Isekai Rebuilding Project: Volume 1

by Yukika Minamino

  “In any case, I want to avoid that kind of future.”

  “It may not even be worth entertaining the possibility.”

  “Refrigerator’s a no-go, I guess.”

  “We aren’t completely out of options.”

  “Let’s hear what your—”

  Interrupting me, the door to our quarters opened and an employee of the shop came flying through it.

  “Sir Eiji! There’s a messenger from the royal court!”

  Here we go, I thought. There was no way that the Kingdom of Azur would idly watch as we furthered our plans.

  From just looking at the numbers of Mister Milon’s business over the past half month, it was easy to see the exorbitant amount of money that was coming in. There was no reason for the government not to take notice, especially since our intention was to save the people of Azur from an epidemic.

  Unfortunately, I was sure they hadn’t taken notice too kindly. In modern-day Japan, anyone was free to help people, do good deeds, and volunteer their time. In a medieval society, though, it wasn’t that simple. The most popular person in the kingdom had to be the king. A hero other than the king saving the people? Unthinkable!

  I may sound like a broken record, but the only reason some high schooler transported from our world can get away with such flashy accomplishments was because they occupy a fictional world. Someone who was summoned for the benefit of this world in its time of need would, of course, be used for the benefit of this world, and discarded after there was no use for them. While that may sound awfully cut and dry, that’s reality for you.

  “He is a lazy bum who wanted a hero to take care of all of his problems. Naturally, he would take the easiest method when dealing with the aftermath,” Tiamat said. I mostly agreed.

  “And if the hero wants to avoid such a fate, he’s left with two options.”

  Once peace was restored to the world, the hero could say his farewells and disappear somewhere, or else he could utilize the cheat codes bestowed upon him to usurp the highest power. He had to choose one or the other.

  “In Azur, the hero chose the latter.”

  “Right.”

  I chuckled, as I cleaned myself up before meeting the royal messenger. According to legends, after vanquishing the Demon Lord, the hero married the king’s daughter, and eventually inherited the throne from his father-in-law.

  Who knew how much of this was true? Any institution, a country, army, etc. would be hard pressed to give up the power they have. This is evident just from looking back on the history of Japan. When Tokugawa Yoshinobu moved to return governmental control to the emperor, it wasn’t like everyone obediently followed. Even Oda Nobunaga, who was promised the nation by Saito Dosan, took a decade before he controlled the state of Mino by taking down Tatsuoki, Dosan’s grandson.

  No country has gone through a change in power without blood. It was only evident. I imagined that Mister Hero slaughtered every one of his opposition on his way to the throne. That in itself wasn’t out of the ordinary. Any kingdom must have started with some form of robbery or usurpation or conquering. Even the very beginning of the British Empire is said to be of some pirate captain or a leader of a gang of outlaws.

  We were shown to the meeting room, where the messenger was already waiting for us. He was a middle-aged man, sitting at the seat opposite from the door like he owned the place.

  With just one glance, I knew I hated him. While he was the guest, and might have been been entitled to that seat, why did he have Mister Milon and Miss Millia sitting on the floor?

  However, despite how much I despised and loathed someone, I had a special ability of never showing a lick of it. Most bureaucrats employed the same skill, since anyone coming to complain at a city office had the same kind of attitude this messenger had. I didn’t know if they thought they were above everyone else, or if they thought government workers were below everyone else, but I did know that trying to genuinely talk to these types was a waste of time.

  I would treat this man by the book. Put myself down, and it would only inflate their ego. Speak logically, and they would start claiming that the government was oppressing them.

  “Nice to meet you. My name is Eiji. I was told you’re here to see me.”

  “I am Viscount Zahreed,” the messenger introduced himself, full of self-grandeur.

  Interesting. A noble sent as a messenger. Apparently they weren’t sending any lowly bureaucrat as their first scout. They either didn’t have the time for it, or had some other reason to send this man first.

