by Shouji Gatou
Isuzu had been at AmaBri for a year, but she still didn’t know Macaron very well. She knew that he mainly spent time with Moffle and Tiramii, and that he was an insufferable fool who was always doing stupid things, but from time to time he showed a dignified side (though he lacked Moffle’s keen insight). There were many members of the cast who were intimidated by Isuzu’s personality, but Macaron seemed to enjoy teasing her.
He didn’t seem afraid of having a woman hate him, either... Was that it? she wondered. Was it the confidence of a man with a child and an ex-wife... the confidence of a mature adult?
Still grinning in that sarcastic way of his, Macaron savored a few more puffs off his cigarette, then put it out with a leisurely motion. It would look quite stylish if it was being done by a handsome older man, but for the woolly sheep mascot, it all just seemed a bit strange.
“Well, anyway... we can’t stay locked up in this cell forever, ron,” Macaron wandered up to the bars. “This lock—it looks like a simple padlock, ron. If only Tiramii were here. He’d get it open easily enough...”
“Do you have anything you can use to break it?”
“Nothing. All I have is my wallet, my house key, my smartphone and—”
While Macaron muttered to himself, Isuzu pulled her musket from her thigh and blew off the padlock. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the prison.
“Will that do?” she inquired.
Stunned, Macaron let out an appreciative whistle. “That’s my girl, ron. Let’s get going.”
Even as they got out of the cell, there was no sign of any guards coming for them. Surprising, since the gunshot had been rather loud...
“Strange...” she observed.
“Maybe Moffle and the others are making trouble out there, ron. They’ve had to divert all their forces elsewhere...”
“Even so, one would expect that it would trigger an alarm, at least,” Isuzu noted.
“Hmm...”
The corridor was lined with cells along either side. There seemed to be over twenty rooms. One way led to an immediate dead end, while the other led to a sturdy-looking iron door in the distance.
They decided to walk towards the door.
But before they’d taken more than a few steps, they realized that there was another prisoner present. About three cells down from the cell they had been in, someone had coughed.
“...?” Finding it strange, they peered into the cell.
The first thing they saw were three LCD monitors of varying sizes, followed by a desktop PC, a Blu-ray recorder, and a variety of game systems. A laptop PC had been tossed haphazardly onto the bed, and the desk was lined with a massive collection of figures, made up of girls and robots in a roughly 30-70 ratio. Bookshelves filled with manga, DVDs, and games lined the walls, and any and all empty spaces were occupied with idol and pro wrestling posters.
The room’s sole occupant was facing the monitors, his back to them. He was a short, stout creature about three heads tall. His chair was made from what looked like high-quality mesh, and had an ergonomic design.
“Ohh... an Aeron Chair, ron. Pro manga artists and animators love those. Wish I had one...”
“Is now really the time to be envious?” Isuzu demanded. “What on earth is...”
It was definitely a prison cell, but it had been transformed into a room that any bachelor otaku would sigh in envy at. By contrast, when the female Isuzu looked at it—well, if she ever happened to find herself a boyfriend, and had gone to his room wearing her best underwear and ready to take the plunge, this was the very definition of a sight she would have hoped not to see inside.
And ah, look there—a floor littered with empty plastic bottles and empty Amazon boxes! It was the height of debauchery.
“What are you babbling about out there, nell? It’s too early for lunch...” With an air of annoyance, the room’s occupant swiveled around in his expensive chair to face them.
He was a mascot with plush, khaki-colored fur, who looked like a three-heads-tall weasel. Isuzu felt like she had seen him before, though she couldn’t quite place him.
But Macaron cried out immediately: “Wait, aren’t you... Dornell?!”
Dornell: he was one of the cast members who’d gotten lost in the maze so long ago. Those who had made it back had testified that he’d been snatched by a dragon and swallowed whole.
Dornell squinted at Macaron. “Hmm? Aren’t you... Macaron, nell? The new blood at the Music Theater?”
“I was new a long time ago, ron. I’m a veteran now.”
