Chapter 23 The Raid
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
A week had passed since our first dungeon expedition.
My unit, the Imperial Guards, had finally been authorized as an official Dungeon Exploration Squad after completing the Oath of Fealty Ritual.
Up until now, we’d been little more than unlicensed divers sneaking into local dungeons—practically criminals, if we’re being honest.
But from this point on, we were allowed to enter any dungeon within Japan.
Of course, we still needed permission from the regional authorities… but that was just bureaucracy.
Anyway, before we go chasing money and leads to help pay for Maggot’s medical treatment, I should talk about something boring.
And what’s the most boring subject in the world?
That’s right—taxes.
Before thinking about how to make money, I needed to understand how commerce worked in this country, and how much the average man earned.
If I was going to live my whole life as a lazy, good-for-nothing breeder, I needed to grasp some basic common sense.
So I started reviewing the fundamentals.
Here in Chiba Prefecture—better known these days as Kazusa Province—there are two main channels of trade.
The first is the major flow of goods and money.
Every region or settlement is required to pay a tax to the provincial government, either in the form of mystical objects extracted from local dungeons or in cash.
For example, my hometown, Kujukuri, pays most of its tribute in “transforming sand” and similar mystical materials.
The amount is strictly defined. If even a fraction is missing—or if payment is refused—Ichihara, the heart of Kazusa Province, will send raiders to plunder the town.
It’s a one-way relationship.
Paying your taxes doesn’t earn you any compensation—no infrastructure, no disaster relief, no benefits at all.
It’s pure exploitation.
Kazusa Province may sound unified in name, but in reality, it’s just a loose alliance of local warlords.
The mystical objects collected through taxation are either used for Ichihara’s own development, exported to foreign countries, or refined and redistributed within Japan.
The second flow is the regional market.
Technically, Kazusa functions as a single nation, but in practice, Ichihara and the other regions are constantly at odds.
The regions dislike one another, too. Power rules here, and conflicts or uprisings break out all the time.
That’s where local merchants step in—people who build strong ties within their towns and keep trade alive when official routes collapse.
They sell dungeon resources directly to locals or smuggle mystical objects to and from foreign lands.
These semi-legal “blue-sky markets” grew from the old black markets. They rarely pay taxes, but everyone turns a blind eye because they’re run by local folk.
The system works like this:
Someone finds a mystical object.
Hauling it all the way to Ichihara is too much trouble, so they toss it aside.
Later, the item’s gone—but in its place, there’s food or money. Strange, sure, but hey, if something’s lying around, you might as well take it.
As for taxes? Never heard of them.
And so, through that casual logic, a local barter economy thrives.
Technically, all dungeons and mystical objects are state property. Unauthorized trade is forbidden.
But no one actually obeys those laws.
No one’s going to drag their goods to Ichihara and pay taxes voluntarily.
Most ordinary women probably don’t even realize they’re committing crimes.
It’s like foraging wild plants on public land—harmless in their eyes.
As long as each region pays its flat tribute, the province doesn’t care how they earn it.
Now, turning back to the dungeon—our role as men and as Imperial Guards is very clear.
Unlike ordinary women, our duty is to conquer high-difficulty dungeons.
Exploration Squads take on places no normal human could survive—harsh environments, monsters everywhere.
Boiling volcanoes, frozen peaks, deadly caverns—these are death traps for anyone else.
Our job is to make them safe enough for others to enter and harvest resources later.
Everyday mining and bodyguard work against low-level monsters come far down the list.
Clearing even a single dungeon layer is equivalent to birthing an entire new economy.
The whole town celebrates the achievement.
The man responsible gains prestige, higher pay, and a more luxurious life.
It’s a symbol of pride—proof of strength and worth among other men.
Naming a newly discovered mystical object or wearing it proudly becomes a mark of honor.
”My Imperial Guard is this capable—meaning I’m this deserving of love.”
That’s the sort of competition these proud, high-born women have, showing off their husbands and guards like status symbols.
But there’s a catch.
All the objects we retrieve and the progress we make have to go through endless evaluations before they turn into salary.
It takes ages to get paid.
So yeah—honestly? I can’t wait that long.
This sucks. I should just… evade taxes.
”Hey, so… counterfeiting money’s impossible, right?”
”Shh. We shouldn’t discuss that outside.”
”Ah—sorry.”
”No, truly. Never say the words ‘counterfeiting currency’ aloud again.”
