The Dungeon Research Society was housed in a building near the city wall. From the outside, it looked like nothing more than an old private residence. If the nameplate at the entrance hadn't read "Dungeon Research Institute," I never would have guessed this was our destination. They had likely renovated a standard home for their needs, though the grounds were far more spacious than I had imagined. It might actually be a surprisingly large organization.
"Excuse me..."
I called out as I stepped inside, entering what appeared to be a reception area.
"There’s no one here," Halfa noted, looking around.
"You're right," Spira agreed.
The two of them scanned the room curiously, but there was no sign of anyone coming to greet us. Upon closer inspection, I spotted a note left on the reception desk: 'Please proceed to the rear for all inquiries.' The reception desk was completely decorative at this point.
With no other choice, we headed deeper into the building. A short hallway led to a door, behind which I could hear the muffled sounds of voices. At the very least, we knew people were inside.
When I pushed the door open, I found myself looking into a large hall. It was filled with people in threadbare clothes, their eyes burning with a feverish intensity as they huddled in small groups, locked in debate. They truly seemed like ma—well, very dedicated researchers. They were so absorbed in their arguments that they didn't even twitch when we entered. I honestly don't think they noticed us.
As I stood there wondering how to get their attention, a man in a white lab coat who had been talking nearby finally spotted us. He approached with a cheerful, friendly smile. His most striking feature was the pointed ears poking out from his disheveled hair—a Forestfolk researcher, it seemed.
"Are you here for a tour? Please, by all means, come see our work! And perhaps you might consider a modest donation? Our mission is to strip away the mysteries of the dungeon’s mechanisms. We also conduct research specifically geared toward aiding exploration, so I’m certain you’ll find our findings beneficial."
Without waiting for a response, the man launched into a rapid-fire sales pitch. The more he talked, the more excited he became, his words tripping over one another in his haste.
"Ah, no, actually, we're looking for Pandora Gifts—"
"Oho! You have a keen eye for the unusual! We certainly have a department dedicated to the study of such dud items. Come, this way!"
I couldn't even get a word in about wanting to buy or trade for them. For a man who looked so slender—scrawny, even—his sheer momentum was overwhelming. Before I knew it, I was being led on a guided tour of the institute.
To be fair, I was genuinely curious about their research. I decided it was best to just go with the flow for now.
"Oh, Director, who are your guests?"
As we approached a group in the corner of the hall, one of the researchers spoke up. To my surprise, the man leading us around was actually the Director of the Dungeon Research Society. That was a fine revelation, until he opened his mouth again.
"These people are our esteemed patrons!" the Director declared, puffing out his chest with pride.
Wait just a minute!
I hadn't said anything of the sort!
I stared at him in shock, but he didn't look the least bit guilty. It wasn't that he was maliciously trying to trap us; he just seemed purely, innocently delighted. Honestly, that made it even harder to deal with.
I didn't mind providing some funding if the research was actually useful, but I hadn't even heard a summary yet. At the very least, I wished he had called us "potential patrons." I wanted to correct him, but I didn't have the heart to rain on the parade of the researchers, who were now erupting with cheers. I figured if they had anything interesting to show, I’d just hand over a little cash to smooth things over.
The researchers began vying for my attention, each desperate to pitch their own projects. Most of them focused on ways to utilize dud items. While many of the ideas were underwhelming, a few were actually quite clever.
The one that caught my eye was an attempt to artificially generate a dungeon using a Pandora Gift. Since opening a Pandora Gift randomly generates an item, it stands to reason that the process requires some kind of source energy. The researchers had hypothesized that this energy was the very force that composes a dungeon—what they called "Dungeon Power." Based on their description, this was almost certainly what we referred to as Malice.
Working on the theory that Pandora Gifts create items using the Malice stored within them, the researchers wondered if that energy could be redirected. Their ultimate goal was to create an artificial dungeon. By "create," they meant a rather crude plan of extracting a massive amount of Malice and flooding a specific area with it until it underwent dungeonification.
Since dungeons provide an infinite supply of resources, successfully creating a beneficial one would yield immeasurable profit. Of course, they hadn't had much luck yet. They lacked a reliable way to detect Malice in a tangible form, so they weren't even sure if they were successfully harvesting the energy from the Pandora Gifts without opening them.
Regardless of whether it was practical, the theory was fascinating. As I listened, a thought struck me. I actually knew a few tricks for using dud items myself. I figured it wouldn't hurt to share.
First, I explained a use for the 'Guardian's Charm.' Usually, the person who uses the charm takes all the damage occurring in the vicinity. However, by forcibly thrusting the charm onto a monster, you can effectively kill a high-rank creature by proxy. The society had considered this, but they had hit a dead end because the charm wouldn't leave the user's hand once activated. When I proposed using a Storage Ring to force the transfer of ownership, a wave of impressed murmurs rippled through the room. The reaction was excellent.
Their response to my trick for the 'Gambler's Staff' was even better. I explained how it could be used as a remote explosive; since it only required the staff and a distant means of ignition, they loved how easy it would be to implement.
When I finished my explanation, the researchers broke into a thunderous round of applause. It felt good, but... I also felt like I might have overdone it. The looks they were giving me were uncomfortably passionate. That definitely looked like reverence.
As I stood there, feeling awkward, the Director approached me with a look of profound respect.
"What extraordinary insight. I must say, I am truly humbled. Oh, I realize I haven't even asked your name. I am Valdona."
"Ah, I'm Tort."
"I see. Then, Comrade Tort... I hereby officially designate you an Honorary Researcher of this institute! Please, continue to strive for the further refinement of our collective knowledge!"
C-Comrade?!
And just like that, I had been turned into an Honorary Researcher.
All because I couldn't keep my mouth shut...