  “And how can I help you?”

  I sat down on the couch opposite him. While I wasn’t offered to sit, Viscount Zahreed didn’t reprimand me for it.

  “There are rumors that you are using disreputable knowledge to deceive the people of our nation.”

  That was rather straightforward. Hmm. Perhaps, despite his self-grandeur, he wasn’t given too much power to negotiate.

  “I see.”

  “A Hermit’s knowledge is disreputable? Has the royalty of this nation no decency?”

  While I only acknowledged the question, Tiamat, standing behind me, called out in an offended tone. The messenger’s expression froze.

  8.

  “N-Not that I share those sentiments. I am here only by obligation to my assignment.”

  The messenger’s voice cracked a little. We didn’t have to bully the guy too much.

  “Now, now, Tia. It’s not easy being a bureaucrat.”

  “Hm. Not much he can do if he’s here by orders.”

  With my consolation, Tiamat backed off. This was a little skit of ours. Good cop, bad cop. The more Viscount Zahreed cowered from Tiamat, the more approachable I would seem in contrast. While either of us could have played either part, I wouldn’t have made for a very intimidating bad cop. Of course a dragon’s glare packed more of a punch than a measly bureaucrat’s.

  “Our Great King, His Majesty will question you.”

  Managing to control his voice, the messenger told us this.

  “So, he wants us to come to the castle?”

  “Indeed.”

  Getting angry over the king’s lack of etiquette in summoning us when he was the one that wanted something from us would not have advanced our situation. The will of any nation’s sole leader supersedes its own laws and common decency. If the king calls it white, so must a crow be white.

  “Understood. I have a matter I would like to bring to the king’s attention as well. I’ll take it as a lucky coincidence.”

  “Very well. I have a carriage waiting out front.”

  He certainly came prepared. With a nod, I rose to my feet, and Tiamat followed. In the corner of my eye I noticed the Viscount’s relieved expression. It seemed that the title Hermit did, indeed, carry a special weight.

  I felt no special emotion regarding the castle itself. I had no knowledge of their architecture and style, after all. I only acknowledged that it seemed at least bigger and more elaborate than the Melon Castle in Yubari or the NIXE castle (slash aquarium) in Noboribetsu.

  We were not shown to the royal hall or anywhere, but to a courtyard. It was several times larger than Mister Milon’s, and well maintained. There was even a gazebo, too. It was super extravagant, but a common man’s (albeit a successful businessman’s) manor and a royal castle wasn’t much of a comparison.

  “Private meeting, you think?” I asked.

  “Most likely. He can’t publicly denounce our doings, but praising us could put a ding against the king’s power. Seems that he does want to meet us face-to-face in order to discover our intentions.”

  While we were left waiting, Tiamat and I engaged in a short huddle. That being said there wasn’t much to decide at this point. We would meet with the king, have him decide on a price for the beet sugar, and begin controlling its pipeline. In addition, we would have him encourage the public to eat edamame and gagd meat. These would be our two requests. We had already completed more detailed planning, like which negotiation
tactics to use, over the past half-month.

  “My guess was that we would end up defending ourselves in the royal hall.”

  Actually, that would have been better. Any decisions made in that situation would have directly been implemented in policy... I assumed. Since I knew little about the governing of medieval nations, I wasn’t entirely sure. I only had my own preconception that a public promise would not be broken too easily.

  “That would be difficult. We are Hermits. He couldn’t very well place those that share the origin of the Hero King on the same level as his other petitioners.”

  “Mister Hero was a Hermit?”

  “Didn’t I tell you?”

  “Only just now.”

  “More precisely, he was thought to be a Hermit. He didn’t call himself one. According to his biography, he was depicted as a Hermit and hero who hailed from the realm of dragons.”

  Tiamat added that it was most likely a backstory added to boost his authority. Glorified. Idolized. This was the sort of description found in any account of a nation’s founding, including Japan, of course. While some of these myths could be shrugged off by residents of the modern world, we were in a medieval fantasy world.

