Chapter 318, The Feather Is Mightier Than the Sword

Translator: Barnnn

Editor: Silavin

 

The recent recruitment advertisement aired by Absolute Helix on the Monitor had stirred the Dorren Workshop into a frenzy unlike anything it had experienced before. The stark, uncompromising notice, drafted under Tsutomu’s direction, made no attempt to hide the harsh working conditions. Yet it also promised generous pay, and that contrast alone was enough to attract a flood of craftsmen disillusioned with their current workplaces.

 

Of course, not everyone who responded was accepted. Many who complained of mistreatment simply lacked the skill to back up their discontent. Others showed up with demo pieces that all but screamed of their underdeveloped expertise. Fortunately, such inadequacies were obvious at a glance, and over half of them were dismissed in the first round of evaluations.

 

Those who passed that initial screening were led into the actual workshop, where they were assigned light tasks. The seasoned ones, those who had worked in other forges, quickly took stock of the equipment and got to work. When the day ended, many of them invited Dorren Workshop’s own artisans out for drinks, already half-integrated into the place.

 

Among them, though, were still the odd hobbyists — those who crafted wooden swords for amusement or brought in mechanical toys of questionable design. Though they often groaned under the workshop’s grueling pace, they clung to the thrill of having their creations praised by real professionals. That fleeting euphoria kept them from quitting before the week-long trial period ended.

 

When that trial concluded, those who still wished to remain were formally welcomed into the Dorren Workshop. And Dorren himself, as if spurred by this expansion, had begun preparing to relocate the entire facility. The move had already been set into motion.

 

“Try this on for now.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Amid the ongoing expansions, the acid-resistant armor they had been developing with the help of external specialists’ assistance was finally complete. Just the day before, they had tested it against Slimes on the ninety-first layer by outfitting Daryl in the gear, and it had held up perfectly. With this, even the Goblin army guarding the Black Gate should pose little trouble.

 

[I made sure we had plenty of prep time. Let’s move fast and build our lead.]

 

Tsutomu wanted a five-layer buffer before any other group progressed past the ninetieth. That would put them safely in the clear. As he inspected the new gear, something he had never once seen in Live Dungeon, he kept one eye on the clock, waiting for Smith to arrive so they could head out to the Monitors together.

 

Tsubomu had been stuck avoiding fans since his team’s victory on the ninetieth layer, keeping interactions businesslike. The resulting lack of excitement had thinned the herd a little, but not enough to do away with the need for House Babenberg’s continued protection. Thankfully, it also meant he did not need to ask any of his Clanmates to escort him.

 

[Okay, tomorrow’s the time to start grinding. So today, I’m going all in on enjoying myself!]

 

Today was to be his long-awaited return to spectating the Monitors, and as such, he’d woken up with excitement practically buzzing in his veins. The viewing schedule: what times, which Monitors, how long to stay at each; had all been drafted in detail the night before. He’d even eaten a light breakfast so he could fully enjoy the food stalls he planned to visit. By now, Tsutomu’s palate had been thoroughly trained to crave only the flavors of street cuisine.

 

Just as he finished inspecting the armor, the Clan House’s doorbell rang. Assuming it was Smith, he glanced at the clock and moved to rise from the couch — when a voice called out behind him.

 

“Tsutomu. Got plans today?”

 

He froze. Of all people, Diniel, who usually never left the Clan House and spent her days lounging indoors like an elegant housecat, was the one who spoke.

 

“…Huh?”

 

Tsutomu’s voice, already caught off guard, slipped into a dumbfounded croak. Had he not made plans, he likely would have jumped at the novelty and hung out with her. But not today. Today was supposed to be his solo expedition through the Monitors and his favorite food stalls. His expression twisted like someone had splashed cold water over his back. Still, he pulled himself together quickly.

 

[…No, no, it’s fine. It’s Diniel. She hates going outside. She’s a professional when it comes to being on break. She’ll understand.]

 

Before, she would’ve withdrawn the moment he said he was heading to the Monitors. But after what happened on the ninetieth layer, she had turned a little more proactive. It was enough that the possibility of her tagging along was not zero.

 

Even so, Diniel wasn’t the sort to tolerate anyone messing with her downtime, and Tsutomu prided himself on being the same. Surely, she would understand his position.

 

And yet, something didn’t sit right.

 

“…?”

 

Diniel’s face was as unreadable as ever, wearing either drowsy indifference or a stony deadpan — but today, there was something subtly different. Just enough to be noticeable. Just enough to unsettle him. This wasn’t a casual inquiry.

 

[…Okay, seriously!? I’ve been planning ahead for this day! How could I have not seen this coming!? Damn it!]

