”I do, but let’s save it for another day,” she replied.
Her thoughtfulness hit home. I was wiped out.
After stashing the haul in my Inventory, I knocked out my daily routine-forging one ‘Sky Rift’-and crashed. I woke up naturally the next morning, washed up, and headed for the kitchen. Out in the garden, I saw Yohira dancing to the Acting Head’s flute. I hadn’t seen it in a few days, but it was the heart of our daily life. Even if it had only been a short while, it felt like a lifetime since I’d watched them.
”Morning, Ichika. Morning, Miss Mitsuha,” I called out.
”Morning, Master!” Ichika chirped.
”Good morning, Master Tatara,” Mitsuha replied-de-gozaru.
I greeted them as they worked side-by-side, then I dove into the cooking. Ichika was teaching Mitsuha the ‘Whirlwind’ style. My mood lifted at the thought of a Western breakfast after so long. I sliced and toasted the bread, then started the soup, keeping the heat low. I went with the corn potage Ichika loved. I scraped the kernels, crushed them, and strained them carefully. I minced an onion and sautéed it until clear, then dusted it with flour.
I stirred in the corn and water, making sure it didn’t scorch. Just as I reached for the milk, I saw Mitsuha pull out some soy milk and pivoted instantly. I took the soy milk she offered, stirred it in, and added tiny cubes of tofu instead of croutons. I finished it with a few cracks from the pepper mill, and the Soy Milk Corn Potage was done.
The toast was perfect, so I plated two slices for everyone. Ichika had made scrambled eggs based on Ethelena’s recipe. The smell told me she’d used white dashi as a base-Hizuru-style scrambled eggs. It was a weird fusion, Whirlwind recipes with a Hizuru soul, but it worked.
”Hey! Breakfast is ready!” I shouted toward the garden.
I walked out to call Yohira and the others, only to find Yohira and Ibara-san in the middle of a war zone. This wasn’t ‘practice.’ It was sharp, heavy, and blindingly fast. The air was thick with genuine bloodlust.
It wasn’t a spar. It was a duel.
”Um, Acting Head?” I muttered.
”Ah, good morning, Tatara-dono.”
”Morning… Mind telling me why they’re trying to kill each other?”
As I watched, Ibara-san dodged Yohira’s strike and grabbed the hem of her kimono to yank her off balance. Instead of fighting it, Yohira used the momentum to throw a heavy body blow. Ibara-san caught it, grabbed her collar, and went for a throw, but Yohira leaped, righted herself in mid-air, and landed perfectly.
”Umu. Ibara asked Yohira about her relationship with you. Yohira told her she was a ‘fiancée on her last legs,’ and then had the gall to ask Ibara about her own disastrous record with matchmaking.”
”Ah. So she stepped on a landmine…”
Yeah, an older sister being outclassed by her younger sibling would definitely trigger a meltdown. Especially someone as proud as Ibara-san.
”You two! Stop right now or you’re both skipping breakfast!” I yelled.
”Tatara-dono, I don’t think those two will stop for-“
In a blur, Yohira’s blade stopped at Ibara-san’s throat, and Ibara-san’s fist froze an inch from Yohira’s nose.
”…Oh. They stopped.”
”Yohira-tan’s been away for a few days, so this is her first home-cooked meal in a while. Even Ibara-san has managed to remember her manners, never failing to offer a ‘Gochisousama’ ¹¹ after she finishes. Honestly, once you’ve won over their stomachs, the battle’s already won,” I muttered.
The Acting Head of the Family shot me a bizarre look, but I ignored him. When Dahlia-tan finally wakes up, I’ll have to ask her to escort him over to the arena.
I slid a pat of butter across the toast. The surface was golden-brown and crisp, yet it still yielded with a satisfying crunch as I piled on Ichika-kun’s scrambled eggs and took a massive bite.
The crust crackled, but the inside was pillowy and chewy, filling my mouth with the rich aroma of wheat. Then came the velvety richness of the butter and the deep, savory flavor of the eggs, followed by the hit of the seafood dashi. Since they were soft-boiled, the eggs coated my tongue, delivering the umami punch directly to my taste buds.
