Volume 6 Chapter 36 The Basement Trainer
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
It seems that the Big Castor suddenly decided to take a detour along the long staircase leading down into the underground.
Hmmm, what should I do? Should I proceed on my own? If this were a game, a selection menu would be appearing right now. Depending on the story branch, there might even be a bad ending waiting. For me, if I get discovered by the enemy, it’s basically game over. However, if the only opponents are those two weaklings, I feel like I could still push through with sheer strength. Still, fighting should always be the last resort.
For now, I’ve decided to follow the Big Castor. I want to see this so-called Little Castor’s face. And if “the women” are actually Ms. Shirakaba and her group, then I need to rescue them. It’s rare for someone to kidnap a duke’s daughter, but this man has a criminal record, so it’s not entirely impossible.
That said, without the butler’s key ring, we can’t open the door and move forward. There’s no need to rush—after all, the night is long.
A detour… a side path? It seems like we’re heading toward the underground prison.
In this world, noble houses typically have underground prisons. It’s not something anyone would be proud of, but they’re apparently necessary for various reasons. I’m not a noble myself, but Mr. Laken’s old mansion in Toyata Village, back when he was the village chief, also had one. It seems the spider woman is being held there now. Technically, she should have become my property, but I let it go after being misled. Someone like Shea-Shea would never overlook a scam like that, but Mr. Laken just never learns.
There’s a reason real prisons are often built underground. Since they’re used to confine criminals and enemy soldiers, comfort isn’t a priority, and they’re rarely cleaned. Naturally, this makes them unsanitary. The very idea of a comfortable prison seems so absurd to the people of this world that they can’t even comprehend it. Here, the harsh conditions themselves are considered part of the punishment. I suppose that’s a cultural difference.
When people are locked away in filthy conditions and mistreated, it’s only natural they fall ill. To prevent epidemics, these prisons are built to be easy to bury or seal off entirely. I’m not an expert in medicine, but I wonder if infections can really be prevented with such crude methods. Then again, in this world, people either return to death or vanish when they die, so cleaning up afterward is easier.
A foul stench strong enough to twist one’s nose filled the air—this must be the smell of the underground prison. It’s like the stench of the slums in the royal capital where the sewage system barely functions, only more intense due to the confined space.
Normally, a noble would never set foot in such a place, yet the Big Castor walked forward without hesitation. Each time the butler’s lantern swayed, eerie shadows danced along the corridor. The cells lining both sides were pitch black, making them even more terrifying. I realized that it’s the presence of light that makes darkness feel all the more oppressive. Personally, I’d prefer there to be no light at all.
The solitary cells were built within arched supports along the ceiling—rather than separate rooms, the spaces between the pillars were repurposed as holding cells, giving the structure a makeshift feel. The rusted iron bars looked as if they might snap if kicked hard enough.
Filth leaked from within the cells, reaching the edge of the corridor. A slightly raised cobblestone path ran down the center, likely designed to keep one’s shoes clean. I wonder how they deliver food to the prisoners—do they just toss in some bread?
Of the nearly one hundred solitary cells, most were empty, but a few contained figures who resembled ragged bundles of cloth. They looked like zombies at first glance, but if you listened carefully, you could hear them breathing with a wheeze. Could it be a respiratory illness? It wouldn’t be surprising in an environment like this.
All of them appeared to be young women. But at this level of filth, it was impossible to distinguish gender—they simply looked inhuman. If someone claims to be a saint, then they must be capable of rushing into a place like this and embracing such pitiful souls without hesitation. I could never do such a thing.
Part of me feels ashamed. But perhaps it’s precisely because saints do what ordinary people cannot that they are saints. And maybe familiarity plays a part. I recall hearing something similar from a caregiver in a documentary once.
At the end of the corridor stood a grand oak door. A classic setup. In a game, this would be the boss room. If an actual boss appeared now, it would be quite the problem.
Judging by its design, this door was likely crafted several centuries ago. The surface was weathered, but the quality of the wood was excellent—it could probably be restored to its original state with some light planing. These days, large oak timber is hard to find, and prices are climbing fast. If this door were sold in the royal capital, it would fetch a high price. Leaving it here in a dungeon is a terrible waste.
As I pondered the dwindling forest resources of this world, the butler began working on unlocking the door. It was probably a cylinder lock, but due to interference with my Radar Scan, I couldn’t fully perceive the internal mechanism. The sensation was oddly frustrating, yet also a little refreshing. Lately, I’ve unconsciously been using my skills to scan everything around me. Back in Japan, I could only rely on what I could see. It’s a nostalgic feeling.
