As I stood there frozen with the skill scroll in my hand, Yuji and Hiiragi-san shot me suspicious looks. It was only natural; I had used Appraisal Analysis and was now staring wide-eyed in shock, looking as if I’d just swallowed a bitter pill.
But honestly, I felt my reaction was justified.
“...What is it, Daiki? Was the appraisal result that bad? Like... a poison-type skill scroll or something?” Yuji asked, his voice laced with concern as he peered at the scroll.
Based on my expression, he had clearly guessed it was something dangerous.
“No, it’s not that kind of thing... though in a sense, maybe it is a poison skill,” I replied with a grimace, shaking my head to clarify it wasn’t an immediate physical hazard.
In terms of sociopolitical poison, however, it might actually be worse than a literal toxin.
“Then what is it, Kokonoe-kun? If it’s not a dangerous scroll, why would it be poisonous...?”
“...According to the appraisal, this skill scroll contains a skill called ‘Alchemy.’”
““‘Alchemy’?”” Yuji and Hiiragi-san spoke in unison, tilting their heads in confusion.
Alchemy—the legendary art of turning base metals into gold. These days, it appeared frequently in games and manga, so most people recognized it as a job or skill focused on refining materials to create items.
“Yeah, Alchemy.”
“Alchemy is that thing, right? The production-type skill you see in games,” Yuji said.
“Yeah, that’s a fine way to think of it. The specifics are a bit different, though.”
“Why would a skill like that be a problem?” Hiiragi-san asked.
It seemed they both understood the general concept of Alchemy. That made the explanation much easier.
“You probably know this, but as of right now, production-type skills haven't really been handled publicly because they’re rare and not in high demand, right?”
“Yeah,” Yuji agreed. “But the main reason there’s no demand is that they’re mostly useless. People say that even without the skills, you can do everything they offer by hand.”
“Exactly,” Hiiragi-san added. “The only production-type skills I know of are things like Mining, Gathering, and Dismantling.”
“Right. Those are all gathering-types. Processing-type skills haven’t really hit the market yet.”
For some reason, the production skills found in dungeon drops so far had been limited to gathering-type abilities that could be substituted with manual labor. I hadn't heard a single story of a skill scroll for a processing-type skill being sold by the Association. There was always the possibility the government or the Association was hoarding them in secret, but officially, processing-type skills simply didn't drop.
Then again, it might just be that the floors where processing-type scrolls appeared were much deeper than anyone had explored.
“Which means this ‘Alchemy’ is a processing-type skill, right?” Yuji asked.
“Yeah. It’s definitely a processing-type skill. And what’s more, it’s one that can process Core Crystals.”
““...””
Once the weight of my words sank in, the color drained from their faces. A skill that could process Core Crystals—if you understood the implications, a reaction like this was inevitable.
“Hey, hold on, Daiki. Did I hear that right? Core Crystal processing? Does that mean...?”
“Yeah. Depending on proficiency and EP, it would allow the user to manufacture all sorts of things.”
“...All sorts of things?”
“Yeah, all sorts of things.”
“““...”””
With our faces twitching, we all let out a collective, heavy sigh.
Being able to process Core Crystals into various forms meant that a skill holder could freely create the magic item materials that were currently so difficult to reproduce. The primary reason technological development was stalled in that field was the lack of technology for processing magitrons within the crystals. Core Crystal processing was the cornerstone of magic item development; if this hurdle could be cleared, the reproduction of magic items would advance exponentially.
“...Isn't that incredibly dangerous?”
“Yeah, it might be.”
“It’s not a ‘might,’ it is,” Hiiragi-san corrected.
We had come for a simple property viewing, only for it to be scrapped because a dungeon appeared. Then, after diving in for a quick survey, we ended up holding a political landmine. This was the price of agreeing to things too easily. Discovering an unregistered dungeon was already a headache, but this was a whole new level of trouble.
“If we just hand this scroll over to the Association, will that be the end of it?” Yuji wondered.
“I doubt it. This Alchemy skill seems to be a high-rank skill. The effects are powerful, but the EP consumption looks massive. At the very least, no one below the level of a high-level explorer could use it effectively.”
“In that case, it definitely won’t end with us just handing it over,” Hiiragi-san said grimly.
Given the utility of Alchemy, the Association or the government would likely want to minimize the number of people who knew it existed. If they could master Alchemy, they could lead the world in magic item production. Being able to industrially mass-produce magic items that were currently rare dungeon drops would bring in astronomical profits.
In that scenario, how would they view us? We were the ones who found the scroll, and we were high-level explorers ourselves. We were students with no ties to corporations or organizations, yet we were backed by figures like Juzo-san and Genya-san. We were cornered. I could practically see the government-backed researchers in white coats beckoning us with employment contracts and non-disclosure agreements in hand.
“...It’s a future where we’re almost certainly going to be sequestered,” I muttered.
“I wonder if they’d at least let us finish high school first...” Yuji said.
“I really don’t want to be a dropout,” Hiiragi-san added.
