“Demons really are idiots~”
The young man spoke casually — clearly green, not much older than a kid by my reckoning.
“Don’t knock it. They’re the reason I’m making money.”
“Fair point, I suppose. Not that I care either way.”
Yeah, this one’s going to be trouble.
The type who looks down on the Demon Lord, looks down on me for doing this kind of work, and is privately convinced everyone around him is a fool.
No matter how well-prepared you are, that attitude leads to mistakes.
And mistakes in a dungeon mean death.
“That’s fine by me. More to recover, if anything.”
“Sorry? Did you say something?”
“Nothing.”
Close call. Why was I lowering my guard?
Whether this kid was a fool or not would become apparent soon enough.
Either he’d clear the dungeon with my guidance, or he’d end up exactly as I expected.
Either way, I’d already been paid — didn’t much matter to me.
“Alright. Here we are. The goblin dungeon.”
“Right, right. The dungeon the Demon Lord keeps pointlessly maintaining despite getting cleared of monsters and chests repeatedly.”
“Which means steady monster hunting to get stronger, and uncollected items if you’re lucky. Good deal all around.”
And I get paid to bring clients through it.
Good deal all around, like I said.
“I told you before, but I—”
“Just guide me. I heard you. I know the traps, the enemies, the layout — I can manage on my own.”
“Good.”
He cut me off like he was in a hurry to get inside.
Knew what he was doing, apparently. Time to get through another day’s work.
“You can handle goblins, I assume.”
“Are you mocking me? They were stronger than regular goblins, yes — but knowing that in advance means I won’t be caught off guard.”
“They really shine once they start buffing each other.”
“I know. I’ll be fine. I’m stronger than any goblin.”
He wasn’t wrong about that, at least.
I’d taken him for the kind of reckless fool who underestimates dungeons based purely on attitude, but he actually had the ability to back it up.
Still didn’t change my read on him. Having genuine ability just meant his overconfidence was more deeply ingrained.
He might make it through this one with my help. But he’d die eventually. Probably for a stupid reason.
“First stop — left path. That’s where a chest might be.”
“Hope there’s something worthwhile.”
“Don’t bother. Other people sweep it constantly. Whatever’s in there will be modest.”
And it was.
A few low-grade recovery potions.
Better than nothing, but clearly not what he was hoping for.
“Ahead — a rolling boulder.”
“Ah, this is the slope that’s killed a few people.”
“That’s right. If the trap goes off, fall back and wait it out.”
“Yeahhh.”
That tone, knowing full well people had died here.
What an idiot. A spectacular end awaits him somewhere, I’m sure.
Not my concern. No obligation to tell him.
The boulder triggered, and for once even he ran in earnest.
I glanced sideways — the young man who’d been dismissing traps left and right was sprinting with complete seriousness.
A shame he couldn’t maintain that in the dungeon at all times.
“Hm?”
“What—?”
We’d turned the corner, confirmed the boulder rolling past us.
I was about to exhale.
And then something came down hard from above.
“What the — what is this?”
“Hey! Old man! You didn’t say anything about this!”
The kid was yelling, but I didn’t know either!
If I’d known, I wouldn’t have ended up trapped in the cage myself!
Trapped… right. So I was every bit the fool I’d written off everyone else as being.
I thought I knew this dungeon inside and out.
The number of times it had been cleared, the way successful explorers talked freely about what they’d found — I’d gathered all of it, believed I understood every inch of the place.
And apparently there were still mechanisms I’d never learned about.
That realization came a little late.
The iron cage around us was solid and gave nothing. Couldn’t be broken, couldn’t be lifted.
No way to pick a lock that wasn’t there.
So this was how it ended — killed by the goblins.
“…”
“What the — who are you?!”
What appeared before me, as I braced for the end, was not goblins.
A golem. Large, solid-looking, built from stone.
Please don’t smash the cage with us still inside it.
I waited for the worst, but the worst didn’t come.
The golem grabbed the cage and began dragging it away.
No relaxing yet. Being dumped into the goblin nest and killed there was still entirely on the table.
Though in fairness, the how of dying was about all that had changed — getting out of here alive was never part of the picture.
◇
“Alright! Another day, let’s get to it!”
“Yes sir!!”
I’d matched the voices around me and shouted without thinking.
Why did I do that.
Where the golems had brought us — there were people. A lot of them.
A middle-aged man who seemed to be their leader explained our situation to us, and I nearly buried my face in my hands.
We’d been captured by demons.
Apparently there were more traps like that cage, and the people around me were all fools like me who’d blundered into one.
The leader had ended up here the same way — though I couldn’t quite believe that farming for demons was where things had led him.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Feeling off? You can rest, you know — pushing yourself won’t do you any good.”
“Dartol-san… I just can’t quite get my head around the situation.”
“I know the feeling. I still don’t understand what demons want with a farm. But they’re not killing us, and if the promise holds, we might get out of here someday. Might as well put in the work.”
“Right. There’s nothing else to do anyway. I’ll work for demons if it means staying alive.”
“That’s the spirit. Just don’t overdo it.”
“Yes sir!”
Lucky thing, at least, that the leader turned out to be a decent man.
The others around me were shaped by his example — people looking out for each other, treating each other well. If anything the environment was better than—
No. Underground, no sunlight, working for demons.
I refused to admit it was better than before.
“…”
Nothing for it. Work hard and see what happens.
I’d only met Dartol so far, but the demons who’d captured us apparently needed the hands.
They didn’t seem to intend to keep us indefinitely, so working honestly was the path to being let go someday.
That was the only option, so I’d farm the demon fields and let that thin thread of hope keep me going.
◇
“Rigma can act and he actually cares about people.”
“I’m exhausted! The old man is working too hard. I’m going to collapse.”
“Sorry. Your load really hasn’t lightened much.”
“Well, the old man does have a lot of skills. Once these humans are actually useful, I’m taking a proper break.”
He said it — but the way he’d been carrying on, he’d end up fussing over them anyway.
For someone who claimed to be lazy and unmotivated, Rigma was quietly turning out to be quite a worker.
“By the way — ‘Dartol’?”
“Hm? Oh — inspiration, I guess.”
“So a name you made up on the spot.”
“Made-up name for a made-up face and a made-up role. Not worth agonizing over.”
He said that — and then kept a watchful eye on every one of the humans below.
Stubborn old man.