Chapter 3
MIRA TOOK ADVANTAGE of a post-ordering break in the conversation to change the subject. “So…I hear you’re the leading authority when it comes to Fuzzy Dice,” she told Chief Detective Wolf. “Mind if I ask a few questions?”
Once she’d finally broached the subject that she’d come to talk about, the chief detective leaned forward as if ready and waiting. “Sure. Ask me whatever you like.”
“To start, I want to ask about Fuzzy Dice’s abilities. Do you have any idea just how powerful he is?”
Her first question about her opponent’s strength was also the most important. It was prompted by the events of the day before yesterday. Imprisoned in an underground chamber below a baron’s estate, she’d run into a certain half-naked man whose face had been masked with a cute towel. Judging from the man’s actions and the situation, Mira firmly suspected that he was the phantom thief himself. His abilities were no joke; it had immediately been clear that he was extremely skilled.
That said, Mira hadn’t been able to observe him for long. The chief detective, on the other hand, had a long history of facing off against Fuzzy Dice in person. That meant he should be able to give Mira more information on the thief, which she could use to analyze his fighting capabilities.
“How powerful, eh…? All I can really tell you is that he’s unimaginably powerful.”
That wasn’t very helpful. Mira guessed that Wolf had faced off against Fuzzy Dice countless times, yet he didn’t seem to know the limits of the thief’s power.
In the past, despite having been surrounded by dozens of A-rank adventurers, Fuzzy Dice had apparently managed to not only break easily through their ranks but also put them all to sleep. The chief detective laughed dryly that, whenever he and Fuzzy Dice had faced off since then, he had awoken and realized he’d been put to sleep. It didn’t matter what plan he created; he always ended up completely unconscious.
“That’s why I can’t tell you how powerful he is. I honestly have no idea,” the chief detective concluded. He was claiming that since he’d never crossed blades with Fuzzy Dice, or battled him properly, he really had no way of knowing such a thing.
“I see.”
Fuzzy Dice always managed to break through crowds of guards to steal whatever he was after, but he seemingly had little skill in combat. In other words, his real strength was whatever he used to knock people out. The question now was how exactly he did that.
“Say…does Fuzzy Dice happen to be a demonologist?” Mira asked.
There were several ways to put people to sleep, including drugs, tools, and skills. Of those, Mira suspected that demonology was the kind of magic used by the perverted-looking, towel-wearing hero whom she suspected was Fuzzy Dice.
“Wow… So you seem to think so as well, Miss Mira,” the chief detective remarked with delight. He continued immediately, “Would you like to know how I came to that conclusion?”
Before being knocked out, he explained, he always saw white mist. It had occurred to him that he ought to purposely inhale as much mist as he could to create a drug to resist its effects.
“Once we awoke, my assistant and I were examined by a proper medical team.”
However, the team couldn’t detect that any drugs had been used. There were seemingly no remnants of tranquilizers. Since Wolf and his assistant had been checked out immediately after being revived, and the medics hadn’t detected anything, they concluded that only certain plants or monsters could’ve induced the effect. In short, the mist wasn’t a drug or a poison.
Speaking more fervently, Wolf continued that this could only mean that Fuzzy Dice knocked people out via some sort of status ailment. “To follow that lead, I bought this book. It was published in the so-called Land of Mages, famous for containing the continent’s largest magical institution, the Linked Silver Towers.”
As he spoke, the chief detective reached into the bag by his side and pulled out a single book. It was extravagantly—and sturdily—bound and was so massive that it looked like it could be used as a bludgeon. The Definitive Guide to Status-Ailment-Inflicting Skills was written across the cover.
“This book’s fantastic! It breaks down everything in a way that even someone like me, a non-mage, understands. These explanations substantiated my experiment. It’s fair to say that the book’s full of great wisdom. It certainly wasn’t cheap—it cost over three million ducats. But it was worth every cent!”
