I sat at my PC, scouring online news and forums to gauge how society had shifted since the appearance of the dungeons.
A month had passed since the Government Broadcast. While the world remained bewildered by these unknown entities, nations were busy navigating the situation through a grueling process of trial and error. Of course, perfect countermeasures were impossible to implement so quickly.
"Man... talk about an uphill battle."
The news was grim. Ever since an overseas team had been wiped out early on, reports of research teams meeting similar fates across the globe had become a daily occurrence. The primary reason was the utter ineffectiveness of the firearms carried by the escorts. While guns worked against the monsters on the first and second floors, their effectiveness dropped to zero as the teams descended deeper.
The classic example was the slime. Bullets fired by guards simply became lodged in the creature's gelatinous surface, failing to reach the core. The slimes would then counterattack, leaving only a handful of survivors to limp back to the surface.
"I can take down a slime just by sprinkling salt on it... I guess those research teams were blinded by the assumption that guns solve everything, which probably delayed their response. Or maybe the slimes had physical nullification or physical mitigation skills?"
In response to the bullet failures, the second wave of researchers had tried flamethrowers to combat the slimes. However, using fire in the enclosed space of a dungeon proved disastrous. By the time the slimes were finally incinerated, the researchers were collapsing from oxygen deprivation. Currently, the mainstream tactic was to freeze the slimes with small amounts of liquid nitrogen and then shatter their cores.
What a high-cost, high-risk method. They really have my sympathy.
"And of course, this had to happen."
I let out a heavy sigh as I skimmed the next headline.
The government had restricted civilians from entering unconfirmed dungeons, but naturally, some people had ignored the warnings, only to be slaughtered by monsters. Now, the opposition parties were raising a ruckus in the Diet, attacking the ruling party and claiming the state was responsible for the deaths of those trespassers.
Don't they have anything better to debate? I suppose if a civilian died after breaking into a dungeon that the Self-Defense Forces had cordoned off, you could argue some level of state responsibility. But what about cases where someone intentionally failed to report a dungeon and trespassed entirely of their own volition? There’s plenty of room for debate, but logically, that should fall under personal responsibility.
"Still, I doubt this will lead to people demanding we fill the dungeons in and seal them off for good."
Despite the body count, defeating dungeon monsters provided drop items. These ranged from equipment like swords and shields to minerals, various medicines like recovery potions, and even skill scrolls that granted supernatural abilities.
Nations that had successfully recovered these items were now throwing everything they had into dungeon conquest. From unknown mineral and biological materials to recovery potions capable of regenerating lost limbs—the direct benefits were staggering, but the potential for massive future interests was even greater.
Above all, there was no way any government could ignore the power provided by skill scrolls.
"Magic, huh? It’s definitely a word that captures the imagination."
By using a skill scroll, a person could obtain a skill they were compatible with. Once nations realized this, the scramble for dungeon drops—especially skill scrolls—became a frenzy.
However, many countries that tried to brute-force the dungeons using human-wave tactics with their national armies suffered catastrophic failure, resulting in massive casualties.
"And so, our country—which was slow to move as usual due to political red tape—avoided the initial bloodbath. Instead, they analyzed the failures of other nations, launched their own conquest, and now they're actually making steady progress. I guess there are quite a few officials with 'gamer brains' among the bureaucrats."
Facing the failures seen abroad, Japan had established a Verification Committee composed of game creators and SF writers. After days of heated debate, they had reached a conclusion: firearms were useless in the dungeon.
The primary piece of evidence was the changes observed in the equipment of the Self-Defense Forces personnel. When the gear of soldiers who had defeated monsters was scientifically examined, the durability of their clothing and body armor had slightly improved. Intrigued, the committee conducted athletic performance tests on the soldiers and confirmed that their physical abilities had also marginally increased.
From this, the committee speculated that defeating monsters inside a dungeon allowed both the individual and their equipment to level up. This was proven true during a verification dive. Working from that theory, they deduced that while the firearms themselves might be strengthened, the effect did not extend to the consumable bullets, explaining why they failed against monsters.
