Seeing Aunt Maho with her hand to her cheek, looking truly distressed, Mika and I couldn’t help but exchange awkward glances. She clearly wanted us to be the ones to talk sense into Taiga—to convince him that going to university was the right choice.
And yet, here we were, the very people she expected to do the convincing, working as explorers ourselves. It wasn’t exactly our fault, was it?
“Um, Maho? Is Taiga really serious about making a living as an explorer?” Dad asked.
“Yes, that’s the problem. He seems completely set on it. He thinks that as long as he’s with the friends he’s diving with now, he can make a career of it without any issues...”
“...I see.”
Dad wore an unreadable expression, crossing his arms and staring up at the ceiling as if deep in thought. I could tell there was a conflict within him. Part of him wanted to support a young man chasing his dreams, while the other part felt he should intervene as an elder.
Since Mika and I were both explorers, Dad had a basic understanding of the job, though I wasn’t sure if our specific circumstances were the best point of reference for a typical career.
“Daiki, Mika... could you two try talking to Taiga?” Dad suggested. “Since you’re in the same profession, you might find common ground with him more easily than we can.”
“Ah, yeah. I guess you’re right...”
“Y-Yeah...”
It felt a bit like he was dumping the responsibility on us, but Dad had a point. Mika and I nodded reluctantly. Given our own positions, it was hard to proactively offer to "fix" him. Anything we said to persuade him would likely blow right back in our faces.
The atmosphere had grown a bit stifling, so we took the opportunity to start unloading the bags from the car into the guest room.
“Hey, Onii-chan. What are we going to do?” Mika asked as we hauled the luggage. She looked a little anxious about how we’d handle the upcoming conversation.
“Even if you ask me that... I can’t say anything until I’ve heard Taiga’s side of things first.”
It wasn’t like we could just beat him up and say, "It’s laughable that you think you can make a living as an explorer with such pathetic skills! Give up on these delusions and go to school!" I didn't want to do that. I needed to hear him out and understand how he’d reached this conclusion in the first place.
“True. But if we’re going to talk to him, we’ll probably have to tell him about ourselves, right? How much should we share? Is the level of detail we gave Fumika-onee-chan okay?”
“What we told Fumika-neesan was just a surface-level summary of the job. But Taiga is an active explorer. If he’s at the point where he wants to go full-time, we can’t just give him the sugar-coated version.”
At the very least, he likely had more experience as an explorer than Mika did, even if I wasn't sure about his actual combat ability.
In that case, we’d have to speak to him as peers. That said, there was no way we could reveal everything about our dungeon dives or our training. If someone heard about Juzo-san and Genya-san’s methods without any context, it would just sound like torture or abuse. Honestly, how did we manage to get through that without quitting?
“...Right. I think it’s fine to tell him what kind of training we do at Juzo-san’s dojo and which floors we’ve reached.”
“That sounds pretty normal. But will that be enough to convince him?”
“Hmm. In that case... all right, let’s try telling him that story.”
Depending on Taiga’s experience level, I planned to share something a bit heavier. If his resolve to be a full-time explorer didn't waver even after hearing the dark side of the job, then there was nothing more we could do. It would be a family matter then—they’d just have to talk until they reached a conclusion they could all live with.
“‘That story’?”
“A version of what happened recently, but darker. It’s the kind of thing you can’t avoid if you stay in this profession. Though, if Taiga’s been doing this as long as they say, it might already be common knowledge to him.”
“...”
Mika realized what I was referring to. Her expression stiffened, and she fell silent. That incident had been a significant shock to her, so her reaction was understandable, especially if I intended to share an even grimmer perspective.
Still, whether I’d actually go through with it depended on the conversation. If I could avoid telling it, I would.
“Hey, Daiki, Mika! Stop standing around and finish bringing those bags in!” Dad called out.
“Oh, right! Coming!”
“Sorry, Dad. We’re on it.”
Dad’s shout broke the tension. Mika started jogging with the luggage as if trying to run away from the heavy mood. I didn’t know how the talk with Taiga would go, but I hoped it wouldn’t end badly.
Once the luggage was inside, we spent some time chatting with our grandparents and Aunt Maho. Eventually, Uncle Yamato Kokonoe returned from inspecting the fields. He was still in his work clothes as we exchanged greetings.
As we sat in the living room catching up, it became clear that Uncle Yamato was just as stressed about Taiga as everyone else.
“I see. So Mika-chan and Daiki-kun are explorers too...”
“Yes. We’ve been at it since late last year,” I replied.
“And Mika-chan started right after her birthday... I suppose the dungeons really are that enticing to young people.”
“They are. Most students who reach the eligible age go to get their Armed Exploration Permit for Special Underground Structures. In fact, among the upperclassmen, those who don’t have a permit are in the minority now.”
“...Is it really that widespread?”
Hearing about the current school environment from me, Uncle Yamato let out a deep sigh while rubbing the bridge of his nose. His reaction made me realize that the explorer profession was still in its infancy. For the general public—especially parents—it wasn't a familiar or "safe" career path.
It wasn't that his thinking was old-fashioned; it was just that any parent would prefer a stable job for their child over something that felt like a gamble. Being part of a corporation might be one thing, but as an individual... the risks were significantly higher than a typical job. I decided I should speak to Taiga from that perspective as well.