Right now, I was on my second dungeon expedition.
I walked through a forest of black and white trees with my companions—Trash and the C*mslut.
The past week had been… complicated.
I’d been scheming to make money illegally for Maggot’s treatment, trying to cozy up to a school staff woman without getting caught, and generally entertaining some pretty dark thoughts.
Trash raised a finger to her lips, a faint smile curving upward.
Her intentions differed from mine, but she too was considering how to misuse her newfound powers.
We often discussed such things during our idle moments.
”Curiosity,” she murmured, “is something you can never quite suppress.”
”Whoa, your fingertips are pitch-black! Are you okay?”
”It seems the currency is forged with anti-counterfeiting Psionic Power. If I’d forced it further, I wouldn’t have survived. The moment I struck the coin after putting it in my pocket—this happened.”
Her fingertips were stained a deep, inky black. It was a gruesome sight.
In this era, the Great Japanese Empire’s unified currency was used across the entire nation, and trading in anything else was strictly forbidden. That made counterfeiting nearly impossible.
I strolled through the black-and-white forest beside Trash, chatting idly.
Her smirk—half playful, half wicked—was oddly charming.
”So the rumor was true. Those who attempt to counterfeit imperial coins aren’t merely punished—they’re destroyed. It’s not that the coins can’t be faked, but that the act itself brings ruin. Terrifying, isn’t it? I nearly died.”
”If you knew that, maybe you shouldn’t have tried,” I said. “Seriously, that’s… concerning.”
”They say seeing once is better than hearing a hundred times.”
”And they also say curiosity killed the cat. I think I’m starting to understand why you’re always covered in fresh scratches.”
She really did love mysteries—an insatiably curious soul.
As we walked, a thought struck me.
”Hey, what about that stork feather we saw the other day—the one that produced water? Couldn’t you make more of those?”
If she could, it would be worth a fortune.
Everyone would want a feather that could pour endless water.
”I doubt it,” she said. “We don’t have the original anymore, and items with such intense mystical power take a long time to replicate. I tested a few smaller objects myself. From what I can tell, I’d need to stay in bed, keep completely still, and store the item in my pocket for months before it duplicates.”
Trash looked genuinely disappointed.
”Right, it drains your stamina when you duplicate things,” I said. “And then you can’t move afterward. So, not impossible—but time-consuming.”
”Exactly. And as for the industrial use you mentioned, Young Master, it’s risky. If I were to die, all replicated items might vanish instantly. No manufacturer would take that chance.”
”Ah, yeah… that’d be a problem. Can’t really have ship parts disappearing mid-voyage.”
”Indeed, Young Master. Still, your idea is wonderful.”
She tapped her pocket with a light pop.
A small bulge appeared there, and she drew out a black candy, handing it to me.
Mmm. Sweet, fragrant, and identical in every way.
So this was the practical limit of her power for now—perfect for duplicating small luxuries and consumables.
I guess it’s not that easy to cheat the world.
Her Psionic Power could duplicate almost any small object, but it wasn’t the kind of overpowered ability that would break reality.
”Makes sense,” I said. “If duplication like that had existed before, the economy would’ve collapsed ages ago.”
I glanced at her darkened fingertips.
Would they ever return to normal?
My eyes drifted to the countless scars marking her body. She seemed fragile—like she could die at any moment, especially the way she delighted in pushing her powers to the limit.
So before she did… I figured I should sleep with her.
Lately, I’d been spending more and more time with Trash, and my self-control was slipping fast.
I’d find some excuse, drag her into bed, and deal with the consequences later.
”Today,” I whispered to myself. “I’ll do it today.”
”…What?”
At the time, my mind was already half broken—ever since Yukari disappeared.
Still, setting that aside, we had our outdoor lesson to complete.
We arrived at the same rest area as before, near the elephant carcass.
”Something’s happening over there,” Trash said, narrowing her eyes.
”You’re right.”
”I’ll go check it out. Please wait here a moment. C*mslut, look after the Young Master.”
”Got it,” C*mslut said lazily.
”Unders-tood,” came the monotone reply.
I waited with C*mslut, who still kept a faint but deliberate distance from me.
After a few minutes, Trash returned, having spoken with several groups of Imperial Guards.
”I don’t wish to worry you, Young Master,” she began softly.
”It’s fine. What’s wrong?”
”It appears someone has gone missing.”
”Missing?”
Trash’s gaze shifted toward the far end of the clearing.
