by Mamare Touno
Copyright
Log Horizon, Volume 11
Mamare Touno
Illustration by Kazuhiro Hara
Translation by Taylor Engel
Cover art by Kazuhiro Hara
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
LOG HORIZON, VOLUME 11
Krusty, Tycoon Lord
©Touno Mamare 2018
First published in Japan in 2018 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.
English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo, through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.
English translation © 2020 by Yen Press, LLC
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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First Yen On Edition: February 2020
Originally published in paperback in January 2019 by Yen On.
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ISBN: 978-1-9753-8388-6
E3-20200204-JV-NF-ORI
1
Peach blossom petals fluttered in the cool air, dancing by in ones and twos.
As their backdrop, rocky peaks with sheer surfaces jutted up through the clouds. Although faint wisps of greenery clung to their summits and hollows, they gave the impression of knife blades.
It would have been safe to call the view magnificent.
Due to the distance, they didn’t look large, but compared with the palace and the summerhouse where Krusty was reclining, every peak had to be several kilometers wide.
The sky was a subdued pale indigo. This fairyland protruded past the sea of clouds, but he sensed nothing as inconvenient as thin air or freezing temperatures. It was chilly, yes, but not bad enough to bother him if he wore a baggy traveling robe.
Krusty, who’d thrown himself down on a lounge chair that spilled over with cushions, gazed at the distant view from his position of decadence.
All the walls of this summerhouse had been removed; this place was above the clouds, so it never rained here. The roof, too, which was made with beautiful colored tiles, wasn’t strictly necessary; the wind was never strong. It was a very quiet, tranquil place.
A peach blossom petal parted from its twig and drifted down to Krusty, bringing along its fragrance as it settled onto his sleeve. He glanced at the petal out of the corner of his eye, but left it there, not bothering to brush it away.
The big wolf dog that lay by the base of the lounge wagged her tail lazily, so Krusty stroked her fur. She was far hungrier for attention than she looked.
The wolf dog’s tail happily thumped the floor.
“Master Immortal, your meal is ready.”
When he glanced over, Hua Diao had just appeared. The girl, who’d stated her business without bothering with greetings, was an attendant who saw to Krusty’s needs here at Bai Tao Shrine. She had adorable round ears, and she was wearing a pretty—if faded—indigo ruqun robe.
“Is it time for lunch already?”
“Yes, it is. Noon. The sun is shining brightly, you know.”
“Are you sure about that? The weather seems rather hazy.”
“That’s because this is an enchanted land. Even the sun shines brightly in a restrained manner. Wonderful to have such a good climate, isn’t it? All right, come to the dining room.”
“That seems like a lot of work.”
“I thought you’d say that, and so I brought it with me on a cart. I’m quite considerate, you see.”
“Is that right?” Krusty responded, sitting up.
He couldn’t say he was hungry, but he wasn’t so full that he couldn’t eat, either. It was a vast, vague sensation, but apparently, that was a basic attribute of this “fairyland.” In the two months since he’d arrived here, Krusty had grown completely used to the place.
As if she’d taken his attitude as permission, Hua Diao began briskly and efficiently setting out his meal. Although she was a bit of a busybody, she was a good, devoted servant.
The dishes on the table consisted of rice topped with sautéed vegetables and an amber-colored soup.
Hua Diao and the other heavenly martenfolk were civil servants, not cooks. Apparently, there were no Chefs in the shrine in the first place; the martenfolk had absolutely no skills in that area. Naturally, Hua Diao was no exception, and when Krusty had arrived, she’d had no cooking abilities whatsoever.
However, that wasn’t the worst of it. The tribe had been charged with the duties of tian li, or heavenly palace officials, and being strict about formalities, they were under the impression they had to prepare more than a dozen dishes for each meal. The result had been an array of ten or twenty failed recipes—vegetable scraps and charcoal—and it had just made him sad.
At this point, thanks to Krusty’s instruction, there had been substantial improvement. A rice bowl with sautéed vegetables was far from court cuisine, but the taste was worlds better. Most important of all, unlike charcoal, this was actually edible.
Krusty promptly set to work with his chopsticks and steadily ate his way through about half of it.
He was an elegant, alabaster-skinned young man to begin with, so no matter what he did, he looked passably well-mannered while doing it. He was also a warrior with an excellent build, so the speed with which he ate certainly wasn’t slow, but even now, due to the fact that he sat with his spine perfectly straight, he looked graceful. Being able to look like that even when you were eating a sautéed vegetable rice bowl was a plus if ever there was one.
Under the table, the wolf dog was gnawing on some unbattered deep-fried meat she’d gotten from Hua Diao. When the wolf got hungry, she went down the mountain pass and hunted likely looking monsters for her supper, so given that, she enjoyed the meals the girl gave her as if they were dessert. She certainly was a clever one.
