A Place to Belong
Unable to come up with any particular breakthroughs, we’ve come to the second night since I arrived here. Those guys seem to think I’m broken; none of them have ever tried to buy something from me.
The three people I gave porno mags to showed up just one time after that. They appeared to be paying attention to me, glancing my way every now and again, but it didn’t look like any of them told the others about how I changed shape or that they got magazines for free. If they did, the fact that they tried to assault Hulemy would reach their boss’s ears, and they don’t want that.
Or maybe they were afraid of the magazines being confiscated.
Hulemy continues talking with me, doing her analysis at her own pace—not to tell their ringleader about me but purely out of academic interest.
They do bring her food in the morning and evening, but she’s been tossing it all into a barrel in the corner of the room and closing the lid. Foodwise, she’s getting by entirely on what I’m providing her, so she doesn’t need to eat that gross-looking stuff.
As a side note, her dinner tonight was two different varieties of cup ramen and some pressed potato chips. I considered stocking a new product, but points are too valuable in this dire situation. I decided I should save up as much of them as possible to prepare for the worst.
Hulemy exhales noisily. “Thanks again for the food. Man, your cooking is crazy. I can’t even come close to this stuff. I’m always too busy doing research.”
I’m not the amazing one—it’s how good the manufacturers are.
Her skin looks a lot better now, probably after two days of gorging herself on food. I think her cheeks might have even filled out a bit. She’s still skinny, but it makes her look more attractive than before.
Her once-disheveled hair is now silky smooth, back to its ideal state. This is the result of me giving her bottled water, which I warm up, since it normally comes out of me cold, in addition to the shampoo and hair treatment you might see in a vending machine in a hotel or deluxe public bath. I gave her a towel, too, of course.
“Phew. That was refreshing.”
Without caring one bit about the vending machine in the room, Hulemy, having exposed her upper body, washes her face, wipes herself down, and downs a bottle of coffee milk with a look of satisfaction.
Coffee milk is what you drink after a bath. I’m not budging on that. I look at her body again, without the blackened clothing, and while her upper body is rather unfortunate, her lower body is overflowing with feminine charm. She has child-rearing hips… Not that the observation denotes any lewd thoughts.
At this point, a normal man would probably be turned on, but after becoming a vending machine, I think such feelings have weakened for me. I’d have no way to release them anyway, so it works out.
Hulemy is making a good show of being relaxed, but our time runs out tomorrow morning. If we’re going to escape, tonight will most likely be our last chance. I’ll draw their attention while she escapes. That’s the best plan, I think, but I have no way to tell her.
This stupid automatic-communication disorder. Now that it’s come to this, I think we could force a siege, too… If she can somehow carry me over to the door, it should make it fairly hard to open. I can give her food, so we can hold out for about a week.
If that’s what we’re going to do, though, her carrying me to the door is the impossible obstacle.
“Well, I guess what will be, will be. Boxxo, don’t worry too much about it! I’ll explain how valuable you are. If I can convince them that I can repair you if I have more time, I’m sure they’ll believe me. They’re idiots, after all!”
Now that she’s refreshed and finished wiping herself down, she takes off the clothes she’s been wearing and puts on a pair of underwear and a men’s-size T-shirt that I gave her.
Ah, the underwear plus a baggy T-shirt. I always wanted to be in this situation just once back in Japan—to think that I’d experience it in another world, of all places. Reincarnating was worth it.
The underwear and T-shirt are both, of course, things I’ve bought at vending machines. Oh, and I’d like to emphasize that the women’s underwear was something I bought as a mistake. A mistake, understand?
“This is going to be too cold, so I’ll put this on.”
Now that she’s refreshed, she’s going to put on those worn, blackened clothes? I have experience purchasing underwear and shirts at vending machines, but unfortunately, I’ve never seen pajamas. I think they’re probably out there if you search for them—it goes to show how inexperienced I was as an enthusiast.
I’ve never seen blanket or futon vending machines, and even if I had, they would have been too big for an impulse buy. Instead, I’ll give her a bunch of bath towels. You can frequently see this item at deluxe public baths and hotels.
“I’m ashamed to use something so clean and white.”
Please go ahead and use it. You’ll catch a cold like that. We don’t know what will happen in the future. We can’t give up—we need to prepare for any situation.
“Boxxo, mind if I get serious for a second?”
“Welcome.”
She comes up to me, then lays a bath towel on the ground and takes a seat on it cross-legged. In that position, her panties are fully exposed, but it doesn’t matter. I suppose it would be stranger if she was embarrassed about it in front of a vending machine.
“If you’re thinking about letting me escape by sacrificing yourself, let me stop you right there. Even if I get outside, the region is crawling with monsters. You think I can survive out there when I have no combat abilities?”
She knew what I was thinking? I can only display my intent by answering yes-or-no questions, but I’ve talked to her quite a bit in these two days. She’s naturally smart, so I suppose my simple brain circuits are easy for her to read.
“Too bad.”
“Right? So it doesn’t do me any good to escape. We have to somehow stall for time and wait for a golden opportunity. I must seem like a pretty foolish woman to you, eh, Boxxo? I’m not very strong at all, but I act like a huge, reckless idiot. I’m not really scared of dying. Actually, I guess it’s more like those emotions are numb for me now… Ah, what am I saying? Anyway, I’m going to sleep! Good night!”
“Please come again.”
She lies down on the spot, covers herself with bath towels, and falls asleep within moments. Her ability to doze off in record time can only be called a special skill.
She was getting to some serious stuff. Something must have happened that she can’t tell other people. I don’t have any way to pry into her affairs, nor do I want to dig up her hidden past anyway.
Which brings us to midnight. Even the regulars here probably aren’t awake, save for the lookouts outside the door and the abandoned fortress. Now is the time to act, but what do you want a vending machine to do? I literally don’t have a leg to stand on.