“Ahh... true, I’ve been here for a while, nell. That’s okay, though.” Dornell sat up a little and waved his stubby hand.
“You are... Dornell, then? What on earth are you doing here?” Isuzu asked.
In response, Dornell pointed to the LCD monitor behind him. “What does it look like? I’m reading blogs, nell. Stuff like: ‘Why do light novels have such long names these days?’ And such.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” Isuzu said. “You’ve been missing for over ten years, haven’t you? I’m trying to ask what you’ve been doing all this time.”
“Not that I mind explaining that... but who are you, nell?”
“I’m Sento Isuzu, the secretary to the park’s acting manager. Tell me, then: what exactly have you been doing here all this time?”
“What do you think? I’ve been a prisoner, nell.”
“For over ten years? Here?!”
Isuzu and Macaron both stared at him.
“Yeah. They’ve got a rule here: if you’re captured, you gotta stay until your friends come for you. My friends never came, so I’ve been here the whole time, nell. I told ’em I was bored, so they rigged me up an internet connection... and between playing games and building plamodels and watching anime... I guess I managed to fill the time and then some, nell.”
“You’ve spent ten years like this?”
“Yep, that’s what it comes down to. ...Say, I’m hungry.” Dornell picked up the phone on his desk. “...Hey, it’s me. Could you bring in some snacks? Yeah... how ’bout some karamucho. And oolong tea. And three cups, nell.”
He finished his unceremonious request, returned the phone to its cradle, then waddled up to the bars. He opened the cell door with a clink and beckoned them in. “Come on in, nell. It’s kind of a mess, sure, but...”
“It’s not locked, ron?”
“Yeah. We all got sick of dealing with it.”
“......” What on earth was happening here?
Macaron and Isuzu, who had been raring to escape just moments ago, entered Dornell’s cell(?) with an air of complete deflation. The weasel mascot pushed some empty Amazon boxes aside, revealing two tatami chairs upon which he urged them to sit. Trepidatiously, they accepted his offer.
“Dornell. Everyone in the park thinks you’re missing, ron. Frankly, we assumed you were dead.”
“Ahh. Well, that figures,” Dornell said indifferently.
“Your co-workers were worried. And it’s not good for someone to stay in a place like this for so long, ron. Why didn’t you let the park know you were okay, ron?”
“Oh. Well at first, I was just gonna use my captivity as a long vacation, nell. But I managed to craft a pretty ideal environment here, as you can see... and then I got addicted to this MMO they were beta testing... and before I knew it, a year had passed.”
“What’s an MMO?” Isuzu, who knew very little about video games, asked.
“It’s an online game, ron. Now that he mentions it, there was a boom in those massive time-sink types around then...”
“It felt a little awkward to contact the park after a whole year, so I just wiled my time away here instead... to be frank, I really settled in, nell. They bring me all the food I can eat, and I can order pretty much anything else I want online...”
He’s trash, Isuzu realized. She was in the presence of yet another piece of absolute garbage.
“Ahh, I see. MMOs can be trouble, ron. I hear Narukawa-san hims
elf wasted a year on Lineage II, ron.”
“Who?” Dornell questioned.
“But here’s what I can’t figure out, ron. You’ve been hidden down here for all these years. Why didn’t you end up fading out due to monos?”
“Dunnell. I think it’s because I got popular playing as a girl online.”
“Ridiculous!” Macaron scoffed.
“Anyway, I like the life I have now, nell. You can have your tea, but when you’re done, I hope you’ll go home and leave me here, nell.”
“Go home? We can get out of here?” Isuzu and Macaron both pounced on the phrase.
“Sure, probably,” Dornell shrugged. “Never tried it myself, of course.”
“But where exactly did this maze come from?” Isuzu said, pressing him for details. “You asked someone for tea earlier, and someone’s bringing you those game systems and computers... There’s so much I don’t understand. Would you mind enlightening us?”
“Ohh, well—” Just as he was about to begin, another creature appeared in the cell. It was a little mole-like mascot carrying a tray with a bottle of oolong tea, cups, and snack treats.
“Mr. Customer, sir. We’ve brought your tea, mog.”