“Right now, the novelty is driving a lot of it, but I think public recognition will normalize in a few years. Dungeon products are becoming a common sight in town now,” I noted.
Even at the family restaurant we’d visited before arriving here, they’d had limited-time menu items featuring dungeon food. Once the supply chain stabilized, it would likely be normal to see dungeon ingredients on standard menus everywhere.
“Do you think so?”
“Yes. There are even rumors in the news that the government is looking into establishing specialized schools for training explorers. Society is slowly but surely moving to adapt to the existence of dungeons.”
“...”
Before I spoke with Taiga, I wanted to lay some groundwork so that Uncle and the others could find a middle ground. If they just demanded total compromise from him, it would leave a scar and likely lead to a bigger rebellion later. I didn't want to see a rift form between Taiga and his parents.
That was why I wanted to prepare the field—to create a space where both sides could actually negotiate.
“But Daiki,” Grandpa Daikichi cut in, stroking his chin. “If you say it’ll take several years for society to catch up, doesn’t that mean there’s no rush? He could just go to university first...”
“That’s a fair point, Grandpa. But by then, the market for explorers might be saturated. If Taiga waits to establish himself, he might find the situation much more competitive than it is now.”
If one aimed to be a corporate explorer, waiting was fine. But for those trying to make it on their own, this transitional period—where truly skilled explorers were rare—represented a unique window of opportunity.
Of course, that only applied if Taiga’s party was actually talented. If they weren't in the top tier of their local dungeon, the argument wouldn't hold much weight.
“Hmm, it’s a difficult puzzle.”
“It is. And since we haven't heard exactly how Taiga plans to succeed yet, I can't say which path is better for him.”
Grandpa Daikichi sipped his tea with an expression that sat somewhere between convinced and skeptical. I glanced at the wall clock and turned to Aunt Maho.
“By the way, Aunt Maho, when does Taiga usually get home?”
“Taiga? Recently he’s been coming back before 7:00 PM. But I told him you two were coming today and asked him to be back early, so it shouldn't be much longer.”
“7:00 PM, huh...”
Since we were scheduled to head back tomorrow, a late return would make it hard to have a deep conversation tonight. With that in mind, I did my final preparations and waited for my cousin to arrive.
The summer sun was still high, but as evening approached, Aunt Maho and Mom started on dinner. Dad, Uncle Yamato, and my grandparents were already in the living room, nibbling on snacks and starting in on the alcohol.
Meanwhile, Mika and I were occupied elsewhere.
“Ei!”
“Hmm, your spacing is a little off. I know the reach is different from your usual weapon, but you need to train yourself to adjust to those differences quickly.”
“I know. But it’s hard...”
We were using the sprawling yard for a mock battle that doubled as a training session. Since we couldn't talk to Taiga yet and didn't want to join the adults' drinking session, we were at a loose end. We could have wasted time on mobile games, but that felt a bit hollow when we were visiting family.
“You just have to swing enough different things until you get the feel for it,” I said. “With enough experience, you’ll be able to adjust your spacing after just two or three swings with a new tool. Use your explorer stamina to get the reps in. If you want a recommendation for practice, try telescopic rods.”
“Telescopic rods... Oh, right. You used to break a ton of those, didn’t you, Onii-chan?”
“...Their sacrifice allowed me to master reach adjustment and power control.”
Man, that brought back memories. If you got carried away and swung them with too much force, those rods snapped like twigs. If you apply force instantaneously with explorer-level specs, the rods can't handle the sudden load. I must have broken dozens of rods from the hundred-yen shop before I learned how to apply force without snapping them.
I wondered if the staff at that shop had a nickname for me back then. The Telescopic Rod Kid, maybe?
“Okay, I’ll give it a try.”
“When you do, make sure to change the length randomly each time. There’s no point if you always practice at a fixed length.”
“I know that much!”
Mika puffed out her cheeks in mock annoyance, then suddenly lunged forward, swinging her wooden sword. She’d corrected the reach issue I’d mentioned—it was a solid strike.
Of course, it was still easy to dodge.
“Moo! You could let me hit you once in a while!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It hurts to get hit.”
“But you’re so good at shedding the impact that you’d be fine, wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe, but we’re not at the dojo. If Dad and the others see me getting hit with a wooden sword, they’ll just worry. It’s not worth it.”
I dismissed her request with a wave of my hand. With a blunt wooden sword, you can negate most of the impact by moving in the same direction as the strike the moment it connects. It looks flashy and works well for a public appeal demonstration, but it wasn't necessary for a private spar with no audience.
As we continued our back-and-forth, I suddenly felt a gaze on us from a distance.
“Hm?”
“What is it, Onii-chan?”
“Nothing... I thought I felt someone watching us.”
“? I don't see anyone.”
“Yeah...”
I didn't sense any of the hostility you'd get from a monster, so it was probably just someone who happened to catch sight of our spar. I was curious, but there was no point dwelling on it.
I shook my head and signaled the end of the session.
“...Let’s head back in.”
“Okay.”
Mika and I put the wooden swords back in the car and returned to the house.
Taiga was supposed to be back early. I wondered what was taking him so long.