How to Survive as a Dungeon Manager in Another World

27 – Confirmation (Revised)

Kenneth Rumore, the head of the Rumore baronetcy, news of his ambush by magical beasts on the road home swept through the manor.

Ill-fatedly coinciding with a reorganization of the guard, he had set out with only a skeletal crew, and this proved to be the root of the trouble.

They encountered a monster of grievous class, the carriage was shattered, and the guard was said to be annihilated.

Naturally, the manor folk braced for the worst.

They resigned themselves to the deaths of both the Baron and Baroness who had been riding in the carriage…

“The Baron has returned!”

Contrary to expectations, all had survived.

Astonishingly, they were unharmed, without so much as a scratch.

Even the Baron’s usual litany of minor ailments had vanished completely.

Back in the manor, the Baron and Baroness recounted the events of that day.

“Who in the heavens were they?”

“…I have no clue. I’ve inquired around, and it seems they aren’t affiliated with any of the constellations.”

“And one of them was a beastkin, wasn’t she?”

“Before they left, they said something, I’m sure of it…”

“’By the will of the Great Moon’, they said. I believe, at least.”

They pondered the memory of that day.

Two girls, appearing from nowhere, saving them and vanishing without a trace.

Magic beyond conception that instantly slayed a monster of grievous class, and divine power so overwhelming it could regenerate severed limbs in an instant.

A tale so fantastical it would be difficult even to believe if one hadn’t witnessed it firsthand.

“…We owe them a life debt.”

“Indeed, we do.”

A debt of gratitude for salvation at the very crossroads of life and death.

There existed a desperation, only truly known to those standing before death.

And thus, there was no debt so profound as that of being pulled back from the brink.

Though at the time, I lacked the clarity to detain them, should we cross paths again, I would assuredly offer them a recompense befitting their deed.

And so.

“I shall dispatch people to find them. A hefty commission should unearth some clue, at the very least.”

“A girl travelling with a fox-spirit… an uncommon pairing. Locating them should not prove too arduous.”

At that selfsame moment.

Leaning back against the sofa, I idled away the time, scratching at the crown of my head.

“This is the life.”

The office was always boisterous, largely owing to the concentration of… eccentric… individuals.

Particularly since receiving reinforcements from the Grand Duke, there hadn’t been a single moment of quiet.

With a good thirty souls packed into this cramped space, it was unavoidable, I suppose.

“We really need to expand this office…”

Many personnel meant, plainly, a lack of space.

Beyond simply cramped, some were even taking turns camping out, lacking a proper place to rest.

My modern conscience pricked me; things couldn’t continue like this.

Providing proper lodgings would allow me to exploit them with a clearer conscience, at least.

“Balkan.”

“You called?”

“What are your thoughts on expanding the office?”

He glanced sidelong at me before asking,

“Is this office also the property of the Imperial Family?”

“Aye, we are renting the office, for these five years that we are here.”

“Then, rather than expansion, would it not be better to construct a separate office altogether?”

…Hmm?

A matter to which I hadn’t given much thought.

But listening now, it seemed building anew would be far cleaner than meddling with the existing space.

“Is that feasible?”

“Requesting assistance from the central council should suffice, I believe.”

“…Even the expenses, surely?”

“Of course.”

…At this rate, it was truly a tree that gave without end.

Coming here, forging a bond with the Archduke, perhaps that was the best thing I’d done.

Stepping outside, I surveyed the expanse; space enough and to spare.

I could build wherever my heart desired.

After all, Blackmore was under my jurisdiction; how I used this land was entirely up to me.

It was then.

“…?”

Thud, thud.

Footsteps echoed from the distance.

And they grew closer, ever closer.

Meaning, they were headed this way.

‘The Imperial Family, perhaps?’

But why?

Though they made regular, scheduled visits for inspection, it wasn’t yet that time.

“…”

I furrowed my brow, straining my ears to the sound.

The footfalls became clearer, more distinct.

A moment later, a dark silhouette emerged from beyond the dense thicket.

“Oi, Balkan.”

The one calling Balkan, his voice like metal grinding against metal, was a man with hair as black as pitch.

A muscular man, every inch of his body scarred with old wounds.

His gaze was so fierce, so savage, that meeting it sent a chilling tension coursing through my veins.

Balkan, who had been observing the situation, instantly lowered his head in a sharp bow, the moment he recognized the man.

“…Third Archduke.”

Thanks to that, there was no need to even ask the man’s identity.

The Third Archduke, Kwonseong Kallen.

…The Lord of the Shadowmoon Society, the one who died because of me.

“Hmph.”

He stroked his chin, scrutinizing me from head to toe.

Merely standing before him, I felt an indescribable pressure crushing me down.