Hua Diao bustled around serving Krusty and the enormous beast. While she couldn’t cook at all, she boasted that making tea was her specialty, and she was getting said service ready at this very moment.
Apparently, martenfolk were “weasel spirits.”
They were classified as demispirits, and in Elder Tales, they had been a race that players could talk to but couldn’t select.
Swallowing a mouthful of soup, Krusty said to his servant, “This turned out well.”
“Did it?! Oh, I’m glad. After all, Master Immortal, you’re difficult to please.”
“Am I?” he murmured, cocking his head.
Was that really the case? In the first place, he was in charge of preparing the morning and evening meals. This was because, even though they were master and servant, Krusty felt that chores should be shared.
He was the type who believed that any meal would do, provided it was nutritious and it tasted like something you could at least stand
to swallow, and he’d never gotten angry about the meals Hua Diao and the others made, not even once. As you’d expect, charcoal and strange, murky broth had bigger problems than flavor, and so he’d requested improvements. But it seemed unfair to call this “being hard to please.”
At any rate, Krusty had never criticized Hua Diao and the others.
That said, this was all according to Krusty’s awareness. From their perspective, Hua Diao and her people probably saw something different.
Krusty saw it as a division of chores, plain and simple, but the fact that the guest they were supposed to be serving homemade dinner every night; that the dishes were beautiful, plentiful, and varied; that he provided the delicacies of a foreign country unstintingly; and that he even finished the prep work for the next day’s breakfast along with the dinner preparations—it was possible that all these things put heavy pressure on Hua Diao and the other servants.
They’d gotten the wrong impression: “Master Immortal is a great gourmet, and he eats the lunches we make only reluctantly.”
The source of this misunderstanding was the New Wife’s Apron Krusty used, but because no one had realized that, the matter had grown more complicated.
For his part, Krusty gazed absently at the peach blossoms and said things like “I don’t really feel like having lunch,” and Hua Diao just couldn’t take it. What the remark actually meant was “It seems like a lot of trouble, so I’m going to take another nap,” but it made them break out in a cold sweat, wondering whether the fact that he was a gourmand meant he wouldn’t accept their food.
She thinks I’m hard to please.
That’s not true. I’m grateful that you take care of me.
I should tell her that.
Should I make something delicious for dinner?
That’s what I always do.
I should thank her.
She’s never accepted thanks seriously.
Is there any real harm in being considered “hard to please”?
Not particularly.
It may not be necessary to pay the cost of taking steps…
I suppose it isn’t anything I really need to deal with.
As he came to that conclusion, Krusty set down his chopsticks, wearing a sober expression.
At any rate, almost none of the things that happened in this world were particularly noteworthy.
On being told he was hard to please, he’d thought, Well, that’s a problem. What should I do? but now that he’d thought about it, it wasn’t a problem after all. If he looked like that, all it meant was that he looked like that. It was the sort of thing you’d let go with no more than an Is that so? …Well, I guess it is, and being seen that way didn’t seem to have done him any damage. As far as he was concerned, it was just fine with him.
“Master Zhu Huan sent us food.”
“That was very kind of him.”
Hua Diao didn’t seem to have noticed Krusty’s brief internal self-examination. With a cheerful swirl of her skirt, she began counting on her fingers.
“Chicken, boar, deer, mountain pheasant, duck, and eel. Tofu and greens, leeks and bok choy. Rice and sugar and ma and la. There’s pure white grain and brown grain, too.”
“Is that what’s put you in such a good mood?”
“Oh, it’s nothing like that…!”
At Krusty’s question, Hua Diao gave a startled little gasp and put her hands to her cheeks. Apparently, she had been aware of it.
She’s probably just excited, huh? Krusty thought.
This enchanted land was an extraordinarily tranquil place, and they could pick the finest peaches and apricots to their hearts’ content. On the other hand, there were all sorts of things they couldn’t get, such as grains, marine products, and animal flesh. To make delicious, diverse meals, they needed a variety of ingredients, and these had to be sent up from the world below.
That said, this place was technically a fairyland, part of the heavenly palace, which meant that traveling down into the foothills and back was difficult in and of itself. To get there, you had to pass through Sirius Grotto, a long, monster-haunted labyrinth. It was a dangerous place for ordinary citizens.
Zhu Huan was an Adventurer, a master of martial arts, and one of the few people who could safely traverse Sirius Grotto. He was also the one who’d shown Krusty to this place.
He was a good fellow, quite pleasant, a commoners’ champion who ran a large guild known as the Lelang Wolf Cavalry.
“I would have at least said hello to him.”
“He had companions with him. They said they were going to capture Dire Wolves today.”
