You're not going to be able to do that.


　A pale reddish brown foxfire illuminated the luxurious room.
　The seemingly uninhabited large room had its own master.
　The flame was thin and weak, different from the common "bugus lights" in Akiba. The light does not illuminate the entire large room. The wavering light is dark and shadowy, creating darkness in the corners of the room.
　In the gloom, a dark-haired woman with a blanket wrapped around her head is curled up in the darkness.
　She is not shabby.
　The room is lavishly furnished. A sofa decorated with brocade. A sofa decorated with brocade, a bed with a canopy, and a chalk table. However, none of the furniture shows signs of having been used in the course of life. They just give off an air of inorganic, distant order.
　Wet feathers lay in the shadows of such furniture, and in the shadows, Wet feathers spent the night as uncomfortable as usual.

　Bundles of papers flowed out of the small round table like a waterfall and spread out to her view. There were traces of red, as if flowers had been scattered on those bundles of what appeared to be documents with writing on them. If you look closely, it looks like a wine stain.
　Wet Feathers gazes at such a scene, dimly illuminated.
　There was no way he could read the small, meticulously written words in such a dark room. Nureha is fighting with only her gaze against the papers and the illusion that rises from the darkness of the room.
　Various things emerged from the darkness. Most of them were vague white figures.
　Even the outlines are vague, but they whispered to each other in a low voice that even Wetou couldn't hear very well, and then glanced at each other to separate Wetou. The smoky shadows, whose appearance is not even certain, gave him a gaze that seemed to price or tease him.
　Nenuha glared at him, clenching her cold fists tightly.
　Or more specifically, a horrifyingly thick arm appeared, horrifyingly thick. The arm grabbed Wet Feather's hair and tried to force him away towards the white shadow. Wet Feather let out a low threatening voice like a beast. He already knew that if he did so, the shadow would disappear.
　He spent a long time trying to cover his ears to the cursed voice.
　The entire guild hall, which has sixteen luxurious rooms, was prepared for Wet Feather's private quarters. No ten people have the right to enter this guild hall except Nenuha. It's a good thing that you're able to have a good time with them.
　In the darkness, Wet Feather spent a night that seemed to have no end.
　He had no memory of having done anything, and his body was exhausted. The cold blood circulating in the limbs was heavy as a sandbag, and this world was like the bottom of the water.
　It's not unusual. It's always been that way.
　It's a weariness that cannot be cured by acquiring the body of an adventurer.

　I pulled up a thin hand in front of me.
　I see slender, white, smooth, workmanlike fingers.
　They are graceful, like works of art, with nails that glow the color of cherry blossoms.
　The fine skin that follows from them. The ridge of the arm that does not feel temperature, but still evokes a sufficient softness.
　An uncontrollable underworld joy mingles in the darkness where there is only disgust and rejection.
　Wet Feather herself does not value this body in any significant way, but she knows very well that her own would drive others mad. It was a blazing joy.
　The sweetly muffled voice, the flowery scent, and the body that seems to be tied up in the name of clothing are the objects of many people's craving. The thought of that makes a sticky, foul rapture rise up.
　The white shadow with the papers as its domain makes a short, ridiculous laugh, but Wet Feather responds with a disdainful glance. The white shadow groaned as if to impeach him, but the wind has now changed. There was no more Wet Feather to endure the pain he had endured earlier.
　Wet Feathers made a throaty sound as he wrapped himself in the blanket.
　It was an ominous voice, I thought.
　In the presence of the young head of the House of Stewards, in the presence of Lorile, the head of the Kingsguard, no, Zeldus, Nacarnado, or anyone else, he would not have made such a snatched and squeaky voice. Seducing them with a voice as sweet as a honey wrapped around them is what Wet Feathers does every day. Just as she has done so far, she will continue to do so in the future.
　I think it's silly.
　I think it's ridiculous.
　But the more he thought about it, the more he was amused by the crowds of people going left and right, sometimes fighting, sometimes lamenting, sometimes cursing each other, fighting against each other to show off their own superiority in search of that silly and ridiculous Wet Feather.
　All those who had despised Wet Feather and accused him of being a villain would now be so dismayed that they would throw away their possessions and their lives at the mere mention of Wet Feather's sweet pleading voice. This was the weapon and armor of Wet Feather's armor for the long night. The only thing that can make him forget his torment, if only for a moment, is the hustle and bustle of the people fighting for him.
　The ridiculousness of those who worshipped such worthless wet feathers as gold or jewels.
　It is the only thing that warms, soothes and numbes Wet Feathers.
　As long as he was looking at them, Wet Feathers could feel joyful. And most of all, it was only the silly, comedic plays of the people dancing around Wet Feather that convinced her that this world was as worthless as she was.

