A Devil in the Dungeon: New Environment

New Environment

Tanya spent a few minutes lamenting her current situation before she decided she had wallowed enough in her own self-pity. She had work to do if she didn’t want to end up as an indentured servant to whatever being touted itself as an ancient sun god.

She got dressed quickly, stripping off her white tunic and swapping it for her flight suit. The garment had been properly cleaned and even stitched, much to her pleasure. The boots were even shined as if she had done so herself.

Tanya fitted the cuirass over the whole ensemble, strapping it on with some difficulty. The pitted metal cuirass may not have fit the aesthetics of her standard issue military uniform, but she wasn’t going to simply lug it around and she certainly wasn’t going to leave it here.

Once properly fitted, she strapped her knife to her thigh and did a quick inspection on her pistol one last time before holstering it at her hip. Finally satisfied, Tanya grabbed her satchel and made her way out of the infirmary.

The Guild hall proper was alive with activity, a bustling cathedral of chatter and movement that would have made the wartime HQ back in the Fatherland seem like a dingy office in comparison. The architecture was grand without being ostentatious, built in accordance for actual needs rather than to satisfy an ego. Tanya immediately approved.

The moment Tanya stepped out of the infirmary corridor and into the main lobby, she felt the weight of dozens of eyes turning to appraise her, followed by a smattering of whispers and pointed fingers.

Tanya ignored the attention with the practiced ease of a veteran officer who had long since grown numb to the scrutiny of subordinates and superiors alike. Perhaps some of them were there when she collapsed, or perhaps they were simply confused why a child was marching out of the infirmary. It didn’t matter. She had more important matters to attend to.

Eina was seated at a booth along the far wall, speaking to a group of armored adventurers with a harried expression before she turned her head and caught sight of Tanya. Her face lightened slightly and she offered a tentative wave. Tanya returned the gesture with a polite nod, but did not approach. The woman was clearly busy, and Tanya had no intention of interrupting her work out of some misplaced sense of obligation.

She made her way across the hall, weaving through the crowd of adventurers. The double doors loomed ahead, grand enough to suggest that whoever had built this place wanted visitors to feel small.

Tanya pushed them open and stepped through, the cool evening air hitting her face as she paused on the threshold, beholding the city she had been dropped into. Orario.

And what a city it was. Tanya took a moment to simply observe her new surroundings, digesting the sight before her with weary eyes.

She was greeted by a bustling street, choked full with people of all ages and even races. Some were clearly adventurers, donning armor and weapons of varying quality, while others were simple civilians in modest clothing going about their daily business. Food stalls had been set up right across from the Guild, clearly taking advantage of the healthy traffic to peddle their wares. It appeared to be working, as each stall was being patronized by at least two or three customers.

The buildings were a blend of stone and timber, practical in their construction but possessing a certain charm that even Tanya could notice. The streets were paved with cobblestones, worn smooth by years worth of shoes, and lined with shops selling everything from weapons to dried herbs to clothing.

The atmosphere was decidedly warm and fantastical, the kind of scene Tanya imagined one might picture when cracking open a fantasy book to get lost in the pages of an imagined world. All in all, a far cry from where she was before.

I imagine a few of my men would have enjoyed visiting a place like this, Tanya thought as she began to walk, keeping her pace unhurried as she took in the scenery.

Despite the monsters lurking just beneath their feet, the city itself was alive. The people were—if not happy—then at least content. There was a distinct lack of tension in the air, the absence of the haggard expressions and desperate movements that characterized a populace living under the shadow of war.

“I suppose the Dungeon gives them a common enemy,” Tanya murmured to herself, stepping around a group of laughing teenagers. “At the very least, they’re unlikely to be fighting amongst themselves if there are holes full of monsters everywhere.”

That was good news for her. It meant she didn’t have to worry about being drafted into some strange conflict after she cleared her debt. A stable economy with a consistent external threat was far preferable to the chaos she had left behind.

As she walked, Tanya took note of the numerous races around her. Humans were the majority, but she spotted individuals with pointed ears like Eina’s, others with stockier builds and thick beards, and a few with animalistic features such as tails, ears, and even fur.

