Mika and Saori-chan sat in stunned silence for a long moment after my comment about the diapers. It made sense; diapers aren't exactly the kind of thing an ordinary person associates with the glamorous image of dungeon exploration.
Once they finally processed what I’d said, their faces flushed a deep red. They looked visibly agitated as they began to interrogate me on why such a thing could possibly be necessary.
“Um, did I hear that right? I thought you said we needed... diapers?” Mika asked tentatively.
“You didn't hear wrong,” I replied.
“...But why?” Saori-chan added, her voice small.
“Why? Because a surprising number of explorers end up messing themselves on their first real delve.”
““...””
Both of their faces twitched in unison.
In truth, this was one of those "dungeon truths" that never made it into the public eye. When faced with a monster attacking with genuine, naked bloodlust, inexperienced explorers often lost control of their bladders or bowels due to sheer terror and tension. In a way, it was a rite of passage for rookies. Those with experience had an unspoken agreement to look the other way if they encountered a newcomer who’d had an accident.
After all, nobody wants their past embarrassments dug up.
“It sounds like a tall tale, but I promise you, it’s the truth.”
“Onii-chan... is it really that necessary?” Mika asked, looking pained.
“Well, some people are fine without them, but it’s probably safer to wear them just in case.”
“If you’re going that far, it must be a serious issue...” Saori-chan sighed heavily, a look of profound distaste on her face.
This kind of talk was a real mood-killer. When people imagined dungeons, they usually thought of games or novels, where the biological realities of a long crawl are never depicted.
“By the way, there are toilets inside the dungeon, but only on the second and third floors—the relatively safe ones.”
“Eh?”
“Think about it. How are you going to set up a bathroom in a place where monsters are constantly spawning? The ones on the second and third floors only exist because monsters don't approach the areas near the stairs.”
The stairs on the surface floors—the tutorial stages—seemed to be designated safe zones. Since no monsters had ever been confirmed to appear there, the Association had installed several simple, vault-style portable toilets near the landings.
However, from the fourth floor onward, monsters appeared even near the stairs. Fearing equipment damage, the Association didn't bother installing anything there.
The collection of waste and the replenishment of cleaning water were handled by specialized companies that employed staff with explorer licenses. These contractors were paid a premium by the Dungeon Association, which included hazard pay. They had a decent reputation for cleanliness, with reports saying the facilities were kept in good shape through daily maintenance.
I wondered if the employees were required to have the Cleansing skill.
“Then how do explorers who go to the fourth floor and beyond... do their business?” Saori-chan asked.
“Most people just hold it until they leave the dungeon. Obviously, they manage their physical condition beforehand—limiting fluid intake and eating easily digestible meals.”
“Ah! So that’s why you didn't eat salad or anything the day before you went to the dungeon, Onii-chan.”
“But what do they do when it’s absolutely urgent?” Saori-chan pressed.
“They probably use portable toilets, the kind designed for mountain climbing. There are waste bins at the dungeon exit, so they can just dispose of them on their way out.”
Though, truth be told, I occasionally saw black bags abandoned in the corners of the corridors. Since the Association provided proper disposal areas, I really wished people would follow basic public hygiene manners.
As I was educating them on the realities of being an explorer, a waiter approached our table with a stern expression.
“Excuse me, customers. I’m afraid I have to ask you to refrain from that specific topic. It’s disturbing the other guests...”
“Ah, sorry!”
““We’re so sorry!””
Flustered, the three of us hurriedly bowed our heads in apology.
Our voices must have carried further than I realized. Looking around after the waiter left, I saw several other customers shooting us irritated glares.
It was incredibly awkward.
“Um... maybe we should head somewhere else?” I suggested.
“Yeah, good idea,” Mika agreed immediately.
“Yes, let’s move,” Saori-chan added.
The girls quickly finished their remaining cake and drinks. It was clear we couldn't stay there any longer.
“Thanks for the food.”
“Thank you for the meal.”
“Right. Let's go.”
I grabbed the bill and headed to the register, with the two of them trailing behind me with their bags. A staff member was already waiting at the counter; they’d clearly been anticipating our departure.
“That will be 3,540 yen, please.”
“Out of five thousand.”
“Out of five thousand... and 1,460 yen is your change. We look forward to seeing you again.”
“Sorry for the disturbance,” I said with a final nod.
“Don't worry about it.”
We apologized one last time and stepped out of the cafe. It really wasn't the kind of conversation for a place where people were trying to enjoy sweets. We looked at each other, mutually reflecting on our lack of discretion.
After wandering around the shopping district for a while to let the awkwardness fade, we decided to get some actual lunch. We ducked into an Italian restaurant with a tricolor flag fluttering outside. The interior was dimly lit and cozy, featuring a long counter and several four-person wooden tables. Since it was the peak of the lunch hour, the place was packed.
A server noticed us and hurried over.
“Welcome! A table for three?”
“Yes, please.”
“Right this way...”
We were led to a table at the back. As we settled in and set down our shopping bags, the server brought over water, wet towels, and menus.
“Please press the call button when you’re ready to order.”
“Will do. Thank you.”
Once the server left, we spread out the menus. The lunch specials were reasonably priced at 980 yen, offering a choice between pasta or pizza, accompanied by salad, soup, and coffee. Even the à la carte items were affordable, with nothing exceeding 3,000 yen.