　It's a good thing that you're able to get the most out of your time.
--I'm not going to be able to get out of this world," she said. This is not a game; we have to survive here.
　Wet Feather realizes she is smiling a gruesome smile.
　What a silly thing to say. Nonsense. What a load of bullshit now. You're sleepwalking, Wet Feather thought. The boy who had once told him that was the case was now a member of the Plant hwyaden, and he was working every day, dedicating his life to it. Does he mean that he is competing for survival by paying taxes to the guild?
　Ridiculous.
　Hours after the catastrophe, Wet Feather had robbed a few approaching Adventurers of everything they owned: money, food, weapons, and even armor. It was a simple matter. Panic gripped them, and they believed every wild lie they could find.
　A few days later, Wetha had picked up a clue to the new world from their devotion. They were so shocked that they gave up thinking, and they were willing to do whatever Nenuha told them to do in order to take command. After a few weeks, he became one of the wealthiest adventurers in Minami, organizing them, encouraging them with kind words and helping them forget their fears.
　A month after the catastrophe, she gains her Overskill and takes control of the Minami's guard structure.
　A coup d'état that no one knew about. With the largest amount of military power in her possession, Wet Feather uses it to negotiate with the "Earthling" aristocracy and regulators to gain even greater wealth. Once he got to that point, it was easy to control the Grand Palace.

　Yes, it was easy.
　Isn't this the kind of 'race for survival' that the boy who had warned me a few months after the catastrophe, as if to tell me the secrets of this world, was talking about?　Wet Feather asks in the back of her brain.
　It's so boring that it's no longer safe to call it stupid.
　The boy's too much innocence was even more hateful.
　This world is not a game. When he heard those words, Wet Feather was able to smile from the bottom of his heart. Wet Feather was grateful for that too amusing argument. He felt the slightest temptation to blurt out his black heart to the boy with a desperate expression on his face, but he maintained his soft, sisterly attitude. Because he knew that this was a desired mask.
　But Wet Feather's chest was filled with an uncontrollable urge to laugh.
　I know that. I've known that for a long time.
　In the first place, Wet Feather had never played with him even once.
　I never once thought of Elder Tail as a game, as a leisure-time pastime, not even in the beginning.
　Even back then, when Elder Tail was an electronic MMO for many players, it was still a tough battlefield for Wet Feather to survive on.
　If you don't keep bleeding, if you don't keep screaming, you'll be forgotten.
　To be forgotten is to be annihilated from the world.
　If you weren't meaningful to someone else, if you weren't wanted, if you weren't cared for, it was the same thing as being dead. No, it was even more terrible than death. Because death may be silence and nirvana, but to live as a worthless, insignificant, dusty piece of dust that no one likes - it is all kinds of hell to live as an inferior who is not needed by anyone.
　At any time in order to be interested, to be liked, to be fought over, Wetu has continued his blood-soaked studies.
　Even the most painful efforts were far better than being ignored. Eventually, his hard work paid off, and when he was able to gain favor with a single word or gesture, he threw the favor away like a piece of junk. The only people who favored the twisted Wet Feather were the players, whose eyes were blinded by their own greed.
　We have to play a race for survival here.
　A line that sounds like a farce. The farcical line.
　Then it seems that in the old world we didn't have to play for survival.
　Maybe that's true. As far as the boy is concerned, that is. Is he so blessed or is he a flowerbug? Thinking about that, along with the urge to laugh, makes me want to unleash the blackened hatred in my chest and burn it all down.
　As far as Wet Feather knows, every moment is a race for survival. It doesn't matter if it's in the original world or this world at all.
　Decipher the mechanism, look for weaknesses, get them to let their guard down, play with them, make them trust you, betray them, and take away their share. That's the basic rule of the world. It's far too late to bother deciding to do that.
　I can also understand why the unification of Minami was so easy.
　Wet Feather was going to take it from the beginning. Of the tens of thousands of adventurers who had drifted into this world, only Nenuha had lived in reality, not the game, from the beginning. That was his everyday life.
　All Nenuha did was to cultivate the same kind of attachment to the Elder Tail that he did when it was a game, and to spread love and discord. He just claimed his share, as he always did. That's why he was loved and became the center of Plant hwyaden. The world chose Wet Feather. Wet Feathers was happy. She had it all.