As she walked, her eyes caught a commotion near one of the stalls. A young man with cat ears and a striped tail had been cornered by a merchant, his hand still buried in a pouch that clearly didn’t belong to him.

“Thief!” the merchant shouted, grabbing the pickpocket by the scruff of his neck. “Someone call the guards!”

Tanya observed the scene curiously, taking stock of the situation. The cat-eared youth struggled vainly, spitting curses while passersby stopped to watch. What interested her the most however, was the reaction of the crowd.

There was disgust, clearly directed at the act of theft itself, but Tanya noted that the disdain didn’t seem particularly targeted at the boy’s race. Even a nearby woman with rabbit ears was giving the pickpocket dirty looks, her expressions no different from the humans in the crowd.

A bit of discrimination is to be expected with so many races in such close proximity, Tanya thought, continuing on her way as a pair of armored guards arrived to haul the thief away. But it doesn’t appear to be institutionalized.

That was somewhat surprising but also refreshing. In her experience, prejudice flourished most dangerously when it was codified into law. As long as this society’s biases remained at the interpersonal level, she could navigate them easily enough.

Tanya turned down a side street, her mind already churning through the logistics of her situation. She had one month to repay one hundred thousand Valis. She possessed a broken computation orb, a pistol with limited ammunition, a combat knife, a piece of battered armor, and a satchel with an empty notebook.

Not the worst starting position, but far from ideal.

The first order of business was clear: she needed to learn the basics of this world. Laws, currency, geography, the current geopolitical state of affairs. Information was the foundation upon which all successful operations were built, and she was currently operating blind. She needed to find a library or some other public information repository so she could fill in some blanks.

Tanya wandered the streets for some time, keeping her eyes peeled for any building that might be what she was looking for. The architecture was eclectic, with some structures looked almost medieval while others possessed a more classical sensibility. None of them, however, appeared to be a library.

Though it wasn’t as though all hope was lost. Tanya quickly discovered that while she was a stranger in this world, the language was no stranger to her. The signs above shop doors, the labels on crates being unloaded from carts, the posters plastered on walls— all of it was in Japanese.

“Reusing assets, Being X?” Tanya muttered under her breath, resisting the urge to scoff. “How lazy.”

After thirty minutes of searching with no luck, Tanya decided to bite the bullet and ask a local for directions. She scanned the street for someone who looked approachable but not overly chatty, and her eyes quickly landed on a small food stall tucked into an alcove between two larger shops.

It was being manned by a short woman with black hair done up in twin pigtails and proportions that were, quite frankly, absurd. She was also dressed in oddly fancy attire for her profession, her bust straining against an elegant white dress, complete with silk gloves, with ribbons attached around her neck and in her hair.

She was arranging a tray of some kind of fried food, humming cheerfully to herself as Tanya approached. She raised her eyes as Tanya stopped in front of her stall, her face splitting into a cheerful, if somewhat tired, smile.

“Hello there! What would you like?”

The woman’s eyes flicked over Tanya’s appearance, but she didn’t comment, keeping that smile plastered on her face as she waited for a reply.

“Good afternoon,” Tanya said, dipping her head politely. “I apologize for interrupting your work, but I was wondering if you could direct me to the nearest library.”

The woman blinked, clearly having expected a different request. “A library? I think we have one of those…” She put a finger to her chin, murmuring to herself. “Uh… Oh! Yeah, it’s just a couple blocks north from here! You’ll see a big building that looks like a church. There’s no sign out front, but you won’t miss it if you know what you’re looking for.”

Tanya nodded, filing away the directions. “Thank you. I won’t take up any more of your time.”

Her business concluded, she turned to leave, but before she could take more than a step, the woman’s voice called out behind her. “Wait! Don’t you want to buy something?”

Tanya paused and turned back. Her eyes fell upon the items the woman was peddling. What she had mistaken for pastries turned out to be some kind of fried potato snack, golden and slightly misshapen, sitting in a neat row on a wax paper liner.

They didn’t look particularly impressive, but the smell was unexpectedly pleasant, rich with the scent of oil and salt. Her stomach, traitor that it was, chose that exact moment to remind her that she hadn’t eaten in two days. Unfortunately, her pockets were just as empty.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any money at the moment,” Tanya said. “Perhaps another time.”

