"Glen—"
"You're late."
"—Whoa!"
When I finally finished retrieving the inheritance and stepped back outside, I found Glen standing before a literal mountain of undead he had piled up in front of the Grave Slimes.
"These things just keep coming no matter how many I crush. It’s endless. Lend me that room from yesterday and that thing that washes your body."
He was drenched in blood, mostly centered around his fists, looking like an extra from a slasher flick. I didn't even need to ask to know he was miserable. For the sake of a calm conversation, I decided to let him freshen up first.
"That’s better. I finally feel like I can breathe again."
"You were soaked in blood, after all..."
"Tell me about it. But why the hell are there so many undead in a place like this?"
Since the infestation was likely the work of a specific monster, I gave him a brief explanation.
"There’s a monster that’s been nesting in the manor at the center of the village for a long time. It has the ability to spawn undead. Dealing with that creature is one of the reasons I came here."
"Ho. So this is a battle to avenge the villagers?"
"No, I wasn't particularly close to them. It's more like I’m doing a bit of cleaning while I’m here to collect my inheritance. I also want to harvest some of the plants around here, and it would be even better if I could maintain the house and use it as a base in the future."
"Which means I’m going to have to keep punching zombies..."
Glen scowled with blatant distaste, likely recalling his gore-slicked state from moments ago.
"Oh, that reminds me. I found something just a little while ago."
I pulled a weapon I had found during the retrieval out of my Item Box. It was a hammer a size larger than the one Glen had been carrying, possessing a dull, pitch-black luster. When I first saw it, I felt a certain aura from it—a sense of craftsmanship similar to the katanas my old man used to forge.
Strictly speaking, all the weapons in the basement exuded a decent presence, but this hammer was in a class of its own. I didn't personally use heavy weapons, and frankly, if he ended up covered in rot every time he fought, I was going to worry about the hygiene of the whole camp.
"I thought you might want to try using this as a replacement for your broken hammer, Glen."
Even if it turned out to be poor quality, it had to be better than punching undead with his bare hands. Since he had ended up coming along anyway, I didn't mind lending it to him if it meant he’d help with the subjugation. As I presented it, Glen seemed to feel something from it too. With a solemn expression, he gripped the handle of the hammer where it stood on the ground and hoisted it up.
His movements were a bit slower than before, but he gave it a few test swings with both hands, then one, alternating between light movements and powerful strikes. He swung it several times as if gauging its balance. Finally, he turned toward a nearby Heat-Radiating Tree and brought it down with everything he had.
"Hmph!"
The wall-like trunk shattered, and a massive crater was carved into the wood.
"Is your power just that incredible, Glen, or is the Heat-Radiating Tree incredible for not falling... No, wait, it’s going to—"
The thought that it would break again flashed through my mind and then vanished. Through the dust dancing in the dim light, I saw Glen’s wide grin and the hammer, still perfectly intact in his hands.
"It withstood that impact?"
"Hey! This thing is incredible! Where the hell did you get it?"
"I told you, it was in this house. It was part of my grandparents' inheritance."
"Inheritance? Just what kind of people were your grandpa and grandma to own something like this... This is Adamantite, isn't it?"
"You can tell?"
"If you're making a heavy striking weapon, Adamantite is just about the best material there is. Even I know that much. Besides, my old weapon used it too."
Glen pulled a broken hammer out of his pouch with one hand. When I looked closely, the metal was indeed very similar. Perhaps the color was just slightly different.
"The color difference is probably a matter of purity. The guy at the weapon shop where I order these said that Adamantite is so hard and tough that it's nearly impossible to process on its own. They usually mix it with iron or other metals just to make it workable. My hammer was supposed to be the highest purity possible—the shop's master craftsman swore there wasn't a better weapon in existence. I didn't think he was lying, but... well, this one is definitely purer, isn't it?"
Even if he asked me, I didn't have a solid answer. But if his theory held true, then this hammer from the inheritance was made of a high-purity Adamantite that exceeded standard commercial limits.
This was starting to look like it might become a seed for more trouble than I’d anticipated.
"Glen, do you want that hammer?"
"Huh? Well, obviously I want it, but it’s a memento from your grandparents."
"If you'll keep its origins a secret, I'll give it to you. Like I said, I don't use heavy weapons. It’s not that I couldn't use it if I forced myself, but I’d be far from mastering it, and that would be a waste of a good tool."
It was better for a weapon to be in the hands of someone who needed it and could actually use it properly. That was especially true for something of this caliber. In that regard, Glen's strength was beyond reproach.
