Even though the incident we recounted was a real event from our past, it clearly came as a massive shock to Mika and the others. Looking back, I remember it being a traumatic experience for us at the time, too. In the immediate aftermath, I hadn't fully grasped the weight of the chaos we dealt with, but with the benefit of hindsight and time to cool off, I realized just how precarious the situation had been. Up until that point, the idea of a human actually attacking us in the dungeon was something I’d only ever considered as a remote theoretical possibility.
Whether it was luck or just our typical caution, being attacked inside the dungeon meant we were already on high alert. We sensed the anomaly, scouted the surroundings, rendered first aid to the victims, and neutralized the threats with clinical efficiency. Had that happened on a normal city street, I likely would have just panicked, left unable to do anything but watch the assault unfold.
"Tatebayashi-san, Hino-san. For now, I'll leave it up to you whether you tell your parents what we just discussed, but could you tell them to give us a bit more time to think about the consulting request? To be honest, though, taking it on as a formal job is looking pretty difficult right now."
I kept my tone as gentle as possible while delivering our tentative conclusion to Tatebayashi-san and Hino-san, who were both still visibly reeling from the story.
I might think of some kind of solution eventually, but I couldn't exactly pull a compromise or an alternative out of thin air. In fact, considering our current situation, I felt the request was simply beyond our capacity. Refusing was the only realistic option. It wasn't that I intended to stop mentoring or advising them, but taking it on as a professional contract was another matter entirely.
"...I-I understand. I'll tell my parents that the proposal is still under consideration. As for whether to tell them what we just heard... I want to decide that after I’ve had a chance to talk with Suzune-chan."
"Yeah, that’s probably for the best. You’ve only just heard it, so you likely haven't processed it yet. It’s better to wait a bit before talking to others. If you try to explain it before you've digested it yourself, the conversation will probably just fall apart. It would be good for you two... no, the four of you to talk it over first."
Tatebayashi-san’s eyes darted nervously as she said she’d consult with Hino-san before talking to her parents. Seeing Mika and Saori-chan looking at them with worried eyes, I suggested they join the conversation. They were fellow active explorers and would likely be easier to talk to than us.
Besides, even though Mika and Saori-chan were trying to act composed, they seemed shaken by the account of the assailants as well. They all needed time to slowly process the weight of the profession while talking it out with peers.
"Well then, let's call it a day here. We’ll head out first, so why don't the four of you stay and talk? There might be things that are hard to say while we're around. If there's anything else you want to ask, feel free to come to us anytime."
"...Yes, thank you very much. We'll talk it over together."
"Thank you."
I signaled our departure to the four girls, who all wore complicated expressions, and the three of us stood up.
"Mika, Saori-chan—I'm sure you have a lot on your minds too, but I’d appreciate it if you could stay and talk with them. If it's just Tatebayashi-san and Hino-san, their thoughts might start spiraling into a pit of negativity. What we talked about happened in the early days, so try to tell them about how the dungeons have been lately."
"Yeah, I understand. Onii-chan's story gave us a lot to think about, too."
"Understood. Honestly, I felt like I was about to start overthinking things myself, so this is actually perfect timing."
Mika and Saori-chan readily accepted my request with slight nods.
Even for them, that story was a grim reality they needed to reconcile with if they intended to keep being explorers.
"I'll leave it to you, then. Oh, and Hashimoto-sensei, I’m sorry for dragging you into such a heavy discussion so suddenly."
"I don't mind. Listening to students' concerns is part of a teacher's job. More importantly, there are a few things I'd like to ask you three. Shall we move to another room?"
Hashimoto-sensei's gaze was sharp and unblinking, carrying an intensity that brooked no refusal as she invited us to the Consultation Room.
How did I respond?
"Yes, ma'am."
'No' wasn't exactly an option on the table.
And so, the three of us left the clubroom to talk with Hashimoto-sensei in a separate room, seen off by the four girls.
Led by Hashimoto-sensei, we first headed toward the staff room. We couldn't just use the space on a whim; we needed official permission.
For a brief moment, I held out hope that the Consultation Room would be occupied, but unfortunately, there were no reservations for today. My luck had run out.
"Well then, let's go."
While Hashimoto-sensei walked ahead with light, brisk steps, we followed behind with leaden ones. In less than five minutes, we arrived at Consultation Room 1.
"Everyone, inside."
"Excuse us."
Our school has two consultation rooms. Each is about the size of half a classroom, divided by an internal wall. In the center of the room sat a decent six-person table and facing sofas. The interior was designed for soundproofing—simple, unadorned, and functional.
Since it was built to prevent conversations from leaking out, it was the ideal place for discussing secrets you didn't want the rest of the school to hear.
"Sit anywhere."
"Yes, ma'am."
Once we were settled on the sofa, Hashimoto-sensei took the seat opposite us. She glanced at each of our faces, let out a small sigh, and began to speak with a weary expression.
"You three certainly have a knack for getting mixed up in strange situations, don't you?"
"Tell me about it. It started as a simple request to help a junior who wanted to become an explorer."