　She listened to her own ears as she exhaled lazily, and glared hatefully at the shadows.
　Why was she supposedly chosen to be in so much pain? Wet feathers trembled as she held her own tail like a pillow in her arms.
　Why do I have to curl up like an injured beast and pass the night with my breath in my throat?
　The fox ears twitched and trembled at Wet Feather's head as he clenched his teeth.
　Out of the corner of his eye as he looked up, a doorway that looked like a square cut out of light opened, revealing a lone maid.
'Wetu-sama,'
....
　Wet Feathers blatantly ignored the gaze. The maid, Inktis, who was in charge of the affairs of Plant hwyaden. She was Wet Feather's confidant, but she was someone who was outside of Wet Feather's interest. No, she could no longer be a cursed woman who clung to Wet Feather.
''Not even using the bed again.''
....
　Wet Feather looked up at Inktis, who had become a shadow in the backlight.
　Normally, Inkutis had an expression like a frozen mask, but now he had a spilling smile on his face. That smile was never directed at anyone other than Wet Feather, but every time he saw it, Wet Feather felt his stomach cramp up. No matter how many times he cut it off, no matter how many times he cleansed himself, it was the same smell as that arm growing out of the darkness of his bedroom.
''Were you thinking about Shiroe as well?''
....
　Wet Feathers stared at him.
　But Inktis is not frightened or faded like that vague white shadow.
　He whispers to Wet Feather with a sticky, inorganic smile.
　Sliding closer, Inktis approaches Wet Feather as if to break his waist.
　Nenuha bit her lip at the cold steel-like scent wafting from the maid. The scent of a well-maintained blade, which was roughly unbecoming of a woman.
''Is that so?''
Don't tell me about her.
　Even the words he thrust at her in frustration and anger didn't seem to reach Inkutis. It was always the same. Every possible wish that Wet Feather had asked for had never been accepted by Inktis, except for one. He had traded everything for just one.

''I told you.　I told you. He's no good. I told you that if you exchange words with him, nothing will happen. He's a man who leads nowhere. It's always been that way. It's not a player. It's just noise with high ability. --Hey, Wet Feather?
　Wet Feather's vision oozes with pain and fear.
''You are the unavailable man. That's just a traitor, yet intelligent. You could say he is fastidious. I know, I can smell the dope.
　Even though he had expected it, even though he had been prepared for it, Inkutis' words sent a twisting pain through Wet Feather. Memories that seemed to have been desperately shoved into the darkness appeared like countless ghosts, stirring Wet Feather's lungs.
　It was the body of the white shadow's whispered, indistinct mutterings.
　It was a past that Wet Feather should have pretended never happened, that he had taken off to earth.
''Do you really expect someone to touch you?　You, such a dingy, vague, miserable beggar?　You're full of shit. There's nothing real about you at all. The truth is, when you open the door to the truth, you come from a background that smells worse than sewage filth. You, who has been looking at me covetously with a sickeningly thin smile on your face,
　I can remember the mad fear that stuck to the wet feathers.
　Plastic school lunch plates. Soup mixed with garbage. I remember biting my lip in the cramped locker and hoping that no one would find it.
'You must understand. Don't get the idea that a creepy person like you can connect with anyone. Hey, I'm the only one to make a contract with a dross-dirty woman like you, right?
　I desperately chewed on the vomiting feeling that rose in my throat.
　I was able to bite down.
　Fortuitous.
　Nenuha struggled to open her eyes so that her weakness would not be noticed. Inktis correctly described Wet Feather. I know that I don't need to be told that. More than anyone else, Wetou is aware of his dirty and unpleasant self.
　But it's one thing to know that you know it and another to have someone point it out to you.

''You're a convenient princess to watch from afar, you know.
　Still glaring at Wet Feather's ears, Inkthis pinched up her ears with her fingertips as if to twist them.
'That's why you can't afford to go to Akiba, Wetu. You need to realize that. It's not what it was when it was your salon anymore. This 'Plant hwyaden' is different. You will collect lots of Deku dolls and build your castle. I'll take possession of all the Yamato servers this time. Hey, Nureha. Isn't that the deal?
　Wet Feather's Wish. Wet Feather's Wish.
　A dream in which he risked everything to never return to that place again.
　As the phrase "no matter what" means, Wetou never wants to return to the past, no matter what he has to do. That's why he has joined forces with the plans of Inktis. Plant hwyaden is Wet Feather's castle. It is a nightless castle filled with countless lights and soft tributes.

You will make a place for yourself, won't you?
　Wet Feathers nodded desperately, mending to avoid showing weakness to Inktis.
''Yes, it's about to begin. The Ten-Seat Conference.'' Inktis seemed to have lost interest in Wet Feather as such. It's not that Wet Feather attended all the Ten-Seat Conference either. It's a good idea to have a good idea of what to expect when you're in your own home.
You are a princess, after all. I will inform everyone of this. Wet Feathers. You are the Plant hwyaden's precious and valued guild master.
　The sound of Inktis's footsteps moved away as he delivered a pleading line as if it were a leftover.
　Amidst the writhing self-loathing and curses from the past, Wetuwa curled up into a small, infinitesimal body, this time to hug her own tail.
　Her metabolic function was diminished and her limbs were painfully cold. The blanket that should have been wrapped around him was heavy and brought no warmth.
　My palpitations were wildly fluctuating and the world in front of me was sinking into a dark, anemic state.
　All the horrible and humiliating memories came flooding back, and the ghost of Wet Feather tried to bring him back to earth. The evil spirits that want to kill Wet Feather whenever Inquisitor tells them to, and Wet Feather must continue to fight them alone.