I took a sip of the soy milk corn potage. The sweetness of the corn mingled with the creamy density of the soy. It was a bit lighter than cow’s milk, but paired with the toast, it felt perfectly balanced. The bits of cotton tofu inside still had a nice bite to them; when I crushed them against my palate, the soybean flavor asserted itself boldly. Yeah, cotton tofu is good, but maybe I should’ve used extra-firm tofu ¹² as croutons, I thought. Well, it was a spur-of-the-moment recipe. Next time, I’ll be more tactical with breakfast.
”So, Tatara-dono, what is your plan for today?” the Acting Head asked, sipping his post-meal coffee.
”I’m thinking of doing some exploration in the dungeon,” I replied.
”Hmm, I see.”
”Dahlia-tan will be at the arena too, so I think we’ll manage to keep everyone from getting lost,” I said.
”Is that what you’re worried about?!” he barked.
Look, the ‘lost child’ gene is standard-issue equipment for the Torakuma family. If one of them was walking through ‘Whirlwind’ alone and I suddenly found out they’d accidentally crossed the border into another country, I wouldn’t even blink.
”I shall go with Tatara as well,” Yohira-tan announced. “A woman should protect the man she loves with her own hands, after all -noja.”
”…I see,” Ibara-san whispered.
Hey, hey, Yohira, don’t just casually provoke her like that. It was hard to see through her hair, but I could practically see a massive vein throbbing on Ibara-san’s temple.
”Mitsuha-san, I’m sorry to ask, but please look after the house,” I said.
”Hehe, consider it done. I’ll practice with my magic devices while I’m at it,” Mitsuha-san replied cheerfully.
I let out a sigh of relief. If I drag Ichika-kun along with me, there’s no one left to supervise the idiots or handle the chores. I’m really glad Mitsuha-san joined us.
”How many floors do you plan to descend today?” Tatia-tan asked.
”I’m aiming for the 49th. I plan to avoid that boss, but depending on how Ichika-kun’s growth goes, we might push a bit further.”
Ichika-kun should be more than capable of filling Ethelena’s shoes, and since I’ve picked up some scout skills, I can cover the gaps. The biggest issue is that if we actually try to take on that shitty boss, our raw firepower is still a little thin. I’ll have to see how much Ichika-kun’s level and stats jump by the time we hit the 49th before I decide.
”Now that you mention it, Tatara, what is your current level?” Yohira-tan asked.
”I’m 69. If I kill about twenty random mobs, I level up, so there’s no real need to dive that deep.”
”What on earth do you mean by that, Tatara-dono?” Tatia-tan asked, tilting her head.
I realized I’d never told them about the crown. “Remember that flower crown I got from the fairy?”
Yohira-tan and Ichika-kun both grimaced in unison. Yeah, I definitely stepped on a landmine there… but this thing is mandatory.
”The crown adds 5 to all experience gained. Because of that, my level jumps every 20 kills,” I explained.
Everyone in the room looked completely repulsed. Technically, adding the +5 to the base minimum of 1 gives me 6, and with the 40% bonus on top, the guaranteed minimum is 8 per kill. It’s honestly absurd.
”Master… would it be possible to lend that to me -degozaru?” Ichika-kun asked.
”Actually, it’s soul-bound. My ‘Appraisal’ says no one but me can use it.”
I pulled out the ‘Blessed Flower Crown’ to show them. Yohira-tan checked it with her own skill, looked exasperated, and shook her head. “It is undoubtedly exclusive to Tatara. It is labeled the same way as my ‘Temari-bana’.”
Ichika-kun looked visibly disappointed. She wanted to get back to her original level as fast as possible to be effective in combat again.
”Is there any chance of obtaining another one?” Tatia-tan asked.
”Maybe if I’m with you, but that would require exploring past the 51st floor,” I said.
”Then it is simply not realistic, at least for now… -noja” Yohira-tan sighed, bringing the discussion to a close.
