Chapter 102 Petty Feelings
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”I’m home.”
”Welcome back. You’re late again. Did something happen? You look awful.”
”Flatty-chan… I can’t take this right now. Sorry.”
”Eh? N-no, I didn’t mean your face looks bad, I just—”
I threw my arms around her. For a heartbeat, she froze, then awkwardly wrapped her rigid arms around me. Her chest was hard, her embrace mechanical, yet steady enough for me to breathe.
”F-fahyuh!? What’s wrong? Are you hurt somewhere? Young Master, if you’re like this—wait, don’t tell me he’s dead—ugh!”
I smacked her chest lightly and shook my head. The dull sound that came out was like a drum covered in leather.
The curly-haired scout died without warning. No last words, and no heroic stand. Just gone. We’d barely started to get along. The other two—also gone.
I have to get used to it. I have to. They died doing their jobs.
So I’ll do mine too.
”Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m fine now.”
”S-sso that’s good… desu.”
I told Flatty-chan what I’d learned from the others. We traded notes briefly. Some structure in this floor resembled other dungeons, though there were peculiarities of its own.
One soldier had said the monsters here reproduce differently. He’d compared it to the Maggot dens near Meguro Town—’Meguro’s Garden of Maggots’—where creatures bred inside human hosts.
The blue Maggot parasites infest human bodies. They eat the brain for nourishment, then hatch countless butterflies from what’s left. Each butterfly carries the infection onward.
The human pupae retain fragments of their former memories—not true minds, just reflexes to imitate their old selves. They smile, speak, even mimic conversation, all to lure others closer. The dungeon’s illusions fill the gaps, wrapping the act in a convincing haze.
Anything with a brain can become bait. The Maggots will use it, alive or dead, reshaping it into a perfect copy. Like millipedes feeding on fallen leaves, they recycle the world’s remains.
That’s why the dead rise again. That’s why human beings are reborn as butterflies—but inside, they’ve melted away, reborn as something entirely different. They parade a happy life, inviting new hosts to join the feast.
Flatty-chan listened quietly, her face drawn tight.
”It’s a monster that integrates human beings into its life cycle,” she said. “The butterflies lay eggs in human heads, consume the inside, and when the larvae mature, they emerge as swarms. The empty bodies mimic the dead to lure in more victims.”
”A parasitic Maggot, then. Humans are its hosts.”
”Exactly. I hate to admit it, but it’s perfectly adapted to this dungeon. Monsters can’t pass through doors, so when a lucky explorer escapes, the illusion urges them to bring someone back.”
She grimaced. “Among monsters, this one is… particularly vile.”
I listened, hollow inside. The thought of parasitic wasps came to mind—how they turn prey into obedient shells. Humanity itself had become bait for its own downfall.
Dozens of villages dotted the hills ahead. Over three thousand people lived among them, but how many were still truly alive?
We reached our destination soon after—a hill with a small hut, supposedly the rescue point.
”What’s the situation?” I asked.
”Give me a second. Checking now.”
Around the hut stood countless human cocoons—motionless, waiting. Before we even approached, the monsters had already begun searching. Dozens of them swept across the valley below, torches burning with that sharp, resinous stench. Some of them might still be human, believing their missing men had simply wandered off.
”Almost all are monsters,” Flatty-chan said softly. “A few are still untouched, but butterflies cling to their hair. It’s only a matter of time.”
”Thanks… then the town’s finished.”
Under her breath, she muttered words not meant for me. “Damn it. Do those creatures actually sense something? If only we could use that… thing, maybe help would come.”
”Maybe it’s not over yet,” I said.
She flinched, realizing I’d heard her, and frowned. “Wait—don’t tell me the hut’s fake too?”
I nodded.
Far off, the so-called hut barely stood upright—half-collapsed, walls of tarp and animal hide nailed to steel pipes. A poor imitation, built by something that didn’t understand purpose.
Even if it mimicked the shape, it couldn’t function. It was just another illusion.
”If I disguise myself again, maybe I could get close,” Flatty-chan murmured. “But if they recognize me, we’re done for. I can’t win if I’m surrounded.”
She spoke barely above a whisper, lost in thought. Even she had limits. Repairing the hut, protecting me, and surviving a swarm of human cocoons was impossible. Noise would draw more monsters, and even at triple human strength, she’d be crushed.
Arrival wasn’t the end.
”Flatty-chan, let’s rest for a bit.”
”No. I’m fine. We don’t have time. I’ll figure something out… I swear it.”
