§053 Report 11/28 (Wed)

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“Tolling bells?”

The man selling pork skewers on the eighth floor repeated his question to a thin, but muscular, man who had just ascended back up from the floor beneath.

“Yeah, it looks like that’s what the folks who camped at the stairs leading down from the ninth floor after missing their chance to return to the eighth floor, have heard.”

“What’s up with that? Some moron going haywire?”

The thin man gnawed on his skewer while smiling bitterly.

“They were apparently trying to get back to the eight floor, but couldn’t make it before evening, and so they hunkered down at the stairs to the tenth floor as a last resort.”

The chance to encounter colonial worms rises at night on the ninth floor, but as the area around the stairs is relatively safe, it’s possible to run away to the stairs if you end up encountering the worms.

“It appears that the sun was set to go down soon around the time they arrived at the stairs, but I hear the area was in kind of an uproar.”

“Uproar? At night? There shouldn’t have been any people in that area, though.”

“You see, they say these folks, that seemed to belong to the militaries of various countries, pitched several camps while keeping their distance from each other.”

“Military? Why?”

“No clue. The JSDF isn’t so bad, but when it comes to the armies of other countries, you never know what might happen. People wouldn’t want to get involved with that, right? Having said that, it’s dangerous to stay too far from the stairs area, too. It seems those guys reluctantly camped halfway down the stairs to the tenth floor.”

“Doing it like that sounds like it’d get them dragged into troubles all the more, though.”

After all, they’d have no place to run away.

“If you separate from the stairs on the ninth floor, you won’t know when you might encounter colonial worms, correct? Especially after the sun has set. Besides, if you pitch your tents close to military folks, you gotta stay on guard, no matter what. That would really suck, no? In the first place, I can’t believe that there’s anyone who’d try to come or go to or from the tenth floor at night.”

Well, I can understand their feelings, I suppose, the pork skewer seller assessed. It’s questionable whether you can take a proper rest there, though.

“So, according to those guys, the guys on watch faintly heard bells tolling just when the date was rolling over, I hear.” Saying so, he put the second piece of hot meat into his mouth. “It seems to have come from the tenth floor, so the guys apparently went down the stairs, having their interest piqued as to what might have happened.”

“It’s the perfect example of curiosity killing the cat.”

The man swallowed down the meat, and laughed while saying, “No kidding.”

“So, when they timidly sneaked a look at the tenth floor, bells like you’d find on church spires were loudly ringing from the opposite direction of the stairs to the 11th floor.”

“There was something like a church on the tenth floor? I thought it was full of gravesites…”

“I’ve never heard of it either. Anyway, the guys apparently thought that some special event might be going on, but…”

“Hmm, I can understand their feelings.”

Anyone walking through the tenth floor after sunset, even if they’ve got the adaption potion, is crazy. I think that’s the commonly shared opinion among all explorers.

“Meanwhile, the bell sounds vanished as if they had suddenly stopped.”

“Didn’t they simply finish ringing?”

“It looks like there were no lingering reverberations.”

“Hmm. It’d be great if some treasure came out of it as well.”

“It was just a sound, wasn’t it?”

The man said with a laugh, tossed the skewer into a bucket serving as a replacement for a trash can, and left.

“Military folks that put up their camps at the ninth floor’s exit, eh…?”

It’s probably the result of the various scout teams chasing the targets in question, but in that case, just where did the missing targets go? Don’t tell me, the tenth floor at night?

While thinking about the relation between the tolling church bells and <Different World Language Comprehension>, the man, who worked for the guard division, took out a new pork skewer, and started to roast it.




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