After our meeting, the four of us headed to the dungeon. We did a quick gear check and dived right in. The upper floors were a joke. Because Ichika-kun was leading the charge and slaughtering everything to level up, Yohira-tan didn’t even get a chance to grind. Ichika-kun was using the ‘Impact Wing’ I made her to shred enemies into confetti. Her clear speed reminded me of a high-mobility unit with a map-wipe weapon. Honestly, I only had a turn when we ran into a Golem.
We hit the 21st floor. Ichika-kun had already soared past level 20. As I watched her work, dazed by the speed, we found the local specialty.
”…They look as dim-witted as ever -noja,” Yohira-tan remarked.
”For real. Just strolling along without a care in the world,” I agreed.
We’d spotted a blue-skinned ‘Muumin.’ Last time they saw the crown, they handed over items. I steeled my resolve and stepped out. The Muumins tried to bolt, but the moment they saw the crown, they froze.
After that, they showered me with boxes and bags. I ended up with a perfect set of status-up items.
”…It’s like you’re flashing a high-ranking official’s seal ¹³,” Yohira-tan said, sounding impressed.
I wondered if that kind of ‘badge-flashing’ culture from the old samurai shows had developed in Hizuru. Maybe it’s from the stage plays the kids watch.
We continued our dive, descending until we stood before the Boss Room on the 50th floor.
* * *
**[EVENT: TATIA — ‘POSTER GIRL’ SEQUENCE INITIATED]**
* * *
This was a village on the world’s ragged edge. A mere speck on the border of the Empire¹⁴, one of the globe’s true titans. Here, villagers once lived through a blur of honest labor, and children grew up safe among familiar faces. It was a common, quiet peace-the kind of happiness found anywhere.
In a heartbeat, it was liquidated.
In the Imperial Year 987, as the Empire neared its millennium, the neighboring Kingdom¹⁵ declared war with a devastating surprise attack. The Empire had long anchored its economy on vast, fertile plains, exporting life-sustaining grain to secure foreign currency. But the Kingdom, once their greatest partner, had been broken by a years-long “Great Freeze.” Their recovery failed; their King died. Their economy was a corpse.
Driven by desperation under a new monarch, the Kingdom turned its eyes toward the Empire’s dirt and resolved to take it. On paper, the Empire’s strength was eleven times that of the Kingdom, its military five times larger. But when the first blood was spilled, the reality was a nightmare. In just three years, one-eighth of the Empire’s territory was devoured.
That staggering gap was closed by a single, terrifying variable. The survivors of the front lines all told the same story. They spoke of an iron devil that mowed down everything in its path.
Houses burned. Livestock burned. People burned.
Kingdom units hunted down those who resisted and violated those who couldn’t. There was no order-only a screaming frenzy. Reason vanished. Only beasts remain, living by the law of the jungle, existing only to crush and plunder.
There was a boy who watched it all. He bit his own hand to stifle his screams until his knuckles were raw and bloody, his eyes locked on the sight of his father being butchered and his mother and sisters being raped before him. Still a young child, he watched from a hole in the floorboards as his family threw their lives into the gears of the slaughter to hide him.
His father had fought to the last to buy them seconds. For his trouble, the soldiers severed his arms and crucified him-forcing him to watch the violation of his wife and daughters. The mother, seeing her husband dismantled, lost her mind while the men took their turns; she eventually bit through her own tongue to end it. The eldest sister, barely a woman herself, succumbed to the weight and brutality of the soldiers and died beneath them.
The boy witnessed every second. He tasted his own blood and forced his mind to remain cold. He was far too intelligent for his own good; he knew a single sound meant death. He knew his family had traded their souls for his breath. To die with them would have been a mercy.
Instead, he let his heart be consumed by a singular, freezing need for revenge.
He listened to the Kingdom soldiers swap vulgar jokes. He watched the sub-human scum drive a final blade into his father’s heaving chest. He watched the animals spend their lust on the corpses of his family.
Then, he looked outside.