Her movements were slowing again, her systems faltering. But it just exhaustion written across her pale face.
We had come all this way for nothing.
While we stood there, the distant hills flickered with new torchlight. The searchers were multiplying.
”Those people,” I whispered, “are they the ones who shared dinner with us?”
Flatty-chan followed my gaze. Across the valley, the group that once welcomed us with smiles was climbing the hill. Hundreds of them, most no longer human.
Only the old women who burned peppermint oil to drive the Maggots away remained, along with a handful of reclusive misanthropes who refused to eat the local food and kept smoke fires burning day and night. The rest—all of them—were gone. Dead. After all their struggle to escape, it had taken only a few days for everything to collapse.
I felt my mind start to crack. No—don’t think. Don’t think at all. If I did, I might not come back.
”That witch said these butterflies don’t have larvae,” Flatty-chan murmured. “But in truth…”
”They were there all along—just unseen,” I said.
She nodded. “Yes. We were too quick to believe what we wanted to. Maybe that’s the way in Isumi Town—don’t question what keeps you calm.”
Without resistance to illusion, no one could notice the Maggots’ work. Even if a neighbor was replaced, no one would scream. No one would even see.
”At this rate,” I whispered, “how many around that witch have already turned?”
Flatty-chan accepted it faster than I could. She simply thought, while I tried not to fall apart.
Himawari should still be fighting on the second floor with the rescue squad. She was always surrounded by laughter—those Imperial Guards her age adored her. She looked so happy among them. They adored her because she gave them something to adore.
The human cocoons here, too, had learned to play at affection—feeding on memory, performing as our ideal companions.
Did she notice? I doubted it. I couldn’t believe she had escaped infection. Why her? Why had she, of all people, become the monsters’ favored pawn?
”Do you think Himawari knows any of this?” I asked. “She was so careful before—always avoiding traps. But for the whole town to be fooled…?”
If she’d been deceived, what would she do when she came back and saw the truth? I couldn’t imagine it.
Flatty-chan’s answer came cool and thin. “There are dungeons where humans and monsters cooperate, but I doubt she knows. There’s no reason to sacrifice her own town. It isn’t logical.”
She laid out her logic like a lesson. “Even with Psionic Power, that woman isn’t a true explorer. The town’s officials never listen to their own people—they chase profit in every shadow, ignore every warning. They think intelligence replaces trust. It doesn’t.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “Rulers tear down shrines to build homes. They say progress demands it. But some rivers shouldn’t be built beside.”
Then, more sharply: “It doesn’t matter. We just need to escape.”
Her tone cut through the haze. “If she really fed those monsters herself, that’s her fault. Maybe we could even use her to make them fight each other.”
Flatty-chan despised nobles, and by extension, Himawari and her people. She severed them from her concern without hesitation.
If I were in Himawari’s place, what would I do? The truth of this floor—the realization that we’d been living among hollow shells—was almost unbearable. Just the thought of being tricked that way made my spine go cold.
For an instant, I saw Himawari’s smile, that bright, careless grin when I’d praised her work. “It’ll be fine! We’ll handle it somehow!” she had said, laughing.
Flatty-chan touched my shoulder gently. “No matter what happens, I’ll get you back to the surface, Young Master. If the hut won’t work, then we’ll build our own.”
She forced a smile, hiding the pallor beneath. I nodded. Panic would only waste what little time we had.
The hut was simple enough—barely sturdier than flat-packed furniture. She could assemble one in ten minutes, if only we had the materials.
That was the problem. There was nothing left here but dust and illusion.
”Maybe we can find supplies,” I suggested. “An old village, or that cabin we passed at noon.”
Wood was scarce. The entire floor felt abandoned, stripped bare. Psionic Power could shape matter, but not conjure it. Stone or metal might do—if any still existed.
The illusion faded near our feet, revealing a flimsy rubber-like mat laid over cracked concrete. Useless. Here and there, fragments of rusted scrap metal crumbled at a touch.
”Climbing back up is risky,” Flatty-chan said. “We’d lose them for a while, but they’d track us again. Let’s find an empty house first.”
We started walking slowly and quietly.
Time turned into an enemy. My teeth ached, my stomach knotted. My Psionic Power would last maybe another hour; after that, I’d collapse, blind to who was human and who was not.
We could barely move faster than a stagger.
”Flatty-chan,” I asked softly, “you’re breathing hard. Is it the wound again? Or the numbness?”
”No need for concern, Young Master. I’m fine. Truly.”