"Hmm... well, I know there are plenty of vultures who would harass me if they saw a weapon this good, so I get why you want to keep it quiet. I'm not the type to turn down a gift, so if you're offering, I’ll take it. But it feels like a bit too much for just hush money... Alright!"
Glen pulled another broken hammer out of his pouch—the one he’d been using before he broke the spare in front of me the other day.
"For now, I'll give you these two in exchange."
Apparently, Glen’s hammers were custom-made, top-of-the-line items from a high-end shop in the Royal Capital. As he’d mentioned, the material was standard high-purity Adamantite. However, since it still couldn't withstand his full power, they had supplemented its strength by building magic tools into the handle to reinforce the head.
Since Adamantite doesn't conduct mana well, it’s difficult to turn it into a proper magic weapon, so the protection took the form of a mana coating. That required using rare metals like Mithril, so even though they were broken as weapons, they were still incredibly valuable lumps of rare ore.
Furthermore,
"It's not just the materials. If you sell these to a noble, the price will skyrocket because they’re 'weapons pushed to the limit and shattered by an S-Rank.' The weapon shop told me that if I bring the broken ones back, they’ll give me the next one for free and even pay me a bonus. It’s that profitable for them. If you want, I'll even sign them for you."
So "collector's value" existed in this world too. His behavior was chaotic, but he really was a famous figure.
"Also, let's see... I can't think of anything else right now, so I'll help you out for free once whenever you're in a real bind."
"Is it alright to treat that as a formal request?"
"Yeah. I don't usually take jobs I'm not interested in, even for nobles. I might consider it if the pay is ridiculous, but if I get to keep this hammer, I'll give your request top priority. Of course, this is separate from the undead hunting we’re doing here. Letting me use that bath is help enough; I'm not so stingy that I'd call this the one time. Oh, but nothing that involves using my brain or things I physically can't do."
I didn't have any pressing matters to request at the moment, but getting a free "priority pass" from an S-Rank Adventurer wasn't a bad trade at all. Having a man of his stature owe me a favor could be a lifesaver in the future.
"Very well. I’ll give you the hammer under those conditions. I don't have a request for now, but I ask that you please keep the source a secret."
"Right. I’ve done enough work as an S-Rank to know how to keep my mouth shut. There’s a secret or two I’ve been told to carry. ...Still, what do I say if someone asks? There are plenty of busybodies who’ll see me with an unfamiliar weapon and try to sniff out where it came from. At the very least, my regular weapon shop is probably already working on my next hammer. If I don't show up to buy it, they’ll come looking for me. They'll definitely notice if I’m swinging something else. I won't talk, but I’m not exactly a master of lies."
"If a masterpiece that surpasses their own work suddenly appears in the hands of their best customer, they’ll certainly be curious. In that case, just tell them you 'found it in the Sea of Trees.'"
The Sea of Trees had a long history of people venturing inside in search of wealth or fame. It wouldn't be strange for high-quality gear to be lying around, and since this was actually found in a ruined village house, it wasn't a total lie.
"Got it. I'll tell them that if anyone asks."
"Please do. Now that we’ve settled that, shall we have dinner? The real hunting starts tomorrow."
"Sounds good! You still got that meat from yesterday?"
"Given the size of that thing, there’s plenty left."
And so, it was time to cook. Since the soup was a retort pouch, I just had to put it in a pot and set it over the fire. Next, I took out a barrel I had prepared after dinner last night and two large pots I had fashioned with alchemy.
"Oh, fried food!"
He noticed the moment I filled the pots with oil. As you might have guessed, tonight's dish was Immortal Snake Karaage. The barrel contained snake meat that had been marinating for a full day in a trial sauce made from seasonings and Shirozake lees.
Once the oil was hot enough to make bubbles dance around my chopsticks, I tossed in the coated meat. The pieces took on a light golden hue as they swam in the crackling oil. I pulled them out to rest for a moment before giving them a second fry in the other pot to ensure they were perfectly crisp.
"Hey, isn't that ready yet?"
Ignoring Glen as he stared hungrily at the pot, I sliced up some Ramon for the garnish. The debate over lemon on karaage is eternal, but personally, I like it both ways. In fact, the more variety, the better.
So, I added one more flavor. I put out a sauce I’d prepared the night before—a tartar sauce made with Clever Chicken eggs, vinegar, and minced onions. Combined with the karaage, it was essentially chicken nanban-style.