The path beyond curved sharply, swallowed by a thicket of black trees. You couldn’t see far ahead—it must’ve happened somewhere down that road.
That didn’t sound good.
The forest looked so uniform it’d be easy to get lost, but still…
”One Imperial Guard took that route and hasn’t returned since yesterday,” she said. “We suspect an accident. Others from the same region are currently searching.”
”Huh. Maybe they just got turned around?”
”That path is a single straight road. It’s hard to imagine anyone getting lost. But rest assured, Young Master—we’ll ensure the area is safe before escorting you out.”
”So… exploration’s canceled?”
”Unfortunately, yes. Your safety must come first.”
Her tone was unusually firm—rare for Trash.
When she gave a command like that, it meant the day’s dungeon expedition was over.
Looking around, the other students seemed to have reached the same conclusion. Until they found the missing person, the dungeon exploration was suspended. Everyone was preparing to head home immediately.
Technically, we could just walk back to the entrance we’d used to enter—but since each team had come through different doors, splitting up without confirmation would be risky.
Each dungeon floor had multiple entrances and exits.
We’d come in through the Dead Grass Plains, but all around Ichihara there were scattered gates, and some students used those to avoid congestion.
It was like an ant nest with many tunnels.
But humans could only leave through the door they entered—or rather, could only see the door they’d entered from. That was one of the dungeon’s many mysteries.
So, for now, we waited for news.
Once the area was confirmed safe, faculty members would escort each group back to their respective doors.
Safety above all—especially for men.
”Think it’s monsters again?” I asked.
”I understand your concern, Young Master, but no,” Trash said. “In this dungeon, the creatures of the Forest of Mysteries do not reappear once slain. Their appearances follow strict patterns. This is not the kind of dungeon where monsters spawn at random.”
”Really?” I murmured.
”Yes. Every monster here has already been defeated. Only one condition remains that could make new ones appear—but it’s something that can’t be achieved, at least not in theory.”
Trash spoke gently, as if brushing away my unease.
…That wasn’t a flag, right?
Still, she sounded confident enough that I believed her.
After all, I might be living in a carefree, erotic game–like world, but she and the other Guards lived in something closer to a brutal strategy sim—harsh, logical, and unforgiving.
People like them wouldn’t enter a dungeon without doing their homework.
So, no, the missing Imperial Guard probably hadn’t been attacked by some respawned monster.
That theory was out.
Which meant… the cause was still completely unknown.
Two hours passed.
The search party hadn’t returned.
One of the more impatient students finally gave up—apparently, his Imperial Guard had teleportation powers, and they just warped home on their own.
Normally, showing off Psionic Power in public was frowned upon, but he’d clearly reached his limit. It was the kind of desperate move you make when you just can’t stand your master’s whining anymore.
”You shouldn’t display your Psionic Power in front of others unless absolutely necessary,” Trash muttered.
”Yeah… seems like everyone’s struggling,” I said.
”In that regard, you show remarkable restraint, Young Master.”
Was that a compliment? Coming from Trash—the woman who used her power illegally on the regular—it carried an odd weight.
I glanced around.
The air in the rest area felt sharp, tense.
The boys were all frustrated, snapping at their Guards, who were trying to calm them down.
Most boys our age didn’t handle waiting well.
Some tried to storm off, some yelled at their Guards, others just picked fights with classmates.
”Hey… do you hear that? Something weird,” I asked.
”…I don’t hear anything,” Trash replied.
”Maybe not a sound… more like a voice calling?”
Maybe I imagined it.
A high, ringing noise—like a string instrument plucked wrong, or something scraping, shrill and unpleasant.
At first I thought it was just a kid from the lower grades shouting.
”How are you feeling, Young Master?” Trash asked.
”I’m fine. Must’ve been nothing.”
We waited together—Trash beside me, C*mslut standing close behind, watchful as ever.
But patience has its limits.
Eventually, one of the younger boys snapped.
He started screaming, and his Imperial Guard looked helpless. He was seconds away from trying to go home alone, even if it meant disobeying orders.
That kind of standoff between a Guard and her master was dangerous in itself—but maybe unavoidable.
Still, something about that pair drew my attention.
”You’re useless! What good are you?!” the boy shouted.
”I’m sorry,” his Guard said softly. “Things should change soon, please hold on—”
”‘Hold on’? What’s fun about this stupid field trip? It sucks! You call this fun? I should’ve stayed home! You all can just die already!”
