episode_0031

While Wolfgang watched over the burning corpse and baby spiders, we thoroughly searched the warehouse for anything of value.

“…Just some odds and ends. Doesn’t seem to be anything useful.”

“That’s a shame.”

Unfortunately, there was nothing of income-worthy value.

Well, this isn’t exactly a dungeon. After all, the only things we’d find after a thorough search would likely be possessions left behind by miners turned spider food.

Unless they were mine owners, it’s unlikely that regular miners would carry valuable items around.

What we found amounted to nothing more than a rotting pickaxe, a crude dagger, a shoddy ring, and a small notebook.

“…A notebook?”

“A journal, actually! I can’t read it!”

Kirkel replied, unfolding the small, partially blood-soaked notebook.

He could manage spoken language to some extent, but he couldn’t read at all.

There was no need for embarrassment.

Lizardmen might not be able to read human writing either. Illiteracy in one’s native language is widespread in this world, so what’s the big deal?

“Let me see.”

Of course, I could read it.

Since arriving in this world, I could naturally pronounce and read the language and writing as if it were my mother tongue. Strange, isn’t it?

Is it some kind of special ability granted to the possessed?

Or perhaps something implanted in my mind by whatever thrust me into Brunhill’s body, imparting knowledge of this place’s language and writing?

Thinking about it made me feel somewhat uneasy.

As if something indiscernible was freely roaming through my mind.

…I shouldn’t dwell on it.

There’s no solution to pondering, and it’ll only needlessly sour my mood.

Regardless, thanks to this, I, as a castaway in this world, managed to avoid the predicament of being unable to communicate, neither orally nor in writing.

I closed my eyes, halting the negative thoughts, and received the notebook Kirkel held, examining its contents.

“Hmm… Ah, this is indeed a journal. It’s the former village chief’s journal.”

They said it had become spider food. Seeing the journal here, it seems that statement was true.

I quickly flipped through the pages of the journal, scanning its records on the progress of mine development and output.

The only son complained, saying he disliked being a miner and left for the city.

There were concerns of strange sounds coming from below the mine.

It was also mentioned that the son, who had left to pursue business, had returned unexpectedly. Various stories were written in crooked letters.

And at the end of the journal…

“Blood?”

Short sentences written not with ink, but with blood, unlike the previous pages. Was it a last testament before dying?

“Betrayal… Curse…?”

It was disgustingly difficult to understand what was written.

The handwriting itself was messy, with many characters either smudged or completely erased.

Nevertheless, after carefully stumbling through, I could roughly grasp the content.

“Chongjang Jeondae was murdered.”

A testament written in blood by Chongjang Jeondae. It contained the truth about his death.

“The culprit is his son, and the motive… a common inheritance issue.”

The son who messed up his business, returned to his hometown, and demanded ownership or shares of the mine.

When Chongjang Jeondae refused, it seems the son attempted to murder him.

Quietly murdering him inside the mine, disguising the body as a cliff accident.

The problem was, just before finishing off Chongjang Jeondae, giant spiders broke through the mine walls.

Current Chongjang kicked his father’s leg, breaking it, and the abandoned Jeondae crawled to hide in the warehouse.

Convinced he would die here, he left this will behind.

A curse against his son’s betrayal and depravity.

◆◆

We found out that Current Chongjang was a notorious fugitive, but our mission remained unchanged.

Our role is not to enforce social justice in the minefield.

“What should we do with this journal?”

Handing it over to Current Chongjang was foolish.

It would be like exposing our complete criminal activities to adventurers, so naturally, they might try to kill us to keep us quiet.

Restart mining, earn money, hire assassins—something along those lines.

“Reporting to the security team and possibly accusing the village head… There’s no benefit in it, and it would only be troublesome.”

Lautte suggested just letting it go.

“There’s no reward for reporting the village head, and if we argue about the truth, we’ll have to visit the security team several times. Wouldn’t that be bothersome?” he said, displaying the attitude of a seasoned adventurer.

“Isn’t it possible to demand hush money in return for keeping our mouths shut?” Wolfgang also proposed an adventurer-like opinion, suggesting threatening the village head and extorting money from him.

If we fill our pockets with such money, wouldn’t we become accomplices or abettors? Besides, wouldn’t the village head have some tricks up his sleeve?

Certainly, it was a very adventurous idea, living only for today.

“I don’t think I can just leave adventurers who threatened me after my father’s death alone,” I countered Wolfgang’s opinion, shaking my head.

Unless he was an existence as untouchable as a notorious adventurer, it was an excessively risky idea.

