Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon, Vol. 1

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Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon, Vol. 1 Page 5

by Hirukuma,


  “Welcome.”

  It seems like I just need to put in a word or two every now and then to show him I’m listening, and I have to admit, it’s easy to just keep saying “Welcome.”

  A hunting party… It’s only been a week since I got here, but I have been seeing new hunters showing up often lately.

  “And now I’m thirsty, but I’m getting tired of the same old drinks.”

  Well, that’s because you buy at least five of them every day. Though maybe it is about time I stock something new. I’ve built up a fair supply of points, after all. I instantly became famous over the past week for my uniqueness and the flavor of my products, so I’ve had surprisingly good sales. Let’s take a look-see.

  [Vending Machine]

  (C) Mineral Water

  ¥1,000 1SC (x130)

  (C) Milk Tea

  ¥1,000 1SC (x24)

  (W) Corn Soup

  ¥1,000 1SC (x19)

  (N) Pressed Potato Chips

  ¥1,000 1SC (x36)

  PT 3,253

  {Features} Cold Retention, Heat Retention

  {Blessings} Force Field

  Thanks to refilling several times and selling over four hundred items, I have more than three thousand points now. I’ve been saving them up, since there’s no telling what’s to come, but I’m getting an itch to add a new feature, too.

  Even the cheaper features that I want cost a thousand points to add, so I’ve been sitting on the fence about it, but I should be able to buy at least one without worrying too much.

  Wait, maybe I should do the reasonable thing and get different products. For example, if I get the cup ramen Hot-Water-Dispenser feature, it would change my vending machine body. I’m nervous about it affecting the other items, but… No, I can already put up barriers, add features at will, and my human mind resides within a vending machine. Maybe I shouldn’t be worrying about something so sensible.

  Now, then. Rather than letting my thoughts roam free, I should consider the needs of my customers first. The gatekeepers, Karios and Gorth, are my most frequent users. Let’s think about what they might want.

  I recall they wanted something more filling. I’d like to offer them cans of oden stew, but will they be able to open them? It doesn’t look like pull tabs are common in this world like they were in mine, and I can’t give detailed explanations, either.

  I suppose I have to give up… No wait, that could work!

  Remembering something, I search through the list of makers, find what I’m after, and use thirty points to add one hundred cans of oden.

  “Whoa, you lit up. And now there’s a new item in ya. The price… Three thousand, eh? Three silvers is a bit steep. But there’s something new to buy, so I can’t hold back!”

  I feel you. I totally understand. A new item in a vending machine is a terrible magic. I empathize so much it hurts. All the more if the container has a delicious-looking photo of rising steam printed on it—I wouldn’t have been able to resist.

  Come to think of it, the fact that they understand the numbers but not any of the letters still feels weird to me, but that just brings up the question of why those characters are there at all. I’ll just chalk it up to some sorcery at work.

  The strata in this dungeon, compared to the outside world, seem to be easier places to save up money, but it’s probably more dangerous as well. For those who can dance around the high-risk, high-return investment effectively, it certainly seems like people don’t have any financial issues.

  That’s why the merchants here have chosen to do business in a dangerous land. They can sell everything for a higher price than on the surface, and it’s more likely they’ll come across precious goods.

  The gatekeepers protecting the settlement itself seem to be compensated handsomely, which is why they favor me with their business so much. I don’t think this price setting would work if I were dropped in a safe town on the surface.

  “Oh, this one’s hot. Wait, how do you open it?”

  I thought that would trip him up. But take a good look at the can. I know from this past week that Karios and Gorth are both very observant, so I’m hopeful.

  Karios picks up the can in his fingers and looks at it closely. Gorth takes interest as well and watches out of the corner of his eye. After turning the can around once, both of them seem to notice.

  “Hmm? There’s a picture on here. Is this how to open it and how to eat what’s inside?”

  That’s right. This manufacturer’s oden is made for people who aren’t familiar with the packaging, and it has a detailed explanation drawn on the side.

  After a certain place in Tokyo nicknamed “electric town” popularized it, canned oden spread overseas as well. Enthusiastic tourists started buying it, but many foreigners didn’t know how to eat it, which led to an outbreak of burning incidents. This manufacturer decided to put a clear set of easy-to-understand instructions on the can so even people who didn’t understand the language could still figure it out.

  “Hmm. So you give the thing on top a little bend, and a pull… Whoa, now that’s a good smell! And then you push it all the way up, and it’s open!”

  Great, phase one is complete. Now I can provide cans of this type to these two. My product lineup is getting bigger. They’ll spread the word to the others, so in a few weeks, most of my regulars should be able to handle it.

  Karios pulls out one of the skewers stuck in the oden to make it easier to eat. It’s got the golden trio on it: quail egg, chikuwa fish cake, and konjak cake.

  As a thin trail of steam rises from the skewer, he puts it in his mouth, biting into the quail egg sitting at the top first. After chewing twice, steam erupts from his nostrils and he squints. “Oh, oh, wow. This is insanely good. This might be my new favorite. The boiled egg has a complex flavor, but it’s still light inside, and the moment I put it in my mouth, the juice mixed with the yolk just flows right out… Man, this is good! I bet it would go great with booze.”