　But the Wet Feather puts a slight smile on the corner of her lips.
--Hey, I'm the only one who would make a contract with a dusky woman like you, right?
　It's not.
　It's a verbal agreement that cannot be called a contract. It may be nothing more than a playful exchange between two passers-by, but right now Nuremberg has one more promise to make besides the contract with Inktis.
--It's a good idea to be an enemy of yours.
　The words of farewell from the young man that Inktis had given up on are slightly protecting Wet Feather.
　In the distance, there was a low metallic sound announcing twenty-one o'clock.
　The sticky hands of the clock advanced slowly and the night still seemed to have infinite length. The body of the Adventurer could move without hindrance, even with little sleep. Its advantages were also the chains of a prison that kept Wet Feather trapped in the night. The shallow slumber and the sudden awakening of the adventurer, full of fear, were repeated. In this room where Wet Feather's usual nighttime battle should continue. Someday, surely. Tracing words that resembled a prayer, which she had never used before, with just the shape of her lips, Nenuha melted into a shallow sleep.







◆



　It was a curiously made room where several men and women gathered.
　The columns that adorned the draped walls, the vases that overflowed with fresh flowers from their exquisite patterns, and even the tables and chairs inlaid with gold faded before the magnetic vibrancy of the people gathered in the room.
　All of them were a total of eight unique members of the group and their entourage.
'What about Inktis?'
　A bespectacled man dressed in bureaucratic garments asked, "I went to the princess.
I've gone to the princess. He'll be back soon. Don't worry about it, Zeldus.
　A woman in a military uniform replies.
'I think we are long past the designation of "when the moon rises," don't we?
The princess is still the same.
They should have just gotten married.
　A young voice, oozing arrogance, and an amused voice, each with a hint of arrogance.

　The room was shaped like a gentle staircase, each step of which was perhaps four centimeters high. The room looks more like a series of low landing steps than a staircase. On each step, there was a place for you to stay.
　Many were sofas and leather chairs, and in some places desks and small stacks of books were set up. Those seats and the number of steps were ten. The arches made on all sides of the room were also made at different heights, and when you look at the structure that helped people get in and out of the room, these steps must represent the status of the one occupying that position. The strange structure of this room seemed to represent their relationship as it was.

　Kazuhiko looked around the room as he sat down in a low chair, holding his beloved sword in his arms. This gathering was a <10-seat meeting>. It is a meeting of the members who are in charge of the administration of Minami, and is in effect the central meeting of the Plant hwyaden.
　Attendees of the Ten-Seat Conference are called Ten Seats, or Seated Generals, after the name of the conference.
　Currently, there are two Ten Seats in the Council that have not yet arrived. The guildmaster of Plant hwyaden, Wetu, and Inktis, who has gone to pick her up.
　Inktis will show up soon, but Wetha is unknown. Her fickle personality seems uninterested in the minutiae of guild management, and she misses most of these meetings. As the founder and ally of Plant hwyaden, which is no longer a huge organization, Nenuha's judgment is not something that is needed on a daily basis. The members were accustomed to the absence of Nenuha's presence.
　This was a regular occurrence. Kazuhiko hadn't heard that there was a special agenda.
　But that doesn't mean we should relax.

　The relationship between the two generals is complicated and delicate. The Plant hwyaden, which was established by absorbing the adventurers of the West Yamato, is already unique in its origins. It is different in meaning from the MMO Elder Tail guilds of the past, which were founded by like-minded friends to play together. This huge, unified organization, which has swallowed up several existing guilds, was created for the purpose of mutual aid and survival in the different world of the Elder Tail.
　From the very beginning, it has been grouped together for the purpose of coordinating interests. Although it is a single guild, and an organization of complete equality, it is a faction-ridden organization. This was common knowledge to those who had some knowledge of Plant hwyaden.
　That wasn't the only peculiarity of the organization's formation.
　In order to establish this huge guild, Wet Feather had cajoled the Minami guard organization as a first step. The Minami Guards were a subordinate organization of the Saiguin. In other words, the "Plant hwyaden" is an organization that has been intertwined with the Daichijin since its establishment.
　The guild master, Wet Feather, the "Western Nagon", gained his position and power through this process.
　On the other hand, the Senate, which ruled the Yamato region with the Saiguin family, also took a keen interest in Plant hwyaden, and was eager to get involved.
　The current city of Minami is based on the balance between the various factions within Plant hwyaden, the Saiguin family of the Daichijins, and the Senate - a balance of forces that are at odds with each other.
　Kazuhiko is also a part of these forces.
　The Mibu Wolf, the security organization, is tasked with protecting the security of the city of Minami and fighting corruption and fraud. Officially, it is an arm of the Plant hwyaden, which is just that.
　In reality, however, it is Kazuhiko's private army.
　It is one of the factions within Plant hwyaden, organized by Kazuhiko and his comrades who stood up to stop the decay of the decaying Minami. Its power is not great within Minami, but it is precisely because it is one of the factions that it has a seat at the Ten-Seat Conference.
　You will find two guards clad in black cloaks standing behind Kazuhiko. There are a number of ten seats participating in this conference with such guards.
　Of course, the guards don't mean anything in this meeting.
　Kazuhiko looked at one seat with a shrugging gaze, that is, at the top of the room.