The woman looked taken aback, her lips parting slightly in surprise. She glanced from Tanya’s face to the potato puffs and back again, her brow furrowing with something that looked suspiciously like concern.

Then, with an oddly determined look, she picked up one of the puffs and held it out across the counter. “Here.”

Tanya stared at the offered food. “Excuse me?”

“Take it,” the woman said, pushing it toward her insistently. “You look hungry. Besides, if you like it, you can always come back and buy a few more later!”

Tanya accepted the wrapped potato, holding it gingerly in her hands. It was warm, radiating a gentle heat that was pleasant against her skin.

“A sample to reel in customers,” she observed, holding the food up for inspection. “A good business practice, if a bit inefficient. You’re betting your product against people’s selfishness.”

The woman blinked, and then laughed. “Oh, I don’t know about that. You just look like you need it.”

Tanya regarded her for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she took a bite.

The crispy potato skin yielded to her teeth with only the barest pressure, bursting open to reveal a soft, fluffy interior. Salt and butter blended together in a pleasant manner, giving the normally flavorless spud a burst of something actually palatable, and Tanya found it no challenge to take another bite immediately after she swallowed the first.

“It’s pretty good,” Tanya complimented, finishing the puff in two more bites. “Thank you for your generosity. I will endeavor to repay it once I have established a stable income.”

The woman beamed. “I’ll hold you to that! Good luck with the library!”

Tanya gave the woman a polite nod of farewell before continuing on her way, following the directions she had been given. The potato puff sat warmly in her stomach, and she licked her lips free of lingering salt.

Maybe there’s an art in making something that simple, she mused as she turned onto a new street. Whatever the case, I’ll certainly be coming back.

True to the woman’s word, the library wasn’t difficult to find. Tanya walked two blocks north, her eyes scanning the buildings until she spotted exactly what had been described: a large structure that bore a striking resemblance to a church, complete with high windows and a bell tower. There was no sign proclaiming it as a library, but the architecture was rather distinct.

However, as she approached the heavy wooden doors, she noticed a piece of parchment tacked to the center of them.

Tanya stepped closer, squinting at the handwritten notice.

“Closed for deep cleaning and recataloguing,” she read aloud, her voice flat. “Expected to reopen tomorrow. We apologize for any inconvenience.”

She stared at the sign for a long moment, her expression unchanging.

Of course.

Of course the library would be closed. Of course it would be closed for something as mundane as cleaning, and of course it would reopen the very next day, just soon enough to make waiting the only logical option while still being an inconvenience.

“If I didn’t know better,” Tanya muttered, turning away from the locked doors, “I’d say you were testing my patience. But we’ve already proven that you lack the creativity for something so specific, I’ll chalk this up to simple bad luck.”

Being X, unsurprisingly, did not respond.

Tanya sighed, tucking her hands behind her back as she considered her options. She could wait until tomorrow to access the library, but that left her with the rest of the afternoon and evening to fill. She still needed to secure lodging for the night, so she could begin formulating a plan to repay her debt.

“This is a textbook fantasy setting so a tavern, perhaps?” She muttered to herself.

That way she could gather information from the locals in a more informal setting. Alcohol had a way of loosening tongues, and even if she couldn’t afford to drink, simply being present might yield useful intelligence.

With a new destination in mind, Tanya set off again.

She wandered the streets aimlessly, following the flow of traffic in hopes that it would lead her to her destination. Night was slowly transitioning to evening, and it was quickly approaching the time for dinner and a stiff drink.

Soon enough, the crowd led Tanya to an area of the city that smelled heavily of cooked meat and spices. People laughed boisterously outside of businesses, tipsy or well on their way there. She was where she wanted to be.

She quickly found herself standing before a modest but well-maintained establishment. The sign above the door held the words “Hostess of Fertility” painted in cheerful, if slightly faded, lettering.

The tavern was clearly popular; even from the street she could hear the murmur of conversation and the clink of tankards from within. Tanya pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The interior was exactly what she had hoped for – warm lighting, burning hearth, and a homely atmosphere. Patrons filled the tables, ranging from what appeared to be local craftsmen enjoying an early dinner, to a group of heavily armed individuals sitting at a table near the back, their voices raised in boisterous laughter that bordered on belligerence.