There it stood: a silhouette ten times the height of a man, a majestic, terrifying titan wielding a massive sword and shield. A single swing leveled houses and turned men into red mist. To the villagers, it looked like a god in plate armor. To the boy, it was a machine. An ultra-heavy Arcane Armor¹⁶-a piloted Golem¹⁷.
The boy began to read its soul. He decoded its joints, its plating, its heart.
He would uncover that power. He would steal it. He would use it to break them. Through tears of blood, he spent that night analyzing the mechanics of his own destruction.
* * *
Three years passed. The Kingdom’s army had long since moved on. The boy had survived, pulled from the ruins by an Imperial scout unit. At first, High Command laughed at his “iron giant” stories. Then the reports began to crawl back from the front. The eyewitness accounts matched. The threat was real: a colossus of iron that moved with the fluid lethality of a human master. The Imperial Army was being routed, kicked aside like dogs.
The Empire, having lost an eighth of its land and still unable to find a countermeasure, finally received a single, impossible report:
We have successfully reproduced the Kingdom’s Iron Colossus.
”Is this really the place?” asked the Officer.
”Yes, sir. No mistake,” the soldier replied.
Clad in a lavish dress uniform, the Officer followed his guide through a refugee sector born from the invasion. They reached a strangely desolate corner where a single, oversized workshop stood. In an age of overcrowding, such a waste of land was suspicious. The soldier entered with practiced ease, the Officer following close behind.
The soldier was already speaking to a youth, but the Officer’s eyes were elsewhere. He was staring at a metallic sole of a foot that stood taller than a grown man, etched with complex, anti-slip grooves. The rest of the limb was shrouded in heavy cloth, but the sheer scale suggested something massive was lying in wait in the shadows.
”…What is this?” the Officer breathed.
”Aarem,” a voice answered-thin, but hard as glass.
”Aarem? What on earth is that?” the Officer asked.
The boy stepped away from the soldier. His hair was a haunting white, shot through with patches of black like scorched steel. “The Kingdom’s iron giant. The one that erased my village. I don’t know their name for it, so I call it ‘Aarem’ based on the architecture.”
”You… you actually unraveled the Kingdom’s secret?”
”It’s a hybrid,” the boy said coldly. “An ultra-large Arcane Armor crossed with a piloted Golem. I combined ‘Armor’ and ‘Golem.’ Aarem.”
The Officer stared. This boy, barely past his tenth birthday, had unraveled a secret the Empire’s entire R&D department couldn’t touch.
”Can it move?”
”Theoretically,” the boy replied. “I haven’t run a live field test. If I have to iron out the bugs alone, it’ll take five years to reach combat readiness.”
The Officer grimaced. Five years was an eternity. Yet, he realized with a chill that five years was an impossibly fast development cycle for such a machine.
”What are their weaknesses?” the Officer demanded.
”First: the legs,” the boy rattled off. “The center of gravity is dangerously high. Supporting that much mass puts localized strain on the joints. If you treat them like fast Giants and build tactics around that, they aren’t so scary.”
”I heard they were lightning-fast,” the Officer countered.
”If you apply human martial arts to something that size, yes, it’s a threat. This machine is the embodiment of that threat.”
”Second: the sensors. They have a high vantage point, but the optics are narrow to protect the enchantments. They have massive blind spots. Lure them into traps.”
”How do you know that?” the Officer asked.
”I built a helmet modeled after their heads and tested it,” the boy said flatly.
The Officer went quiet. He wondered how much raw hatred it took to be this methodical.
”Third: weight. Scale a person up ten times, and the weight increases by a thousand. If they trip, the shock to the pilot is lethal. The power-to-weight ratio is a nightmare. If you force them into a long pursuit, the legs will literally disintegrate.”
”But it’s a machine. Can’t they just repair it?” the soldier asked.
”If you can’t fix it on the spot, it’s just a coffin,” the boy said. “The real question is whether your ‘knights’ have the guts to swallow their pride and turn their backs to the enemy to lure them out.”
”That is not how a knight thinks,” the Officer said.
”If you want to die for ‘pride,’ be my guest,” the boy spat. “I’ll crawl through the mud and the shit if it means I get to kill them.”