An ambiguous expression passed over Mira’s face as she looked at the book the chief detective had just thumped onto the table. Its title was reminiscent of a series of experiments she’d helped conduct quite a few times in the past.
So…they made those into a book? And, on top of that, it costs three million ducats?!
During the experiments, they’d used various skills to induce status abnormalities such as paralysis, poisoning, sleep, confusion, and so on. They’d done the same for other status abnormalities such as “burn” and “bleed,” which often occurred as side effects.
Furthermore, while the book’s title only mentioned skills, it was an incredibly ambitious work that covered everything from demons and spirits, magic and divine beasts, to what kind of magic was best to seal away devils.
Mira couldn’t help thinking about how, despite having collaborated so extensively on that project, she wouldn’t see a cut of the profits. Still, as she reflected on her past, she also picked up on what the chief detective was saying.
“Fuzzy Dice’s technique most likely produces a toxin from modified mana. The active effect expires beyond a time limit, and the toxin leaves the body, turning back into mana. Or something like that…” she said, deep in thought.
Since she’d collaborated on the status-ailment project, Mira remembered most of what was probably written in the book. All she had to do was follow what the chief detective was saying and remember the details regarding that particular topic. Then she could figure out what Wolf was getting at without having to listen to him beat around the bush.
Sure enough, Mira’s surreptitious analysis was a bull’s-eye. Chief Detective Wolf sat dumbfounded, looking as if she’d taken the wind out of his sails completely. In the next moment, his expression became admiring. “That’s exactly right, Miss Mira. Have you read this book, by any chance?” His eyes had lit up as if he’d found a kindred spirit.
On the other hand, Mira felt that that expectation was a tad high. “I just happened to flip through a couple pages,” she responded simply.
That wasn’t technically a lie. Smiling wryly to herself, Mira wondered which of them knew the book better: the person who’d read it, or the person who’d helped create it.
“Incredible. It’s just as you say…as soon as the toxin in the body turns back into mana, the status effect inflicted by Fuzzy Dice’s skill disappears. It wouldn’t have mattered how quickly we were examined after being woken—nobody could’ve found anything! Even if they’d examined us while we were still asleep, the toxin would just have disappeared during analysis,” Wolf concluded precisely.
All in all, he couldn’t imagine he’d been knocked out by anything but a skill. Once again, Mira agreed with him. In the game, she’d performed an experiment on the exact same kind of thing.
Status ailments’ effects generally differed depending on how exactly the ailments were induced. The cause of that lay in the exact manner of production of the ingredients used to provoke the symptoms.
Two main types of poison caused status effects: natural poison and magic poison. The bodies of plants, animals, and monsters produced the former. The duration of its effect depended on the strength and poison resistance of the victim. There were cases of people recovering quickly, as well as of people dying instantly. Such poison was characterized by its wide range of effectiveness.
Healing skills or antidotes could usually neutralize natural poison. However, some particularly terrifying types were impossible to cure without specific antivenoms. For example, the Venom of Eternal Demise, which belonged to the snake king residing in the Raisewood Bayou. That was one of the ingredients that Soul Howl needed to make the Holy Grail of Heavenly Light.
On the other hand, magic poison—created through skills or magic—was characterized by its imperviousness to its victim’s strength and detoxification abilities.
That wasn’t to say that it worked on everything. Resistance, or how well one could resist skills or magic, affected it. If a person’s resistance was high enough, the poison wouldn’t enter their body; it would instantly turn back into mana. However, if a magic poison’s formulation overpowered a person’s resistance, it immediately inflicted a status ailment.
But the higher a victim’s resistance was, the faster they’d clear the ailment. Holy Arts could also fully cure poison created using skills or magic. The trick was to use natural poison on magic users and magic poison on physical attackers.
Ultimately, alchemy produced the strongest natural poisons, but nobody held a candle to demonologists when it came to inflicting magic status ailments.
“All right,” said Wolf. “Let’s get back to when Fuzzy Dice purposely knocked me out.”