Tanya approached the bar, sliding onto a stool with only a bit of difficulty. The surface was clean, she noted, and the stools were well-maintained. All signs of an establishment that cared about repeat business.

“Welcome, welcome!”

The voice was surprisingly deep for a woman, carrying a warmth that seemed to fill the room. Tanya turned to find herself being addressed by a woman of stout build who moved around the bar with an authority that spoke of ownership. She had tan skin, dark hair pulled back into a practical bun, and forearms that flexed as she wiped down a tankard with a cloth.

“First time in Orario, sweetie?” the woman asked, setting down the tankard and leaning on the bar. Despite her demeanor, her eyes were sharp, taking in Tanya’s gear and petite frame with an appraisal that was assessing but not unkind.

“You could say that,” Tanya replied. “I assume you are the owner?”

“Mama Mia,” the woman confirmed, extending a hand that could probably crush walnuts. Tanya shook it, her own tiny hand completely dwarfed in the woman’s grip. “And you are either the most confident child I’ve ever seen, or the shortest adventurer to crawl out of that Dungeon in one piece.”

“Sometimes one does what one must,” Tanya said flatly. “Age is merely a number, at least as far as competency is concerned.”

Mama Mia blinked, then let out a booming laugh that drew eyes from nearby tables. “Ha! Fair enough, kid. Fair enough. So, what’ll you have? The stew’s fresh and the bread’s not too stale yet.”

“I’m here for information, primarily,” Tanya folded her hands on the bar. “And perhaps a room, if you have one available.”

“Plenty of both,” Mama Mia said, nodding toward the stairs. “Rooms are thirty Valis a night, including breakfast. Dinner’s extra unless you’re buying the stew.”

Tanya’s expression didn’t change. “I’m afraid I don’t have any local currency at the moment.”

Mama Mia’s smile dimmed slightly, her brows drawing together. “Then why in the world would you—”

“However,” Tanya interrupted, reaching into her satchel and producing the patched pouch she had scavenged from the dead adventurer. She untied the drawstring and let the purple stones spill onto the wooden bar with a heavy clatter. “I have these.”

Mama Mia leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with interest. She picked up one of the crystals, holding it to the light where it cast a faint violet glow across her face.

“Well, well,” Mama Mia murmured, rolling the stone between her fingers. “We don’t usually take raw drops from the Dungeon, but… give me a second to count these out.”

“Be my guest,” Tanya nodded, happy that her offer hadn’t been dismissed out of hand.

Mama Mia counted the stones quickly, her lips moving silently, then scooped them back into the pouch. She did it with the ease of someone who had clearly done it millions of times before, making Tanya wonder if her earlier words were completely true.

She counted everything in less than thirty seconds. She tied the sack closed and looked at Tanya with a grin, “Pretty good haul, kid. By my reckoning, there’s enough here for two weeks of full room and board.”

Tanya nodded, accepting the terms immediately. “That is more than acceptable.”

“Good. You sit tight. I’ll fetch your keys and get you something to eat. No arguments! You look thin as a stick under that armor,” Mama Mia turned and lumbered toward the back, her heavy boots thudding against the floorboards.

Tanya obeyed, settling onto the barstool and letting her boots hang a few inches off the ground. She rested her hands on the polished wood of the bar, taking the opportunity to scan the room.

The Hostess of Fertility seemed to be rather popular. When she walked in, there were a few open tables still available, but they were quickly filling up. Waitresses bustled back and forth, taking orders and filling tankards, and the rowdy group in the back continued their boisterous celebration, their laughter occasionally punctuated by the crash of a tankard slamming against wood.

She was still cataloging the exits when the presence manifested beside her.

“Well, well, well,” a voice slurred, rich with the particular arrogance of alcohol and unearned confidence. “What’s a little thing like you doing sitting all alone? Waiting for your parents to pick you up?”

Tanya carefully kept her eyes forward and her expression neutral, even as her fingers twitched slightly toward her knife. The voice belonged to a man, young by the timbre, and clearly intoxicated. She could smell the alcohol on him.

