A wave of mild dizziness washed over me as I stared at the business card held out by the middle-aged man. He wore a placid, practiced smile. I couldn't believe someone was actually trying to scout me with a dungeon-related company business card this late in the day.
I’d heard from Hiiragi-san, who handled the morning shift, that people like this had shown up earlier and been forcibly removed. I’d assumed the solicitation drama had peaked then. Since Yuji and his group hadn't reported any issues during their shift, I’d let my guard down.
I shot a quick glance at Mika, signaling her to keep an eye on the booth, then addressed the man in a clipped, professional tone. I didn't take the card.
"Welcome. I'm sorry, but we are currently in the middle of school festival activities, so I cannot accept any business cards."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. We are currently conducting exhibition activities as a club, so I am unable to engage in personal consultations."
"..."
When I phrased my reply to imply he should leave if he wasn't interested in the exhibit, the man’s expression soured for a moment. However, he quickly tucked the card away and smoothed his features back into that gentle smile. Seriously? You're not going to leave...?
Hiding my exasperation, I watched as he cleared his throat and tried again.
"Well then, could I have a moment of your time after the festival ends?"
"I’m afraid not. We’ll be busy with cleanup and other duties after school, so it would be difficult to find the time."
"Then perhaps another day—"
"I’m sorry, but no."
When I flatly shut him down with a cold, blank stare, his pleasant facade finally cracked. His face began to twitch with irritation.
His true colors were starting to show.
"Hey now, give me a break. Is that any way to treat an adult who went out of his way to come all the way here?"
"An adult, you say? Are you referring to how I should respond to someone who brings up matters completely unrelated to a school event without an appointment?"
"!?"
"To begin with, if this were something that could be discussed on another day, it isn’t the sort of thing you should be bringing here in the middle of a festival, is it?"
When I pressed him on who exactly was the one lacking common sense, his face cramped and he fell silent. He brought it on himself, but I suppose some people would be furious at being humiliated like this by a teenager.
However, it would be a hassle if he started a scene, so I decided to deliver a finishing blow.
"Now that I think about it, several people with similar business arrived this morning. They were all escorted to the school gates by faculty members. They made quite a scene, and I heard there were discussions about whether or not to seek external cooperation..."
When I hinted at "external cooperation"—meaning the police—the man’s expression shifted to a different kind of grimace as he realized how poorly he'd handled things.
I didn't know if the school would actually call the police, but they would certainly consider it, so it wasn't exactly a lie. Probably.
"!...I’ve just remembered an urgent appointment. If you'll excuse me."
"I see. Thank you for visiting."
Noticing the eyes of the other guests on him, the man hurriedly spat out an excuse and fled the club room, looking thoroughly embarrassed. I felt a wave of relief at having dealt with the nuisance and turned toward Mika, whom I had left to handle the rest of the room.
Wait... why did the atmosphere in the room feel so strange?
"W-What's wrong?" I asked.
"What do you mean 'what's wrong'...? Uh, that was kind of amazing. You were so composed. You stood your ground so well."
"?"
When I spoke to the flustered Mika, she gave me an equally flustered, odd reply.
Tilting my head, I turned to the remaining guests to apologize for the disturbance, only to find them looking at me with something resembling admiration.
"Ah, um, I’m sorry for the interruption. Please, continue with the exhibition."
"Ohhh!"
When I gave a slight bow, a collective murmur of awe rose from the crowd. Their expressions were almost like they were saying, "Well done, kid."
Still, I couldn't just stand there being bewildered, so I returned to my duties.
The school festival was set to end in about ten minutes. The long queue that had stretched in front of our club room was finally gone, leaving only two visitors inside. This long day was drawing to a close.
Mika and I just had to push through this last stretch and wait for the final guests to depart.
"We managed to handle it somehow."
"Yeah, I never dreamed we'd get this many people."
"Me neither. I thought we'd be lucky to see a hundred visitors..."
"But once the doors opened, look what happened," Mika said with a smile.
We sat in the chairs at the reception desk, chatting in low voices about our impressions of the day. Well, it was mostly a vent session.
Even with the extra copies we had made, we were down to fewer than ten of those handouts.
"I’m glad the extra copies were enough. It would have been a shame to turn people away after they came all this way."
"You're right. Every single person who stopped by took a handout. I'm just glad we didn't run out."
"Actually, it’s a bit strange that everyone felt they needed one. Especially the current second and third-years—didn't they talk about this stuff at home after the New Year?"
"It's probably like this, Onii-chan: they just weren't earning enough to feel like it mattered. Last year, there wasn't much time between the dungeons opening and the end of the year. Plus, as students, they couldn't exactly spend all day in the dungeon. Like you told me, when things first started last year, it was so crowded you couldn't even find monsters."
It was true. When dungeons were first opened to the public, the surface floors were so packed that encountering a monster was a feat in itself. Everyone was a newcomer explorer back then, but the sheer volume of people far exceeded the capacity of the first floor. I'd heard it was common to walk around for hours without seeing a single monster. Unless you were incredibly lucky, you had no hope of getting a rare drop like a skill scroll.
