Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon - Vol. 03

by Hirukuma,

  [Points decreased by 500.]

  Whoa! The Force Field parried the blade completely, but I got the pop-up showing points consumed from going over the Force Field’s sturdiness. The Octo Croc, a stratum lord, consumed an extra thousand points with its tackle, too. Does that mean Mishuel’s attack was about half that tackle’s power?

  That’s incredible. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill destructive power. Now that I’ve endured this, I’m curious to see how many points a full-force Lammis punch would consume.

  “It blocked… It blocked my Evil Dragon’s Roaring Strike?” mutters Mishuel, frustrated, still taking the recoil. That attack was incredible. I never even considered he’d be able to do half the damage of a stratum lord.

  “See? It’ll be fine. No matter what, we won’t get hurt.”

  “There you have it.”

  A promise is a promise, and Mishuel agrees to let us go with him, albeit reluctantly. We’ve been going on and on completely under the pretense that we’re up against enemies, but even if they end up being harmless messengers, you can never be too careful.

  Pursuers

  With Mishuel taking the lead, Lammis follows a short distance behind with me in tow. Mikenne is with us, too. We asked the rest of the Band of Gluttons and Hulemy to keep watch over the buar cart.

  Mishuel didn’t tell us what kind of adversary awaited us, but even an idiot could tell from his concerned expression that it was no half-baked opponent.

  “Boxxo, if it comes down to it, I’ll be counting on you.”

  “Welcome.”

  To be honest, I would have preferred Lammis to wait behind as well, but Mishuel would never be able to carry me. Now that it’s come to this, all I have to do is protect her with all my strength. Still, I wonder what sort of foe is lying in wait for us.

  “Lammis. There are five men in total. They seem to be after Mishuel, like he said,” asserted Mikenne, his nose and ears twitching. I guess he can figure all that out with just his sense of smell if we’re close enough. I’ve started to see them faintly in the direction of our travel, but it would be tough to pick out exactly how many of them there are.

  “The three in front seem quite skilled. The other two are magic users, or possibly Blessing users of one of the four elements or something similar.”

  Mishuel’s expression and tone are now exuding hot-guy energy. It looks like he’s still in the zone.

  “You can sense presences, Mishuel?”

  “Yes, to an extent.”

  It must be convenient to be able to mentally sense that people are around. I don’t think a vending machine like me would ever be able to acquire that ability, but it would be funny if presence sensing was in the Blessings or features list. I’ll look for one later.

  Here’s where the problems start. We’ve told Mikenne about my Blessing already, so I don’t think he’ll leave our side. If things come to that, then I’m sure he’ll make it out with how quickly he can run away.

  Still, Mishuel probably won’t let me protect him. He seems to have some kind of major secret—maybe that will come to light during this incident.

  As our party advances with a confident stride, the five men come into view.

  One has a scar on his cheek, apparently from being cut by some blade; he wears it like a battle-hardened warrior. Looks like he’s the leader. Three are in heavy gear, with full steel-colored armor, shields, and maces.

  The other two hold two-handed staves with giant crystal-like stones attached to the tip, and they wear hoods low over their eyes, looking like perfect magic casters.

  The three in their front line are wearing gear that you don’t see very often in the Clearflow Lake stratum. That’s partly because the stratum is very humid, making metal armor a poor choice. In addition, though, not many hunters opt for blunt weapons, so seeing all three of their frontline members wielding maces is unusual.

  “Lord Mishuel, correct? We have come for your life.”

  “I thought as much. Who sent you?”

  “I am sure you know without me having to say.”

  “You’re not wrong.”

  I know this is indiscreet of me to say, but there’s a certain atmosphere about their exchange. I’ve seen this kind of thing in period films before. I’d still prefer that he clearly explain what’s going on instead of leaving us to draw our own conclusions.

  “By the way, the beast person there and…the girl—are they allies of yours?” The scarred warrior’s gaze freezes just for a moment when it comes to me. He seems to immediately decide it’s not something he can understand and stops thinking about it.