I piled the crispy karaage onto a large plate and served it with the Ramon and tartar sauce. As I took a piece for a taste test, Glen’s massive hand reached out immediately.
"Haff!"
The meat was scorching hot, but a rich umami exploded in my mouth alongside the savory oil. The crunch of the coating and the springy texture of the meat made for an incredible combination.
"So good... is this really the same meat as yesterday? That was great, but it felt like just 'meat.' This is... I don't know what it is, but it's delicious."
"Yesterday was just grilled. It’s impressive it was that good on its own, but today I used a few tricks with the seasonings and marinated it to make it tender."
Even so, the Immortal Snake’s flavor didn't get buried by the spices. It was a light meat, yet it left such a strong impression that I felt I could have seasoned it even more heavily. And more than anything, it made me crave rice.
"Hot Water."
I used magic to produce hot water and poured it into a pack of my new preserved food. It was freeze-dried rice that had been cooked once before being dried out. It went by many names—Hoshii in the old days, Alpha-rice in the modern age—and it was a staple for travel or emergencies.
Since you could have warm rice just by adding water and waiting, it was incredibly convenient. Seeing the look in Glen’s eyes, I prepared a double portion and kept frying more karaage while we waited. Glen didn't stop eating for a second, having already broken into yesterday’s Shirozake.
"Glen, the soup is easy, so just warm it up and help yourself."
"Yeah, I can manage that much. More importantly, keep the karaage coming! And do we have more of this sauce?"
He answered without pausing his hands or his mouth. The fried meat disappeared the moment I put it on the plate, and there seemed to be no end in sight, but seeing him eat with such gusto made me feel good as the chef. I could finally understand why competitive eating shows were a thing.
Watching him made me want to drink something too.
"If I'm eating karaage and rice..."
First, I took some alcohol I’d extracted with alchemy from one of the Goblins' failed Shirozake batches. It was originally meant for disinfection, but since I hadn't added any nasty chemicals to it, it was perfectly safe to drink.
"Freeze the glass... Sparkling Water... There!"
By combining water and wind attributes, I successfully generated carbonated water. I added a bit of the extracted alcohol and a squeeze of Ramon to create a "Ramon Sour"—a makeshift lemon sour.
I took a sip. Because the alcohol was pure extract, it lacked the character of whiskey or shochu, making it taste a bit thin. To be honest, it tasted "cheap."
But that was exactly what I wanted. I popped a piece of hot karaage into my mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Then, I washed away the lingering oil with the thin, crisp Ramon Sour. The scent of Ramon and a hint of alcohol cleared my palate, making me reach for the next piece.
"Phew..."
Back in my college days, when I was broke and going to cheap izakayas with friends, it felt exactly like this. Even after I grew up, my tastes didn't change much. If anything, having this snake meat made right now feel far more luxurious.
And I couldn't forget the rice. Once that was added to the mix, the infinite loop of karaage, Ramon Sour, and rice began. It was greasy, salty, and probably terrible for my health, but it was cheap and delicious.
"Hey, what's that combination you've got there?"
"I figured you’d notice."
I handed Glen some rice and a Ramon Sour along with the next batch of karaage, and he was instantly hooked. His hands and mouth went back into overdrive. When my frying speed finally failed to keep up with his appetite, he paused to look at the bottle of extracted alcohol.
"I never liked booze that just burns your throat, but drinking it like this isn't half bad."
"Do you not usually drink cocktails or mixed drinks?"
"It's not that I'm against it, but most Dwarves believe that adding anything to alcohol is a sin. My old man was like that, so I just never really tried it. I usually prefer the strong stuff anyway, and I never found a mixed drink that actually tasted good until now."
"Well, everyone has their own preferences... Wait, did you just say you were a Dwarf, Glen?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Dwarves vary in size, but maybe because of my constitution, I ended up bigger than most humans. Eating this much probably helped me grow this big, too. Almost nobody figures out I'm a Dwarf at first glance."
"Now that you mention it... your height aside, the thickness of your arms and torso, and the overall balance of your build does look more like a Dwarf's."
If you took a photo of a Dwarf and enlarged it on a computer, they’d probably look exactly like Glen.
"Forget that, more karaage! And give me more rice and that drink! You can have whatever monster materials you want from my share!"
"Karaage and Ramon Sour, coming right up!"
Yesterday was a yakiniku party, but tonight felt like a rowdy izakaya. It genuinely made me nostalgic for my old part-time job, and I couldn't help but smile as I kept the oil bubbling.