The chief detective’s lecture seemingly over, they finally got back to the issue at hand: How had Wolf determined that Fuzzy Dice was a demonologist? Although quite a few skills induced sleep, he explained, he had guessed that the white mist was conjuring magic.
“Having analyzed us, the medical team concluded that our conditions bore a striking resemblance to the quick-acting effects of stropotoxin!”
Deep sleep caused by stropotoxin? A puzzled look floated across Mira’s face as she wondered what exactly “stropotoxin” was.
Up to this point, she had appraised this situation as quite clear: Since Fuzzy Dice’s poison simply disappeared once enough time had passed, turning back into mana, it had to be produced via a skill. And in terms of inflicting status ailments, none were more skilled than demonologists. But she tilted her head as the conversation veered into unfamiliar territory.
Sure enough, as she did, the chief detective’s eyes glinted brightly. “Let me tell you about stropotoxin…” Just as she’d feared, the chief detective began expounding on this.
Perhaps accustomed to his verbosity, Julius feigned rapt attention as he grabbed the plates of pancakes being served. “We’ll also have three hot teas, please…” he murmured, perceiving that the conversation could go on for a while. Having made another order, he passed everyone their pancakes, then turned to Mira and added quickly, “It doesn’t really make a difference whether you listen, so feel free to dig in.”
It seemed that, since the chief detective enjoyed the sound of his own voice, it wasn’t a big deal if someone half tuned out.
“Now then, if you’ll allow me to explain…” Wolf continued.
“Go right ahead.”
The sweet smell of fresh pancakes tickled Mira’s nostrils. It’d been torture trying to keep herself from tucking in. Not feeling the least bit guilty, she stuffed her cheeks as the chief detective prattled on proudly.
The exceedingly fluffy, moist pancakes overwhelmed her. Just like Julius said, they had an incredible texture, the result of mascarpone cheese being mixed into the batter. As Mira continued enjoying the still-warm pancakes, Wolf’s lecture faded into the background.
She was only half listening, but the chief detective must’ve been good at explaining things. Despite his long-windedness, she got the gist of what he was saying. As Wolf went on and on at length, she learned that stropotoxin was often referred to as “the sleeping compound.” It was a potent sedative mainly found in the stropo flower. At that stage, it was a natural poison.
However, Wolf’s medical team hadn’t detected it in that form, so Fuzzy Dice must have used it in its magic-poison form. According to The Definitive Guide to Status-Ailment-Inflicting Skills, that was exactly the method used by the spirit beast Aktarkia.
The book was titled the “definitive” guide for good reason. It contained much more information than what Mira had learned while helping with the experiments. At any rate, while stropotoxin could exist as either a magic or natural poison, both forms were made from the same compound.
“Ah, I see…” Finished listening to the chief detective for the time being, Mira sipped her tea and smiled wryly to herself at having finally gotten this far with the conversation. Now they could determine which Demonic Art it was that Fuzzy Dice was using.
Mira wasn’t like most people, who knew nothing of Demonic Arts and would soon find themselves out of their depth. Rather, she’d previously sat atop one of the Linked Silver Towers, the preeminent research institution for magical skills, as its top summoner and one of the Nine Wise Men. Summoning aside, no mage held a candle to her knowledge of other varieties of magic.
“Sounds like he’s using the skill Ivory Mist of Eden,” she noted.
Mira was certain about that. The main component of that skill was stropotoxin, and Aktarkia’s Ivory Mist of Eden spell was one that demonologists used. Aside from techniques for manipulating others, demonologists could learn unique spells from monsters, magic beasts, spirits, or divine beasts and master them for later use.
Fighting fire with fire was a demonologist’s way of life. If Fuzzy Dice had used [Demonic Arts: Ivory Mist of Eden], she knew that he was a demonologist.
“Exactly,” Wolf replied. “Only a demonologist could conceivably use stropotoxin’s magic form.” Having said everything he wanted to, the chief detective nodded with a satisfied look and dug into his pancakes.
