Epilogue
“It’s not often that you agree to help if you’re not getting anything out of it, Captain,” says the very short lady standing next to Stubble, who’s wearing his wide-brimmed hat. She peers into the hole in the floor.
“Would you quit it? I’m the kind of guy who’s always nice to others, and good to himself, too.”
He flicks the brim of his hat and sets one foot atop the rubble, probably trying to strike a pose, but it’s met with a cold reaction from his teammates. Two young men, their only distinction being their red and white heads of hair, heave a loud sigh.
“Captain knows how valuable Boxxo is. You haven’t forgotten our goal, have you?” begins a woman impassively, explaining to her teammates as she runs a hand through her beautiful, wavy blue hair. “If we want to slay the stratum lords here and in other strata… Those will be long expeditions, and Boxxo is indispensable. If we make a name for ourselves with him, it should be easier to lure him into the Menagerie. At least, that’s the captain’s dirty— I mean, well-thought-out plan.”
“Vice Captain Filmina, did you just make fun of me?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Captain Kerioyl. I am ever your obedient subordinate…probably.”
She muttered the last word under her breath, but the captain seems to have heard. Veins pop out at his temples.
“But it’s true—if we can use that magic item, long expeditions will be easy!”
“Right? You get me. We have a goal. We need to use anything, any means to accomplish it. We can’t make our dream—the Menagerie of Fools’ dream—come true without Boxxo.”
Suddenly, the expressiveness on the teammates’ faces thins out and vanishes. Their banter is gone without a trace; standing there now are beast-like predators, eyes sharp, targeting their prey.
The girl embraces the magic-item box down in the collapsed hole, and they watch it carefully.
Afterword
I wonder what kind of person is reading this afterword right now. Even if you’ve already read the main story on Let’s Become Novelists, rest assured there’s extra content in here. If you’ve read the entire book without knowing what it was about…how did you like it? If you thought it was funny and interesting, then I’m fully satisfied.
To those of you who read the afterword first, without knowing what the book is about—my friend is one of those types—I’ll reveal one shocking fact that will make you want to read the story: The protagonist is a vending machine… Oh, you knew that from the title? My apologies. That definitely wasn’t a sufficient explanation, so allow me to touch on the story a bit.
To piggyback on that explanation, the protagonist is a man who died by being crushed under the weight of his vending machine obsession. But as fate would have it, he reincarnates as a vending machine. By the way, when I first talked about this concept with my friend, he was very nice. He said to me, “Writing more of your weird stories, I see…”
So the protagonist, now a vending machine, is sitting around on the lakeside in another world by himself, when the main heroine, Lammis, appears. Machine meets girl, and the story begins.
And well, that’s my concise summary. Did you like it?
Being a vending machine, the protagonist can’t move on his own, and he can’t have an actual conversation with anyone. Maybe he’s not a good main character. But I think the reason so many Let’s Become Novelists users received the story well was because he doesn’t give up; instead, he perseveres through desperate situations and manages to get through them.
I think—selfishly, perhaps—that this is a good book to recommend to people who are bored of protagonists who are really good-looking but claim they’re not popular with ladies. I personally think the protagonist looks really cool, but I doubt many people will agree there.
To change the topic completely, the way I first became an author was unique.
Until a few years ago, I helped out with my father’s independent business, living a fulfilling life, which, though we didn’t have much money, was always busy. But one day, my father died from a high fall, and I ended up inheriting the business.
In addition to the sudden managerial work hounding me every day, the sight of my father falling to the ground before my eyes, of a person dying in front of me, gave me acrophobia, and my work itself began to grow ever more painful. Our finances weren’t in a good state to begin with. But to add to that, the world had shown me how harsh it was, its ability to flip upside down on a whim, and it soon showed me how disgraceful people can act when money is involved. I remember my body and mind both weakening during that time.
Without any way to continue doing my job in such a state, I closed down the business before even half a year had passed. It took a year before all the remaining work and cleanup was finished—and when it was, I was left with a gaping hole in my heart. I was spending my life as an empty husk, when suddenly one day, I had a thought: I don’t know when I’m going to die like my father did. One question went through my mind: Have I done everything I’ve wanted to in life? Even with how much of a mess I was, I kept on searching for an answer to it.
While I was hanging out listlessly at home one day, for some reason I remembered all of a sudden that I’ve always liked reading books—so I began writing a novel.
It may have just been a form of escapism, thinking back on it. But I was creating stories while I was writing, and I started having fun putting letters to paper. Before I knew it, I was absorbed in creative activities.
I felt the desire swelling inside me to get people to read what I would write, and as I was thinking of ways to go about it, I hit upon a website called Let’s Become Novelists, a site for submitting novels.
A series of hardships followed. I submitted a novel where the protagonist was a hero who was warped to another world, and I had a grand idea in my mind that it was a satisfactory piece of work. However, only a handful people even ended up liking it.
I swung around to the opposite side of the spectrum after that, submitting an eccentric battle-themed novel containing some erotic elements set in the near future. That one, however, ended up even less liked than my first work.
At that point, I was on the verge of breaking down. But I decided I would give up only after I’d gone far enough to satisfy myself. I then gathered information on what kind of work would be well received before finally writing a new novel.
When I did, it was rated so much better that you couldn’t even compare it to the previous ones. It even climbed to the top of the daily rankings at one point. That novel seemed within reach of publishing—it just needed a little more. Unfortunately, several things got in the way, and it ended up being rejected. Nevertheless, the process of getting so far gave me confidence, so I pressed on, writing many different kinds of works. Serious stories where I pursued my own style, stories that were cheerful and fantastic. All of them saw a certain amount of appreciation, but none of them reached publication. Before I realized it, four years had passed since I’d started submitting novels.
That was when I set a goal for myself: If nobody came looking for publication before my birthday that year, I would give up writing novels. I’d caused trouble for those close to me at that point, so if that happened, I would pursue steadier options.
As my final work, I began writing a novel that didn’t require much in the way of thought, one that was fantastic and original, and one that I wanted to write. This is the work that became Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon. This wasn’t a novel where I adjusted for the readers’ needs, or had to think long and hard about constructing a plot. Instead, I pursued my own style for it, and it garnered the most popularity of all my work. That was how I learned how interesting this world can be, despite it not always going your way. Life really is unpredictable.
To wrap this up, I’d like to thank the many people involved with this novel.
Ituwa Kato, who provided the illustrations—I was shocked that characters I thought up could be so charming. Over and over, I found myself looking at them with a dumb grin on my face.
My editor, M., who acknowledged this work, and everyone in the Kadokawa Sneaker Bunko editing department—thanks to you, my dream of publication has come true.
S., who offered me advice and ideas; my mother, who I tried to keep this a secret from but told anyway; and the cute cats in my house—I’m grateful for you all.
Everyone else involved with this book—thank you from the bottom of my heart.
The last people I want to thank are my readers who came to like this story through Let’s Become Novelists. Let’s be friends in the future.
And to everyone who bought this book—thank you!
Dad, I know this doesn’t make up for letting your business fail, but this book is for you.
Hirukuma