　On the top shelf is a cosy, elaborately crafted feminine throne that looks as if it was brought back from a fairyland.
　It is the seat where Plant hwyaden's guildmaster Wet Feather, who currently has no master, should sit.
　Below him is a tea server and a silver wagon. A shabby round chair with no signs of use. The second seat, which is currently unoccupied, is the actual seat that will be used to deliver this meeting. It is the seat occupied by the maid Inkthis.
　They have yet to appear.
　When Inktis arrives, it will be the start of the conference.

　The third level of the landing is large, with practical chairs and a huge desk on either side. A young man with glasses, who looked dour and cruel, was scribbling numbers and instructions on a painted table. Occasionally he raises his gaze to offer a wry comment from a sarcastic tone in the third seat, the Adventurer Zeldus, nicknamed the "Watchtower.
　The man in charge of Plant hwyaden's development and finances. He is the Ironborn Prime Minister.

　Immediately below him is a female soldier leaning back in a relaxed posture with a bottle of wine directly on the floor. The fourth seat is Mizfa-Trude, the "General of the East Baster". She is the strongest commander of the Senate and the most powerful commander of the Army of the Earthmen in the Holy Empire of the Westlands.
"Every day is a slow day. I can't smell blood. I feel like I'm rotting. I've got all the time in the world. I'd wait until the moon goes down to go into battle as long as I had to.
　She was a beautiful looking woman, over thirty, but she was more of a criminal cruelty than a military man's fearlessness. She was sitting in the middle of a two-seater sofa, arms outstretched in an insolent posture.
''Isn't it just a matter of coming here to have a fine drink?　The Lander.
　A large "adventurer" in a leather chair a step below him replied in a mischievous manner. Seat 5. "General Nacalnado," the General of the Southern Expedition. He wore a rugged, machine-like suit of armor, as if he were a guardian warrior.
　It's a good thing that you're a good friend of mine," he said, nodding his head hawkishly at the insulting words.
'Good standing,' says a bitter-looking Nacarnado, raising his dried-up cup. The maidservants, who looked as inconspicuous as the stain on the wall, cuddled together like ghosts and poured a new cup of wine.
　These two are the key military leaders of the Plant hwyaden's expedition.
　Each led the legions of the Earthmen and the armies of the Adventurers.
　Among the adventurers present at the conference, it is common knowledge that Mizfa has a higher standing in the Senate because of the consideration of the Senate. In fact, Nacarnado's military strength is several times greater than that of Mizfa. Nakarnado was the guildmaster of the Howling, the strongest guild in the Kansai region during the days of the old Yamato Server. The influence of the Plant hwyaden's internal faction was evident even here.

We're sleepy. Really, why do they gather at night?
　It was the sixth seat, which was a big stretch. "Quon, the Prophetess Singer.
"It won't be only in the night that you sleep.
　Zeldus' voice wafts from the top step, and Quon, dressed lightly in a shirt and jeans that look like he's walking on the streets of Earth, protests, wrapped in a warm, fantasy-style cloak that makes him look that much warmer.
He's on the lookout for that call from beyond.
　The other participants of the word let out a small chuckle.
　This young man named Quon originally had neither the ability nor the desire to occupy a seat at the conference. However, during the time of the Elder Tail, he was the Game Master of the operation. The Game Master, like the Adventurer, is an employee of the operation who, like the Adventurer, has an avatar and participates in the game world and deals with the problems that occur there. It would be easier to understand if you could say they were a kind of trouble support.
　As an employee of F.O.E., he is therefore very familiar with the situation and knowledge of the management side. Having encountered the Catastrophe while not logging in from a dedicated cabinet in F.O.E.'s office building, but from a private computer at home, most of his abilities as Game Master are now sealed away, but even so, they could still be of assistance in understanding the situation. That's why he occupies one of the ten seats.
　The Call from Beyond is one of the gamemaster abilities that Quon still possesses, allowing him to receive pop-up notifications of operational events that occur on the Yamato server. He can also receive calls from F.O.E., but if Quon's words are to be believed, there is no contact after a catastrophe, and the events that occur are limited to timed and triggered events.

Are you saying that our connection to the higher worlds is fading?
　One of Kazuhiko's lower levels. The old man on the eighth seat teased him with a chuckle, "Shut up.
"Shut up. Isn't it the meeting's decision to monitor Cole?
　The old man laughs at Quon's sulking attitude. He looks cheerful, but his eyes are cloudy. The eighth seat is the Great Mage of the Myral Lake, Sherred-Gun, a leading authority on the study of magic and history of the Earthmen. He is a leading authority on the study of magic and history of the Earthmen. His knowledge and magical abilities have been put into developing new technology with Zeldus.
"Shall the princess be seen again tonight?
　Along with the murmurings of Lorail Dawn, the "Chief of the Ninth Seat," the "Chief of the Kingsguard," the one who entered the hall was the beautiful and handsome young woman, Inktis, dressed in a maid's outfit. The sound of her footsteps tapping on the floor is the bell for the start of the "Ten-Seat Conference".