We all sighed again, imagining the bleak future that awaited us if we handed over the scroll. Being a civil servant isn't a bad career path, but being forced to quit school for it sparked a bit of rebellion in me. They would probably try to be accommodating, but given the strategic importance of Alchemy, they would eventually fence us in. It was a chance for the nation to get a global head start, after all.
“Should we hide it...?” I suggested.
“Wait, Daiki,” Yuji countered. “Even if we hide it, what then? This is a new dungeon. If we don’t turn over something impressive as the first-time bonus, they’ll suspect we’re holding out on them when they do their own survey. Even if we say we used the scroll ourselves, they’ll just wonder what else we’re hiding.”
“He’s right,” Hiiragi-san said. “And in our case, we actually are hiding something—the Drawer Dungeon. We shouldn't do anything that invites unnecessary scrutiny.”
She was right; the risk was too high. We weighed the options of whether to submit it or not.
“Yeah, I guess hiding it isn't an option. Especially since Yuta-san has to report this anyway.”
“Exactly,” Yuji agreed. “The Association will send their own explorers to verify the site. It’s better to deal with this as the discoverers than to have them digging into us later.”
“So honestly turning it over is the best path... though I hate thinking about the downsides.”
I was about to resign myself to having our future careers decided for us when Hiiragi-san spoke up, as if a thought had just occurred to her.
“Hey, I have an idea. Hiding it might be a bad move, but what if we just swap it?”
““Swap it?””
“Yes. The problem is turning over the Alchemy scroll. What if we provide a different item of equal value—something that looks like a plausible first-time bonus? I remember we picked up something just right recently.”
““That’s it!”” Yuji and I exclaimed.
If the item we had was too problematic, we just had to replace it! As far as the Association was concerned, as long as we handed over something valuable enough to pass as a first-time bonus, they’d be satisfied. We just needed something that wouldn't cause us any trouble. And both Yuji and I knew exactly what Hiiragi-san was talking about.
“Daiki, do you have it with you?!”
“Of course. It’s too valuable to leave lying around, so I keep it in storage!”
I quickly rummaged through my Spatial Storage and pulled out a leather shoulder bag. It was a magic bag we had acquired recently—a perfect candidate for a high-value drop item that wouldn't look out of place as a first-time bonus.
Handing this over wouldn't hurt us at all. It might cause a stir in the industry, but it wouldn't change the world’s power balance.
“If we hand this over, we can bluff our way through!”
“A magic bag is something a civilian explorer could almost never get their hands on, so it’ll definitely pass as a first-time bonus,” Yuji said.
“I hope so,” Hiiragi-san said. “Since this isn't an official dungeon, there might be questions about ownership, but even if it’s confiscated, it’s just us getting rid of an item we couldn't show in public anyway. And if they let us keep it, we’ll finally be able to use a magic bag officially.”
It was a win-win. The biggest issue with the magic bag was that we couldn't explain how we got it. If we were granted official ownership, we might have to deal with some envy, but being able to use it openly would be a huge advantage. If dungeon-related companies got too persistent about it, we could always sell it for a high price. Being hounded by buyers would be a pain, anyway.
“Alright, let’s use this as our evidence for the Association. If they confiscate it, we’ll just give up on it. If they let us keep it, we’ll use it discreetly.”
“Understood. Honestly, it might be less of a headache if they just take it,” Yuji mused. “Maybe the government will buy it for research or something.”
“Right. If they’re aggressive about buying it, we can use that to put them in our debt.”
With the drop item problem solved, we prepared to leave. We had been huddled together for a while, and it was nearly time for our meeting with Yuta-san. If we were late, he’d probably think we’d been eaten, so we hurried back.
When we emerged from the dungeon, Yuta-san was waiting for us with a look of profound relief. He scanned us from head to toe, clearly checking for any injuries. I felt a bit bad for making him worry so much.
“We’re back, Yuta-san. It’s definitely a dungeon.”
“I see... So it really is one. Hah, how on earth am I going to report this?”
“Just tell them what you saw. We should submit photos and footage of the entrance, and this item as well. They’ll have to believe the evidence.”
“This is...?” Yuta-san looked confused as Yuji handed him the magic bag.
“It’s a drop item from a monster inside. We couldn’t avoid it, so we took it down.”
“You... you fought it?”
“Yes. But there were three of us, so it was an easy win.”
“I see...” Yuta-san’s shoulders slumped.
As we talked, it became clear that while he had braced himself for the possibility, the fact that we had actually engaged in combat really weighed on him. He felt that he should have stopped us from going inside, regardless of how capable we said we were. He bowed his head, apologizing for letting us do something so dangerous.
“Please, lift your head, Yuta-san. Investigating the dungeon was our own choice. It’s not your fault.”
“But...”
“Really, the whole thing was over with a single kick. It’s harder on us to have you apologize like this, so please, don't.”
“...I understand.”
After a bit of back-and-forth, we finished our initial report. We began our trek back to where we could get a cell signal so we could call Kiritani-san. Since we were so deep in the mountains, it would take a while before we could reach anyone.
Man, a simple favor really turned into a massive ordeal. Still, swapping the scroll for something less troublesome was the right call.