Whether he was radiating malice or simply exuding his presence, I, lacking magic, had no way of knowing.

Judging by the darkening pallor on Balkan’s face beside me, whatever it was, it wasn’t exactly a good sign.

“You’re the one, then? The human whelp the Grand Lord spoke of.”

He chuckled, a dismissive sound, and pointed a finger at me.

“Curious.”

He tilted his head, as though struggling to comprehend something.

His gaze swept over me once more.

If that look possessed a physical form, I’d have been pierced through already, such was its baleful intensity.

Then.

“Just a plain human, isn’t he?”

*Whoosh!*

A tearing sound and a gust of wind slammed into me, whipping my hair around my face.

When I came to, his fist was inches from my face.

“…”

Shit.

It was so fast, I couldn’t even react.

Though I’d absorbed the runes, my body was still just that of an ordinary human.

There was no way I could react if a monster who’d ascended to the seat of a Lord unleashed a full-power blow with just one fist.

“You didn’t dodge that?”

He grinned, the corners of his lips lifting.

“Did you know it was coming and just avoid it, or were you too dim to even notice?”

“……”

“Shall we try that again?”

…Again?

I absolutely have to stop him.

If he seriously threw a punch at me, my head would explode.

But how do I stop him?

Should I just kill him?

“I’m not so confident I can restrain myself just enough, you know?”

…Or should I just stop him altogether?

Hmm, that wouldn’t be ideal.

That would only incite his competitive spirit.

Knowing his personality, he’d undoubtedly come rushing at me, demanding a proper fight.

I have to subdue him.

So thoroughly that no foolish thoughts even enter his head, overwhelmingly.

“…”

Lost in these thoughts, I extended my right hand.

Muttering in as low a voice as I could manage:

“You’re saying you’ll verify…?”

I reached out and enveloped the fist that hung before me.

Grasping his clenched hand without a single gap, as if devouring it whole, then murmured the activation phrases.

Acceleration.

Reversal.

And then.

“Who’s verifying whom?”

Reversal.

The moment the activation phrases overlapped,

“!!!”

Kallen’s relaxed expression twisted.

And beautifully so, I might add.

Third Lord Kwonseong Kallen.

He was a monster who had risen to that position solely on the strength of his fists.

Then, intriguing news reached his ears.

That the Amyeong Leader had been killed by some human.

When he first heard the tale, Kallen was seized with an urge to find this human immediately and tear him limb from limb.

But suddenly, the Grand Lord began to shield him.

Even making a fervent plea that no accountability be sought.

It stirred his curiosity.

Just what manner of man was this, that the monstrous woman held such singular interest in him?

So, he sought him out.

When he first faced the man, there was a strangeness to him.

He seemed to possess neither magic nor even a trained physique, yet an oddly unsettling, uneasy feeling arose.

Thus, he sought confirmation.

He delivered a fist with all his might, but…

“….”

The man didn’t so much as flinch.

Was it that he sensed the absence of murderous intent and chose not to respond, or was his ability so paltry that he failed to notice?

A second confirmation was needed.

And so, he intended to imbue his next strike with killing intent, but…

“Seeking confirmation, are you?”

The man muttered something, then reached out, and his hand enveloped his fist.

Then, with a sly smile, he said:

“Who tests whom?”

…That was the end of it.

There was no reaction.

The hand that gripped his fist remained as it was.

The man simply stared back, a smirk playing on his lips.

Irritation began to brew.

So, he tried to pull his fist free, but…

“…?”

His fist would not budge.

No matter how much magic he poured forth, how much strength he summoned, his fist, trapped within the man’s right hand, remained stubbornly still.

Only the sound of creaking bones within his grip echoed, yet the man remained utterly unmoved.

“!!!”

The more he strained, the more intense the pain became.

He felt as though his shoulder socket would be ripped apart if he exerted any further force.

“You b*stard!”

* * *

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

He raised his other fist high, then brought it crashing down on the b*stard’s face.

The mere aftershock unleashed a spine-chilling crack of displaced air; the ground trembled, and the flat earth buckled like a sinkhole.

Surely, that punch had been delivered with all his might, but for some reason, it hadn’t inflicted any damage.

It was almost like striking mithril.

No, even mithril would bear at least a scratch if he struck it with all his force.

Then what in the hell was this man?

Without any movement, any wavering, he simply stood there, staring down at him.

Still wearing that cryptic smile.

“Ugh! Ghugh! This is insane!”

*BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!*

Flailing madly, he struggled with every fiber of his being to wrest free the fist that was trapped.

Skin tore and bone crunched and shifted out of place, but he didn’t even register it.

All pretense of dignity had long been abandoned.

But.

“!!!”

Still.

The man’s eyes, as black as pitch, were fixed on him.

* * *