I would like to begin the "Ten Seats Conference" again tonight. Today's topic will begin with a report on the city's welfare.
　Inquisitris began to cut the meeting off abruptly and without preamble. And that's always the first topic he chooses to talk about. Kazuhiko caught his breath as he dove to the bottom of the water and tried to keep his heart cold.
　The city of Minami is peaceful and prosperous.
　However, it is also a structure made possible by the exploitation of the "earthlings" in a way that is invisible to the eye. At present, there are about 10,000 adventurers living in Minami, and three times as many Daichijin. And the number of Daichijin is three times that number. There are many restaurants and lodgings run by the Daichi, but the majority of them are followers.
　These servants are hired by the adventurers to look after their own affairs, the Daichijin. Adventurers want them to be relieved of their duties, and the Daichijin welcome them as well, as they are paid well. But on the other hand, it is also a hotbed of trouble. The prosperity of Minami has been built on the basis of hiding various distortions and stains.
　The meeting proceeds with Kazuhiko's thoughts in mind.
　One of the biggest measures that the Minami administration is currently working on is the issuance of guild passes.
　Members of Plant hwyaden, as well as those living in Minami, will be able to receive a guild pass issued by Plant hwyaden's secretariat. Holders of guild passes of various ranks will have access to the restaurants and lodgings appropriate to their rank, completely free of charge. Members of Plant hwyaden will no longer need to carry small change with them. The pass is not a purchase, but rather a free loan, with the option to renew it every three months, which is expected to make a significant contribution to the development of Minami.
　Kazuhiko's determination is renewed as he hears this spectacular report.
　There will surely be many uglier and bigger troubles in the future.
　The advantages of the guild pass system are understandable. It's significant to guarantee a certain amount of life for those adventurers who avoid fighting monsters. It would also allow Plant hwyaden to implement more meaningful policies, such as buying and managing materials. But the victims of this policy will be the Migrant. The Mibu Wolf is there to protect justice in the city. That is to say, they protect the weak. Kazuhiko and his team are fighting to alleviate the misery of the Earthlings, whom many of the Adventurers ignore.

　Before they knew it, the meeting had moved on from the Raid Zone investigation report to the situation in Nakas and then to the current situation in Akiba.
'So Akiva has sent out troops to the northeast, then?
Looks like it.
　Nacalnard responds to Inktis' question.
The members are the Five Legions, led by Krusty the Mad Titan. "The Black Sword, the Hatter and the Old Flying Dragon are also accompanying them. "I have a report from number one."
　It seems that Akiva, although different in form from Minami, is also very concerned with the relationship with the Daichijinshi.
　Compared to Minami, which has a connection to the leader of the Daichijinshi, the Saigu family, Akiba has chosen to coexist with the Alliance of Free Cities, an organization of Daichijinshi that serves the northern part of the Kanto region. Many participants in the Ten-Seat Conference believe that this decision is the difference in the speed of change between Akiba and Minami.
　Minami has achieved stability much faster than Akiba, and has done a better job in all aspects, including the development of lifestyle services and new technologies. For the adventurers imprisoned in another world, Minami has achieved a level of stability in their lives that is of utmost importance to them. That is the well-being of the adventurers who live in Minami.
There are no "black glasses" either.
　The tenth seat threw up his eye mask and spoke to the meeting.
　The conference was momentarily quieted as if it was engulfed by the relaxed voice of the "henpecked clown" who had been sleeping peacefully on a tropical resort chair made of canvas and wooden frames.
I don't know how he interpreted the silence, but he repeated: "There's no 'black-eyed glasses' either. I don't know if he accompanied them on their expedition to the northeast or not, but he seems to have disappeared. I don't know if he accompanied the expedition to the northeast or not, but he seems to have disappeared. Now what do we do?　The "Inktis
　KR, who had a somewhat boisterous smile on his face at the idea of looking like a prankster, looked up at his former companion from the bottom row.