“Thanks a million!” Dornell opened the cell door and took the tea and snacks like a patron interacting with an attendant in a karaoke parlor.
Isuzu and Macaron both stared, then sighed simultaneously: “...‘Customer’?”
Seiya, Moffle, and Tiramii were in a corner of the maze, panting and trying to calm themselves down.
They’d had to fight back minor enemies, run from mid-bosses, dodge bizarre traps, solve block puzzle mini-games within time limits to open doors... At the end of it, they were all battered and exhausted.
They had given their enemies the slip for now, it seemed, but they could end up in combat again at any time.
“Pant... pant... The last time I used a shovel this much was... never, actually,” Seiya moaned. “You guys might be into this yakuza stuff, but I’m a manager, remember?! A white-collar worker!”
“A white-collar worker, at 850 yen per hour? Ridiculous, fumo. You’re more cut out to clean ditches, fumo.” Moffle wheezed. As tough and strong as he was, even he couldn’t hide his exhaustion.
“Clean ditches, huh?” Seiya scoffed in return. “Sounds more like a job for a sewer rat like you.”
“Hahh... hahh... could you guys save the banter for a less crucial time, mii? I hate Hollywood clichés, mii...” As he spoke, Tiramii rooted around in his pouch. “Bad news, mii. I’m out of Molotovs. Maybe I have some chemical fertilizer lying around... with a nitric acid base, I could probably concoct something explosive...”
“Could the Fairy of Flowers please refrain from discussing explosive fertilizer?” Seiya requested.
“Fair enough, mii... It’s just, I’ve always wanted to make a big boom and then say: ‘heh, dirty fireworks!’”
“I thought you hated Hollywood clichés, fumo.”
“A-Anyway... We need to figure out where we are.” Leaning on his shovel like a walking stick, Seiya picked himself up.
He checked his watch and saw that it was past 2:30 pm. This wasn’t good; there were only 90 minutes left until the meeting. The meeting! Seiya despaired. So much more important than this stupid dungeon dive!
“I didn’t have time to memorize which path we took when,” he admitted, “so I have no idea where we are right now. I can get an idea of the direction we’re facing, but—” Seiya pulled out his smartphone and checked his compass app. Moffle peered at his smartphone screen from the side.
“Moffu. So this way is north, fumo. Then I’d reckon we must be... ugh, I don’t know.”
“If I’d known this would happen, I would have installed a pedometer app, but... hmm?” Seiya’s brow knitted. The smartphone’s Wi-Fi window opened and prompted him to choose a network.
LAN connections are available? he wondered. This deep underground? The network names were “mogmog001” and “mogmog002.” It wasn’t a weak signal, either: he was getting three bars. Unfortunately, both networks required a password.
It didn’t make sense. Was it possible they were fairly close to the surface, and a wireless connection happened to be passing through a nearby cavern?
“I’m not detecting any caverns like that, mii...” Tiramii said, while searching the surrounding walls.
While he did that, Seiya tried as many passwords as he could think of, but none of them worked. “Ugh... if we could only connect, we could check our current location and ask for help...”
“Tiramii. Can’t you do anything, fumo?”
“I doubt it, mii. It’s not like I’m a super hacker. Dammit!”
For a moment, he thought he’d found a way out of this, but it seemed their chances of calling for help on the internet were nil. He checked the time; he’d wasted five minutes messing around like this.
“Seiya. You’ve been checking the time an awful lot, fumo. Is there a problem?”
“...I had a meeting to get to. I can’t afford to be late.”
“We’re trapped in a dungeon, and you’re worried about work? Miish, I knew you were a workaholic, but still...”
Just then, they heard a crowd of footsteps from the corridor ahead. They were accompanied by dangerous metal scraping sounds, shrieks and growls.
A horde of enemies was heading this way.
“Ugh... they caught up to us again,” Seiya groaned.
“I feel I ought to remind you that I’m out of Molotovs, mii!”
“We don’t have a choice. Let’s run further in, fumo!” Moffle took off running.