  “Not allies. We just accepted the same quest. Feel free to come after me, but I won’t let you lay a hand on those three.”

  He counts me as one of them?

  Lammis’s cheeks loosen at Mishuel’s remarks. She must be happy that he included a vending machine like me.

  “I see. If you will do us the favor of offering us your head, we will promise not to lay a hand on them.”

  Now, there’s a sketchy remark. I’ve never heard anyone say they wouldn’t lay a hand on someone else, then actually didn’t. It’s a staple among staples that once they killed Mishuel, they’d kill the eyewitnesses for fear of word spreading.

  “You think I’ll believe you?”

  “You are free to make that decision however you wish. Now, what will you do, Lord Mishuel?”

  “My answer is obvious. I’ll defeat the lot of you and keep you from hurting them!”

  He’s the ideal image of a hero. A commanding presence with the looks to back it up. If a vending machine said that, they’d snort, and that would be the end of it.

  Anyway, I’ll stop enjoying myself as an innocent bystander now. I have to focus so I can activate Force Field at any time.

  “How noble of you. We shall scatter you and the lofty feelings in your breast across these wastes.”

  The enemy group readies for battle. I’ve experienced Mishuel’s strength firsthand, but high attack power doesn’t necessarily translate into skill in a fight against another person.

  Lammis can overpower Captain Kerioyl with her destructive force, but when they sparred, he very easily shut her out. I remember the captain saying, “Power is only useful in combat when paired with skill,” or something along those lines.

  They’ll be a pain to deal with, but the biggest problems are those two in the back line who look like magic users. It’s common video-game knowledge that warriors don’t do well against magic. I wonder if that’s true in other worlds as well.

  Either way, we’re not obliged to wait around for them like this.

  I change form into a pressure washer. Lammis seems to get the right idea immediately upon seeing my shape; she pulls the nozzle out with me still on her back and readies it.

  She knows how to use this from practicing against the flame scolls, so she’ll be able to without a problem. She positions the nozzle at her hip and puts a finger on the lever.

  “Mishuel, leave the back to us!”

  Without waiting for a response, Lammis plunges in. Mikenne, flustered, follows suit. I’m afraid of surprise attacks, so I’ll expand a Force Field ahead of time.

  “What’s that blue thing? Take that one out first.”

  The two mage-looking people point their staves at us. I just thought of something… This can block magic, too, right? It’s blocked flames and heat in addition to physical attacks before, so I think it will be fine… Uh, it will, right?!

  Paying no mind to my inner thoughts, balls of fire and small rocks shoot from their staff tips, turning into a sideways-sweeping hail of attacks.

  Lammis, who trusts me completely, rushes headlong into the torrent of flame and stone. They collide with the Force Field’s translucent walls, but they all bounce off, and it doesn’t allow even one shot inside.

  G-great. I guess it can block magic stuff, too. L-look, it’s all right. Lammis, you can rampage to your heart’s content now.

  With the me
tal box on her back, Lammis dives straight for the enemies, unafraid of their magic. And now, they’re scared. They get cold feet and start to withdraw.

  “Time to spray!”

  After closing to not even ten feet in distance, she pulls the lever, and highly pressurized water begins to spurt from the nozzle tip.

  “What?! A Blessing that can control water?!”

  Even if it hits, it doesn’t have enough force to do much more than sting a little, but it’s more than enough to obstruct their view. Then, I switch the water to the shampoo mode from car washes. Instead of water, bubbles erupt out, covering their bodies.

  “Blurgh! Wh-what?! I can’t see! My eyes!”

  Yeah, it does hurt when the soap gets in your eyes, doesn’t it? They flail around covered in bubbles. It was already hard for them to move in their drenched, clinging robes, but now they’re slipping on the detergent and making a big show of falling over.

  “Oh, this is kind of fun!”