  “That’s why we called ourselves Hermits.”

  In order to give authority to our actions that would follow. It was an explanation easier for people to swallow than mere humans trying to save other people.

  “Hm. It’s not really a lie, either. It’s true that you’ve both come from the same place.”

  The dragon cackled. If the people in this world wanted to think of modern Japan as the realm of dragons, that was their prerogative, she added.

  “A con artist would be blown away by that logic.”

  I shrugged. Moving things along with the assumption that people will misunderstand, and making no efforts to correct them. That was the definition of intent, if you ask me. Under Tiamat’s clutches, the innocent people of this world were conned easier than those tricked into paying off their unsuspected debt to the IRS in gift cards.

  “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

  “Okay. It wasn’t really, though.”

  As we engaged in stupid chatter, a figure appeared from within the inner quarters. The figure had a large stature for a resident of this world, and while they were faint, he still had some East Asian features. He was a young man with brownish-blonde hair and mahogany eyes, with an impressive build. His age seemed close to mine or a little older, but it was difficult to judge his actual age by appearance.

  He was the master of the castle, the ruler of Azur, Reinhart V. His full name was Reinhart Mishima, a direct descendant of the hero who overtook this country. The hero’s great-great-great-grandchild. He was the fifth because the direct line of royal heirs have all been called Reinhart.

  I couldn’t help but find his surname, Mishima, a little funny. Of course, no one is responsible for their own name, so I wouldn’t show the disrespect of laughing at it.

  The king was accompanied by merely three guards. Tiamat and I stood and bowed.

  “An honor to be in your presence, Your Majesty.”

  “I apologize for having you come all this way, Mister Hermit.”

  While he didn’t go as far as to put himself down in the apology, that was a pretty frank response. Or else he might have caught wind that his messenger had upset Tiamat.

  “You can’t make the trip yourself, Your Majesty. I understand that it was necessary.”

  “Thanks for saying that, Lord Eiji.”

  The king gestured to a chair in a gracious manner. He didn’t seem like the malicious ruler I was expecting. Then I realized he wasn’t malicious at all. In this country, no tax was higher than it needed to be, there was no war... His people lived in peace. He just didn’t know that, in the shadows of peace and prosperity, the downfall of his nation was quietly approaching.

  “You may know this already, but my ancestor was also a Hermit.”

  “Hm, I do. Shizuru. I’ve spoken with him a few times.”

  Tiamat was the one who answered. I couldn’t tell if that was true or not. Actually, I was pretty sure she was lying. This dragon practically exhaled smoke instead of air. What a character.

  “Oh!”

  And the king was easily fooled. You know, I wanted to say, you should be just a little more suspicious. There was no guarantee that anything a Dragon or a Hermit said was fact.

  Shizuru Mishima, huh...?

  That name rang a bell. It evoked a none too pleasant memory too. I never expected to hear that name after traveling across worlds. Was he really the hero I’ve been hearing about? Was he shepherded to this world after ending his own life?

  “Not that I was too close to him.”

  “Please. I sense some work of destiny. I don’t even know my own ancestor’s face.”

  King Reinhart burst out laughing. Well, duh. It would have been bizarre for him to have held a conversation with his ancestor six generations before him. Since the photograph hadn’t been invented in this world, I assumed he had only seen his face in a painting.

  A servant, holding a tray of tea and snacks, approached us courteously. It seemed that the king was ready to spend a portion of his afternoon for us.

  9.

  Tiamat was picking at the treats, throwing one after another into her gullet.

  Hey dummy, have a shred of self-control, will you?

  The king’s going to think Hermits starve themselves.

  “Hm. Rather tasty. Much more refined than our Zunda mochi.”

  No surprise there. They must have honey or something in it instead of beet sugar, and it must have been made by the best of the best. Why make the comparison with our amateur sweet?