“Further in?” Seiya questioned. “What good will that do us?!”
“None, but staying here to fight will waste time and energy, fumo!” Moffle was, of course, correct. With no alternatives, Seiya and Tiramii ran after him.
But the enemies weren’t only coming from behind. They rushed at them from ahead, too, and poured out from around corners.
“There’s more?!”
“We’ll have to bust through, fumo!”
They smashed into the enemy mass, punching, kicking, throwing—they ran right, ran left, climbed up and jumped down. They did it over and over and over again, until at last they came out into a straightforward hallway. The mobs of minor enemies didn’t let up for a second.
“They’re so damned stubborn!”
Half crawling, half scrambling, Seiya and the others rushed down the hallway, kicked down a large door and leaped inside. The enemy was hot on their heels.
“Shut it! Shut the door!”
They shoved closed the double-doors that Moffle and Tiramii had just kicked open, and then Seiya used his shovel as a bar through the handles.
“...!”
They were just in the nick of time. The enemy slammed into the door behind them. It shook, but didn’t open. The slam was followed by a persistent banging on the door, but for now, their pursuers seemed to be trapped on the other side. They’d probably break through eventually, but it would hold for a while, at least.
“Let’s get some distance while we can!” Wiping at the sweat dripping from his chin, Seiya hurried away from the door.
But Moffle and Tiramii didn’t move. They were staring deeper into the room—Seiya only just realized that it was a room—with their backs to him.
“Hey, what are you doing? Hurry up and—”
In fact, it was less a room and more a great banquet hall. It was about half as wide as a school gymnasium, and three stories tall, at the least. The walls and pillars were decorated with ominous carvings, and regularly-placed braziers cast eerie shadows across them.
In the very back of the chamber lay a dragon.
A dragon! He was the size of a ten-wheeler, with legs as thick as trees, and covered all over with dazzling crimson scales. On his back were wings large enough to cover the whole chamber at full extension.
Slowly, the dragon raised his spiky head to look down on the petrified party.
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br /> “Oh, come on... what are we supposed to do now, fumo?” Moffle whispered weakly.
“We’re trapped...” Seiya admitted.
They were exhausted. They were out of real weapons. And behind them, a massive horde of monsters was still trying to break the door down. Defeating the dragon in front of them seemed to be the only way to proceed.
A “level boss”... In a properly designed dungeon, there would be a room before this one with healing items or buffs, or at least a save point.
Tiramii spoke to Moffle in a terrified whisper, his fur standing on end: “Hey, Moffle... this isn’t that Arkhangelsk, is it?”
“No,” Moffle whispered back. “That was a typhoon-class dragon—much bigger, with black and silver scales, fumo. Besides, I took one of its eyes out, and more importantly...” Moffle clenched his paw into a fist. “...Idina slew that one, fumo.”
“R-Right, mii...”
What are they talking about? Seiya wondered. He found their conversation completely opaque. Actually, he did feel like he had an idea of what they meant, but he didn’t have time to think about it now.
The dragon let out a low growl, then spoke. 《Small ones...》
Tiramii cried out, “It can talk! The lizard can talk, mii!”
And a chibi dog that can talk is normal? Seiya thought wryly, but opted not to interject.
《Small ones... Why have you disturbed my slumber?》 His majestic voice resounded throughout the room. At the very least, he didn’t seem about to fall on them immediately.
《I am the red dragon, Rubrum. Answer me. Why have you disrupted my slumber?》
“What should we do, fumo?” Moffle whispered.
“How should I know?” Seiya asked rhetorically, also keeping his voice low. “We’ll just have to talk to him.”
“Go for it, mii. You’re the negotiator, Kanie-kun.”
“Huh? ...Ugh.”
Moffle also seemed to be looking at him as if to say, “do something already.” Seiya had to admit that he couldn’t imagine much good coming from leaving the negotiations to the mascots. So, with no other choice, he took a step forward and cleared his throat. “Ah... red dragon Rubrum, was it? We recognize that we woke you up... and we apologize. You see, we didn’t have any choice but to flee to this room...”