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

by Hirukuma,

  I feel as though we could leave them alone, and they’d decay naturally. They have to quickly make the food when it’s ordered, and they have just one vending machine, meaning their turnover rate is bad, too.

  I’m skeptical as to whether they’re making a profit—or if they even have a proper business going.

  After that, we go back to the tent the two girls live in and start discussing it. But in the end, we reach the conclusion that if I start doing my vending machine business normally, everything will work itself out.

  And so, after reopening sales at my fixed spot in front of the Hunters Association the next day, word spread in a heartbeat. My regulars swarmed me all at once, and my items began flying off the shelves.

  The cooks from the stalls came, too, to buy large quantities of items to replenish their ingredient stocks. From dawn to dusk, there was no end to the hordes of excited customers. After a week, when things had finally calmed down, the imposter vending machine was gone. The wall it had been placed in front of was also boarded up.

  Hopefully, this will convince the Chains Restaurant to give up, but I can’t help but feel like they’ll meddle in our affairs again. We’re probably under careful watch after this incident.

  This is a matter of pride, so a major company could actually come to try to run me out of business. Still, if they lay a hand on my friends or me, all we have to do is turn the tables on them.

  Eating Contest

  Several days passed after the imposter incident, and as the Clearflow Lake stratum was returning to its usual state of daily affairs, I was forced to participate in another one of the meetings held by the eatery owners, whose stores had regained their customers.

  “Thanks to our employment of a large number of hunters who can use earth magic, repairs have finished on approximately ninety percent of the settlement’s walls.”

  “Wow. The Hunters Association has been working hard, too, it seems.”

  “As long as we get that wall finished, we’ll be perfectly defended.”

  Munami, the usual moderator, claps her hands, and the shopkeepers follow suit in applause. After all, now they can do their jobs without worrying about outside enemies.

  The reason the repairs on the outer walls proceeded faster than we thought is, as Munami explained as well, in large part due to the Hunters Association securing a great deal of people capable of using earth magic.

  Before, over half the wall was just wooden stakes, and it would be embarrassing to say it could protect against much. Now, however, the settlement is surrounded by tall, thick earthen walls.

  “Silence, please, everyone. It looks like the wall will be complete in two more weeks. Once our safety is secured, we can expand the settlement even more and get a large influx of people. That is why I’ve been thinking of holding an event, dubbed the Wall Completion Commemoration, which will be a joint effort among all the eateries.”

  This is thanks to the eateries on this stratum taking the Chains Restaurant incident as an opportunity to forge a pact. It’s so nice that their relationship isn’t hostile but cooperative.

  “I’d like for the event itself to be an eating contest.”

  “Yeah. Hunters eat a ton, after all. They’ll be excited, eh?”

  “Right. And if we offer the winner a prize, we can expect a lot of participants.”

  “Plus, if we take a small entrance fee, we won’t end up in the red because of it.”

  An eating contest, huh? A standard event with simple rules. This should be exciting.

  “I got it. We should go with the most filling foods we can.”

  “Why don’t we separate the women—and have them eat sweets?”

  “On the other hand, if we use food that’s easy to eat to show off how much they’re eating, it might make the crowd happier.”

  Varied opinions go back and forth in an energetic debate. They relied totally on me last time, so it sets me at ease seeing them getting this pumped up about it on their own.

  Well, I guess it’s rude to talk like I’m somehow above them. I’m just borrowing the power of the items I can put into the vending machine anyway.

  “Then let’s aim to do this in two weeks and have the general store owner create flyers and posters. Let’s keep the energy levels up, everyone!”

  “Yeaaah!”

  As I watch the store owners thrust their fists into the air, I wonder if it was really necessary for me to be here… They didn’t ask for my opinion even once. I feel a bit left out.

  When I look at how excited the owners are— Seriously, why did they bring me here?

  Several days passed after that, and the settlement is now bustling with festival preparations.

  They’ve decided the event will take place in front of the Hunters Association building, and they’re proceeding apace with the venue setup. It’s still under construction, so there are more than enough carpenters—even though it’ll be used for only one day, they’re creating an awfully grandiose stage for this. Posters with contest information on them are hung everywhere the eye can see, and flyers are being passed out as well. It looks like we’re reaching peak excitement in anticipation of the big day.

  Each of the stores will apparently provide the participants with prizes; if you manage to slip into the top five, you’ll get a fairly large prize. I’ve only heard a few possibilities being thrown around, but the weapons shop and item shop are giving away a full set of hunter’s weapons and tools. The other prizes sound like things any hunter would want, too.

  Because of all that, the number of willing participants in the contest increases by the day, and the organizers practically weep with joy. I’m happy for them.

  “Mr. Boxxo, please, we’d like you to lend us your strength!”

  I’ve been invited to an extra meeting again—and those cries of delight have turned into just plain crying as the store owners start whining all at once to me.

  Every single person wears a tragic expression as they press into me like a horde of zombies.

  “H-hey, you’re scaring him!”