It was all she would say.
Keeping her conscious meant staying close—pressing my body against hers. Absurd, but it worked. Male energy affected her systems, jump-starting her circuits. Still, we couldn’t rely on it for long.
We needed to escape before her strength failed.
After what felt like hours, we reached a small settlement. My earlier diversion had thinned the patrols, giving us a fragile window.
I scanned the buildings with Psionic Power.
”There’s some wood,” I said. “But not enough to rebuild properly.”
”I see,” she murmured.
The homes of Isumi’s townsfolk stood small and shabby, a hollow echo of what they once were.
Most of the houses were hardened mud over scraps of wood and rust. There’d never been enough resources to bring proper materials from the surface. Still, corrugated metal glimmered here and there, and from the shadows I could see traces of furniture inside.
We lay hidden nearby, watching for a chance.
Even in this desolation, dozens of figures lingered in the village—people, or what had once been. If they saw us, we’d be torn apart. Sneaking in to strip boards and beams quietly enough to build a hut was impossible.
”Too risky,” I whispered. “If they notice, the rest will come running.”
”I’ll try anyway,” Flatty-chan said. “Please wait here, Young Master.”
”Flatty—”
”Shhh. Don’t move. Even if you hear me scream, don’t come.”
And with that, she ran toward the cluster of homes.
A few seconds later, distant shrieks split the dark. My hands clenched. I kept my promise, whispering silent prayers.
Minutes crawled by before she returned, drenched in blood and fluid, her breath shaking.
”I’m sorry. I couldn’t do it.”
”I was terrified,” I said. “The noise drew them. We need to leave.”
She nodded. “Yes. No mystical objects either. Just… bodies.”
Of course it hadn’t worked. The cocoons never let down their guard. If even the village was this hostile, the dungeon gate to the second floor—the real exit—would be far worse.
We were trapped.
I told her the plan I’d been keeping to myself. A theory about this floor’s illusion, about a central source that might be destroyed. Something I’d learned from other dungeons—and from Trash-san, the odd mechanic who never stopped talking. If we could reach that core, maybe we could break the spell, maybe escape.
Flatty-chan lay beside me on the ground, thinking in silence.
”That could be true,” she said at last. “Each monster doesn’t cast the illusion. It comes from a single point. Your reasoning fits.”
Relief passed through me. “So I wasn’t wrong.”
”You were clever to connect that,” she said softly. “All from your talks with him?”
I nodded. “In Kujukuri Town’s first floor, we stopped the mechanical monsters through the control room. I think this place has one too.”
We agreed to find it. If we were right, there’d be building materials there—and a way out.
”I’d go alone if I could,” she said. “You’d be safer.”
”Could you manage it by yourself?”
She shook her head. “No. Even if it’s illusion, the margin of error is too small. I can’t risk it.”
”It’s rough for me too,” I admitted. “But this job needs a man’s touch. You can’t do it.”
Her expression froze, horror crawling into her eyes. It wasn’t shyness or embarrassment—just pure fear.
Night deepened as we trudged onward, slow as dying turtles. The one place no one approached was a small forest at the floor’s center. Only male residents and select guards had ever entered. If the rules still held, that was where the illusion’s heart lay.
Maybe that was why we dared to go there.
Inside, elegant furniture stood beneath twisted trees—tables, wardrobes, imported wood polished to false shine. The only true relics from the surface. I recognized some; they matched what I’d once used at home.
Tall chests could be dismantled into panels for the hut. And if anyone caught us, we’d trigger the core and destroy everything.
That was our last plan.
But like everything else, it didn’t go smoothly.
Hope makes you careless. Looking upward, I missed the ground beneath me.
”Whoa—”
”Wait! Are you okay?”
”Ah… no. I messed up. Really messed up.”
Flatty-chan had fallen. Not fate, not enemy attack—just exhaustion. She’d lost balance while holding my hand and couldn’t break her fall.
Her head struck the ground hard—right on the damaged side.
The bandage fused to her skin had gone dark with leaking fluid.
She stared up at the sky, voice faint. “So this is it for me, huh.”
Her breathing came shallow and uneven.
Tears stung my eyes as I clung to her. She had twisted mid-fall to shield me and landed wrong.
”I can’t move,” she whispered. “Nerves are shot—or something. I’m numb.”
”You can’t stand?”
”No. It doesn’t even hurt anymore. I can’t move a finger. Useless woman, aren’t I?”
A single tear slipped from her eye, sliding down her cheek into the dirt. Her face had gone slack—expressionless, the body a broken shell, only her eyes and mouth still alive.