The only thing I can do is protect her with my Force Field from those idiots, since they might come to attack her again thinking they’ll dispose of her anyway.
I can’t settle down, so I keep looking around the room, but the only things in here are a timeworn desk, a chair, some documents, the light of a magic item, and what looks like a set of tools. The ceiling is about ten feet high, and it, the walls, and the floor are made of stone that looks thick and sturdy.
The classic escape would be to dig through the wall, but how many years would that take? In the end, no matter how much I look around, there’s no way out. I’ve just about given up, prepared to wait for tomorrow.
Just then, there’s a soft sound, and my vending machine body shakes a little. What was that? It was almost nothing, but did I just hear something bursting open?
I listen hard with my nonexistent ears and hear another sound in the distance, like something exploding, followed by a clash of arms.
“Hey, what was that?!”
“It’s coming from above!”
I hear the guards shouting, and their footsteps disappear up the stairs. Does this mean the fortress is under attack?!
Then I have to wake up Hulemy.
“Get one free with a winner. Get one free with a winner. Get one free with a winner.”
“Huh? Wait, what? I, uh… What’s wrong, Boxxo?”
She looks at me with a half-asleep expression as she wipes some drool away. I have no way to explain, so for now—have this can of coffee to wake up.
“Oh, thanks.” She drinks some, and she burps. “Best thing for waking up in the morning.”
Her demeanor still reeks of “old dude,” but that doesn’t matter right now. The only thing I can think of in this situation is that a raid is happening. I have to find out who the lowlifes are fighting.
A couple guesses at the assailant’s identity come to mind. First, the monsters that roam the stratum. Second—hunters.
The settlement’s increase in activity naturally means an influx of villains like these who can smell the money. Let’s assume stealing me isn’t their first crime, and that they’ve committed many already. They could be on a watch list.
Still, this is too fortunate to be a coincidence, which means…
Wait, were they waiting for someone to steal me? A hunk of iron full of money is the perfect bait, isn’t it? They’re leaving a giant, defenseless safe in the middle of the road. It’s like they were asking criminals to go after me.
Plus, stealing me would be a pretty large-scale operation. I’m significantly valuable, too, which means it would take time and effort to move me. I must be the best bait around.
Hold on. Has Director Bear or someone in the association used me for a plan they thought up? But Director Bear would have told me beforehand. No, maybe they stole me as he was coming to tell me, and he used the opportunity? Whichever the case, if my prediction is correct, we’re saved!
“This noise… Are people fighting?”
Hulemy seems to have finally woken up. With her usual sharp gaze, she moves to the door and puts her ear to it.
“Yeah, they’re fighting someone, all right. Don’t know who, but this might be our chance.”
I was thinking the same thing. The worst scenario would be each side wiping the other out. If that happens, we’ll be trapped here.
She struggles to get the door open for a short while, but it’s locked from the outside, and it doesn’t look like there’s anything she can do.
“—xxoooo!”
Wait, that voice. I give a start—I know that voice. Hulemy must have an idea, too. She knits her eyebrows and clings to the door.
“Boxxooooooo! Wheeeeeere aaaaaaaare youuuuuuu?!”
I know this voice coming from the other side of the thick door all too well. It’s—
“Lammis?!”
Yes, it’s Lammis’s voice! I’d never mistake it. That means the hunters are the ones attacking. We’re saved!
“But wait, why is she here? Does this mean the Hunters Association is behind this? And she’s calling the name Boxxo. Do you know her?”
“Welcome.”
“Ohhh, great! Let’s make sure we don’t get in their way or hold them back. Wouldn’t be very funny if they took me hostage in desperation, after all.”
She seems to decide it’s safest next to me. She gets her clothes together and leans back against me.
“Hope you’ll protect me if you need to!”
“Welcome.”
Leave it to me. Protecting, at least, is something I’m confident I can do.
I begin to hear the sounds of fighting and angry shouts getting closer. The tremors I feel from time to time are most likely Lammis. If she removed her fetters and wielded her Might with all her strength, she could tear through these decayed fortress walls like tissue paper.
“This could be bad,” says Hulemy suddenly, looking at the ceiling. I look as well, but I don’t see anything wrong. A little bit of dust is falling, but I don’t think it’s enough to signal a collapse.
“The storeroom is above us. It’s got all the coins those garbage heaps amassed in it. That’s all well and good, but those morons had to start hoarding defective magicite—also known as blastite. Originally, magicite was used as a fuel source for magic items, but sometimes the mana built into it starts flowing strangely, and then you can’t use it for fuel—mishandling it could cause magic items to malfunction and break.”
Magicite exists, too? I’ve been wondering how magic items worked. I see—so that’s the trick.
“Anyway, defective magicite is hard to handle. I even heard a story once about a nation that stored a lot of it away, planning to use it for weaponry, but then the whole thing exploded, taking nearby facilities with it. Nowadays, it’s common sense to destroy it as soon as you find it…but they don’t know that. Some merchant probably sold them a bunch of huge pieces of blastite and told them it was magicite, and then they threw it all into the storeroom above us with the utmost care, as you can imagine. Morons, am I right?”
If this didn’t relate to us, I could say “what morons,” but this means there’s an unexploded bomb sitting right above us… Are they freaking morons?!
“Anyway, you get it now? If you give blastite a strong impact, things will turn real bad. If the roof of the storeroom above us collapses and it hits the blastite…”
Yeah. Right. Say no more. Lammis, could you please tone it down just a little bit?!
I think I feel the bangs and shaking getting closer!
“Uh, yeah, this is really bad.”
The moment the words leave Hulemy’s mouth, the ceiling comes crashing down with a thunderous boom.