“I said,” the voice repeated, closer now, accompanied by the scrape of a stool being dragged across the floor. A hand came down on the bar beside her, invading her personal space in a very deliberate manner. “You look a bit young to be drinking, rookie. Or are you one of those ‘child prodigy’ adventurers I keep hearing about?”

Tanya turned her head slowly.

The speaker was a young man with rugged features, though they were currently softened by drink. He wore armor of a higher quality than most in the room: polished bronze and leather accented with a crest Tanya did not recognize. His eyes were glazed but confident, the look of a man who was used to taking what he wanted and rarely being told no.

“I am not looking for company,” Tanya said flatly. “I suggest you return to your celebration.”

The man laughed, drawing the attention of a few nearby patrons. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. “Come on, don’t be like that. My Familia takes care of its own, you know? We could always use fresh faces. Cute ones, especially.” He reached out as if to touch her shoulder.

Tanya’s hand slipped past her knife and gripped the rim of the barstool. The man was close enough that she could drive her elbow into his throat with only a little difficulty, and from there she would be pleased to do as she wished. It would be messy, and likely involve a brawl with his companions, but it was better than—

“Oi!”

The voice cracked like a whip across the tavern, freezing the man’s hand inches from Tanya’s armor.

Mama Mia stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her massive frame filling the frame, keys clutched in one hand and a platter of warm bread in the other. Her narrowed eyes were fixed on the adventurer with an intensity that chilled even Tanya’s bones.

“Get your hand off of my customer,” Mama Mia said, her voice even but carrying a promise of pain. “Now.”

The man hesitated, his drunken pride warring with his survival instincts. He withdrew his hand, raising it in a placating gesture, though his smile remained oily. “I was just being friendly. Welcoming a new adventurer to the city, you know? I didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable or nothing.”

“That so?” Mama Mia said, striding forward with a gait that made the floorboards groan. She set the platter down with a thud, then reached across the bar.

Mama Mia’s thick fingers closed around the man’s wrist and twisted with enough force to crush bone. The man let out a yelp as he was forced to his knees, his arm bent at an angle that promised pain if he resisted.

“Well in that case,” Mama Mia said conversationally, leaning over the bar so her face was inches from his. “you won’t have any trouble apologizing to the girl and getting out of my business. You’re disturbing the other customers, and I’ve had enough of you lot stinking up my tables with your cheap wine and cheaper manners.”

“S-sorry,” the man gasped out, his face red from the pressure or humiliation.

Mama Mia released him with a shove that sent him stumbling backward into his table, upsetting several tankards. His companions—the same group that Tanya had noticed when she walked in the door—rose with indignant shouts, but one look from Mama Mia had them thinking better of causing problems. Muttering curses under their breath, they gathered their gear and dragged their humiliated companion toward the exit.

The tavern quickly settled back into its usual rhythm, though conversation was a bit muted out of respect for the dwarf’s power.

Mama Mia dusted off her hands and turned back to Tanya, her expression softening instantly back into that of a hospitable innkeeper. “Sorry about that, dear. Some of the adventurers around here get rowdy when they’re celebrating. Bread’s on the house tonight, and here’s your key. Your room’s at the top of the stairs, third door on the left. Clean sheets, lock on the door, and a window that opens if you need air.”

Tanya accepted the key graciously. “Thank you. For the help, and the room.”

“Anything for a paying customer,” Mama Mia laughed. “No one bothers my guests while they’re under my roof.”

Tanya nodded, tucking the key into her pocket. “I believe I will take dinner in my room, if it’s all the same. I’ve had a bit of a rough day.”

“Fair enough. I’ll send something up in an hour,” Mama Mia said, already turning to wipe down the bar with a rag that could have doubled as a towel. “And kid? If anyone else bothers you, you tell me. I don’t tolerate harassment of my customers, no matter how big their Familia is.”

Tanya paused at the stairs, looking back at the broad-shouldered dwarf. For the first time since arriving in this world, she felt something akin to relief.

She climbed the stairs to her room, already calculating how to turn thirty days and a hundred thousand Valis into a future that didn't involve indentured worship.