“Order whatever you like, it’s on me,” I told them.
“Got it.”
“Thank you so much!”
Since I’d already told them I was covering the day's expenses back at the cafe, they didn't hesitate to dive into the menu. After a few minutes of deliberation, I decided on the Mixed Grill Set.
“...Have you two decided yet?” I asked, looking up.
“Yeah. I’ll do the pizza lunch set,” Mika said.
“I’ll have the pasta lunch set, please,” Saori-chan added.
“Are you sure just the lunch sets are enough? You really don't have to hold back.”
I thought they might be being modest because I was paying, but they both shook their heads.
“I'm not holding back, I promise,” Mika said.
“Me neither. It’s just that the cake from earlier is still taking up space. I’m not just being polite,” Saori-chan explained.
“Fair enough. I’ll call the waiter then.”
I pressed the button on the side of the table, and a clear chime rang through the restaurant. A server appeared moments later.
“Are you ready to order?”
“Yes. One pizza lunch set, one pasta lunch set, and one Mixed Grill Set.”
“And what would you like for your lunch drinks?”
I hadn't thought that far ahead, so I looked to the girls.
“I’ll have tea,” Mika said. “What about you, Saori-chan?”
“I’ll have tea as well, please.”
“Two teas,” I told the waiter.
“Understood. I'll bring those out after the meal.”
“Thanks. Oh, and does the Mixed Grill come with a drink?”
“I’m afraid it doesn't. However, we can add a coffee for an additional 100 yen for customers ordering a meal.”
“I’ll take the coffee, then. After the meal, please.”
The waiter bowed and headed back to the kitchen. While we waited for the food, I decided to pick up the conversation I’d cut short earlier—though I made sure to change the topic to something more restaurant-appropriate.
“So, you both said you want to start as explorers... but do you have enough money to buy your gear?”
“Well, I’ve been saving up my New Year’s money, so I think I should be okay...” Mika said.
“I’ve been saving mine too. I was planning on using that,” Saori-chan added.
It seemed they both had some savings. However...
“Just so you know, even if you stick to the bare essentials, it’s going to cost at least 100,000 yen to get started.”
“Eh?!”
“One... one hundred thousand yen?”
They both cried out in shock before quickly remembering where we were and clamping their hands over their mouths. I looked around and gave a small, apologetic nod to the other diners.
“Keep it down, you two. I’d really like to avoid being asked to leave a second time.”
“S-sorry...”
“Our apologies...”
They both slumped their shoulders, looking thoroughly sheepish.
“Well, it’s a big number. I can’t blame you for being shocked,” I said, taking a sip of water. We had also struggled with the initial costs when we first started out. “If your budget is tight, it’s better to buy what you can second-hand and put the rest of your money toward getting brand-new weapons and armor. If you skimp on those, it could be a fatal mistake later.”
“Ugh, second-hand gear...?” Mika muttered, looking less than thrilled.
“If you don't have the cash, you have to compromise somewhere. You need to be smart about what’s a necessity and what isn't, and focus your spending where it counts.”
Mika clearly didn't like the idea of used equipment. I understood the desire to have everything shiny and new, but reality didn't care about aesthetics.
“Even if it’s second-hand, a lot of it is stuff from people who quit after just a few dungeon crawls. It’s practically brand new. It takes some effort to find the good stuff on the Association’s auction page, but there are some real gems if you look.”
There were plenty of "explorers" who called it quits after a single day.
Saori-chan leaned in, curious about the market. “Is that really true?”
“Yeah. A lot of people become explorers because their friends are doing it or they feel pressured into it. Those types usually lose their nerve the second they face a monster. A few might get back on their feet, but most just retire on the spot. Their gear ends up on the auction block as 'used' goods.”
“But wouldn't the bidding be really competitive? It sounds like it would end up being expensive anyway.”
It was a fair question, but the Association’s site operated a bit differently from a standard auction.
“You’d think so, but not really.”
“?”
“Not many explorers actually use the second-hand market. The ones who are making money just buy new, and the rookies—who should be the main customers—usually don't find out the market even exists until after they’ve already bought their full-priced gear.”
“...Why doesn't the Association tell them?”
“Because they don’t have to. The Association would much rather you buy new equipment from them. Their stance is: they’ll answer if you ask, but they won't volunteer the information. That’s just how the Dungeon Association works.”
They’d done something similar with weapons before. They weren't necessarily evil, but they were certainly cold.
“...Wow.”
“That’s... kind of mean.”
“If you do your homework, the Association is a powerful ally. If you’re ignorant, they won't necessarily exploit you, but they certainly won't go out of their way to help you either. You two need to keep that in mind if you’re serious about this.”
The girls grimaced. It was the standard reaction whenever someone learned about the Association's true nature.
“Thank you for waiting! Here are your orders.”
The timing was perfect. A server arrived with the food, and the mouth-watering scent of fresh pizza filled the air.
“Is that everything for you?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Please, enjoy your meal.”
The server bowed and left. Steaming plates were laid out before us. It was time to eat.
“Alright, enough talk. Let’s eat while it’s hot.”
“Yeah!”
“Thank you for the food!”
I needed to refuel. We all dug in.