In response to Hakamada’s demand for confidentiality, we all closed our eyes for a moment and looked up at the ceiling. The only thought echoing in our minds was a single phrase: I knew it. It was a development we had already fully anticipated.
After a brief, heavy silence filled the room, we turned back toward Hakamada. Yuji spoke up as our representative.
"Well, we certainly understand that this is an extraordinary item. If you say it’s confidential, we won’t go around talking about it. But... if the irregular phenomenon itself is also under a gag order, wouldn't that put other explorers at risk? They might encounter that thing without any warning."
"Yes, quite... but there is something else I must ask you to keep confidential. The truth is, while it hasn't been made public, this phenomenon—the appearance of high-ranking species of ogre—has actually been confirmed several times already."
"What?"
"Well, that is the expected reaction, I suppose."
At Hakamada’s confession, delivered with a troubled expression and a furrowed brow, we cried out in surprise, wearing expressions of sheer astonishment. This reaction was something we had decided on beforehand: "Let's act shocked if he says that." It would have been strange if we reacted like we already knew, or if we stayed perfectly calm and didn't react at all.
I wasn't sure if our acting was convincing enough to fool someone as experienced as the head of this branch, but since he didn't immediately press us on it, I’ll count it as a success for now.
"The truth is, the first report of this irregular phenomenon that we recorded came from a Self-Defense Forces exploration team."
"The Self-Defense Forces? In that case..."
"Yes. Considering the rarity of the drop items from high-ranking species, the government classified it as internal confidential information with certain conditions, prohibiting its disclosure to the general public."
"..."
At Hakamada’s words, we looked up at the ceiling once again. Our bad premonitions were coming true one after another. If it was "conditional" classified information, then the condition for its release was likely something like "until a report of the irregular phenomenon is received from a civilian explorer."
And we were the ones who had just made that report and satisfied the condition.
"Now that a case fulfilling those release conditions has occurred—specifically, your report of discovering the irregular phenomenon and the confirmation of mithril as evidence—I will be filing a report with headquarters. Please expect it to take at least half a month, or a full month at most, for a final decision on how to proceed. A plan for information disclosure was already partially decided in advance, but it takes time to get official authorization and put it into practice."
"...Understood. If that's the case, we have nothing more to say on the matter. For our part, we’ll feel much better once the information about the high-ranking species is made public. If other explorers were to get hurt before then, it would weigh heavily on our consciences."
"That is understandable. I will convey that sentiment to the higher-ups."
"Please do. Also, there's one more thing we’d like you to promise us, if possible..."
If the government and the Dungeon Association already had a plan in place, there was no reason for us to interfere further. After all, what kind of influence could ordinary explorers have on a government matter?
However, this next request was a non-negotiable condition. It would affect whether or not we could continue living peaceful lives.
"What would that be?"
"Could you please keep the fact that we were the first civilian explorers to report this irregular phenomenon a secret? I have a feeling that being the first discoverers in this kind of situation only leads to trouble."
"I’d like to ask for that as well," Yuji added. "If our names are made public, people will probably dog us relentlessly for info, or spread all sorts of rumors. That wouldn't just be a problem for us; it would cause trouble for everyone around us."
"I'm asking as well," Hiiragi-san said. "My family runs a restaurant. I’d rather not have a surge of troublesome visitors who aren't even customers because of me..."
Hakamada looked surprised by our expressions, which were clouded with genuine distaste as we radiated an aura of adamant refusal. Then, he gave a light nod with a wry smile.
"Indeed, your concerns are quite plausible. Very well. When I report to the top, I will mention that the reporters wish to remain anonymous. From the government’s perspective, it’s actually more convenient for their prestige if the news of the high-ranking species' discovery comes from the state-affiliated Self-Defense Forces rather than from civilian explorers. However, in that case, you will lose the fame of being the first discoverers. You're giving up a chance to become famous—are you sure you're okay with that?"
"Becoming famous isn't always a good thing."
"Fortunately, we don't make a living by posting our activities on SNS or video sites," Yuji noted. "So we think the title of 'first discoverer' carries more disadvantages than advantages."
"I don't want to be famous, so I don't need the title."
Hearing our answers, Hakamada let out a small sigh, nodded, and gave his consent.
"Understood. I will negotiate with the higher-ups to avoid making your names public. However, please understand that for the sake of documentation, your names will be recorded in internal files, even if they aren't released to the public."
"That... well, it can't be helped. As long as it isn't released to the general public, we don't have a problem with it."
"Then I will make the arrangements."
Since Hakamada took over the negotiations, we breathed a sigh of relief, glad that we might manage to avoid any major trouble.
As for the irregular phenomenon regarding the high-ranking ogres, the conversation concluded with us waiting for the higher-ups to decide on their response. We had only reported it because we didn't want to feel guilty if something happened while we stayed silent, so as long as they handled it in some way, we were satisfied.
Of course, we still wanted to prevent our names from being published as the discoverers. Since Hakamada had agreed to prevent the disclosure, it should be fine.
"Now then, regarding the response to the irregular phenomenon, we shall proceed as we just discussed. I would also like to talk about the matter of the mithril."
"Oh, right. There was that too."