The Officer didn’t have time for a moral debate. “We’re requisitioning this.”
The boy’s expression darkened. “You’re taking my revenge?”
”The State will analyze this and begin mass production,” the Officer said firmly.
The boy pivoted instantly. “I have conditions.”
”Food, housing-name it.”
”I’m part of the production team,” the boy said, his voice vibrating with frantic energy. “And you need me. I’m the only one who can make the power source.”
”What?” the Officer asked. “What is this thing running on?”
The boy looked the Officer in the eye. “Philosopher’s Stone¹⁸.”
Silence fell over the room. They were staring at a myth-a legendary substance said to hold infinite Mana¹⁹.
”Where did you find-!?” the soldier started.
”I didn’t find it. I made it,” the boy said. “I built everything I needed. I made sure it was better than their Aarem. I made sure it was perfect.”
The heat in his voice was enough to scorch the air.
”The conditions stand. I’m part of the project. I’ll teach you to make the Stones. I’ll teach you to forge the Magic Metal. But in exchange…”
He let out a breath that sounded like a sob of pure, molten rage.
”Let me build the weapons. Let me build the things that will slaughter the people who killed my father. Let me wipe them off the face of the earth.”
And so, the curtain rose on the boy’s quest for vengeance.
—
Summary:
Tatara Yuki is coerced by Dahlia and the Chef into creating a high-performance Aarem (mecha) using a massive hoard of Magic Metals. He designs a unit based on the ‘GaGaGa’ mecha from his previous life, incorporating dangerous spatial compression technology. While the tech is revolutionary, it carries a high risk of causing Tatara’s exile from the world due to its overpowered nature.
After a comedic interlude where Dahlia molests ‘Chef,’ Tatara gets to work crafting a high-end Aarem unit for ‘Chef’ using top-tier materials. He uses his hands to tactilely memorize ‘Chef’s’ facial features for the build, leading to an awkward moment. The chapter concludes with the completion of the ‘Genesic GaGaGa’ unit and the introduction of the ‘Dreadnought’ anti-dragon gauntlet prototype.
Tatara discusses Arcane Armor specs with Chef, realizing he has been misunderstanding how to ‘take power’ from poster girls. He avoids a social landmine with Chef only to encounter a literal battle at home over breakfast. The sisters Yohira and Ibara duel over a comment regarding their romantic prospects, ending only when food is threatened.
After a domestic breakfast, Tatara and his party (Yohira, Ichika, and Tatia) dive into the dungeon. They utilize Tatara’s broken XP-buffing crown to rapidly level Ichika. They reach the 50th floor boss room just as a special event involving Tatia triggers.
A border village is brutally destroyed by the Kingdom’s ‘Iron Giants,’ leaving a young boy as the sole witness to his family’s massacre. Three years later, an Imperial officer discovers the boy has independently reverse-engineered the enemy’s secret weapon. The boy negotiates his way into the Empire’s military project to fuel his obsession with revenge.
—
Trivia:
- The ‘Aarem’ is a toy-sized telekinetic battle robot around 30cm tall.
- Tatara’s spatial compression tech is actually derived from analyzing the Inventory system.
- The ‘Poster Girls’ are special entities linked to the world’s laws, which helps Tatara avoid the ‘exile’ penalty for his innovations.
- The design ‘Cooking Queen GaGaGa’ is a reference to the ‘GaoGaiGar’ anime series.
- Adamantite has terrible mana conductivity despite its hardness.
- Tatara is bad at drawing, which is why he has to touch ‘Chef’s’ face.
- The ‘Genesic GaGaGa’ is a direct reference to GaoGaiGar, including its moves.
- Dahlia is the only ‘Machina Saint’ and is basically banned from official play.
- The Aarem has a hidden ‘mask-on’ gimmick for finishing moves.
- The ‘Dreadnought’ gauntlet is specifically designed to kill Earth Dragons.
- The ‘Egg’ is the power source for Tatara’s ‘Black Brilliance’.
- Tatara forged a sword from poster girl wings as a child but doesn’t know how.