◆





　As he closed the thick wooden door, Naotsugu brushed the snow from his body.
　Outside, it wasn't so much a blizzard as a snowstorm for Naotsugu, but it was blowing in the mountain breeze. It was supposed to be early afternoon, but the thick clouds made it dim and cold.
　I was wearing cold-resistant equipment so I didn't freeze in the blizzard, but I was no match for it. Naotsugu is a guardian warrior and wears full body armor made of metal. Normally, it is not equipped to be able to move on snow. But the adventurer's physical abilities made it possible for him to make his rounds in this weather.
"Naotei?
Oh, we're back.
　Naotsugu replied to Shiroe's voice from behind the lodge.
　Loosen the belt and take off the basket hand. This basket hand is a state-of-the-art artisanal production-grade item, something that was not available during the Elder Tail era. It's more versatile than the one that Level 90's Naotsugu got from the raid, and he loves it, but because it's a handcrafted item from the catastrophe onward, it can't be removed from the menu.
　I'm going to take off the heavy equipment that looks more like a weapon of some sort than a basket, and I'm going to toss the other equipment into my "magic bag" one after another. I'm sure you'll be able to find it in the same way you did on earth. It was the same rough outfit as when he was on Earth.
　It was indeed a freezing winter in the mountains outside, but the people who built this lodge must have been well aware of the freezing mountainous winter. The wall made of logs is double-layered and there seems to be straw in between.
　Together with the thick tapestry, they kept the room reasonably comfortable.
Naotsugu took off his thick climbing socks and stuck his toes into his indoor shoes. Some say he smells like an old man for wanting to take off his socks as soon as he gets home, but since he's been like that since he was a kid, Naotsugu wishes he'd let it go.
'How did it go?'
No problem. Snow falling in the wind.
You're not going to stop crying.
He said it's a family affair.
Just because I'm not here doesn't mean you can't do it again.
　It was a room about ten tatami mats in Japanese style.
　The fireplace burned red and Shiroe sat on a thick rug, spreading many notes and maps around him. A quick look around would reveal that there were no more than a few dozen of them. Some of them were familiar to Naotsugu. The map of this neighborhood - filled with annotations and memoranda in red ink - is a compilation of Naotsugu's reports from the past week.
　It's a week since we left Akiva's friends, even though it's warm and comfortable inside the lodge. Naotsugu looked around with a sense of relief.
'Where's the little old man?'
He's not that old. She's not much older than us, I think.
He's got an old man's smile.
　Shiroe, who had taken off her trademark white robe coat and was in her loungewear, began to carefully stack the notes in her hand without looking at Naotsugu.
'Shall I help you?'
No, it's fine. It won't take long.
So low.
　He must be concentrating.
　In order not to disturb Shiroe, Naotsugu sat down on the fur rug.
''........''
....
　Shiroe took out a thick notebook next to the pile of notes and made some kind of calligraphy. There are no computers or word processors in this world. It's hard to organize the information, Shiroe says, but he refuses to help her if she tries. He's always been stubborn.
　Since the day they met, Naotsugu thought.
　We had just attended a tea party at the Debauchery Tea Party when the topic of having a meal off the premises came up anyway. It's a normal thing in an online game, but the members of the tea party live all over Japan, so it's not possible for everyone to attend such a party. So it is impossible for all of us to participate in such a dinner party. But still, five people who live in Kanto area gathered.
　Shiroe, who we met for the first time, was drinking pu-erh tea.
　Isn't that Oolong tea?　This was the explanation from Shiroe about the differences between the two. His explanation lasted for 30 minutes, and eventually he talked about the political situation in Taiwan and tea speculation. At the time, the EU was experiencing a "collapse" (aka "vital fall"), and even college students couldn't help but be involved in such topics.
　Naotsugu and Shiroe's friendship began at such an off-line meeting.
　They were both university students at the time, and living within an hour's ride of each other was also a big factor. Off-campus friends are very valuable. I even took the shifty Shiroe with me on walks to and fro.
　There were countless times when Kanami's selfishness got the better of me.
　When she said, "I'm going to the fish cake factory in Odawara. When she started saying "I'm going to go to the fish cake factory in Odawara," I really thought I was going to fist-bump her. Nevertheless, it was fun to go there, and the fish cake was surprisingly tasty. Naotsugu thinks that Kanami has great virtue or taste in that area.
　That's why Naotsugu and Shiroe have been friends for so long.
　I'm used to sitting next to a silent Shiroe like this, throwing my legs out and relaxing. I used to do this all the time when I was a student, and it's a common occurrence in Chronicles of the Horizon.
　The heat from the fireplace makes its way around to my toes from the snowfield. The numbing sensation melted away and warmth returned.
　Naotsugu twisted and rifled through his "magic bag" and pulled out a metal water bottle and cup.
　He poured out a glass of mogu milk. It's a drink similar to banana milk on earth, made from crushed mogu fruit.
　When I offered Shiroe the same thing with a "m.", she responded with a "m." and accepted it without even looking up. We both sip on the slightly sweet mug of milk. This is what friends do to each other. High-tension, witty conversation is just another thing.
The confinement festival in the snow mountain with White and the old man.
　Still, I mumbled to myself, not with malicious intent, but because I was bored, I just sort of did it.
'What's the matter, you miss people?　The "direct connection
Well, you know. There's not much for a resort.
It's a country.
　Naotsugu was taken aback by Shiroe's reply.