  “Settle down a little, old-timers.”

  Lammis and Hulemy, who came with me, placate the store owners, who manage to calm down.

  “Anyway, what do you want to ask Boxxo, exactly?” asks Hulemy. “Last I heard, preparations for the eating contest were going just fine.”

  “Uh-huh. I’m going to enter, too.”

  “About that, Lammis. You’re right—it’s going great, and we have more participants every day. At least, it was great, until we found out they would be competing.”

  Munami stops talking there and stares at Lammis with a grave look.

  They, eh? From that dangerous-sounding tone, I imagine some assassin has blended in with the goal of disrupting the event. The Chains Restaurant would be a likely candidate.

  Munami opens her mouth to speak again.

  “That infamous contest wrecker, Shui the Inhaler, as well as the Band of Gluttons, will be taking part in the eating contest.”

  Suddenly, I understand the situation they’ve found themselves in. The biggest eater of the Menagerie of Fools has an appetite that the number of coins she’s put into me can vouch for. On any given day, she can easily eat five times what a normal person can and then say, “It’s easier to move around when you’re not full” with a completely straight face. If she’s competing, I can’t blame the store owners for being so rattled.

  And the four from the Band of Gluttons are participating with her? Their stomachs are nothing to scoff at. Once before, when all five were eating and drinking for real, they made me have to restock my items twice.

  Apparently, it’s possible for Tasmanian devils to eat half their weight in food in a single sitting. Despite being small, they must weigh around fifty kilograms. In that case, if they pulled out all the stops, they’d easily be able to eat over twenty kilos. And if four are participating, I really can’t blame these guys for falling into despair. Nope.

  They will be charging a s
mall entrance fee, but that’s not going to be anywhere near enough when it comes to those five.

  “At this rate, we won’t just take a loss—we’ll go bankrupt! No amount of our cooking will be enough!”

  “I heard that eating contests the Band of Gluttons enter don’t just run out of food—they run out of garbage, too…”

  “We put all this effort into joining forces, but now we’re doomed!”

  Heartbroken, the store owners pound their fists on the ground, but they don’t forget to spare a flattering glance or two for me. I remember this exact thing happening once before. Just quit it with this little farce for now.

  “Okay, I see. You want Boxxo to suggest ways or products that will do something about those five big eaters, right?”

  Appearing to have learned from previous experience, the owners nod in time with one another. They started at the exact same moment, and they nodded the same number of times. I want to believe it’s all coincidence.

  In order to satisfy those big eaters, we have to either feed them a lot—or have them consume something filling beforehand or during the event.

  I know— Why not make their drinks carbonated? If they make the contest foods heavy or spicy, they’ll get thirsty more easily and have more of the carbonated drinks.

  The meal would have some problems in the health area, but for an eating contest, health doesn’t matter one bit.

  With that settled, I drop a two-liter bottle of cola into my compartment. Lammis takes it and places it on the table. The store owners all gather around, but they’re confused as to what it is.

  “Um, this is a fizzy drink that feels funny when it goes down your throat,” explains Lammis.

  “I drink it because I like it,” adds Hulemy, “but it’s sweet and fills you up fast. I think Boxxo wants to say that if he provides this along with the food, it might reduce the amount of food they eat. Right, Boxxo?”

  “Welcome.”

  They don’t seem to grasp it even after hearing their explanation, so Lammis pours some into cups for everyone. They take it, but again, they just look at it; nobody puts it to their lips.

  Every time it bubbles, they give a start. Unable to watch them continue like that, Hulemy downs hers in one gulp.

  “Phew! I could get addicted to the way it bubbles down my throat.”

  Seeing her drink it enthusiastically and wipe her mouth seems to whet their curiosity, and they all drink, though only a sip.

  “Whoa, what is this? I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

  “It’s like something’s popping in my mouth. It might be too sweet, but it goes down easily, thanks to how fizzy it is.”

  “I think I like this.”

  It looks like they have mostly good opinions of it. Still, some people might not enjoy it, which could be a problem.

  “If we served this instead of water, wouldn’t the participants complain?”

  “Ahh, yeah. I’m not sure I can drink much more of this.”

  “In that case, why not let them choose between this or water?”

  “No, if we do that, the ones who pick water will have a clear advantage.”

  At this point, I have to leave it to the owners. In complete contrast to before, they offer one insight and proposal after another, so I’d like to think they’ll be fine now.

  I remain an observer for a while, and as Lammis and Hulemy sip their milk tea, also not saying anything, the organizers come to a decision.

  The eating contest will offer both water and cola, and they’ll leave it up to the contestants to pick which one they want. In doing so, those who choose water will have a clear advantage, but they thought of an interesting way around that.

  In the days leading up to the contest, the stores will all stock cola, selling small amounts for rather high prices. By doing that, when the contestants learn they can have the cola for free at the eating contest, many might be swayed to choose the cola instead.