 

He had spent the past several days making sure no one would interfere with today. First, he casually hinted around the Clan House that Sunday would be packed, which took care of the perceptive types like Garm, Daryl, Amy, Korinna, and Xeno. All of them backed off immediately. Even if he had turned any of their invitations down outright, they wouldn’t have kicked up a fuss — but smoother was always better.

 

As for Amira, who had no regard for anyone’s plans, he had arranged to send her home to visit Camille. That left only Leleia, who might deliberately sabotage his schedule just to amuse herself. But by offering Amira up as a distraction, he had easily diverted Leleia’s attention as well.

 

Even Hannah, who would throw a tantrum that could last a lifetime if she didn’t have her way, had been accounted for. With Amy’s help, Tsutomu had arranged for her to have lunch with a famous lingerie merchant. When he proposed it, Amy had looked at Hannah with dead eyes and muttered, ‘You’re both busty, you’ll get along,’ before taking care of the arrangements. That should be enough to keep Hannah busy.

 

Tsutomu had prepared for this day with the same thoroughness he brought to Dungeoneering. Every contingency accounted for, every potential interruption neutralized. And yet, in the final hour, Diniel, an utter wildcard, had appeared out of nowhere.

 

He had no idea what she had planned. In fact, this was the first time she had ever asked him about his plans on her day off. But judging from the unfamiliar look on her face and her recent behavior, he could make a guess: it was something related to the Dungeon. If it had been any other day, he would have leaped at the chance to help. The mere fact that the ever-apathetic Diniel was showing interest in God’s Dungeon would have been cause for celebration.

 

But not today. Today was his day. He had been looking forward to a day of indulgence, of viewing the Monitors to his heart’s content, free from obligation or interruption. This was sacred.

 

“I do have plans today.”

 

“…I see.”

 

Diniel backed off immediately. So immediately, in fact, that Tsutomu’s face twisted with guilt and awkwardness.

 

“So… do you need something, Diniel?”

 

“I wanted to ask about the ninetieth layer. But it’s fine. Clearly your plans are more important. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

 

“……”

 

At her response, Tsutomu quietly buried his face in his hands. So he’d been right. She HAD come to talk about the Dungeon. And those last words… they stung much more than they should have.

 

Since their victory on the ninetieth layer, his opinion of Diniel had taken a hit. In that desperate moment, she had made the choice to give up and nearly gotten him killed in the process. He had been colder to her ever since, even if he had hat realized just how obvious that coldness had been. But apparently, Diniel had noticed.

 

[Korinna’s team’s starting to get snippy lately, too… Maybe I’ve got some things to work on myself.]

 

Everyone had people they liked and disliked but Tsutomu rarely got far enough into relationships for those feelings to even form. His attitude toward Xeno, for example, was more like how he viewed a character in a role-playing game: hilarious, sometimes exasperating, but never personal. He did not grow attached, and he did not take offense.

 

But nearly dying thanks to Diniel’s inaction had shaken him, and he had not fully let go of that resentment, nor could he deny it. And that made the decision he was about to make all the more bitter.

 

“…Technically, I’ll just be watching the Pedestals and eating street food. Wanna come with me, Diniel?”

 

“I’ll come.”

 

Her answer came so fast, he nearly groaned aloud.

 

“…All right. I’ll wait outside.”

 

As he headed for the entrance, Tsutomu could not help the wave of disappointment washing over him. There, waiting with visible irritation, was Smith, foot tapping against the pavement.

 

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

 

“Yeah, sorry. Unexpected tag-along.”

 

“Aha. So that’s why you’ve been clearing people out all week. I suppose now I understand why you’d send me away once you’re at the Pedestals, too… Well, I wish you the best of luck.”

 

“……”

 

“Gyeep!?”

 

Smith’s pointed insinuation earned him a frosty glare from Tsutomu, who, without a word, retrieved a feather duster from his Magic Bag and ran it across the Shield Smith had put up around the Clan House. House Babenberg’s Shield magic was linked directly to its caster’s senses so to Smith himself, it felt no different than being tickled.

 

Apparently, Tsutomu had struck the spot right along Smith’s back. The man let out a startled, awkward squawk. He had trained to endure pain via the Shield link but he had no such resistance to tickling.

 

“D-damn you…! Cut that out!”

 

“C’mon, Smith, my solo Pedestal-watching plans are already ruined. One more snide comment, and I’ll use BOTH hands.”

 

With a deadly glint in his eye, Tsutomu flourished an extra feather duster like a dual-wielding ninja, and Smith stared at him like he was some kind of unhinged monster. Until Diniel arrived, the two stood in the entranceway without exchanging another word, locked in a silent standoff.

 

Then, once the trio was assembled, they set off toward the plaza together.