Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in A Dungeon? Vol. 10
Copyright
IS IT WRONG TO TRY TO PICK UP GIRLS IN A DUNGEON?, Volume 10
FUJINO OMORI
Translation by Andrew Gaippe
Cover art by Suzuhito Yasuda
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
DUNGEON NI DEAI WO MOTOMERU NO WA MACHIGATTEIRUDAROUKA vol. 10
Copyright © 2016 Fujino Omori
Illustrations copyright © 2016 Suzuhito Yasuda
All rights reserved.
Original Japanese edition published in 2016 by SB Creative Corp.
This English edition is published by arrangement with SB Creative Corp., Tokyo, in care of Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.
English translation © 2017 by Yen Press, LLC
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Ōmori, Fujino, author. | Yasuda, Suzuhito, illustrator.
Title: Is it wrong to try to pick up girls in a dungeon? / Fujino Omori ; illustrated by Suzuhito Yasuda.
Other titles: Danjon ni deai o motomeru nowa machigatte iru darōka. English.
Description: New York : Yen ON, 2015– | Series: Is it wrong to try to pick up girls in a dungeon? ; 10
Identifiers: LCCN 2015029144 | ISBN 9780316339155 (v. 1 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316340144 (v. 2 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316340151 (v. 3 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316340168 (v. 4 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316314794 (v. 5 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316394161 (v. 6 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316394178 (v. 7 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316394185 (v. 8 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316562645 (v. 9 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316442459 (v. 10 : pbk.)
Subjects: | CYAC: Fantasy. | BISAC: FICTION / Fantasy / General. | FICTION / Science Fiction / Adventure.
Classification: LCC PZ7.1.O54 Du 2015 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2015029144
ISBNs: 978-0-316-44245-9 (paperback) 978-0-316-44246-6 (ebook)
E3-20171115-JV-PC
INTERLUDE
NOTES OF OBSESSION
There once was a man consumed by obsession.
He was wise, accomplished, and a renowned artisan.
His achievements ranged from crafts of every kind to the creation of whole structures. Even after making countless contributions to culture and society, his fixation on receiving praise from the gods and goddesses drove him to complete a massive white tower. Beautiful yet solemn, it reached closer to the heavens than any other building. A monument most befitting the deities, it was conferred the name “Tower of the Gods.”
Indeed, the designer was an undeniable prodigy. No one before or after has ever approached his level of brilliance.
There was nothing he could not build.
The man had no doubt that he was unparalleled.
However, at the far edge of the world, he became entranced by something.
It was the entrance to a massive void found in a corner of the continent. A gateway to another world that opened up under his feet.
He found an underground labyrinth filled with fantastical phosphorescent light, overflowing with flowers and minerals that had never been seen before. Divided into many strata, the various floors changed in appearance the deeper he traveled. It was also an abyss that constantly spawned monsters and seemed to extend downward with no apparent end—this was the Dungeon.
The man beheld this world completely isolated from the surface and perceived it as a “work of art.”
Only a will that surpassed mortal bounds could have crafted this creation. Not long after, the man trained his body and improved his Blessing in order to journey deeper and deeper into the labyrinth.
The more he learned, the more obvious it became.
Its composition, its shape—everything was far too complex for human intelligence to comprehend.
The mystical Dungeon.
It broke him.
He was overwhelmed by the beauty, that ultimate chaos, that seemed to encompass all of existence.
From the broken man’s throat arose a howl, the sound of a monster that had thrown away its humanity.
The man devoted himself exclusively to his craft thereafter.
Although he continued to fulfill the tasks given to him, the man began to stray from rational thought and walk down the wrong path. With every passing day, more and more people found that they could no longer grasp the concepts driving his creations. Once heralded as a genius, he soon became known as a madman. He disappeared between the pages of history soon after.
His own exceptional skill and the strength granted to him by his unique but flawed conviction inspired him to create a world even more magnificent than the underground labyrinth.
—Limits to what man can accomplish? As if I care.
—I’ll create something better, you’ll see.
—If gods are irrelevant to this domain, they must first be outdone.
No matter how much blood he shed, though his skin tore to reveal the flesh beneath, the shovel and pickax in his grasp never lay idle. No one knew that the man persisted on this new path alone.
However, his body gave out long before his ambition could be realized.
One man could live for only so long.
He cursed his mortal flesh and fell into despair as his limbs refused to obey his commands. He lamented his faltering, flickering life. Then he left behind a curse—words that would allow him to overcome these limitations—in a notebook.
Along with the “blueprints” that filled his mind.