I’d never seen her look so human.
”Don’t cry, you idiot,” Flatty-chan muttered. “Get Young Master out. Think… think, damn it…”
She drifted between waking and blackout, mumbling to herself, forcing her mind to stay lit. It was like watching the last spark inside a dying human—desperate, and protective. Like a mother cat shielding her kitten from the rain. I realized I was the kitten.
”Do you still have the peppermint oil?” she whispered.
”A little. Enough.”
”That’ll keep the Maggots off. Once you reach the second floor, they can’t follow.” She breathed deep. “Then we surrender. Pour it over your head and let one of the sane ones guide you to the gate.”
”You mean find someone still human?”
”Yes. Anyone untouched will obey a male’s command.”
Not everyone had turned. A few still fought the infection; if I could find them, maybe they’d listen. It was a desperate plan—her final gamble.
”When you pass through the gate,” she said, “tell everything. Whether it’s Kujukuri’s people or Isumi’s, they’ll protect you. They must.”
”And you?”
She hesitated. “That… doesn’t matter—” then forced a laugh. “No, I’ll make a distraction. I’ll draw the monsters off while you escape.”
She tested her throat, taking a shaky breath. “I can still shout. They’ll come if I scream. While they do, sneak out, just like I said.”
”Are you scared?”
”What are you talking about?” Her voice trembled. She couldn’t hide it.
If left here, she’d never see morning. Paralyzed, she’d be devoured alive by the cocoons.
”It’s fine,” she lied. “Don’t worry. Flatty-chan’s a genius.”
She was trembling, the brave mask cracking. “I can’t synthesize living things, but my own body’s an exception. I’ll merge with the fakes around me—maybe I’ll move again. Probably I’ll just become a lump of meat, but who knows?”
Her eyes half-closed, and she smiled faintly. “Then I’ll roll downhill like a huge ball and crush that witch. Cute genius Flatty-chan saves the day.”
I couldn’t help it. “You’re insane.”
”An honor to serve you, Young Master,” she murmured. “Sorry for being such a useless guard.”
I bent down and kissed her.
”Don’t push yourself,” I whispered. “I’m not leaving you again.”
Color rushed into her cheeks. The motionless mask flushed apple-red; she tried to twist away, but her body refused to move.
”You look like a girl who just had her first kiss,” I said softly.
She stammered. “B-but… but…”
In that instant, her tears changed meaning—from grief to something luminous.
”Please,” she said, voice trembling. “You have to understand—you’re precious. Someone like me is common.”
”Flatty-chan, there’s no one like you. You’re unique—funny, brave, beautiful.”
Clear tears slid down her face like morning dew. Keeping them from turning back into sorrow was my task now.
”I’m so happy,” she breathed. “Too happy, maybe.”
She wasn’t giving up. She still remembered the Imperial Guards who depended on us. “You worrying about me like this—no story ever writes that,” she said.
”Maybe not,” I answered, “but in my world, that’s what men are supposed to do.”
I wiped her tears away. I still wanted to save her—to reach the core together—but we both knew time was thin.
Still, I had a plan. I’d explored too many dungeons to die here. I hated this cycle of running, and this time I had the key.
The only problem was getting there.
Then she gasped. “Ah—um… this is awkward, but… I can move again.”
She pushed herself up like a rusted doll, elbows trembling, holding her weight.
I stared. “Really? That’s incredible! But how?”
”No idea,” she said, touching her lips with trembling fingers, cheeks glowing. “Maybe my body just… got shocked.”
I checked her with Psionic Power—it has no parasite, and no illusion. Genuine recovery.
”Could this be… the power of loyalty?” she teased weakly. “The famous bond between master and servant… fufu…”
”Then when we get home,” I said, smiling, “we’ll try more lewd acts.”
Her eyes widened. “We can?!”
She shot upright in surprise—then winced. “Ouch!”
”Hey! Don’t push yourself!”
She clutched her head. “G-gaaah… my head’s splitting…”
The pain was back. But it was a proof she was alive.
Notes:
• Himawari – A one-eyed black oni girl/aberration-type psionic; town leader/face; asks for promotion help; apologizes for killings; sets 2‑day deadline.
• Psionic Power – Mental energy concept in Chapter 35’s lecture. Trash-san teaches it to strengthen the protagonist’s mind after dungeon ordeals.
Please bookmark this series and rate ☆☆☆☆☆ on here!
Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
Leave a Reply