On the Saturday of the week we signed the lease with Kiritani Real Estate, we loaded up our bicycles and headed to the Cape. We were there to plan how we would renovate our new training ground.
Even if I called it "ours," technically it was still just a rental.
"Looking at it now, it still hasn't quite sunk in that this is ours," Yuji said.
"Yeah. I think because we’re so used to seeing this place, it doesn't feel real yet."
"I agree," Hiiragi-san added. "But once we start working on it ourselves, that feeling will come soon enough."
The three of us stood before the rusted gate and fence that marked the boundary of the property. We wore unreadable expressions, caught in a dreamlike haze. We had scrambled to find a property, cleared the tedious certification exams, and finalized the formal lease with the real estate agent—the whole process had moved so fast that it felt slightly surreal.
Looking back at how we’d managed to get this far, I couldn't help but be impressed. Normally, a project like this would take six months or a year. I wondered why everything had progressed at such a breakneck pace.
"Well, regardless," Yuji said, "the gate and fence repairs are a project for later. For now, why don't we set up what we need to? Yuta-san said we should stick the sign on the gate so he can see it too."
"Right, let's get to it."
"Yes."
We took out the handmade acrylic nameplate we’d brought on our bikes. This sign was something we had made using a laser engraver at a home improvement center; the staff there had guided us through it, and it had been surprisingly easy to produce. Initially, we’d considered just painting a wooden board, but we decided to put in a little extra effort for the sake of weather resistance and the significance of the occasion. It had turned out quite well.
"How's this? Is it crooked?" Yuji asked.
"Hmm, it's slanting up a bit on the right. Lower that side a little... okay, that’s perfect."
"It looks good. Let's secure it there," Hiiragi-san said.
I threaded screws through the holes in the four corners of the nameplate, tightening them into the nuts on the fixing plate positioned on the back of the gate. If the fit was loose, the vibrations from the wind or the gate opening would cause it to tilt, so I made sure to crank them down until the plate was immobile.
After a quick check for any wobbling or slanting, the job was done.
"There, finished! Wow, a single nameplate really changes the whole vibe," Yuji said.
"It does. It’s starting to feel like our training ground now."
"Yes. It’s quite moving, in its own way," Hiiragi-san remarked.
The brand-new nameplate now hung on a gate rusted by years of salt and rain. It bore the words "Team NES Private Training Facility" in white, vertical script. At the bottom, we had affixed the sticker issued by the Association indicating our skill use permit.
There were plenty of other things to fix, but with this sign up, the place finally looked like a proper training facility.
"Now that the nameplate is done, shall we take a look at the grounds?"
"Sure."
"Yes."
We parked our bikes inside the gate and began walking through the woods along the inner perimeter of the fence. After a while, we stopped to discuss our next steps.
"I think we should clear some trees to create a bit of space before we build the earth wall along the fence. What do you two think?" I asked.
"I agree," Yuji said. "Building the wall as-is wouldn't be a problem, but we’ll need workspace for maintenance and repairs later. It’s better to have a buffer."
"I think we should clear it as well," Hiiragi-san added.
I’d noticed this while we were patching up the fence for the certification inspection: the forest grew far too close to the boundary. The previous owner, a resort development company, had likely only cleared the bare minimum required to install the fence in the first place. It made sense—clearing land cost money, so they wouldn't do it without a reason.
"We're building a fairly high earth wall, so should we clear maybe a meter or two on either side?"
"That sounds about right," Yuji replied. "If we clear the trees to ensure visibility, it’ll show that the boundary wall continues uninterrupted all the way to the edge of the property."
"Exactly. That should provide a sense of deterrence, a clear warning not to enter," Hiiragi-san said.
Yuji and I nodded. An earth wall taller than a person might keep out animals, but it wouldn't stop a determined human. High-level explorers with enhanced physical stats could clear a wall like that in a single leap. Ultimately, the fence and the wall were there to serve as a visual "refusal," a physical demonstration of the "No Trespassing" rule.
"Since we're clearly displaying our intent to refuse entry, we shouldn't be held responsible if someone ignores the signs, breaks in, and runs into trouble... right?" I asked.
"We might be questioned, but the majority of the fault would lie with the intruder," Yuji said. "They’d be sneaking into a place clearly marked as dangerous without the owner's permission."
"Yes. We might be told to upgrade our security afterward to prevent a repeat incident, but I doubt the fallout would be too severe," Hiiragi-san agreed. "They’d have to scale a double barrier to get in, after all."
There was always the possibility of a stray bullet hitting a trespasser, so we planned to plaster the fence and wall with as many "Danger" and "Keep Out" signs as possible. If a little extra effort could prevent a tragedy, it was more than worth it.
"Alright. So, we'll clear the trees first. But how should we build the earth wall? We can use Earth Magic, but we need materials."