  Finished with the quail egg, he takes a bite of the chikuwa.

  “Shoot, this has a ton of flavor, too. Irresistible! I’ve never had something with a texture like this before, but it tastes vaguely fishy. How on earth do they make these? Under that is… Oh, whoa, it’s soft like jelly, but I still like it. Ha-ha-ha. Interesting!”

  It looks like Karios is enjoying the chikuwa and the konjak, too. He drinks up all the soup stock as well. Then, with a satisfied look, he fishes three more silver coins out of his wallet before Gorth interrupts and inserts his own coins.

  “H-hey, I was just about to buy one!”

  “I’m next.”

  That had the perfect effect on them. Looks like I can expect these cans of oden to sell.

  That was how word of the oden got out and caused a local boom in Clearflow Lake. The recent weather—considering how cold it’s been getting—contributed to my sales, too, so I should be able to look forward to further success.

  A Day in the Life of a Vending Machine

  My daily schedule since arriving here goes like this…

  It starts early in the morning in front of the inn. I don’t have to rest at night, but I recently learned how to go into sleep mode, which lets me consume only half the usual points. It’s no problem at all if I don’t sleep, but for some reason it feels good when I wake up.

  “Good morning, Boxxo!”

  I hear Lammis’s voice, full of life even this early. These days, she’s been mostly wearing the inn’s worker uniform.

  To catch you up, Boxxo seems to be my name now. Lammis was the one who christened me, obviously. When she heard the innkeeper’s daughter, Munami, calling me “Box,” she said it didn’t sound cute, so she named me Boxxo instead.

  I have some doubts about her naming sense, to be honest, but with how happy her face looked at the time, there was really nothing I could do but accept it with a “Welcome.”

  “Let’s do our best again today!”

  “Welcome.”

  As she wipes me down
with a cloth, she starts talking to me like always. I feel like she’s more cut out to be an employee at the inn than a hunter risking life and limb for money, but I’m sure she has her own thoughts on that.

  With both of us preparing to work hard again today, I drop a sports drink—a new product I started stocking a few days ago—into my compartment.

  “Is it okay to have another one today?”

  “Welcome.”

  “Thanks!”

  Just looking at her drinking it so happily gives my mechanical body a warm feeling. I think.

  Lately, I’ve learned a lot about my new body—the inner workings of the vending machine—and I figured out how to give items for free.

  Every nook and cranny of my body is clean, sparkling in the morning sun. Now I’m ready for another full day of work.

  A few minutes after she goes back inside the inn, my regulars appear in front of me.

  “Welcome.”

  “Yes, good morning. I just can’t start the day without having some of this soup.”

  “You too, Granny? I love this sweet tea so much that I can’t get motivated without drinking some.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong. Water is best in the morning. A bottle of it to wake you up is the greatest feeling.”

  An old married couple and a skinny young man are chatting.

  From what I recall, the old couple makes a living teaching hunters how to train and use their Blessings. Rumor has it they were both incredibly skilled hunters back in their heyday.

  The young man is son and heir to a nearby tool shop and always comes to the cafeteria on the first floor of the inn to eat when lunchtime rolls around. According to Lammis, he has a thing for the innkeeper’s poster girl, Munami.

  “Thank you. Please come again.”

  I give my usual thanks to the three of them and watch as they walk away.

  Then, as though they timed it right when they went out of sight, four stalwart men appear.

  “Phew. Glad the night shift’s over with. What should I have today?”

  “Welcome.”

  It’s Karios’s group, the number-one contributors to my sales. They’re in charge of the settlement’s gates as well as peacekeeping inside them. All four frequently come by when their shifts change.

  As usual, they purchase their beverages and pressed potato chips, then head out. Now is when I have free time. Incidentally, I don’t stock cans of oden when I’m in front of the inn in the morning. They provide breakfast inside, and I don’t want to interfere with their business.

  After the start of business in the morning, customers become more irregular, coming in bit by bit. My prices are a little high, and only so many regularly buy anything. Most customers buy two or three things a week.

  A little before noon, groups of people equipped with armor and weapons start to appear from the direction of the local branch of the Hunters Association.

  “We’ll be back before tomorrow, but don’t forget to buy some water. If you have room in your pockets, buy a can of cooked food or a red tube, too.”

  “Um, how do you buy things from this?”

  “You don’t know? Guess I’ll have to teach you.”

  A man with a stubbly beard dressed in black armor, who seems to be the group’s leader, explains the process to them a little boastfully. I remember him—he came to the vending machine four days ago, timing it so that nobody else was around, timid and trembling as he bought items.

  He practiced this beforehand. Mysteriously, his stern features have somehow started seeming cute to me.

  My products are airtight and disappear immediately after use, making them popular among hunters heading out to explore or to slay monsters. Female hunters seem to love the tea, and I’ve heard rumors that they’ve split up into a lemon-tea side and a milk-tea side.