  I mean, this looks just like a one-sided water-gun fight—obviously, it’s fun. Mikenne is watching us enviously. This isn’t a game!

  Our opponents try to stage a counterattack, but I block everything with my Force Field, leading to a one-sided trampling—actually, this seems like bullying.

  “What the hell are you two doing?!”

  The scarred man who seems to be the leader yells at them. They’re in a three-on-one battle, but Mishuel is holding his own. Even to the untrained eye, the attackers’ movements are crisp, and they’re clearly skilled with their weapons.

  But all that isn’t enough to overwhelm him. They seem impatient, but when they learn the back line is blocked off, their impatience turns to panic, and their movements lose their composure.

  We’re washing off the bubbles in rinse mode now, but the water mixes with the sand in the ground and covers them in mud. They were never hit by a direct attack, but their breathing is still ragged.

  Mikenne charges toward them, rope in hand, and deftly ties them up. Not only that, but he covers their eyes and wraps their mouths.

  “If they can’t see, they can’t activate any magic or Blessings in the places they want. Some Blessings are word activated, too, so I figured I’d prevent them from contacting their friends.”

  Mikenne seems accustomed to dealing with these kinds of opponents; he disables both of them with tact.

  “Mishuel! We’re done over here!”

  When Lammis shouts, it cuts off the enemies’ focus, and their movements clearly start to dull. Mishuel doesn’t let that opening go to waste—with three swings of his greatsword, the enemies slump to their knees and fall face-first onto the ground.

  “Thank you,” says Mishuel. “If you hadn’t helped me, things could have gotten dicey. I’m grateful for your help.”

  As Mishuel bows deeply, Lammis replies with a simple “No problem.” Mikenne walks over to the three felled opponents, ropes in hand. He checks their pulse and their pupils, then shakes his head.

  He killed them? They came to kill him, so it makes sense: It was legitimate self-defense. I understand it mentally, but my heart stirs just a little, proof that I was raised in Japan, where peace was guaranteed.

  “You’ve disabled the other two, I see. We can question them… Thank you for that.”

  No passion can be felt from his eyes; they contain a cold light.

  I thought nothing of it when Lammis killed monsters, and yet, I feel a little bit of fear toward him. It’s so selfish of me. This is another world—if this is enough to rattle me, I won’t last.

  My life in the Clearflow Lake stratum was too placid and comfortable, and that might have made my perceptions naive. Maybe I should once again brace myself for what’s to come.

  Back at Last in the Clearflow Lake Stratum

  “Would you mind calling the others? I have something I need to ask these two.”

  He must want to do the interrogating while we’re not around. It seems like there are things involved that our presence would cause trouble for; he’s telling us in a roundabout way to leave.

  “Okay. We’ll go get Hulemy and the others.”

  And Lammis is a keen girl. Without questioning him about anything, she and Mikenne turn their backs to him and begin to walk away. As I bump up and down on Lammis’s back, I stare after Mishuel, but I can’t read anything from a quick glimpse at his impassive face from the side.

  “Mishuel must have a lot going on.”

  “Welcome.”

  “It’s hard to know how deep to pry in these situations.”

  “Welcome.”

  “I know he didn’t need our help, either, but I just couldn’t stay quiet. Maybe I should leave a little more distance between us.”

  Lammis has been thinking a lot about this, too. I don’t know how to answer this question myself. Some people might think it was annoying, but other people might want someone to listen.

  He looks like he’s afraid of getting someone involved. He isn’t refusing to have anyone else there; it feels more like he’s being considerate and trying not to let harm befall us.

  While I ponder it, we meet up at the buar cart where Hulemy and the others are waiting, then head back to Mishuel in no particular rush.

  It was about a thirty-minute round-trip, and by the time we get back, Mishuel is standing there by himself—the two magic caster–looking people are nowhere to be found. The corpses of the three men he slayed, too—vanished.