"If we use the soil from right here, we're going to leave huge craters in the ground," Yuji pointed out. "We should probably source it from somewhere else."
"There was a small hill—or a mound, perhaps—on the property," Hiiragi-san suggested. "Let's level that and use it for materials. We can clear some flat land and get our soil at the same time."
Since the property was massive, we didn't strictly need more flat land, but sourcing materials on-site was ideal.
Yuji suddenly remembered something. "In that case, let's dig in one more spot. The documents Yuta-san gave us included geological survey data. It mentioned a spot where limestone can be found."
"Limestone?"
"It's a key ingredient for cement. Making actual cement is too complicated for individuals, but we can make something called tataki—often called Japanese concrete."
"Tataki... I think I saw them make that on a TV show once," Hiiragi-san said. "It’s less durable than a concrete wall, but it should be better than just hardening raw soil. Do you know how to make it, Hirose-kun?"
"I've been planning for this earth wall for a while, so I looked it up when I saw the survey," Yuji explained. "The basic ingredients for tataki are soil, slaked lime, nigari, and water. I'll double-check the ratios later, but essentially you mix it, tamp it down, and smooth the surface. Since we can use magic for the mining and mixing, it shouldn't be too much trouble."
According to Yuji, we could get everything right here. Soil was everywhere; the lime could be made by crushing and burning the local limestone; and nigari could be obtained by boiling down seawater.
It would take labor, but the cost was practically zero. Perfect.
"We can use Spatial Storage to transport the materials, and the rest will be good magic practice. It's better than just training aimlessly if there's a practical result," I said.
"I agree," Hiiragi-san said. "Based on our experience, mining soil and limestone shouldn't be difficult at all."
"Then it's settled. Tataki has its downsides compared to concrete, but it’s a huge step up from plain dirt. It's worth the extra effort."
I agreed with Yuji's proposal. While it added more steps to the construction, the benefits were clear. For a group like us trying to build a training ground on a budget, being able to source all our materials on-site was a godsend. If we’d tried to pave this massive area with actual concrete, I didn't even want to think about the bill.
"So, Yuji, where is this limestone?"
"The data says it’s over toward the coast. Limestone is white, so it should be easy to spot."
"Over there? I don't remember seeing anything like that..."
We left the woods and headed toward the area Yuji indicated. When we arrived, we found a large number of stones that were noticeably whiter than the rest of the terrain.
"Is this it?" I asked.
"Yeah, probably. You crush it, burn it, then add water to make slaked lime... I think."
"'You think'? Well, I guess none of us have actually done it before. Want to try a test run right now?"
"Let's do it. Daiki, can you pull out a ceramic bowl?"
Yuji picked up a piece of limestone about the size of a ping-pong ball. I produced a ceramic bowl I’d bought at a 100-yen shop from my Spatial Storage. Yuji held the stone over the bowl and slowly applied pressure with his hand, crushing it. The sound of grinding and cracking filled the air.
I could do the same thing, but it was still a bizarre sight to witness.
"Alright, is this powder fine enough? Next is the heat. Hiiragi-san, if you would."
"Certainly. I'll be careful not to make it explode... Fireball."
Hiiragi-san took the bowl of crushed limestone and placed it on the ground, enveloping it in the flames of her Fireball. We weren't sure exactly how long it needed to cook, so we gave it about ten minutes. By the end, the limestone had turned a brilliant, stark white.
It looked like the lime used to mark lines on a school sports field.
"If this worked, we have quicklime," Yuji said. "Now we add water to turn it into slaked lime. Daiki, do you have another bowl? If we pour water into this hot one, it’ll probably shatter."
"Here you go."
Yuji carefully transferred the heated lime into the fresh bowl and added a small amount of water. The powder reacted violently, and a thick plume of steam hissed upward.
It looked exactly like one of those self-heating bento boxes. I took that as a sign of success.
"The steam's stopped. Is that it?" I asked.
"Probably. Honestly, I don't really have a way to tell if it's 'correct' or not."
"We’ll just have to assume it worked for now," Hiiragi-san said.
We weren't entirely certain, but we seemed to have successfully manufactured slaked lime. With this, we had a path to sourcing our own building materials. Since we could make nigari by boiling seawater, we were all set. Being self-sufficient was a massive advantage for a project of this scale.
"So, the tataki wall is a go," I said.
"Yeah. I'm a little worried about the strength, but it’s a versatile material. Knowing we can make it is huge."
"I think I'll study some traditional Japanese architecture to see what else we can do with it," Hiiragi-san said.
Excited by our discovery, we spent the rest of the day exploring every corner of our property, talking animatedly about our plans. From here on out, we could use our skills to "magic-remodel" the place under the guise of training.
I couldn't wait to get started.