- The game ‘Beyond the Deep Darkness’ has a completionist CG involving a letter from Archangel.
- Mitsuha uses ‘de-gozaru’ speech particles.
- The sisters stopped fighting instantly when breakfast was threatened, showing their priority.
- Tatara’s crown is ‘soul-bound’ and cannot be shared.
- The ‘lost child’ trait is an actual family characteristic of the Torakumas.
- Ichika is using a custom weapon called ‘Impact Wing’ that acts like a map-clear weapon.
- The blue Muumins are docile and provide items when shown the crown.
- Mitsuha is staying behind to manage the house.
- The protagonist has a specific ‘Appraisal’ skill that allowed him to analyze the machines.
- The name ‘Aarem’ is a portmanteau of Armor and Golem.
- The Empire’s population/military significantly outnumbers the Kingdom’s, yet they are losing.
- The boy’s hair changed color due to trauma (Marie Antoinette syndrome).
- The machines have a critical weight-to-power ratio weakness
—
Character Insight:
Tatara shows a protective side by refusing to use Dahlia’s face as a model for a battle robot, showing he values her beyond just being a colleague. Dahlia displays her growth as a ‘Mechanical Saint’ by recognizing the revolutionary nature of Tatara’s new drive system.
Tatara shows his perfectionist streak as a crafter, refusing to compromise even when the game system could automate the process. Dahlia continues to show more human-like expressions and emotional growth, while ‘Chef’ displays a growing physical attraction or at least a reaction to Tatara’s touch.
Tatara shows his dense nature regarding the ‘poster girls’ true feelings/methods but demonstrates his core kindness by refusing to hurt them for power. Chef shows signs of disappointment when Tatara drops the subject of ‘taking power,’ hinting at the intimate nature of the real method.
Tatara shows his ‘gamer’ side by meticulously calculating XP gains and party composition, while also being the ‘mom’ of the group by cooking and worrying about the household chores.
Aarem has transitioned from a traumatized child to a cold, hyper-rational engineer. His motive is purely genocidal revenge against the Kingdom, showing a total lack of concern for ‘knightly pride’ or traditional morals.
—
Behind the Scenes:
The author uses ‘Aarem’ as a play on ‘ARM’ or ‘Mecha,’ and frequently references 90s super robot tropes.
The author leans heavily into 90s mecha anime tropes, specifically the ‘Brave’ series (Yuusha), while maintaining the meta-narrative that the world operates on eroge logic.
The ‘Gagaga’ and ‘Genesic’ terms are a homage to the mecha anime ‘The King of Braves GaoGaiGar’.
The ‘seal’ reference is a nod to Mito Komon, a famous Japanese period drama where the protagonist reveals a crest to reveal his high status and end a conflict.
The author uses a ‘dark engineering’ trope where the protagonist’s genius is born directly from extreme psychological trauma, creating a ‘mad scientist’ origin story in a fantasy setting.
—
TL Notes:
Notes:
• Dahlia – The automaton.
• Hinagiku – A tengu woman as Ranka’s potential companion. She stays with Tatara’s group after travels. Joins household scenes only. Linked to Ranka by shared gluttony jokes. No direct tie to Tatara beyond cohabitation. Cheerful eater.
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name. Oni warrior.
• Ichika – The fox girl. Kunoichi. Virgincest⚠️, becomes pregnant immediately.
• Mitsuha – Second daughter of the Torakuma family (Yohira’s sister). She is quiet, awkward, surprisingly deadpan, and possesses a gentle, nurturing side (shown with Cornremu). Hair so long it trailed across the floor like Tomie Kawakami (Junji Ito), face half-hidden by hair, single dark horn (above brow), loose violet robes.
• Ibara – Eldest daughter of the Torakuma family (Yohira’s sister). She is sharp, formal, and possesses a predatory confidence and dry humor. Relative of the Narrator’s ex-companion (Yohira) and a new house guest/guard. Short black hair (neatly at the shoulder), crimson horn (from forehead), eyes of molten gold, red and black kimono like Shuten-dōji (Fate).
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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