  I think for a moment he let them escape, but when I look attentively at the ground, I can see faint burn marks. They sort of look human-shaped. Five of them. Which means, well, I know what happened.

  “Looks like you took care of them, eh? Nice work.”

  “I brought the others!”

  Hulemy understands what happened here, so she purposely addresses Mishuel in a lighthearted voice. Lammis gives a little wave of her hand, too. No one can sense even a hint of seriousness coming from her.

  “Welcome back. I have to apologize for getting you involved in personal affairs.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” says Lammis. “Boxxo gets caught up in lots of stuff anyway—like getting kidnapped or falling through cracks in strata.”

  “You’re not wrong,” remarks Hulemy.

  “Too bad.”

  They were the ones who took care of me in those situations.

  After hearing our exchange, Mishuel’s tense expression loosens just a little. “I can’t reveal the details,” he says, “but for certain reasons, there are people after my life. If we stay together any longer than this, it could put your lives in danger, so I will return to the settlement ahead of you all and move to a different stratum. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done.”

  “Oh, wait a second,” says Lammis. “If you’re a strong person with a lot on your plate, why not join the Menagerie of Fools? The captain said they were looking for people like that.”

  “Right, he was rambling on about stuff like that, wasn’t he?” adds Hulemy. “Doesn’t matter where you come from, as long as you’re the real deal. He’s even bragged before about how everybody in his band has some kind of personal baggage.”

  Of all things, an invitation? Come to think of it, Captain Kerioyl was certainly saying things like that. He’d probably go, “If someone’s after us, we just fight them off—it’ll be good training against surprise attacks” and be perfectly fine with it. He’s got a lot of spunk, after all.

  “The Menagerie of Fools—that famous team of hunters?”

  “Yup. It’s filled with interesting people. We promised to help them out once in a while, too.”

  “Why not forget all the tough stuff and ask them? I think it’d be a good place to gain power.”

  “I…see. I’ll look into contacting them. Now then, so long, until we meet again.”

  He’s been bowing very deeply, but he swiftly straightens up and begins to leave. He cuts quite the dashing figure even when saying good-bye, but I didn’t miss the mutterings carried from him
to me on the wind.

  “The Menagerie of Fools… There’s so many people I don’t know there… I can’t do it…”

  Ahh, I guess the hurdle is still too high for him. When he’s in hot-guy mode, he’s quite reliable. I suppose this gap is part of his charm.

  Without anyone stopping him, we wait until his back is out of sight and then resume our progression. Things would be awkward if we sped up and caught up to him, so we slow down as much as we can, with me bouncing slowly and comfortably.

  When we arrive back at the settlement after taking over twice the time it normally would have, dusk has started to blanket the sky, so we decide there’s no reason to hurry and spend the night at the only inn in the labyrinth.

  “A lot happened, but now we can finally go back to the Clearflow Lake stratum!”

  The next day, Lammis is the only one among those standing on the transfer circle who seems to be full of energy. Hulemy stifles a yawn, and the Band of Gluttons sleepily rub their eyes.

  I can’t blame them. It’s still early in the morning when the sun has just started to rise, so it must be a rough time of day for night people and nocturnal folk.

  Yesterday, we reported to the Hunters Association that we found nothing strange, and after only a quick explanation, our mission was complete. After that, people bought large quantities of items from me, making noise until late in the night, which brings us to now.

  “I’m ready to relax and do some research for a while.”

  “What are the Band of Gluttons going to do now? I think there are a lot of jobs available in the Clearflow Lake stratum, so you’ll probably be able to make enough money so you won’t go hungry.”

  “Then let’s cut loose for a while. I hope we can eat until we’re full.”

  “I want to take a bath.”

  “Director Bear governs that place, after all. Nothing bad will happen to us.”

  Hulemy goes without saying, but the Band of Gluttons are evidently coming to live in the Clearflow Lake stratum. I’ll be able to expect them as regular customers in the future, too.