  Why, that’s brilliant. If you really want to try to win, you should pick the water, but they’re not in the eating contest as a job. I wouldn’t blame them for losing to the temptation right in front of them.

  “There you have it, Mr. Boxxo. If you could provide it to us at a reasonable price, we would be greatly in your debt.”

  As the store owners rub their hands and make their request, I almost give them an exasperated grin. But I’d planned to sell it to them at a price that wouldn’t drive them into the red from the start, so I accept with a “Welcome.”

  Now the preparations are complete. All that’s left is to wait eagerly for the day of the contest.

  The Day of the Eating Contest

  Wow, the place is packed. With clear skies overhead, crowds line up in order to get participation certificates for the eating contest. They’re old, young, male, and female, of many races, showing the fruits of the publicity until now.

  In the end, they decided on fried meat as the eating-contest food, but there were way more participants than we had anticipated, so they apparently mobilized all the hunters to gather ingredients.

  In the kitchen set up behind the venue, there are piles of meat so high one might worry that the creatures who made their habitat near the settlement had been hunted nearly to extinction.

  Come to think of it, the guy in charge of the cooking was saying something strange earlier. What was it again…?

  “Agh, there’s not enough meat. What now? It looks like we hunted most of the creatures nearby. Meat, meat, me— Wait, I know just the thing. They brought it back home with them after their last hunting quest.”

  Wait, does that mean it’s frog-fiend or crocodile-fiend meat…? Oh, wait, it’s common practice to eat monster meat in this world. I shouldn’t try to shove Japanese ethical views onto these people, nope.

  After one thing or another, it looks like they got ahold of more than enough meat. Right now, they’re asking contestants before the event whether they’d like cola or water, and just as they schemed, a lot of people seem to want the cola.

  The problem children—Shui the Inhaler and the Band of Gluttons—seem to have taken a liking to the cola as well, so I guess that means we’ve cleared the first hurdle.

  “Boxxo, you’ll be providing drinks during the whole eating contest, right?”

  “Welcome.”

  That’s right—my job is to replenish their cola supplies, which have grown thin on the edge of the stage. We have over fifty participants, so the fried meat is one thing, but the cola consumption will likely be significant.

  Lammis suggested we should season the fried meat more heavily as well, which is sure to double the rate at which they’ll get thirsty.

  “Okay. I have to go through the line, so I’ll set you on the stage for now.”

  “Welcome.”

  She puts me on the edge of the stage, but it’s still a fairly conspicuous position.

  In this settlement, there is interest in me, a vending machine, being here, but more than a few people are too scared to approach me, so one of this event’s other goals is to make an appeal to my usefulness and safety. At least, that’s what Director Bear said.

  The stage is on a raised platform, so I can look out across the audience and the surroundings. And boy, is there still a long line in front of the person giving out participation certificates.

  Lammis is near the end of the line, with the Band of Gluttons grouped up in front of her. It also seems that Shui isn’t the only one participating from the Menagerie of Fools—the red-and-white twins are as well.

  I know several of the other participants, too. The two gatekeepers are competing? Gocguy, from the money-changing business, is evidently participating as well. With a muscular build like an inverted triangle, he looks like a big eater indeed. You could probably add him to the list of potential champions.

  My early-morning regulars have taken their seats in the audience. Scanning them quickly, I can spot other customers who make frequent use of me here and there.

 
The audience’s eyes are focused on me for some reason. There seem to be two groups: Some are watching me with curious eyes, and others are staring dubiously, wondering why I’m here.

  As I sit in an unbearable situation, they’re getting the venue equipment in order, and it looks like they’ve already placed all the chairs and tables. They have long tables connected to one another on the stage, with over twenty chairs in position.

  After they finish setting up, Munami, the moderator and emcee, proceeds onto the stage. She’s wearing her usual maid-style apron skirt. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen her wear anything else.

  “Thank you for waiting, everyone. We will now begin the first Clearflow Lake Stratum Eating Contest!”

  Clapping and cheering rise from the audience. The seats are nearly filled to capacity. Most of them have brought items they purchased from nearby vendors to come and watch.

  Watching an eating contest on an empty stomach is like torture, after all. Look at this—the stalls can expect substantial earnings today.

  “We have more participants than expected, so we will be splitting them up into Group One and Two. The top five from each group will advance to the finals, where we’ll have one last contest. We have some incredible prizes for the winners, too, so please do your best, everyone.”

  “Yeeeaaahhh!”

  Deep voices shout from near the bottom of the venue. The participants’ excitement is reaching its peak, too.

  “Then may I please have those in Group One come to the stage?”

  As large men file in, the four from the Band of Gluttons appear, too. Shui and Lammis must be in Two—I don’t see them among the contestants. Actually, it feels rather messy with just men.

  At a glance, one man, over six feet tall and incredibly rotund, looks like a fierce competitor. But I’m very familiar with the Band of Gluttons’s voracious appetites, so I wonder if he can beat them.

  “The contest will last as long as the sand takes to fall through this hourglass.”