It was unexpected that even my fully leveled Radar Scan could be disrupted, but I could roughly guess the mechanism and had already thought of several countermeasures. Given time, I could probably deal with it using my Editor skill. When I next visit Uno, I’ll try experimenting a bit more.
The bolt creaked as it slid open. I think it made a brass-like sound, but I’m not entirely sure. Mr. Zenom would have known right away, but I still lack the experience.
If it’s just a cylinder lock, Ms. Lime—who can reshape her body freely—should be able to unlock it easily. The real issue is whether she understands how the key works. High Slime tends to be weak with mechanical things. But then again, aside from dwarves, most humans in this world struggle with machines. Maybe I should make a toy like the wisdom ring for her to practice with.
Once the door was fully opened, the butler stepped aside respectfully, waiting for the grand Castor to enter. Since this was a special occasion, I decided to go in first. The direction in which a door opens also matters, especially in terms of defense. This one opened inward, probably to prevent it from being broken down easily.
There was no boss behind the door.
The ceiling was low, but the room itself was spacious. It must have originally been a torture chamber. Several iron rings were attached to the walls, with thin chains hanging from them. To prevent prisoners from tearing themselves free, it’s more effective to embed spikes inside the shackles than to simply thicken the chains. In their cruelty, evildoers often show surprising ingenuity.
About half the room was elevated like a stage. Deep red tapestries hung from the walls, cleverly concealing the grim ambiance. The dark red-stained floor might have been unsettling, but the luxurious carpets made the scene appear almost elegant.
It was the power of lighting. The wall-mounted lamps were arranged to illuminate only the clean areas. Or perhaps it was the reverse—only the areas lit by the lamps were quickly covered with fabric to hide the rest.
Speaking of which, noble mansions in this world often use extravagant fabrics to create an air of opulence. Dwarves build even hidden parts with care, but human architecture focuses on outward appearances. I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing. There’s no need to decorate rooms that aren’t used regularly. Fabric is easy to move, borrow, or lend. It’s a practical way to transform a basement into a miniature palace.
And then, there was a sweet scent. Though the heavy door couldn’t completely block the stench, it seemed to be masked by perfume.
Interestingly, foul odors and pleasant fragrances share many components. A skilled perfumer can even turn a woman’s body odor into a scent that attracts men. It’s like adding soy sauce to pudding and making it taste like sea urchin.
The transformation of a sewer-like smell into something alluring almost felt like magic. Perhaps real magic was involved.
This room appeared to be an adult’s playroom created by Little Castor.
At the center of the stage sat a large, majestic chair—something that couldn’t be moved by one person alone. It resembled a throne. For a high-ranking noble, owning too many items like this could raise suspicions of rebellion.
Seated in the throne-like chair was a young man—presumably Little Castor. He resembled Big Castor in his facial features. Those narrow, sharp eyes with a proud glint might be a family trait of the Duke Mineleys. Tizzy has a similar look, though in a more refreshing way.
The man looked extremely pleased, surrounded by elegantly dressed women. Two stood on either side of him. Two others leaned gently against him, while several lounged on cushions before the stage, posing gracefully.
If he were holding a brandy glass or stroking a cat, it would have been the perfect image of a villain. It’s a little disappointing that he didn’t go all the way.
The scene felt too staged—too clean—to resemble a real harem. Perhaps he was anticipating his father’s arrival.
Still, had things been more explicit, it would’ve been difficult for me to handle, so in that sense, I’m relieved.
From personal experience, I can say that managing multiple partners at once is dangerous without a wide, soft bed. Even without ill intent, things can go wrong. Injuries are common from awkward positioning, and everyone should keep their nails trimmed to avoid scratches. Back then, I was lucky to have Uno around to help me if I got hurt.
It’s unrealistic to expect everyone to act calmly during such situations. For safety, one-on-one is best. Though, with people like Ms. Shirakaba, Tizzy, and Shea-Shea who can use healing magic, the risk is lower. There’s actually a high ratio of healers in my circle.
”How long do you intend to continue this ridiculous game? If you make the women drink the stone, you could turn them into slaves immediately.”
The sharp voice of the Big Castor echoed through the room. He sounded like a completely different person compared to when he had been speaking to the young girl.
”Making them drink the stone” likely referred to that—the skill orb of the subjugation skill. I had some personal history with that myself.
”Father, you’re being rather crude. While binding them with the subjugation skill is simple, such slaves can be bought with enough coin. These girls, however, are daughters of noble households. If I can make them offer both body and soul to me willingly, their worth becomes immeasurable.”
Daughters of noble households?
If you took a good look at the women’s fingers, you’d notice each one had slender, soft hands—without a single crack or callus. These were the hands of someone who had never worked a day in their life.