　This lodge is an enclosed zone, but the snow-covered mountain outside the lodge is a field zone with an approximate size of 60 kilometers square. Naotsugu was the only adventurer in the field zone. I checked the list of zones before entering the lodge, so there is no doubt about it. We don't call such an area the countryside. It's an unexplored region. Naotsugu would like to say that Tierstone is an isolated island in the Yamato Server.
Where are you from again?
Tokyo.
　Naotsugu sighs deeply at his concise answer. This is why being from Tokyo is so annoying. They are unable to distinguish between the countryside, where people live, and the real, unexplored places.
　Disgusted, Naotsugu rolled over with his head resting on his elbow.
　About ten days ago, Shiroe asked me to stay at home. She said she would be away from Akiba for a while and asked him to look after the "record horizon" for her. Naotsugu refused in one second and is now here.
　I didn't hear where he was going or what he was going to do, but I knew he was going to do something troublesome. And it's not something that's generally necessary, but it's something Shiroe thinks he needs to do. I could tell right away from the look on his face.
If it was something that everyone could see right away that it was necessary, Shiroe would easily ask someone else to do it. If it's necessary for everyone, we won't hesitate to do it together. The reason why he tries to do it himself is because it is difficult to convince him of the necessity.
　I thought things had improved since the Crescent Burger incident, but apparently, one or two triggers don't make a full recovery from an innate disposition.
　You're so stubborn, Naotsugu thought, but then again, maybe that was just Siloe.
　The fact that Shiroe has many vices is good enough to offset them. The problem is that Shiroe himself doesn't understand that, and he should be accompanied by a kickstarter to thwart the back of this smart but stupid friend. That would be his old friend Naotsugu, for example.
'Isn't it about time you explained why you're trapped in this snowy mountain chamber?
I'm not locked in. I'm just cooped up.
White, you're not popular at all.
That's what peace means, man.
　It's troubling that Shiroe is more than half-serious in her case.
''Well the reason I'm holed up here is because I don't want people to know where I am. It's good for now, but when I think about the future, I don't want my intentions to be read.
　Shiroe, who was able to follow the playful exchange, still began to explain in vague terms.
For now, the goal is money. In other words, it's a money-making scheme. In other words, it's a money-making scheme.
That old man?
　Naotsugu thought of his companion. The small elven 'earthling' scholar is holed up in the next room. Literally.
'Oh, she's different. Mr. Li-Gun is also involved in this mission. I've tangled up with him to convince him to join us. I don't know if you'll trust my word alone. He may look like a celebrity, but he's a celebrity.
You don't look like a celebrity.
Even if it's the Wise Man of Miral Lake?
　So that's the kind of person you are, Naotsugu agrees with Shiroe's words.
　The Wise Man of Miral Lake is a famous NPC in the MMORPG Elder Tail. However, Naotsugu had never seen him on the game screen before. He is the sage from the legends and gossip in the game. He must have appeared in the backstory of a large scale battle called 'The Nine Prisons of Hayroth' that I played in during my tea party days.
'He really was there?'
'Yeah, I know you were there. That.
'Why are you in the middle of a mountain with a money-making scheme in the first place?　If you need money, why don't you just borrow it from the Round Table?
''Yes,'' sighed Shiroe as she crossed her legs and growled with difficulty, "my forehead is a little big.
　Naotsugu felt a headache coming on.
　In this case, "a little" was completely unreliable. I'm sure Shiroe had a cooler look on his face the last time he tried to take over the Guildhall.
''How much is it?''
It's worth about 80 trillion.
　It was a ridiculous, truly ridiculous amount of money.
　It was more than 10,000 times more than all the adventurers on the Yamato Server, according to my calculations. It was an amount that could not even be gathered from all the Adventurers, not just from the Yamato Server, but from all the Adventurers in this world, an amount that never existed in the first place. Naotsugu opens his mouth and looks at Shiroe. Even Shiroe was grunting, furrowing his brow in annoyance.
　But seeing Shiroe snarling, Naotsugu could tell. Apparently Shiroe wasn't saying this in jest or on purpose. He thinks he needs that amount of money no matter what.
Do you know where you can find it?
I can't do it all. I'll have to do it in stages... a little bit at a time.
　I'm sure it's not a small amount of money, but Shiroe laughed in annoyance.
I don't blame you. You can't help but tell me more. Tell me more about the plan you've come up with.
I don't have a plan. I just got down on my knees when I got out. You'll have to convince him anyway.
Who?　How.
　They had just gotten there, sipping their moggy milk, when the door to the next room opened, revealing a man in a robe.
''Mr. Shiroe. It looks like your guest has arrived.
　The bad-eyed Daichijin sorcerer, with an amused expression on his face, chuckled and tapped Naotsugu on the shoulder. You will find that you will be able to get a good idea of what you are looking for, and you will be able to find out what you are looking for.
'Please watch me, Naotsugu-san. The negotiations that Shiroe-san wants to have started without any explanation. Now this is a great thing. Or maybe this negotiation is the magic of the strategic or even national defense level.''
　What does it mean to be a national security grade?　That question from Naotsugu was cut off midway through.
　It was because there was a knock on the lodge's door.
　Just twenty minutes ago, there were no adventurers within a ten-kilometer radius of the city. Then they must be Daichijin. But could the Daichijin travel deep into the snowy mountains of Tierstone?
　While Shiroe and Li-Gunn looked on, Naotugu took his sword out of his magic bag and headed for the door, wary.