Chapter 4
The Three Unacceptable Brothers
“…Skaro, what is that thing?”
I pointed at the floating map panel in the center of the square.
Every time a gate rose, a specific coordinate appeared on the map. The locations marked varied widely from gate to gate.
Skaro glanced at the turtle-human and dwarven boy standing far away before speaking:
“It’s a map, just as you see. Supposedly it shows the whole continent we’ll be going to.”
“What about the marked coordinates then?”
“Likely the spot where this gate will summon us.”
“But even if they mark it for us, we don’t know anything about that world. What’s the point?”
“Hmm… That’s…”
Skaro and I turned our heads to look at the map simultaneously.
There were four panels floating above the map. They were labeled Mittelrand, Unterland, Markeuteuriseu, and Dragon Empire Kenain.
Apparently, these names represented the lands occupying the north, south, east, and west of the continent. Next to them, a panel that appeared to indicate garden trees was blinking.
“I’ve heard that it’s related to the difficulty of the test area…”
“Difficulty?”
“Being the first to enter is definitely advantageous, that’s what the lesser deity said.”
Right after Skaro finished his sentence, a gate rose. The location marked on the map was “Revolutionary City Alek” in Mittelrand. Despite never seeing these characters before, I could read them naturally – quite an intriguing sensation.
Regardless of the names and places, once again a large number of people gathered.
“Mittelrand’s Revolutionary City Alek! 35 openings for heroes!”
“Uraaaaaah! It’s me! This time it’s meee!”
The gate absorbed countless people with a whoosh and closed in an instant.
Skaro glanced at me after silently observing the scene.
“Do you remember the location of that Revolutionary City?”
“It was a bit to the northwest.”
“That’s correct. Keep watching.”
Following Skaro’s suggestion, I continued to observe the summoning locations of the appearing gates. Skaro didn’t participate in the rush either, instead watching the gates with me from afar.
Because of his particularly relaxed demeanor, it felt like the two of us had fallen into a different world.
“Markeiteuriseu’s Captain’s Ridge! Opens for 30 heroes!”
“Unterland’s Mechanical Arm Battlefield! 40 openings for heroes!”
“Dragon Empire Kenain! Port city Sohuang! Positions open…!”
At some point, I widened my eyes. After spending nearly ten sessions – likely dozens of hours – watching the map while warming myself by the fire, I finally grasped the pattern.
North: Mittelrand.
West: Markeiteuriseu.
South: Unterland.
East: Dragon Empire Kenain.
The gates were precisely circling counterclockwise, dropping people in each country.
Then…
“The summoning locations seem to be spiraling outward, further and further…”
“Correct. You’ve got sharp eyesight.”
Skaro nodded and looked at me intently. Then he smiled faintly – a deflating kind of smile. It was the look of pity one has for a stray puppy on the roadside.
“It doesn’t matter where the place is. Even someone like me who seems knowledgeable is just repeating what the lesser deity told me. How would I know where you’ll end up in that world?”
“… Lesser deity? What’s that?”
“That female who summoned you here. They’re called lesser deities (亞神), a kind of subservient to the gods.”
“Ah. Shit…”
Skaro glanced at the crowd chasing after the gates as he concluded his words.
“Anyway, entering early is always advantageous. The further out you go, the astronomically harder the trials become, and it’s said there’s a drastic difference in the rewards for passing them.”
“…”
That’s when I finally understood. That’s why the people were chasing the gates with fiery determination, desperate to enter first.
Meanwhile, new gates kept appearing.
“Mittelrand, Argon Underground Waters! 40 openings for heroes!”
“Waaaah!”
“Markeiteuriseu, Promised Plain! 35 openings for heroes!”
“Owaaaah!”
Crowds of people buzzed around like hornets following the gates that rose every few hours. Just as I was spacing out, someone tapped my back lightly. Naturally, it was Skaro.
“Well, can you just keep standing there like that?”
Before I could respond, Skaro suddenly shot off. In front of him, a new gate had risen, radiating a dazzling light.
“Unterland’s Kalturus Floating Prison Ship! Opens for 15 heroes!”
Without replying, I started chasing after Skaro.
“GRRAAAHH!”
I had become one of those hornets.
…
And…
It’s been about three months since I came here.
When I first arrived, there were thousands of people. But as the gates were continuously opening and sending people away, the number of new arrivals decreased drastically in comparison.
At a certain point, no new arrivals came at all. Naturally, the number of people here kept decreasing.
Now, there are only about sixteen people left.
Sixteen. Sixteen total dropouts. Losers of losers.
Of course, I’m among them.
Hahaha.
Shit.
“Hey, friend! Did you have a good dream tonight?”
Someone was talking to me as I woke up briefly from my nap.
Dark green hair that looked like seaweed stretching out lazily. A relaxed middle-aged man with eyes that appeared slit to the side and a frog-like smooth lower body, standing at a height of at least two meters.
His name is Skaro.
Age? Self-proclaimed 320 years old.
After three months of rubbing elbows with this guy in this hellhole, we’ve somehow become quasi-friends. Even though I’m still not sure how Skaro’s age is relevant, it’s surprising how well we get along despite the 320-year age gap.
Should I be happy about that?
No, this kind of connection is tragically ironic.
I’m pretty sure Skaro feels the same way.