The man left everything to those yet to be born, his successors who would carry his name and legacy into the future.
Build, you will build!
Build a creation to outdo it, build your desire!!
This is your purpose!! You are my descendant, though I know not your name or face!
Should your eyes pass over this notebook, there shall be no escape from the blood filling your veins!
The mad hunger and insatiable thirst will never fade! The fire burning in your belly can only heed my call!!
Carry out my desire!
Obey your blood, remain loyal to the yearning.
Stay true to what we long for!
Ambition, ambition, ambition!!
Fulfill the aims of our cursed existence!!
It was all written in the notebook.
The man’s persistence was clearly spelled out.
“……”
Dix leaned against the back of a sofa as he held the tattered old notes in one hand, rea
ding silently to himself.
He turned a page, the ink upon it faded and smudged to the point of illegibility in places, beneath the magic-stone lamplight as a voice called out to him from behind:
“Dix, everything’s ready.”
A large man appeared as Dix lowered the goggles strapped over his forehead. The smoky-quartz lenses covered his eyes as his lips curled into a sneer.
“Great, let’s get to it.”
Rising to his feet, Dix tossed the old notebook onto the sofa without a second thought. He grabbed an ominous spear propped up against the wall before following his hulking companion down a hallway shrouded in darkness.
The air smelled of stone and felt chilly, as though it had never known the warmth of the sun’s rays. Dix smiled to himself as black iron bars and cages came into view before whispering under his breath.
“‘Stay true to what we long for’…Well said.”
Rattle, rattle. Chains shook fearfully from every direction.
The vile hunter listened with glee, laughing from deep in his throat.
CHAPTER 6
BEFORE THE STORM
A bright light rouses me out of my light sleep, drawing my consciousness awake.
Feeling the morning sunlight, I open my eyes.
Familiar sights fill my blurry field of view: crystals that I couldn’t bring myself to sell and a jar of fruit seeds, a desk and chair adorned with various things taken from the Dungeon, a few books and an exhausted grimoire on a wooden shelf, a half-open remodeled closet storing weapons and armor.
This is my room.
My personal space inside Hestia Familia’s home.
“……”
Not only did I skip my usual morning training, but according to the clock on the wall it’s almost time for breakfast.
As I begin to rise, the rest of the bed comes into view. I look at the spot beside me.
Nothing. No one is there.
Just a hollow, empty feeling and wrinkled white sheets.
I’m looking for a girl who’s no longer here. I turn away and get up.
After changing out of my sleepwear, I head out the door. The hallway is jarringly silent. No matter how many times I look out the windows over the central garden, I don’t hear that playful voice. Has our home always been this quiet?
The warm sunlight slanting in through the windows leaves no doubt in my mind that summer has arrived as I make my way from the third floor down to the first.
“Morning…”
The rest of the familia is there to greet me in the dining room.
“Yo.”
“Good morning.”
Welf and Lilly smile as I make my late entrance. I have a feeling they’re trying to be cheerful for my sake.
Mikoto and Haruhime in her maid outfit notice me as well. “Good morning,” they say with heavy smiles.
A fragrant aroma is wafting in from the kitchen. Mikoto probably made her Far East–style fried eggs this morning.
I think to myself that they probably taste sweet as a feeling of déjà vu hits me.
“It’s unusual for you to sleep in.”
“Sorry…”
“Mr. Welf isn’t blaming you. Breakfast is almost ready, so please wait a few moments, Mr. Bell.”
“Okay…Um, where’s our goddess?”
“Lady Hestia said she had an errand to attend to before going to her part-time job, so she left early this morning, Sir Bell.”
“Yes, and she was stuffing Jyaga Maru Kun into her mouth as fast as she could…”
Welf, Lilly, Mikoto, and Haruhime are all talking like nothing’s changed…but something is different. Like gears that aren’t lining up right…as though one part is missing, leaving the rest spinning around uselessly.
Everyone’s a bit off.
Hardly any conversation is going on. It’s bright and sunny outside, but the mood doesn’t match that at all.
Everyone looks lost, or maybe just absentminded as they prepare for breakfast.
Haruhime has it the worst.
Instead of her usual radiance and cheer, she’s filled with gloom, and her fox ears and thick tail hang limply.
Her eyes twinge with worry as she works her way around the table, setting out plates.
“…Lady Haruhime.”
“Ah…What is it, Miss Mikoto?”
“There’s, just, one too many plates…”
Mikoto grimaces as she points it out. Haruhime’s shoulders jump when she notices.
“M-my apologies!” She quickly clears the extra set.