"Well, in reality, it's more accurate to say that anyone who defeats a monster is granted the concept of a 'level' and outfitted with an Invisible Powered Suit, or IPS... but you wouldn't know that without an analysis skill."
I had figured that out thanks to my Appraisal Analysis skill, but the committee hadn't quite grasped that specific detail yet.
The IPS is a type of force field that envelops the subject. Its performance scales with the user's level; at high levels, it grants power that defies common sense, like absurd durability or physical strength that doesn't match one's muscle mass. Furthermore, by integrating "applications" called skills—obtained from skill scrolls—into the IPS, one can manifest powers akin to psychokinesis or magic, provided they have the EP to fuel them.
In status terms, HP represents the durability of the IPS, while EP is the energy required to activate skills. If HP hits zero, the IPS shuts down, and until it reboots, the user loses all assist functions and is left completely exposed. If EP runs out, the skills fail to function, and the IPS becomes nothing more than a set of very sturdy armor.
"Well, there's plenty more to it than that, but I suppose they'll manage even if they don't know the specifics."
As a result, the SDF's elite were now challenging the dungeons armed primarily with melee weapons like katanas and daggers forged from super-hard alloys. Since it was actually working, I guess the blood of the samurai still ran thick in Japanese veins.
"And currently, Japan is leading the pack in dungeon conquest."
Supposedly, they had already cleared up to the 20th floor. They’d had some injuries, but not a single fatality.
Because of this success, the Japanese government was stockpiling a massive number of rare items and skill scrolls. For now, high-grade recovery potions and valuable scrolls were being prioritized for the SDF divers under the label of "clinical trials." Prioritizing lives over immediate profit felt like a very Japanese way of doing things.
Of course, the government was seizing all surplus items, and a joint public-private research project was underway to reverse-engineer them. Reproducing the items themselves would take time, but the new technologies and technical knowledge gained in the process had turned this into a massive national project with high hopes for cross-industry breakthroughs.
"Even so, it's rare for the government to move this fast—deciding to use unexplained phenomena simply because they work."
I was impressed by their uncharacteristic decisiveness. They had passed special legislation regarding dungeons and enacted it almost immediately. Usually, it takes them years of dithering just to reach a consensus. I suppose the pressure from other nations' progress had lit a fire under them.
For now, I intended to wait and see.
"At this rate, public opinion will eventually force them to open the dungeons to the general public..."
Browsing another news site, I saw that in many other countries, civilians were already calling themselves explorers and diving into dungeons. These explorers were making a killing by selling the items they found. The reports mentioned a massive influx of unemployed people, struggling youth, and those living in poverty venturing into the depths to escape their circumstances.
While those governments tried to restrict entry, they clearly lacked the control to enforce it.
"I bet some ministry in Japan will eventually create a Dungeon Explorers Association or a Dungeon Conquest Foundation."
Bureaucrats are pros at creating cushy retirement posts for themselves. They'll probably claim it's a necessary organization to manage explorers and ensure safety. I won't completely dismiss the idea, though; it’s not entirely wrong.
Besides, the more explorers there are, the more items will be extracted from the dungeons.
"If this keeps up, they might open it to civilians as early as the end of this fiscal year."
Other articles suggested the movement was already gaining traction. From the government’s perspective, it could be a solution to unemployment and a powerful shot in the arm for the economy. On the civilian side, there were already petition drives demanding the opening of the dungeons.
If the government does cave to public demand and legalizes civilian exploration, they’ll almost certainly make it a system based on total self-responsibility. A new, high-risk, high-reward profession...
"I’d better have a word with Mika."
My sister still gets stars in her eyes whenever the topic of dungeons comes up. If they ever open up to the public, she seems like exactly the type of person who would charge in headfirst.
Having finished my research on the state of the world, I closed my laptop and stood before the full-length mirror. I activated the Appraisal Analysis skill on myself, a routine I’d started recently, to check my status.