  “That’s it. I requested your presence because I am intrigued by the things you are selling.”

  King Reinhart smoothly segued into the topic on his mind. It was impressive, unless Tiamat teed it up for him on purpose. The intrigue between them seemed so high-level that I couldn’t really interject.

  I slurped on my tea, which was really sweet. Perhaps it was a flex, like ‘taste how much honey is in here,’ and ‘that’s how rich I am!’ Everything in moderation, Your Majesty.

  “In order to explain our products, we need to begin at the ailment plaguing the city.”

  “Ailment?”

  “Hm. An ailment caused by eating too much white rice. We Hermits call it ‘beriberi.’”

  The king began to ponder, it looked like. I’m sure he had never heard of such a disease. Still, there had been indirect deaths caused by beriberi for years. Those he must have heard about. I wondered how King Reinhart interpreted the disease that previously had unknown causes and no cure.

  “The Hermit Beans you are selling is medicine for that ailment?”

  “Not medicine. Senzu contain nutrition that prevents beriberi. Same with the gagd meat. We taught how to make Zunda mochi as another method to feed it to the people.”

  Tiamat laughed. Her explanation was largely on point. Was there anything I could add?

  “Hm. You are saving my people, then?”

  “Not as grandiose as that. We’re only cleaning up Shizuru’s mess.”

  Don’t say it like it.

  “What?”

  And now the king was upset. Even the most forgiving person would have been, if their ancestor’s shortcomings were mocked. I felt the need to clear the air. Almost as if to raise my hand in interjection...

  Huh? My arm won’t move. Wait, why am I so groggy all of a sudden?

  “Wh...”

  What’s happening, Tia? was what I was trying to ask my partner.

  But I couldn’t. What came up my throat wasn’t my voice but a red glob. It fell out of my mouth.

  What is that...? What’s happening...?

  “Eiji!? You bastard! What did you do!?”

  I could hear my partner’s enraged voice in the distance. That was the last thing I sensed in that world.

  “A little short of a month.
That was quite the quick return, Eiji Kazama.”

  In a space with nothing in it, my consciousness gradually becoming more clear, a woman’s voice slid into my ear canals. I knew this place.

  “...I see... I died...”

  Back where I started. Me, standing still like an idiot, opposite the gorgeous lady.

  “Yes. With your life ended, you came back as promised. Surprising that it took you less than a month, but not so that you were poisoned.”

  Ah, I was poisoned. Probably through the tea that was served. It was probably over sweetened to mask the taste of it or something. That was rather careful of him. With or without sweetener, I wouldn’t have been able to taste any poison.

  “He seemed friendly to me...”

  “He had summoned you with intent to kill you from the beginning. Surely he would put on a friendly act.”

  There was no room for discourse from the get-go. King Reinhart was asking us questions, but I was sure that was an act, too. He had already done his research on what we’d done and why. His motive? Easy. His country wasn’t big enough for two heroes. Anyone who would discredit the accomplishments of Shizuru the Hero-King was only an obstacle. So, he killed me.

  “That’s right. I assume you’re mostly correct. Good observation.”

  “A fool thinks in afterthoughts, right? What’s the good in observing things after I’ve been killed?” I shrugged.

  “Touché. To add a little more context, the kingdom had been keeping tabs on you the entire time, since you called yourselves Hermits when entering the city.”

  “Ooh. It goes back that far, does it?”

  The guard we met was loyal to his job. He had reported us to his superiors. As he appeared, he must have been the kind of person to do things by the book.

  “So we were being walked on a leash.”

  “Correct. Want me to explain why?”

  “I have a pretty good guess.”

  A traveling duo of Hermits. They were about to come across the population of a country plagued by ailment. Would they let them be, or move to save them? The government pegged us to do the latter. So did the hero-king of old, after all. Overzealous to save anyone who needs saving. Both the hero-king and I were typical Japanese.