“Hrmm… If he’s skilled enough to use Ivory Mist of Eden, this could be a bigger problem than I expected,” Mira murmured.
It was a testament to Fuzzy Dice’s skill that he’d knocked out a dozen A-rank adventurers in mere moments. That said, it wasn’t anything Mira couldn’t do fairly easily. The larger problem was the Ivory Mist that Fuzzy Dice was using.
“A bigger problem than you expected…? Can you venture a guess as to his hitherto-unknown true capabilities now?” the chief detective asked curiously. Having been knocked out each and every time he’d encountered Fuzzy Dice, he was truly in the dark.
“Well, you could say I’ve at least got an idea.” Mira smiled as if her turn to lecture had come and dove in.
While it wasn’t her field of expertise, Mira knew how one got hold of Ivory Mist of Eden. When demonologists learned skills, there were a few preconditions.
Monsters and magic beasts had internal organs that activated when using magic. The demonologists’ first method for learning skills involved harvesting those organs, then transferring the techniques in them to the user.
The second method involved completing a trial received from a divine or sacred beast. There were quite a few ways to clear those trials. Some simply required brute strength; others required you to solve exceedingly difficult riddles you could only figure out using your intellect. Some even required both.
While there were countless types of trials, they all had one thing in common: A person could only undertake them alone. Anyone wishing to gain a sacred or divine beast’s power needed substantial strength and commitment. In the past, some sacred beasts’ trials had been tough for even the highest-ranked players. Aktarkia’s trial was one of those.
Aktarkia was a sacred beast that stood over ten meters high and looked like a large black moose with snow-white horns. Its huge body was so massive that people had no choice but to look up at it, and its hallowed aura showed clearly why it was called a sacred beast. It was also extremely intelligent and understood human speech. It had so much knowledge, especially about medicinal plants, that it was said to have been revered by famous alchemists in days long past.
Aktarkia was very friendly and forbearing to those who understood and communicated with it. However, it was hostile and utterly merciless to those it saw as foes. And when it came to strength in battle, the sacred beast was a foe that not even the Nine Wise Men could underestimate. Even a couple of A-rank adventurers wouldn’t have stood a chance. A dozen might, but their win was by no means a foregone conclusion.
To gain Aktarkia’s magic techniques, a demonologist needed to undertake a relatively straightforward trial: one-on-one combat. Thus, Fuzzy Dice was at least as capable in combat as Aktarkia. Having watched his battle in the underground room, Mira knew he was pretty powerful, but this meant he was on another level.
“From that, I’ve got a good sense of how strong Fuzzy Dice is,” Mira concluded. Having spoken her thoughts, she gracefully took another sip of tea.
“I knew he managed himself pretty well in battle, but to think he’s that strong…” This new information understandably took the chief detective aback, and he began to think deeply. They now had proof that Fuzzy Dice was powerful enough to take on a dozen A-class adventurers without resorting to tricks like knocking them out. “I guess we can’t take him on directly. No… Wouldn’t even stand a chance.”
How would they possibly catch an opponent like that? Despite his foe far exceeding his expectations, the chief detective didn’t appear to have lost hope. If anything, he seemed even more excited.
“Your words and your smile are at odds,” Mira said. “Have you come up with some good plan?”
Maybe Wolf really had thought up some way to subdue Fuzzy Dice. At least, that’s what she guessed from the look on his face. Unfortunately, that was very much not the case.
“Nope. On the contrary, I almost feel like throwing in the towel.” Appearing cheerfully defeated, he finished off his pancakes. Perhaps he’d finally given in to the indisputable truth.
But after just a moment, he suddenly looked at Julius, gave a slight smile, and said there was nothing to worry about. He seemed to be in a pretty good mood.