“Is that right?” Krusty responded. Zhu Huan was the leader of a group, and he was probably busy. Hua Diao’s head seemed to be entirely filled with thoughts of the food they’d brought; she was fidgeting restlessly.
“Did they bring honey and eggs?”
When she heard Krusty’s question, she couldn’t control herself any longer, and her tail stuck straight out. Its tip started tracing figure eights in the air, over and over.
The martenfolk loved sweets, and their traditional meals incorporated lots of fruit. Rich baked goods made with sugar and eggs seemed to have given them a kind of culture shock. After he’d served some to them once, they’d latched on to them with abnormal intensity. She was probably dying to know whether he was going to make them a dessert this time, too.
She’s expecting baked goods from me.
I’m neither a confectioner nor a chef.
If she’s all right with something simple, though, I could make that.
Potential candidates for simple baked goods:
• Madeleinees
• Muffins
• Cookies (already made once)
• Tarte Tatin
I believe I could make these, if I followed a recipe.
They may be easy, but do I have a reason to make them?
No.
Do I want to eat them?
I have no particular fondness for sweets.
Do I have any reason not to make them?
No.
Consider the cost of the wasted time and trouble.
In fairyland, these can be ignored.
“Sure. I’ll serve a dessert with dinner,” Krusty answered.
Hua Diao bounded in mute delight, breaking into a big grin. It was terribly mercenary of her.
Only Hua Diao and a few other members appeared before Krusty using the magic that gave them human shapes. However, the work those few did kept the Bai Tao Shrine up and running, so making them treats once in a while wasn’t a task onerous enough to refuse.
Either way, time passed too slowly in this enchanted land.
He had plenty to think about, but this place was far too dull. Sneaking out on moonlit nights to cut down Oni and playing at being a cook were about the only ways he had to kill time.
Hua Diao, who had watched Krusty put down his chopsticks, began to thank him, her ears twitching. Her people were conscientious.
However, just as she was about to say what were probably words of gratitude, she turned back, clearly tense, and began to sniff the air vigorously. The wind had grown stronger at some point, and it was shaking the treetops.
The air had begun to grow humid.
As if the sea of clouds had gradually risen, a sudden, fierce gust of damp wind announced the arrival of something abnormal.
Hua Diao’s eyes flicked right and left, quickly; she looked a little frightened. Krusty threw her a rope: “Thank you for the meal. Could you change my sheets?”
Gratefully, Hua Diao responded with a “Yes, sir,” and ran off toward the shrine.
On the lounge in the summerhouse, Krusty tidied himself up a bit.
Compared with Akiba, fairyland certainly was dull. However, every single guest it received was eccentric. Remembering interesting people and people who hadn’t been at all entertaining, Krusty smiled thinly, bracing himself for the visitor.
2
Before five minu
tes had passed, a beautiful young woman appeared.
She wore a dark veil that obscured her features, but she had black, lustrous hair and red lips, and the soft curves of her body were sheathed in a vivid jade traveling robe. The woman had perfumed her clothes by burning an incense that had a vaguely sweet, old-fashioned scent, and she was in the summerhouse before he was aware of her presence.
“How do you fare, Master Krusty?”
“Fine, thanks. You look well, Enchantress Youren.”
“I’ve asked you to just call me Youren, you know.”
Although Krusty had thanked her for asking about his health, he didn’t feel any particular obligation to the woman, but he kept that to himself and treated her deferentially, with the utmost courtesy. He’d learned that most humans were satisfied if you treated them with respect.
In the first place, being polite was a way of confirming whether you and the other party were the same sort of person.
For example, if you passed a ferocious beast on the road, it might suddenly latch on to your head with its jaws. That was a scary thought. Of course, since you’d be able to tell it was a ferocious beast just by looking at it, all you had to do was run away. However, if the other party was a barbarian, since they were human, it would be hard to identify them as such on sight. Since their common sense was different from yours, though, they might suddenly strike you with a blood-stained two-handed ax. If you’d assumed they were just like you and the attack took you by surprise, you’d die.
That said, it was very difficult and time-consuming to be on your guard against every person you passed on the road.
Politeness was a way to save yourself this trouble.
I’m one of your kind, and I speak your language.
I won’t suddenly display an interest in the taste of your flesh.
It was a ritual to confirm these things.
Humans tended not to take an interest in strangers’ inner selves. Since that was so, as long as they had that minimal guarantee—in other words, that they wouldn’t abruptly suffer harm—they were generous about everything else.
Of course, it was a fact that, when it came right down to it, manners weren’t something you could count on. Sudden disasters, sudden changes, sudden lunatics: Krusty knew that true human nature actually lay on that side of things. Fundamentally, this world was a circus of unfair chaos, a place where anything could happen.