He screamed at his Imperial Guards—elegant older women with their robes half undone, revealing flashes of skin beneath.
A strikingly indecent scene, though there was nothing erotic about it.
They looked hurt—genuinely pained by his words—but stayed silent.
I stepped closer.
Mostly out of curiosity… and maybe to admire those older-sister types up close.
They looked incredible—like courtesans from a bygone era, their kimono artfully disheveled.
”Hey, what’s got you so mad?” I asked.
”You—who even are you? I’ve never seen you before.”
”I’m a sixth-year,” I said. “You’re, what, second-year?”
”You’re tiny!”
Rude.
”Anyway, don’t take it out on them,” I said. “Yelling at your Guards won’t fix anything.”
”But they’re useless! And I keep hearing this weird noise—no one else does! I just want to go home!”
”Yeah, I get it. I’m tired too.”
”This sucks. I was actually looking forward to this…”
He looked down, muttering excuses under his breath.
Guess being the same sex helped me defuse him a bit.
”Here,” I said, handing him a candy. “Have one of these. Might cheer you up.”
”What, are you trying to baby me? …Oh. It’s good.”
”Just hang in there a bit longer. The search party should be back soon.”
”…Fine. Whatever.”
He sighed, finally calming down.
The Imperial Guards—the soft, voluptuous older sisters—relaxed visibly, their generous chests rising and falling with relief.
A beautiful sight, honestly.
”You’re a good guy,” the boy said. “Let’s be friends.”
He smiled.
And the next instant, his head exploded.
A sharp, wet bang echoed through the clearing.
A cloud of blood and brain matter hung in the air, glowing in the dim light.
The sound had been loud—like a gunshot.
The boy’s body crumpled to the ground, something pale spilling from the stump of his neck.
It hit with a thud, then a sickening splat.
”…What… what the hell?” I whispered.
”Secure the Young Master!”
Before I could react, a strong woman slammed me to the ground.
Shouts erupted all around—female voices barking orders, chaos breaking loose.
I realized the woman pinning me down was Trash.
Her face was grim, her movements sharp and controlled.
”Hold the Young Master!”
”On it!”
C*mslut took my place, wrapping her huge arms around me.
I couldn’t move—she held me tight, completely immobilized.
My chest was crushed against her, every breath shallow and strained, like being rolled up in a futon.
After ten long seconds, the noise faded.
Only silence remained. There were maybe twenty of us left—and even breathing sounded too loud.
Then came a broken voice, trembling:
”Ah… a-ahh… my young master…”
The boy’s body still twitched faintly on the ground.
One of his older-sister Guards knelt beside him, trembling, calling out to him through tears.
”It’s all right now. You’ll be fine. It’s just a minor injury. I’ll take you to the doctor right away.”
The older woman spoke softly to the boy whose head was gone from the upper jaw upward.
”You’ll be stitched up and good as new soon, I promise.”
She carefully gathered each scattered piece of flesh, wrapping them one by one in a clean white handkerchief.
But the only answer from the boy came as a faint gush of blood pulsing in time with his failing heart.
”Did anyone see what happened?”
”Nothing. No warning signs at all. What the hell was that?”
”Don’t release the Young Master, C*mslut.”
”Obviously not.”
I stayed still, listening to their exchange.
The whole clearing had fallen silent. The Imperial Guards spread out, forming a defensive ring, scanning every shadow—yet they found nothing.
A boy’s head had just exploded in plain view of dozens of people, and there wasn’t a single clue.
After a few minutes, muffled sobs began to echo through the quiet. The boys, shaken and terrified, were crying.
Five minutes passed. Still nothing moved.
The dark forest around the break area remained unchanged.
I couldn’t move, still trapped in C*mslut’s hold.
Finally, the Guards began to gather, whispering hurriedly.
”Standing here won’t help. If no one knows what’s going on, we need to leave the dungeon at once.”
A few immediately protested.
”What are you saying?! A male has been killed! We have to catch whoever did this!”
”It must be someone using a Psionic Power—some kind of explosive ability!”
”Don’t be fools! It’s a dungeon curse, obviously! We’ve triggered a forbidden condition!”
”Forget that! My Young Master—he could be next!”
Soon everyone was shouting over one another, boundaries forgotten.
Behind them, some students sat on the ground, crying quietly, unable to process what they’d seen.
Trash and C*mslut said nothing, standing close to me, keeping guard.