  I’ve been offering coffee, too, but it’s not very popular. One or two of my customers are passionate about it, though, so I won’t pull it, but I might want to exchange it for café au lait.

  This is the time when hunters who often sleep late come shopping, so I usually put the cans of oden back on sale.

  When noon comes around, I pull the oden again. This is the busiest time for the inn’s cafeteria, so I set to work attracting customers by saying “Welcome” to bring as many inside for lunch as I can. And I never forget to send them off with a “Thank you” when they’re finished eating.

  Once lunchtime is over and foot traffic becomes scarce, I can’t miss something small moving around in my peripheral vision.

  The little rascal is here again. There is a girl who will basically always come around this time of day. Just the sight of her light-brown twin-tails makes the kid look sassy. She’s probably around ten years old.

  Her clothing is fairly well tailored compared to the rest of the settlement’s. She seems like the quintessential spoiled highborn girl.

  Wooden walls may surround the place, but monsters are on the prowl beyond them—the settlement can’t be called safe by any stretch of the imagination. At first, I couldn’t help finding it odd that a child like her is here, but apparently, she’s the granddaughter of a wealthy merchant who runs a large, stone-built shop here.

  I noticed her only a few days ago, but she seems to be strolling about the settlement as she pleases, though several bodyguards always follow at a distance. Well, I only know they’re bodyguards because one of the black-clothed men tailing her once bought a milk tea from me and complained about her.

  “Lady Suori’s tomboyish attitude is such a pain,” he said. “If she were a little more ladylike, our jobs would be so much easier.”

  At the time, I sympathized with the man in black, but now I just want to shout at him to discipline her properly. This Suori brat is far beyond the realm of just being playful.

  When I first saw her, she was staring at me mesmerized. When I invited her with a “Welcome,” she muttered, “My plan to be the first one to talk and have an advantage in negotiations has failed!” and ran away. When I heard her voice, I realized it was the girl Lammis had saved. That surprised me. At the time, I couldn’t see her face very well under her hat.

  The problems started the next day. If she had stayed far away to puff out her cheeks and glare at me, that would have been fine. But she picked up a stone at her feet and threw it at me for some unknown reason. A weak girl throwing a rock at me didn’t even scratch me, but it made me mad. Still, I decided to overlook it, since she was a little kid, but then we come to the day after that.

  She came right up to me with a bag on her shoulder. I thought she was about to buy something, but instead, she dumped a pile of pebbles out of her bag and into my compartment. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so at my loudest volume, I said:

  “Insert coins.”

  The up-close shout seemed to startle her. She fell right onto her backside.

  “H-how rude! Who…? Just wh-who do you think I am, huh?!”

  She spoke in an odd tone of voice but looked crazy angry. Then four men and women in black jumped out and grabbed her. It wasn’t a fun sight to behold.

  She cried out for someone to destroy me, but the people in black dragged her away and things settled down. But that’s when the situation went downhill.

  Apparently, Suori’s a very prideful girl and wouldn’t forgive me for frightening her. Her pranks got worse by the day. Once, she tried to throw a paint-like substance onto me, but I surprised her again and it ended up all over her. Another time, she tried to damage me with a thick branch, but she tripped and started crying. None of it had gone well for her, but it was too much for me to laugh off as though she were only pretending to be some brave warrior.

  I’m on my guard for what she’ll bring to the table today…but she’s got her head down, plodding along on her lonely way. It would be a great performance if she was faking it, but I don’t think a kid with such an easy-to-read personality could pull off an act that clever.

  Hmm… She’s standing in front of
me, but she’s not trying to pull any pranks, right? The young girl just stands there, staring without seeing. When she looks up, I can see red around her eyes like she’s been crying. Maybe there was some trouble at home.

  Seeing someone who’s normally annoyingly energetic looking so down—it makes me want to do something for her. I guess that’s human nature. All right, all right. Time to show her a grown-up’s generosity.

  I’ll look through my list of items and pick something I think a kid would like. Orange juice should be appropriate—and not 100 percent or anything, but the kind with a lot of sugar.

  I guess that means going with that one famous maker from the commercials. Here we go. I stock the orange juice for the first time and drop one into my compartment.

  “Huh? What was that?”

  “Welcome.”

  It’s my treat today, young lady. Next time, use your own money to buy one like before.

  “Is it okay for me to have it for free?”

  Isn’t that a cute face? Holding her orange juice all surprised like that. She’s always wearing an angry, sulking, or pouting face, but things look hopeful for her future.

  “U-um, thank you.”

  “Please come again.”

  Before evening sets in, Lammis puts me on her back and carries me to the gate. It had been inconvenient to carry me around in her arms, so she bought a modified wooden rack for carrying loads, allowing her to move me around much more smoothly.

  I stand quietly after Lammis gently places me next to the gate. At night, I always stay here until the cafeteria and pub at the inn close up. The inn’s mistress bought a large quantity of pressed potato chips and cans of oden, too, providing them as snacks to go with their drinks.

  Out of gratitude to the inn for taking such good care of me, as a sort of payment, I mark everything down to half price whenever the mistress buys from me.

 

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