“Now there are only sixteen of us. Just sixteen. Today must be the day we all graduate from this monotonous place. Don’t be so deflated, friend. It’s going to be a joyful day!”
Skaro encouraged me, rubbing my shoulder as his eyes were still drowsy from sleep, trying to appear calm.
Yeah. That’s just an act. The force behind his hands is too strong, and it feels like my shoulder might break any second. I grabbed his hand that was breaking my shoulders as if it were a demo.
“Oh come on, man. Just relax. Are we going to war or something?”
“It is war! War! You probably don’t know, but I’ve been here for one year and six months. Do you understand how I’ve felt through all that time? It has been truly heartbreaking!”
“…”
Skaro appealing to me as if he had caught me in a good spot for a conversation.
When he says it like that, there’s nothing to respond. That man must have suffered immensely during his stay here.
It’s already enough to drive me crazy in just three months – one year and six months? The fact that he hasn’t lost his mind and can still hold a normal conversation is, to me, a miracle.
“Private kitchen! Two candidates! Please come and receive your food allowance!”
As I was feeling sorry for Skaro, a golem appeared somewhere shouting loudly, gathering people’s attention. It’s the sound that marks the one daily meal.
Skaro and I got up from our spots with familiar motions.
“Do you know what’s on the menu today, sir?”
“I do not.”
“What could it be, sir?”
“Seafood bibimbap sauce? Anything but that would be a blessing. It’s the worst taste I’ve ever had in my 320 years of life.”
“Ah. I agree with that.”
Most of the menu consists of meals similar to military rations. Well, it’s just military rations.
The crucial difference is this: while military rations leave you hungry no matter how much you eat, one meal here is substantial enough that you won’t be hungry for about a week.
Therefore, Skaro and I, who have consistently had one meal a day, are treated as quite peculiar here.
“Still, this type of meal distribution brings back memories, reminding me of my old mercenary days. Hoho!”
“Not for me, sir. Military life and cafeteria food come to mind, and it disgusts me.”
“Hmm, is that so? Even when eating from the same pot, our impressions differ so much, it’s quite surprising.”
“Nothing surprising about this.”
“Ho ho! You’re a very simple friend, really.”
All in all, it’s great, but the complex meal application process needs improvement. Getting food is more complicated than going on a military vacation.
“Have a good meal, candidates.”
“Uh, thank you for your hard work.”
The golem politely offered us the food tray. We’ve seen each other a lot lately, it’s almost like we’ve grown fond of each other. I automatically replied before looking down at the tray absentmindedly.
Today’s menu leaned towards Western cuisine. There was a meat stir-fry we’ve never seen before, a familiar shape of bread, soup, milk, and even dessert in the form of jelly.
“You guys are like piglets, aren’t you? Why the hell are you eating so much every single day?”
As we returned to the campfire with our food, the usual quarrel came from the other side.
I’ve gotten used to it by now, but Skaro dropped his tray to the ground and immediately walked over to the person causing trouble.
“What’s your problem, you old turd? You’re so annoying.”
“Are you kidding me?!”
Standing in front of Skaro with an unpleasant expression was a short boy less than one meter in height.
His name is Aldcon Growers. Though he looks like a boy, his actual age is forty-nine years old. He’s a classic “Dwarf” – or dwerg.
I’ve heard about the average lifespan of their race, and it’s around fifty years. So this old man has really seen it all.
He’s also a textbook grumpy old man.
“What? Don’t you get it, you old frog?”
“You talking about it makes me want to ignore it even more.”
“Why, you bastard?!”
“Hmph.”
With the food tray and the campfire in between, an explosive war of nerves unfolded between the grumpy Dwarf grandfather and the amphibian uncle (?).
This isn’t surprising; it’s like a pre-meal event. I started eating first.
“You’re just here for a field trip, aren’t you? Is this like a camping trip to you guys? That’s why you’re still stuck here, you bastards.”
“You, the one talking, don’t even have one meal a day, so why are you still here?”
“I, I’m a Dwarf! It’s too disadvantageous for me physically! My situation’s different from you guys who just sit around eating boxed lunches!”
When it got to this point, I hit the edge of the tray a few times with my soup spoon.
A clear sound rang out and both their eyes turned to me. I pushed Skaro’s bread toward them.
“Quit arguing uselessly and eat instead. What good will our squabbles do if no one kicks us out?”
“…”
“Hem hem. Right. I always learn from you, my friend.”
Still with a sour face, Aldcon clicked his tongue and Skaro scratched his head sheepishly as he returned to his food tray. I chuckled quietly to myself before refocusing on my meal.
…By the way, this Dwarf grandfather is also another long-staying resident here, almost reaching one year of stay.
The reason he constantly clashes with Skaro is simply because they’ve known each other for too long. If we consider it as “resentment,” Aldcon might be closer to Skaro than me.
Proof of this is that while muttering curses with his mouth, Aldcon always lingers around Skaro.
The body doesn’t lie, they say. In short, he’s just lonely. That old grumpy fellow also needs someone to talk to.
‘Of course, the best course would be getting out of here immediately, so you don’t need a companion.’
But since that’s not possible, a symbiotic relationship naturally forms.
Looking deeper, our relationship is quite tragic.
“Oh, you’re eating again as usual.”
Then a clear, pleasant voice colored our previously cold atmosphere. The three of us turned our heads simultaneously.
A woman of indeterminate age with aqua hair and silver eyes was walking toward us.