Then one of the Guards from the arguing group turned toward us.
”Come to think of it—you were talking to that boy right before it happened, weren’t you?”
All eyes turned my way—staring, accusing.
Trash immediately stepped between me and their gaze.
”Stop. You will not accuse our Young Master. Why would we have any reason to harm a male?”
”But his head blew up right after you spoke with him!”
”Then it’s the work of a monster—or the dungeon’s curse. We should demand answers from Ichihara’s officials first.”
”Y-yeah… yeah, you’re right!”
The attention shifted toward the staff in charge of the break area.
Good. Suspicion had been deflected, at least for now.
I managed to tilt my head enough to catch C*mslut’s eye.
I couldn’t speak, but I had to tell them something—right now.
”Young Master, sorry. Bear with it,” she murmured, holding me tighter.
I kept meeting her gaze, desperate.
She finally frowned, sensing something off.
”What is it, C*mslut?” Trash asked.
”I think the Young Master’s trying to say something. I’ll loosen the hold.”
I gasped for air the moment she did.
My heart pounded wildly.
It was the first time I’d ever seen someone die right in front of me—my mind was blank, the image burned behind my eyes.
But there was no time to freeze.
Still half-held in C*mslut’s arms, I forced the words out.
”There was a sound. Thinking back, it might’ve been… a call.”
”A sound?” Trash asked.
”The boy mentioned it too—right before it happened.”
”But none of us heard anything.”
”That’s it! Maybe only males can hear it!”
Both of us—me and that boy—had heard the strange high-pitched tone coming from the black forest.
No one else had. That couldn’t be a coincidence.
”It’s happening again! Listen—it’s crying, squealing—like a hinge screeching!”
”Tch… I can’t hear it, C*mslut, can you?”
”No, nothing.”
”It’s coming from over there—the forest. It’s getting louder!”
I pointed toward a shadowed patch among the trees.
All three of us looked.
A group of six people was heading into the forest.
”Is that… the infamous Kamogawa Black Death Butterfly?” Trash whispered.
”Whoa, there are so many butterflies,” I said.
A swarm of black, gleaming butterflies surrounded the group, fluttering in a thick, shimmering cloud.
Not just a few—hundreds, maybe thousands—moving as one dark mass.
”She’s a renowned monster-slayer,” Trash said grimly. “A terrible person, but her Psionic Power is deadly. Anyone touched by those butterflies dies instantly.”
”Even monsters?”
”Yes. Any living thing. That’s how she protects herself—and now she’s probably using them to cover her escape.”
So that was her plan. A walking cheat code.
But she wasn’t taking anyone outside her own region’s students and Guards. The rest of us were left behind.
”They’re abandoning everyone else,” C*mslut muttered. “Think we can follow?”
”No chance,” Trash said. “To them, outsiders are just bait.”
They watched carefully as the group slipped deeper into the forest, the black butterflies shimmering around them.
The call in my ears grew louder, sharper, until it was almost unbearable.
But neither Trash nor C*mslut seemed to hear it.
Then came one final, piercing cry.
”Wait—something’s wrong!” I shouted.
A small, fast-moving shape sliced through the air, threading through the dense swarm of butterflies.
A gust of wind followed, sharp enough to sting my cheeks.
One by one, the butterflies began to fall—tumbling lifelessly to the ground.
When the air finally settled, only two figures remained ahead:
the boy, headless and limp, and his Imperial Guard, gutted open across the stomach.
The targets had been clear—the butterfly user and her master.
The other boy screamed, half-mad, and bolted into the forest, his Guard chasing after him until both vanished.
”Did you see it?” Trash asked quietly.
”Yeah,” C*mslut said. “It slowed down dodging the butterflies. It didn’t strike both at once—killed the master first, then went for the Guard after her power collapsed.”
”Fast… but too small for a bird,” Trash murmured. “Could it have been Maggot?”
”Doesn’t look like it. I couldn’t see clearly, but… maybe a horned owl—or something like it.”
Notes:
• Kazusa Province – A region cited in Chapter 29 dungeon records defining unreturnable dungeons. Serves as a geographic and academic reference for explorers.
• Psionic Power – Mental energy concept in Chapter 35’s lecture. Trash-san teaches it to strengthen the protagonist’s mind after dungeon ordeals.
• Yukari – Dora’s imperial guard, the one who hide in MC’s wardrobe. Twintail.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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