In response to her sympathetic inquiry, the three of us offered weary smiles, shrugging as we slowly shook our heads.
"Then how did it turn into a discussion about professional consulting? I've heard the gist of it, so I understand the sequence of events, but why would it escalate to business? Even if you're working as independent explorers, you're still just high school students."
"I wish I knew. Honestly, we were just as surprised when Tatebayashi-san’s parents brought up the word 'consulting.' We fully intended to support them with advice and basic training as their seniors, but... the conversation took such a weird turn that even that might be difficult now."
Refusing the consulting offer while still trying to mentor them as seniors felt awkward. Now that the idea of a professional contract had been floated, I was worried the whole relationship would become convoluted. I wondered if it would be better to stick strictly to being advisors and leave the basic martial arts instruction to an outside dojo.
"The consulting part was brought up by the parents during the discussion, right? Not the girls themselves?"
"Yes, right after we talked about explorer injuries."
"Then they likely saw Kokonoe-kun and the others working in the explorer profession without a scratch despite being the same age as their daughters, and they decided they'd be safe if they left everything to you. I suspect they wanted a guarantee. Since it’s a matter of life and death, they probably felt more comfortable with a legal contract than a verbal promise."
"So you think so too, Sensei?"
Hearing her confirm our own suspicions made us all let out a collective sigh. It would have been so much easier if we could have just kept it as seniors helping out their juniors.
"So, what do you plan to do? Based on what I heard earlier, it sounds like you're leaning toward refusing the contract."
"Ultimately, I think we have to refuse the consulting offer. But to avoid leaving any lingering resentment, I want to make sure we have a reason they can actually accept. They said it was okay to say no, but they'll still want to know why."
"True. It’s easier to move on if you're given a specific reason rather than just a flat 'no.'"
For the parents, the offer was likely a spur-of-the-moment impulse. But once the words were out, they probably needed a graceful way to back down. Some time had passed since yesterday’s meeting, so they should realize by now just how much they were asking of us.
"I agree."
"And have you thought of a reason they'll find convincing?"
"The story we told today proves we can't fully guarantee the safety they're looking for. I think that's a strong start, but it would be better to have something more... quantifiable."
"I see. To be honest, the things you told them today probably won't feel real to anyone who hasn't actually braved a dungeon themselves. It might just sound like scary stories to them."
That made sense. Even to us, that incident had felt like a freak occurrence.
In that case, the most quantifiable reason for refusal would be... money.
"The problem is, the quantifiable reason is going to sound like a lie, even though it's the absolute truth."
"Quantifiable... you mean the money? The contract fee? How could that sound like a lie?"
"The amount we'd have to charge for it to be a fair contract is going to be astronomical."
"Astronomical? You mean that hypothetical ten percent from earlier? I know it's a bit vulgar to ask, but just how much are you talking about?"
Hashimoto-sensei’s expression shifted as her eyes narrowed with a sharp, suspicious gaze. She claimed it was vulgar to ask, but her look made it clear that since she’d been dragged this deep, she wasn't letting us leave without an answer.
"Recently—and I can't go into specifics—we managed to get some high-value rare drops. Our income skyrocketed. They were incredibly rare items, and we were offered an exceptional price."
"...Based on what I've seen, I already knew you three were exceptionally skilled. If even you are calling the price 'exceptional,' it must be a massive sum."
"Yes. I won't give you the exact figures, but even if we only charged ten percent of our recent income, the fee would be in the millions of yen."
"What!?"
When I dropped the number, Hashimoto-sensei’s eyes went wide and her jaw practically hit the floor. It was the exact reaction I’d expected.
"Y-you're joking, right? You're just saying that to mess with me."
"No, unfortunately, it's the truth. You could say we were just lucky, but we secured rare drops at a time when the market was peaking and sold them. That’s all there is to it, but the timing was terrible for this consulting deal. The benchmark for our time has shot up."
"Is that... really the truth? You're not just making up an excuse to say no?"
"It’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Back when the dungeons first opened, purchase prices were high across the board, and various first drop items were being traded for similar amounts. The items we got this time are among the few that haven't been hit by the recent price drops."
They were "conditional secrecy target" drops that fetched prices similar to the legendary first drops from the very beginning.
Hashimoto-sensei stared at our faces, searching for any sign of a bluff. Once she was convinced we were telling the truth, she slumped back, collapsing powerlessly against the sofa cushions.
"S-sensei!?"
We jumped up from our seats and rushed over to her. She gave a weak wave of her hand, indicating she was still conscious.
"I-I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I'm just... a little tired."
She managed to pull herself upright, gesturing for us to sit back down. After glancing at each of us, she fixed us with a flat, unblinking stare and muttered a single question.
"Just what on earth are you children doing in that dungeon?"
Even if I told her we were always maintaining a massive safety margin, I knew she wouldn't buy it. In her mind, we were clearly doing something incredibly reckless to be hauling in that kind of money.
I suppose I couldn't blame her for thinking we were being dangerous if that was the payoff.