Oh, right, I forgot about that. When the game’s service first began, there were a lot of useful methods for obtaining money and items efficiently, such as limited-time dungeons that changed daily. These methods weren’t able to keep up with the eventual currency inflation, however, so the dungeons ended up not providing as good rewards as the usual events. I’m pretty sure people stopped doing them in their dailies in the end. One could see the symbols for them on their screens, but no one paid attention to them anymore. I remember them becoming some sad, unengaged aspect of the game.
“The difficulty levels for drop dungeons vary, but this one seems to have a Recommended Level of 70, I think,” Ms. Kaori continued.
“A Recommended Level of 70? I don’t remember the devs ever implementing a drop dungeon harder than that.”
“Yeah. And in this world, they’re unnecessarily long. All that happens in them is high-level monsters are spit out at you with no worthwhile rewards.”
“I see what you’re getting at. The Crimson Moon Brigade has been tasked with taking care of it, right?”
“Nope, not quite. We’ve just been asked to help out with it. It seems to be some sort of test to see how prepared we are to fight alongside them. We’re apparently going to be completing the dungeon with the least number of people possible in order to minimize risk.”
My head was suddenly filled with questions. If the Recommended Level was only 70, then there shouldn’t be an issue getting through it. The only possible danger was unlucky things happening one after the other, in which case even level 99 players could face death. If that’s what she meant by minimizing risk, then I understood.
“If you’re trying to minimize the risk and have as few people die as possible, then wouldn’t it be better to have more people around?”
“No, accidents rarely occur in drop dungeons. That’s why it’s so bothersome when they pop up. Going with just a few people is the most logical, by-the-book decision.”
“What do you mean by ‘accidents’?”
She sighed. “The phenomenon known as ‘black drops.’ The Brigade once lost ten people to one. That’s what makes these dungeons the best place to test one’s resolve in.”
To sum up what Ms. Kaori was telling me, the players—who had obtained godlike powers and didn’t age—feared the word “death” more than anything else. Had they been living for several thousand years, they might have gotten bored of life. But at the current point in time, it had only been four centuries. Living for so long had given them strong attachments to their lives. Those who’d been reincarnated into this world at low levels weren’t too concerned with leveling up for this reason either. Most only got up to around level 50, just enough to where the natives couldn’t rebel against them. They stayed within that safe margin, only progressing little by little. To make things worse, the Agartha event had been teased to them ever since they’d been reincarnated, with hints that the Clan Coins were their methods to go home. It was only natural that they’d all stay alive with that as their hope.
But the “black drop phenomenon,” huh? I’d heard of that too. The forums had once been abuzz with rumors of it, though proof had never been found. In the game, the daily drop dungeons shone white out on the field. It was rumored that one day, a player tapped on the drop dungeon to try to enter it when something terrible happened. At about 4 a.m., random text suddenly engulfed their entire screen, and they ended up in an unknown, bugged-out world. It seemed to be ruins constructed of discarded data, with a ton of ghost-type monsters floating around it. The player got so scared, they forced the game to shut down.
There was a catch to this story, however. This had been right before the typical daily maintenance time for the game, and the next event slated was one where ghost monsters would appear, so everyone just assumed that the player had simply encountered a bug while the game data was being updated, allowing them to see the monsters prematurely. No one thought any more of it after that. And in truth, that was probably what had actually happened.
But in this world, that same bug caused something horrible to occur. Ms. Kaori described it as “monster data from the newest event from before we were reincarnated being applied.” Unluckily for the guild, that event was being used in evil ways. The attack team they’d sent to investigate the dungeon had their guards down and were mostly wiped out by monsters that possessed both instadeath magic and skills. The few that managed to scramble away alerted the Brigade of the experience, causing the phrase “drop dungeon” to become a source of fear for the players as a whole.
Needless to say, the chances of a bug occurring were exceedingly low. Most of the time the players would be fine, but the possibility of them putting their lives on the line alone was enough to make the dungeon taboo among them.
“I see... I think I understand the circumstances now.”
“No matter how slim the chance might be, no one wants to attempt it—no matter how much they want to gather up the rewards. It’s been a source of pain for us, since among the five grand guilds, whenever a drop dungeon pops up, one gets forcefully designated to take care of it.”
“Can’t blame them. Anyone would decline, even if the danger is only less than one percent.”
“By the same coin, participating is a surefire way to prove one’s loyalty to an alliance.”
“You’re going to use me as your trump card against the black drop phenomenon, right? At my level, I wouldn’t die so long as I equipped myself with measures to combat the instadeath moves.”
“I’ll be accompanying you.”
“Would it be bad for me to go alone?”
“Dragon’s Roar is specifically asking me to prove my resolve. It wouldn’t do us any good if I didn’t go.”
Well, she’s right about that. I personally didn’t want her to be put in danger, but there was nothing I could do.
“And so, Shinobu, I have a request for you regarding the dungeon.”
“And what would that be?”
“If the black drop phenomenon doesn’t happen, it’s just a normal dungeon. I would like you to pretend to be a normal level 99 player.”
“I don’t quite understand what you’re getting at. What do you mean?”
Ms. Kaori looked a bit melancholic for a second, then looked at me with a strong will in her eyes. “I’ll preface it with this: it’s just me being selfish. I want to believe in humanity.”
What was she trying to say? I decided to stay quiet and match her serious expression.
“The core of this alliance,” she stated, “is our shared animosity toward Mr. Imabayashi’s evildoing.”
“Yes, I understand that part.”
“If you show them your abilities up close, Dragon’s Roar will be blinded by them, with that being their only reason for joining the alliance. It may be stupid of me to hyperfocus on this, but I want to be able to speak with them on equal terms as humans, instead of threatening them with our combat prowess. I believe this is possible with them. It’s important to me.”
Her honesty glittered brightly in her eyes. While I definitely thought she was being idealistic, I found it comforting.
“Understood. I’ll do as you say, then.”
Her nod let me know she was satisfied with that response. She dropped her eyes downward and began fidgeting. “And...Shinobu? Sorry to change the subject so suddenly, but I want to know how you feel. Isn’t it about time you answer me?”
Her cheeks were flushed. It would’ve been strange for me to not understand what she was referring to when she was gazing up at me so alluringly.