Julius explained that the chief detective had been a prodigious adventurer who overcame whatever was thrown at him without breaking a sweat. Toward the end of his career, he managed to reach the high A-class rank, and his quest-completion rate was 99 percent. That was because he never accepted quests beyond his capabilities; he only took ones that he could conceivably handle. He’d been a master adventurer who prioritized prudence and always erred on the side of caution.
Now, that wasn’t necessarily particularly uncommon. Being an adventurer meant putting your life on the line, so it made sense to be extremely cautious. In that sense, one could even consider the chief detective to have been a textbook adventurer.
But he’d taken cautiousness to an extreme. He’d completely avoided taking on quests with a high failure rate or ones which might be life-threatening if he failed.
“Considering what I’ve seen of you so far, that’s pretty hard to imagine…” Mira remarked.
She’d witnessed him fly down a flight of stairs, gaze longingly at a book he’d ordered, stuff his face with pancakes, and proudly retell his exploits in battle. She smiled bemusedly to herself at just how different he was from what Julius had described.
“I thought as much when I first met the chief detective. He seemed completely different from how I’d heard him described.” Again agreeing with Mira, Julius nodded and flashed a grin.
After becoming Wolf’s assistant and working with him on several assignments, Julius had come to understand how the chief detective had changed since he’d been an adventurer. His impression of the detective as a paragon of prudence and caution shattered within a month.
“The shift in him seems to be compensation for his time as an adventurer. Now, he only wants to take risks,” Julius concluded, glancing at the chief detective with an exasperated look.
“I was young back then,” Wolf sighed, before seizing the opportunity to launch into another story.
When he retired from adventuring, he explained, he’d found himself with lots of time on his hands. Listening to several of his juniors laugh while trading stories about their victories and defeats as adventurers, something had suddenly occurred to him. He began to wonder if there really had been contracts that made a person laugh like that.
“Back then, I only took on Guild Union contracts with high success rates. I’m obviously biased, but most of my skills were above average. What’s more, I was very proficient at determining what I could and couldn’t do.”
He’d only taken on challenges if he was certain that he’d succeed. And that wasn’t limited to his conduct as an adventurer—it extended to every aspect of his life in general.
“I never really knew what a sense of accomplishment felt like. I used to wonder why anyone celebrated completing a contract successfully…” The chief detective looked up and smiled bitterly. He must’ve found those memories unpleasant. His expression, however, was short-lived; he turned his gaze back to Mira and flashed a smile. “I have my wife and daughter to thank for awakening me from that dullness.”
It seemed that what the chief detective really wanted to talk about was his family. As if a dam had burst, he started chattering in minute detail about how he’d met his wife, as well as his daughter’s birth and upbringing. It sounded as if the turning point for him had been raising his child—although apparently that hadn’t gone entirely to plan.
He’d consulted experts on child-rearing, read books on it, and felt fully prepared for it. Yet his daughter cried unexpectedly, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her, since he wasn’t sure what she’d do next. In short, nothing went in the manner he’d mapped out.
The chief detective went to ask more experts about his experiences. They told him that everything he was going through made perfect sense. Indeed, they went so far as to say that their previous advice and the books he’d read were just guidelines, and that it was impossible to plan how to raise a child perfectly.
The chief detective was shocked. Child-rearing now seemed like a contract full of factors that could set him up for failure. He’d never accepted those contracts; they were exactly the type of thing he avoided. But that didn’t mean he could give up. And so the chief detective and his wife did their very best despite failing time and time again. Then, one day, his daughter said she loved him. Joy sprung from the bottom of his heart, and he finally understood what accomplishing something felt like.
That forever broadened the chief detective’s horizons.
“In the space between what was possible and impossible, I found something that outshone everything else. It was that very joy, as well as the feeling of my heart leaping in my chest at that moment. I realized then how those adventurers I saw that day must’ve felt. Suddenly, everything had become clear to me. I wanted to go off on adventures again, age be damned,” the chief detective concluded.
That said, he added, he couldn’t conceivably go back to being an adventurer. With an impish grin, he revealed that that was why he began working as a detective.
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