Considering that, it was likely impossible for most student explorers to earn enough income to even approach their tax dependency limit.
"I remember those days. Because of that period, they started imposing entry restrictions, and the rule about party exploration being the standard over solo exploration was established."
"The upper floors are still pretty crowded even now. I think they had to impose entry restrictions back then, or nobody would have been able to do any real exploration. Even during summer break, I saw so many people that I couldn't help but feel they were in the way."
"Tell me about it. They space out the parties at the entrance, but once a fight starts, it gets way too congested. If someone tries to use a long-reaching weapon or projectile magic carelessly, you start worrying they'll hit the parties around them."
"Oh, I totally get that. People keep their distance on the main paths, but as soon as they step into a side path, they get sloppy. I wish they'd at least keep enough space to swing a weapon and fight properly."
On the surface floors where newcomer explorers are common, these sorts of unspoken rules are frequently ignored. Most parties figure out the nuances after a few runs once they see how others move. The problem is the parties that don't understand those rules and just do whatever they want. They use weapons or magic recklessly with other parties nearby, causing injuries with stray shots and sparking disputes. Most of the time, the offending party ignores their own blunder and starts complaining as if the victim's party was at fault.
Of course, those parties are quickly singled out as hazards. If they don't apologize and improve, they get ostracized.
"I'm sure they figure it out once they've gone in a few times, but it would really help if the Dungeon Association taught that stuff as part of rookie training. There are quite a few local rules you should know before you enter a dungeon."
"There really are. Those 'read the room' type rules. I've thought so many times that they should have just told us beforehand."
"It's true that you learn them eventually, but a prior explanation would be effective for preventing trouble inside the dungeon."
It might be manageable during day exploration when people have some mental leeway, but during overnight exploration that lasts for days, that leeway erodes. Little things can trigger major conflicts. If the minimum rules and manners were put into writing as a unified standard, it would surely reduce the number of disputes.
Given that the average floor level of explorers will likely increase over time, fostering this awareness early on would definitely reduce trouble.
"You're right. I wonder why they don't do it?"
"Well, if you try to build a system like that, you run into the problem of who has jurisdiction. It sounds good in theory, but it’s all happening inside a dungeon. If you make rules, you have to enforce them, but since it’s a dungeon, people are probably hesitating because they wonder if it’s even possible."
"True, management is difficult when it comes to the inside of a dungeon."
"And if someone violates a rule, how do you penalize them? Even if it's based on reports, you'd have the problem of gathering evidence or witnesses."
In that case, all the Dungeon Association can really do is carry out simple awareness campaigns that appeal to ethics, even if their effectiveness is questionable. Still, it’s actually pretty impressive that no major incidents have happened so far.
While I was chatting with Mika, the last guest finished their tour and left the room.
Thank you very much!
As we saw them off, we finally relaxed and stretched, feeling the weight lift from our shoulders.
It had been long—really, really long.
A few minutes after the last guest departed, the school broadcast began. Hoshino, the Culture Festival Executive Committee Chair, spoke over the speakers.
"Good work, everyone. This is Hoshino, the chair of the executive committee. It is now the closing time for the school festival. I cannot find the words to express my gratitude to the many guests who visited our school today. Thank you so much. And I want to thank all the students; it is because of your cooperation that we were able to have the best school festival possible. Your daily hard work was on full display, and I believe every attraction was a wonderful achievement born of your creativity."
Listening to Hoshino's slightly excited voice, I could tell he was truly moved by how the festival turned out.
"Now, everyone, it is sad to say, but I hereby declare the school festival over! Thank you all for your hard work today!"
Following the declaration, thunderous applause erupted from all over the school. A great cheer also echoed from the club building where we were, making it truly sink in that the festival was over.
After a short pause, Hoshino gave the next set of instructions.
"We will now begin the cleanup. We ask all outside guests to please exit the campus promptly. Students, please begin cleaning and clearing out your respective stalls and attractions. Please be careful and aim for a quick cleanup."
At the signal to start cleaning, I felt as though a collective sigh of regret rippled through the school. Everyone seemed to have enjoyed themselves. The end of a festival is always a bit lonely.
And finally, Hoshino's voice rang out one last time.
"Everyone, remember: the festival isn't over until the cleanup is done! Now, let’s get to work."
His phrasing, reminiscent of the classic "the field trip isn't over until you get home," made me chuckle. Mika apparently felt the same way, as she was laughing beside me.
Well, this was better than ending on a somber note.
"Alright, shall we start cleaning? Like he said, the festival isn't over until the cleanup is done."
"Haha, you're right. I have to go help with my class's cleanup too, so let's get moving."
"Yeah, let's get this finished quickly."
Mika and I shared a laugh to ease the tension, then began the task of packing up the club's exhibition. Since we hadn't moved much to begin with, it wouldn't take long to tidy up.