"Yes. As I mentioned before, although it has not been publicly announced, mithril is a semi-designated critical substance. Currently, the production volume is extremely low, and there is an agreement that basically all such drop items are to be purchased by the state."
"I've heard the name often in games and such, but this is the first time in my entire career as an explorer that I've seen the real thing," Yuji said. "In terms of rarity, it must be far higher than the skill scrolls that drop every now and then."
Hakamada nodded slightly at Yuji’s comment and began to explain the metal's rarity.
"The vast majority of mithril discovered so far has been from 'first drops'—the bonus items dropped the very first time a dungeon floor is cleared. Other than that, it only drops rarely during irregular phenomena like the one you reported today. Since the irregular phenomenon itself occurs quite infrequently, the acquisition rate is incredibly low."
"So it's a rare drop from a rare phenomenon... That means it's an item you can only get with a remarkably low probability."
"Yes. Because of that, I hear the Self-Defense Forces have even formed a specialized gathering team, but their results haven't been very favorable. So, as you might have guessed, this is a very rare item."
"I see. So this is it..."
At those words, our eyes were drawn to the object sitting on the desk in front of Hakamada. It was just a small lump of metal; it didn't look like something with enough value to warrant the formation of a specialized gathering team.
But in reality, it was a rarity designated as a semi-designated critical substance.
"Therefore, would you be willing to sell this item to us—the Dungeon Association?"
"Well, we don't really have a use for a lump of metal like this even if we took it home, so we have no problem cashing it in. Besides, I feel like it would be pretty dangerous for us to keep holding onto it. Negotiations for money aside, we might end up victims of a home invasion or even blackmail..."
"Given its rarity, that possibility isn't out of the question. It’s a rare item not just domestically, but internationally as well..."
"In that case, it’s probably best not to keep it ourselves. Selling it to the Association is the best move for us. And preferably in secret."
As it stood, mithril was so valuable that it would be nothing but a burden to own. It was one thing for a public institution like the government to possess it, but it was far too heavy a load for an individual to carry—especially for ordinary citizens, even if they were explorers.
In short, the best thing to do was to part with it before the fact that we had it became known.
"Understood. As I said before, please understand that while it won't be made public, your names will be recorded in internal documents for paperwork purposes."
"Thank you for your consideration. We're fine with that."
"Then I will proceed with the procedures. Now, as for the appraisal value for this..."
Hakamada pulled a memo pad from his pocket, wrote something on it, and held the open page out toward us. We paused for a beat before peering at the memo pad with tense expressions.
What Hakamada had written was the price per gram of mithril, the total weight of the sample we had submitted, and the purchase price based on those figures.
"Two hundred thousand yen... per gram?"
"And the total weight is 100 grams, so..."
"Even though it's just this tiny bit, it's 20 million yen..."
Our expressions cramped at the unexpected figure. We had anticipated a decent sum since it was a rare drop, but the appraisal value was staggering.
We had expected it to be a few times the price of gold at worst, and perhaps ten times at best... but this had far exceeded our expectations.
"This is the appraisal value at the current stage. Once the existence of the irregular phenomenon and the high-ranking species is made public, civilian dungeon enterprises and others will likely challenge them, which will increase the production of mithril and cause the purchase price to drop. Of course, there is also the possibility that the demand for mithril’s use will increase and the price will go up."
"...I suppose the price would go down if production increases, but it's a rare drop to begin with. Will the price really drop that much?"
"At this stage, production is so low that there's only demand for research materials and special purposes. Even if the information is made public, I don't think we can expect enough production to meet civilian demand. Therefore, as long as a stable source of supply cannot be secured, consumer goods using mithril won't hit the market. I don't think there will be a rapid increase in demand in the short term. Even if demand grows years from now, the number of people capable of gathering it will have increased by then, and perhaps another large-scale supply method will have been found."
"I see..."
As we listened to Hakamada talk about the future of mithril, we recalled the sight of the rocky terrain stretching across the 50th floor that we had seen during summer vacation. Could the "large-scale supply method" the Dungeon Association and the government were thinking of be...? No, let's not think about that right now.
The conversation was finally wrapping up smoothly; there was no need to throw in any unnecessary sparks.
"So, what do you think? Would it be possible for you to let us have it at this appraisal value?"
"Oh, yes. We'll go with that. You two are okay with it too, right?"
"Yeah."
"Yes, no problem."
At Hakamada’s confirmation, we nodded in agreement. Because of the irregular phenomenon, we had cut our dungeon exploration short today and hadn't earned much, but this was a complete reversal. We had ended up earning several times more in a shorter amount of time than we would have during a normal run.
After confirming our agreement, Hakamada wore a satisfied smile and spoke while giving a light bow.
"Thank you very much. I will prepare the documents for the purchase procedure, so please wait a moment."
"Understood. Thank you."
Hakamada gave a light bow and left the room, this time leaving the mithril behind. We felt the tension leave our shoulders, relieved that the report and the sale had proceeded with unexpected smoothness, rather than turning into a conflict.
About fifteen minutes later, Hakamada returned to the room with documents in hand. After we confirmed the contents and signed them, the handover of the mithril was complete. Seen off by Hakamada, who reminded us once more to keep everything confidential just in case, we left the Consultation Room.
For a private citizen to own mithril at this stage... it’s simply too much of a burden.