She had absentmindedly put it where a girl had always sat until just a little while ago.
A girl who always wore an innocent, pure smile…a vouivre girl.
Lilly, Welf, and I saw it happen but couldn’t say a word.
“Let’s eat…”
Everyone takes a seat at the table.
Once the meal begins, only the sounds of forks on plates and quiet chewing fill the air.
Two days have passed since the Guild issued a secret mission for us.
The events that took place in an unexplored frontier region on the twentieth floor of the Dungeon—in a Xenos Hidden Village—left a dark cloud over Hestia Familia.
Xenos. Monsters who can talk.
They possess a great deal of intelligence and self-awareness, despite being beasts, and are shunned by both people and the average monster.
A black-robed mage called Fels—who claims to be the shadow of the Sage—said that the Xenos all share a desire to walk on the surface and interact with people. This incredibly difficult goal uniting them originates from their dreams of their own past lives, dreams they all have.
Shocking was not enough to describe this string of revelations.
There were so many that it almost seemed better to give up on thinking at all.
But right now, the real reason that we’re brooding so much is…much simpler.
Our parting from Wiene.
For a time we sheltered and protected the young vouivre girl, but in the end we entrusted her to her fellow Xenos. Despite their wishes, there’s currently no place for monsters on the surface. In the past, the people had claimed this realm for themselves by seizing land from monsters. The two could never coexist.
Before we lost everything, there was no choice but to go our separate ways, for Wiene’s own safety.
In fact, Fels also said that there are hunters lurking in Orario who will stop at nothing to capture a Xenos. I already told Fels about the god Ikelos and how he sought me out to ask about a talking vouivre. Apparently there’s nothing we can do about it now.
We feel powerless, so lost and lonely it’s like a part of us is missing.
Those emotions are refusing to let go.
“……”
I’m not really surprised that conversation never picked up. Welf and Lilly did their best to find a topic, but nothing really stuck.
It’s been like this ever since we finished the mission and returned from the Dungeon early yesterday morning.
My heart cringes every time I remember the look on her face at the end, tears running down her cheeks.
Looking up, I notice that Welf and the others are staring at the open spot next to me…where Wiene once sat.
It’s empty.
It feels like a dream that someone so full of life was there not long ago.
Everyone’s looking for her, not just me.
It’s hard to believe that the absence of one girl could leave all of us so downtrodden—Haruhime, Mikoto, Welf, and even Lilly.
Though amid the sadness…there is a silver lining. We know the moments where we felt like a family weren’t a lie.
Even if that girl was a monster, different from people like us.
“…Bell?”
I’m on my way out of the dining room after breakfast when Welf calls my name.
“I think I’ll…go to the Dungeon for a bit.” I pause for a moment to answer.
Glancing over my shoulder, not on
ly Welf but Lilly, Mikoto, and Haruhime all look at me with concern.
I put on my most reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine. I’m planning on coming back right away.”
There’s something I need to know.
If I’m going to continue being an adventurer in Orario…I can’t keep on without confirming something.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes…”
I answer as calmly as I can before opening the door and exiting the dining room. I make a quick stop at my room to grab equipment before I leave our home in Hearthstone Manor.
“……”
There isn’t a single cloud in the sunny blue sky.
The perfectly aligned paving stones of the street sparkle in the sun’s rays. The warm path is the only thing I see as I trudge through the street, head downcast. I don’t notice the rest for a while.
Sounds of horse-drawn taxis. Townspeople going about their business. The noises that fill the city every day are still here, unchanged.
Yet I make no sound as muscle memory leads me along the route to the white tower stretching toward the heavens: Babel.
“Bell.”
“Oh…Syr.”
A voice breaks through the din as I travel down West Main Street.
Tap, tap. Seeing me pass by, Syr comes down the steps from The Benevolent Mistress’s front entrance and approaches.
“Good morning. I made a lunch for you again today, so if you’d like…Bell?”
Syr holds up a basket full of food with a big smile on her face, but her words trail off as she leans in for a closer look at my face.
Her eyebrows arch in concern; her silver hair swishes around her shoulders.
“Did…something happen? You look really pale…”
“…!”
Either Syr is amazing at reading people, or my thoughts have made themselves too obvious on my face.
Whichever it is, I have to reassure her right away so she doesn’t worry.
“No, I’m fine. Just overslept a little this morning…”
“…I…see.”
“And, well, I won’t be spending much time in the Dungeon today. So, about the lunch…Um, sorry.”
I can’t accept this basket. Doing something else pathetic would only make her worry more. Thinking this, I promptly refuse today’s offer of lunch.