That might be normal for people in modern Japan, but in this world, only nobles or the absurdly rich had such hands. Even if they weren’t starving thanks to wall barley, most people still had to clean, cook, or do laundry.
In that sense, people here did far more physical work than modern city folks.
So these girls really were proper young ladies. If someone were to kidnap high-born women like these, it would definitely cause a major uproar…
But one possibility came to mind.
Lately, the most beautiful women from Duke Mineley’s lands were being sent as offerings to the dragon Schulz.
After Tizzy mentioned it, I’d gotten curious and dug into it—and yeah, turns out strong families really were losing their daughters.
But Schulz himself denied knowing anything about it. And honestly, he had no reason to lie. That alone made the whole thing smell fishy.
So now, the mystery of the missing beauties was solved. These bastards were the ones behind it all.
And seriously—this was way bigger than smuggling gold. I needed to find solid proof and arrest them.
No—wait. Duke Mineley couldn’t even keep his territory safe. He was a useless ruler.
Well, either way, I needed to start gathering information.
”Your son is the greatest genius in the world. With my own hand, using a perfect balance of fear and pleasure, I will create pawns who smile as they give up their lives. Surely this will serve your ambitions as well, Father?”
”Hmm… since it doesn’t involve magic, countermeasures will be difficult. But if we let them go, won’t they eventually betray us?”
”Then let me show you proof. This is the daughter of that knight, Orlan. How about this—I’ll send her home, kill her parents, and then have her take her own life.”
Little Castor casually grabbed the chin of the tall girl beside him and pulled her close.
The girl clung to the man with a sweet voice. She didn’t seem to be under the effect of a subjugation skill.
It was hard to believe she could genuinely fall for someone who treated her like this—but somehow, this didn’t look like an act.
If no skill or magic was used… was this brainwashing?
Could someone in their right mind really kill their own parents?
I remembered an old special on TV that said hypnosis couldn’t make someone commit suicide.
”Orlan… The world might be better off without him. But assassination is a coward’s method. I don’t get involved in that sort of thing.”
”I understand. This girl will kill her parents with her own hands, and unable to bear the guilt, she will end her own life.”
”He is still a knight. He might even crawl back from death.”
”But if he’s slain by his own daughter, even if he returns, he’ll be broken. He’ll be useless.”
What a monster.
He spoke of such cruel things like it was nothing more than idle gossip.
Knight Orlan… that name sounded familiar.
Maybe the enemy of my enemy could become my ally. I wanted to help him, if I could.
”It may not be elegant, but even lowly creatures have their ways. Fine—do as you like. The only thing that matters is the result. If you want to be acknowledged as my successor, show me what you can achieve.”
For a split second, a flicker of murderous rage passed through Little Castor’s eyes at his father’s sneering words.
Was the old man trying to provoke him? Testing how much he could trust his son, maybe?
I didn’t know what their deal was, but one thing was obvious—this wasn’t a loving father-son bond.
Honestly, I wished they’d just tear each other apart and self-destruct already.
”I’ve wasted too much time on petty matters. Let’s go. The night won’t wait.”
Big Castor raised his voice just enough for his son to hear and turned to leave, his movements impatient and sharp.
He didn’t seem like the kind who could stand waiting for even a moment.
His son still wore a bold smile—but under it, he had to be fuming.
It’d be fun to watch him explode once his father was gone, but I figured I should follow them instead.
I was still worried about the women under Little Castor’s influence, but judging from Big Castor’s words, they were planning something much bigger.
Just what in the world was hidden beneath this mansion?
I’d originally come here to test my abilities—but it looked like this night would drag on much longer than I thought.
Notes:
• Shirakaba – A paladin who seems to be a skilled fighter. He’s introduced as someone with a strong defense and healing abilities.
• Mr. Laken – The Toyata village head and guild branch manager
• Shea-Shea – Mauro’s daughter. Hurt by Alexander. Became an eager fiancée after advice from protagonist.
• Mr. Zenom – Tough dwarf blacksmith from Toyoata Village. Repairs weapons, improves accuracy. Charges 100 gold/arrow. Becomes protagonist’s strict master. Assigns hard tasks like pre-dawn cleaning, firewood, water pumping. Owns well-equipped forge. Challenges protagonist to prove ideas.
• Tizzy – Claims to be Duke’s daughter, a noble with advanced magic skills. MC and Ms. Shirakaba lover.
• Schulz – A male dragon who collects human women and holds the rank of Duke within the Anti-Magic Alliance.
• Knight Orlan – Male. A knight whose daughter has been kidnapped and brainwashed by Little Castor. His appearance and relationship with other characters are not detailed, but he is mentioned as a potential ally against the Castors. His daughter is forced to commit heinous acts, including killing her parents and herself.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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