Infinite Gacha - Chapter 16

The third level of the dungeon.

The swamp is overrun with monsters such as large frogs, poisonous leeches, and mosquitoes.

There are many large and small swamps, and the footing is slippery and easily taken.

Therefore, it was recognized as a more dangerous level than levels 1 and 2.

The income earned from this level is also large, but not many adventurers can make money in this third level.

Tonight again, a party of four skilled hunters had set up their tents on the ground with a good view and were preparing to encamp.

They left the night watchman to get some sleep in preparation for tomorrow.

All of them are racial (human) and around level 50.

They are a veteran party who have hunted in the swamp many times.

They took turns taking the night shift, two by two.

In front of a blazing fire, the two night watchmen chat with each other to forget their sleepiness.

The conversation is, of course, about adventurers.

I heard that a beast race got into trouble with another race the other day," says one of the night watchmen. "I heard that the beastmen got into trouble with a racial group the other day, but the party they were up against was the Black Clowns, an up-and-coming racial party that has recently appeared on the scene, and they were no match for them. It was heartening to hear that the beast race, which is usually so domineering, was beaten to a pulp.

Subaran, the eye of the party and in charge of scouting, sips his white hot water and divulges with a hearty sense of enjoyment.

Gilbert, also on duty and in charge of the vanguard, strokes his chin with a scarred, craggy palm and asks, "What are you doing here?

What's this thing called a 'black dokey'?"

Don't you know?"　It's the hottest adventurer's party right now. A boy in a clown's mask, a golden knight, and a fairy princess have already reached the fifth level of a dungeon in just a few days.

A boy wearing a clown's mask is attacking a dungeon with a knight in golden armor and a beautiful woman who looks like a "fairy princess" from a fairy tale.

Because of the boy's clown mask, black hair and hood, they have somehow come to be called the "Black Clowns".

At this story, Gilbert turned his stinky gaze to his companions.

'Hey, hey, Sbaran, you don't have to carry him. We know in our bones that it is impossible to reach the fifth level in a few days, don't we?　If you're going to lie, be a little more realistic."

No, no, no, it's true. In fact, the Adventurers' Guild was told that a Yeti magic stone was brought into the guild. Many adventurers have actually seen them there. But how did the "black clowns" get to the fifth level?　No one seems to know how to do that. ......"

Furthermore, Subaran tells the unbelievable nature of the facts.

The boy in the clown's mask, at that age, can chant and destroy Tactics Class magic.

You said, "...... No, no, no, that's indeed a lawful thing to do. I don't care if you're an amateur magician, I won't be fooled. I've been doing this for a long time. I have at least a basic knowledge of magic.

I know how Gilbert feels. I couldn't believe my ears at first. But then I saw someone actually destroying the chanting. And not just any adventurer, but a racial magician.

Oh, that red-haired sibling's sister, Mya.

A magician by race is rare.

And even more so if it is a woman.

Miya had dropped out of a magic school due to financial problems, but she was still a magician in the eyes of adventurers.

When she first appeared in town, several racial parties approached her, but they failed miserably due to the presence of her older brothers and Miya's shyness. When she angered the sorcerers by forcefully recruiting them, they were afraid of a counterattack, and from then on no one would touch her.

She was never approached by other species because of their prejudice that "a racial sorceress would be useless anyway," and also because of their own non-negotiable line that "their pride would not allow them to bow down to a race inferior to their own.

Miya, who is famous among some of them, was apparently talking excitedly in the cafeteria.

The "Combat Class" is also a combat class, but the "Tactics Class" has destroyed the chanting of its magic.

Gilbert's throat clears from nervousness.

'...... If true, that's a hell of a story. If it's true, it's a terrible story. The guy is a genius at magic--or is he a hero, or the reincarnation of a hero?"

If this were an elf species, a demon race, or a dragon race (dragonneut) skilled in magic, it would be understandable.

However, according to the story, a race has done it.

It is said that something that "could not happen even if heaven and earth were turned upside down" in terms of common sense as an adventurer actually happened.

It would be impossible not to be surprised.

Sbaran drinks white water as if he were licking it, taking Gilbert's surprise as a sidebar.

The reincarnation of a hero, a brave man,......," he said. I hope in the future that hero or heroic person will overturn this d*mned racism. Every time something happens to us, the other species looks down on us."

'Well, it's true, ...... the discrimination against other races (us) is really bad. It even seems to be getting worse these days than it used to be.

Really?"　I feel like it's always been bad - sorry. I had a little too much to drink.

Subaran stands up, shovel in hand.

He had drunk too much white water and wanted to go to the bathroom.

Gilbert tells him teasingly.

You'd better dig a hole and bury yourself in it. I don't want to spend the night smelling your stench.

I know what I'm doing. Don't get attacked by a monster just because you're not around to hear the party.

Ha-ha-ha. Keep talking. Go on, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go.

You tell him.

The men talk foolishly but remain vigilant.

Subaran steps away from the fire and into the darkness to keep the smell from reaching him.

Even though he is among friends, he is not willing to show his face in the middle of the night. So they keep their distance and move into the darkness.

When he is far enough away, he digs a hole in the ground.

'Phew. ......'

It can be done standing up for a man.

Once done, he washed his hands in the dirt and filled the hole with a shovel.

If the hole was shallow, the smell would reach the campfire and the tent, so the more experienced the man became, the deeper he buried the hole.

Rookies, not knowing this, would fill in the holes as they saw fit and make mistakes.

When Subaran was a rookie, he failed many times and was yelled at by his colleagues. ......

Now it's not a good ...... memory. You can't call it a good memory when Gilbert's stunk so much that the encampment had to be called off."

I suddenly remembered and got angry, so I went back to the fireside to give one more sarcastic comment to Gilbert, who was sleeping in the fireplace with me.

Gilbert, whom I had just left a few minutes before, was supposed to be sitting by the fire, curled up in a ball, his huge bear-like body curled up.

But he was already gone.

What the hell?

It's impolite for a race of insects to make me wait for you.

On the ground was Gilbert's corpse, his head severed from his body.

And there was a strange elf-like man standing on the ground, stepping on it.