Name: Daiki Kokonoe Age: 15 Gender: Male Job: Student Level: 38 Skills: Appraisal Analysis II [A] 4/10, Psychokinesis II [A] 1/10, Spatial Storage [P] 8/10, EP Recovery Speed Up [P] 5/10 HP: 385/385 EP: 93/195
In the end, I never reported my dungeon to the authorities. My decision was cemented after seeing the chaos on the news during the first day of the Government Broadcast. For dungeons that appeared near urban centers, a 300-meter evacuation radius was enforced, displacing thousands and paralyzing infrastructure. Even now, those residents were still living as refugees. My house is right in the middle of a newly developed residential area; if I reported my desk drawer, the fallout would be catastrophic.
If I couldn't handle the situation myself, I would have reported it immediately, but for better or worse, I’ve been able to manage on my own. Over the past month, I’ve hunted nearly five thousand slimes, and my level has climbed quite high as a result. Apparently, the dungeon in my drawer is a special spawn that only produces slimes. Aside from the extremely rare metal slime, slimes give very little EXP, making the grind inefficient. However, considering I’ve been able to level up this much in total safety, I should count my blessings.
A quick search showed that the global death toll in dungeons over the past month had already surpassed ten thousand. Compared to that, I couldn't complain about the "luxury" of my monotonous routine: killing slimes with salt, picking up drops with Psychokinesis, and tucking them away in Spatial Storage.
"Still... as focused as I was, I didn't think I'd go through over 100kg of salt."
I glanced at the 25kg industrial-sized bag of salt sitting in the corner of my room. They were dirt cheap—only 1,000 yen per bag online—so I’d stocked up. Based on my testing, it took about one tablespoon of salt to kill a single slime, making the cost-performance ratio incredible. It cost less than a yen per kill.
"Even so, the initial investment really hurt my wallet. I only stayed afloat because I found a way to make money with the drop items."
For a high school student, spending several thousand yen is no small matter. I’d managed to scrape together enough for the salt by dipping into my New Year's savings, but I would have been broke if I’d needed more.
Fortunately, the drop items solved that problem. Some of the slimes dropped accessories made of precious metals. I took a simple gold ring—something that wouldn't look too suspicious—to a local pawn shop and sold it.
The shop was reputable and paid according to the market rate for gold, so I walked out with several tens of thousands of yen in cash.
Of course, that’s not a trick I can repeat too often. A high schooler showing up regularly with gold jewelry would eventually be flagged as a thief. I’ll need to find a more sustainable way to fund my hobby before long.
"If there was a way to sell these items officially, my problems would be over."
My Spatial Storage—which functioned much like a certain blue raccoon dog’s magic pocket—was packed with items from my slime hunts. Skill scrolls, recovery potions, rare minerals, and monster parts. Stuff that would sell out in an instant if I could put it on the market.
"I even have several duplicate passive type skill scrolls that would probably fetch a fortune..."
Skill scrolls are divided into active types and passive types. Active types use EP per activation, but passive types consume EP constantly just by being equipped. This was where things got dangerous.
Unless a skill scroll is unsealed, you can't tell what's inside. If you carelessly learn too many passive types, your EP will be permanently drained even when you're doing nothing. There have already been reports of people suffering from this.
I read about an explorer at the top of the leaderboards who had acquired several skills. One day, he used a new drop scroll and suddenly lost all his strength, leading to his death at the hands of a monster. The cause was his passive skills eating up his entire EP pool. Since people with analysis or appraisal skills are rare, the concept of "status" hasn't become public knowledge yet, leading to these kinds of tragedies.
"I really lucked out with Appraisal Analysis. Being able to see what’s inside a scroll before opening it is a lifesaver."
Thanks to my skill, I can carefully curate what I learn. My Spatial Storage is incredibly useful, but it’s a high-cost passive skill that drains 100 EP at all times. That’s more than half of my current total EP. Passive skills in general seem to have high overhead, so you can't just stack them indefinitely.
Among the scrolls I got from a large golden slime, there was one for Absolute Defense. It was a passive skill that required a three-digit amount of EP. If I learned that now, my EP would be permanently bottomed out, my other skills wouldn't activate, and my IPS would fail to function. A regular kid stuck in the deep layers of a dungeon wearing nothing but heavy, non-functioning armor... I don't even want to imagine it.