In the end, we decided to quietly bury this matter as Lautte suggested. Just in case, we did sneakily take note of the situation.

◆◆

Now that we’ve cleared out all the offspring in the warehouse, the only thing left is the main passage in the gangway.

We retraced our steps and headed back to the crossroads, then this time we chose the right passage and continued on.

After walking for about twenty minutes…

I thought we might have to fight a few more times on the way, but strangely, after passing the crossroads, we didn’t encounter any giant spiders at all.

Were the spiders gathered at the crossroads the last of them?

Perhaps that was the case. Especially considering that no one came to stop us even though their offspring were being wiped out.

Anyway, we finally reached the end of the gangway.

“Is this…?”

A wide cavity, as if dug out of earth and rock like someone suffering from osteoporosis, with holes pierced through the walls and the floor inexplicably damp.

“Have we arrived?”

“It seems so.”

The interior was much larger than expected, to the point where we couldn’t assess the condition of the ceiling with just the torchlight.

“Seems like there are no giant spiders… Kikell, how about the ceiling? Can we check it by the smell?”

“Ssssss…! Difficult. Nose stings, smoke is strong…!”

Kikell grumbled, his tongue tingling and his nose paralyzed due to the foul odor and smoke that filled the entire warehouse.

…Relying on scent for reconnaissance had its problems.

“Well, then, nothing we can do. For now, let’s cautiously examine above our heads.”

If the spiders were clinging to the ceiling, they would eventually attack us. So, all we needed to do was thoroughly cover our heads and explore the interior of the warehouse in preparation for a surprise attack.

“Right. Shield girl. Route? Use the shield umbrella.”

Kikell said, holding his shield above his head to shield against potential surprise attacks from the giant spiders while exploring the interior with the shield covering his head.

“Like this?”

Route raised the round shield over her head.

Just as she was about to step towards the interior of the warehouse…

“Um… instead, why not just throw a torch toward the ceiling?”

“Ah.”

Surprisingly, incredibly, the octopus chimpanzee achieved a dramatic evolution.

Perhaps it was thanks to the experience points gifted by the giant spiders.

Finally, he evolved from a creature that merely flailed its front and hind legs to a primitive being who grasped the concept of ‘throwing’!

Throwing.

It was the secret that ancient ancestors of humanity used to reign as predators, hunting down massive beasts.

Even the fur-clad ancient elephants couldn’t withstand their spears and could only meet their demise.

The fact that Wolfgang grasped the concept of throwing meant that he could finally be recognized as part of humanity.

“That sounds good. Kikell. Please allow me.”

“Trust!”

Taking Wolfgang’s torch, Kikell casually spun around, then with a sharp roar, hurled the torch he had gripped above his head.

Fwoosh!

The torch shot up with a crimson tail, illuminating the surroundings like the rising morning sun.

Three seconds later, the light from the soaring torch finally reached the warehouse ceiling, brightly illuminating the area.

And…

“Kiiiiiiik!”

The monster clinging to the ceiling let out a fierce scream in response to the sudden light.

“What’s that…?!”

The expressions of the group stiffened.

Gang, still clinging to the ceiling with its claws, gazed down at us in a monstrous form, shocking everyone.

A body covered in armor. Eight hairy legs. Fangs protruding from each side of its wide-open mouth.

At first glance, it resembled a giant spider based on its external features.

“A gigantic spider!”

Unlike the typical human-sized giant spiders, this one was easily more than three times the size of a person.

What else could be so massive?

Though just larger in size, unlike the “giant spiders” commonly seen, it had no difference in appearance.

And on top of its head…

“Kiiiiiiik…!”

Instead of a face resembling an arachnid with eight eyes, there was a human face attached to it.

“It has come…!”

And it even spoke.

Inhumanly wrinkled forehead. Sparse white hair trailing like seaweed, barely remaining at the back and sides, while the cheeks were sunken as if from ten years of famine.

A sagging lower jaw was filled with sparse gray beard, and blue veins bulged in the empty eye sockets as if the eyes had been gouged out.

“…Damn.”

An expletive involuntarily escaped.

A spider monster several meters in size with the face of a man with gouged-out eyes. I knew what it was.

“Good heavens…!”

Rautte, too, seemed to have heard of it, her expression not just stiff but completely drained of color.

“Spirit Spider…!”

She whispered its name.

Spirit Spider.

The name of a creature that only seasoned adventurers or knights could confront.

“Hurry…come…my son…!”

“…Son?”

Kirkel glanced briefly at Wolfgang and then spoke with a somewhat trembling voice.

“It looks just like him. Right, Father?”

“No!”

Wolfgang shouted as if having a fit.