Otherworld TRPG Game Master
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Chapter 58 Table of contents

When you open your eyes, you find yourself in a dreary back alley at night.

 

Though the moon is clearly in the sky, the shadows are so thick that it’s difficult to distinguish objects. Disorderly and haphazardly constructed buildings and obstacles block the moonlight.

 

Looking up, dirty clothes are hung on clotheslines between buildings. The windows of the surrounding buildings are shattered or boarded up. Dirty water pools on the ground, and rats roam around.

 

It was a harsh environment.

 

Living in a place like this, you could easily figure out what would happen, even if you hadn’t experienced it, with enough observational skills─

 

The soil stuck to the asphalt floor in the moonlight, rolling bottles on the ground, someone’s broken tooth, and dried blood. Clear signs of violence. Probably looting.

 

The poor take the emaciated flesh of others just as poor as themselves and put it in their mouths. When one dies, another survives. If you chew on the smelly, tasteless lump of meat for a while, the stench fills your entire mouth.

 

And so, people quickly transformed into beasts.

 

Bennett was well aware of such a structure. Although the shape of the building was different, the damp smell of despair was the same everywhere. He grimaced and hid his gloomy thoughts.

 

“…Is this, a different world?”

 

As they disembarked, the two of them looked around absentmindedly and each made a remark.

 

“No significant… side effects, huh? I even prepared divine magic in case I got motion sickness.”

 

[It’s a creepy place.]

 

More than just creepy, beyond the wooden boards covering the windows, one could imagine vivid and honest nightmares growing.

 

Feeling the dramatic spectacle only by himself, Bennett idly played with the hilt of his sword. It seemed Tala and Niore had never lived in such a place before.

 

You have already learned about this world through the reports.

 

However, the feeling that could be touched with the skin, the gloomy air that could be felt when taking a breath, could not be conveyed through written words. It was difficult to imagine the feeling of stepping on gravel or the smell of decay.

 

There was a large gap between the world described in writing and reality. It was a gap that you, as readers, had to fill in the future.

 

Bennett took his first step beyond the gap.

 

He looked around and picked up a broken fang from the ground.

 

“Seeing the dried blood, it doesn’t seem like it just happened, but it seems that violence occurs frequently here. We need to get out of here.”

 

[But where should we go?]

 

From Noble mtl dot com

 

“You read the report, right? It said there’s a base prepared by the investigators. Let’s go there.”

 

Niora nodded vigorously at Bennett’s reasonable words. Everything was unfamiliar, and in this new world where they had achieved nothing, the contents of the report were the only beacon they could rely on.

 

Carter Street 201, Eastern Market, 2nd floor.

 

After Saint Tala roughly guessed the direction and was about to step forward confidently, Bennett raised his hand to stop her.

 

“…What is it?”

 

“There’s something urgent that needs to be resolved.”

 

[Did you happen to find someone suspicious…?]

 

Niora quickly looked around, even suspecting that there might be goblins hiding. Venet shook his head, gesturing towards the saint, Tala.

 

The saint’s expression froze.

 

“Me?”

 

“Your attire. Did you really think you could walk around like that?”

 

A bolt of lightning-like shock. Because she had become so accustomed to it, the saint, Tala, had completely forgotten about her fashion sense. She opened her eyes wide in surprise. Come to think of it, that was true.

 

Even if you put it in a positive light, walking around in revealing clothing would mostly attract attention for the wrong reasons. She felt embarrassed and lost her temper.

 

“It’s, it’s none of your business how others dress!”

 

“But you should know that it could put all of us in danger…”

 

[Well, you do show quite a bit of skin…]

 

“Fine, I get it!”

 

The first goal of the trio, who had been dropped into a strange world, was to find suitable clothes for Tala.

 

—–

 

Since they couldn’t walk around crowded places with the saint in her embarrassing attire, they had to come up with ways to find clothes nearby.

 

Venet suggested overpowering a peddler nearby to obtain clothes. Tala scolded him, asking how she could possibly wear a peddler’s clothes. But when someone cautiously pointed out, “Even if it’s the clothes of a poor person, they would still have more fabric than the saint’s clothes,” she fell silent.

 

Niora then made a suggestion. He proposed using the dirty cloths hanging above as a temporary cover. Tala made a face that clearly showed her disapproval.

 

However, fortunately, they discovered a better way to obtain clothes.

 

At the boundary between the slum and the outside, they found a facility where trash was sorted by type. Paper, plastic, food waste, and so on. And kindly enough, on one large green bin, the following was written:

 

“Clothing Collection Box.”

 

[It’s full of clothes here!]

 

“The condition seems quite good.”

 

“…Do I have to wear clothes that others have thrown away?”

 

Though hesitant, the saint reluctantly joined in rummaging through the clothing collection box, considering it better than wearing a beggar’s attire. The sight of the trio searching through clothes seemed rather comical.

 

Bennet picked up a green dress and remarked, “We need to set our goals.”

 

[Weren’t we looking for jewels?]

 

“That’s our ultimate goal. But we need to decide how to proceed here, what attitude to adopt. Preliminary investigation on the Twilight Sect is necessary. They seem to be the most threatening faction based on the information provided.”

 

The saint picked up a hat and replied. She was about to try it on because she liked the pretty ribbon, but upon finding someone’s hair tangled inside, she shuddered and quickly threw it away.

 

“Isn’t it too risky? I don’t want to get involved with fanatics and their ilk.”

 

“Isn’t that an ironic statement coming from you, Saint?”

 

“Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I’ll do it.”

 

[Oh, Saint. How about this?]

 

Thunk. Niore drew attention by tapping the whiteboard, then lifted up a piece of clothing with both hands. It was a black full-body tights made of a peculiar material.

 

“…Seriously? Wasn’t I told not to dress provocatively while rummaging through the trash?”

 

“That outfit might be better than you think. It looks spacious enough.”

 

“What are you even saying?”

 

When Tara gave Bennet a fierce glare, he averted his gaze. Especially since if he mentioned that the chest area seemed quite loose and could be worn comfortably, it might lead to a fight. Wisely, he decided to keep his mouth shut.

 

Click.

 

While Tarah was busy selecting appropriate clothes, a blinding light suddenly appeared. Cone-shaped beams of light illuminated the thieves rummaging through the clothing collection bin.

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

 

The three of them froze in place. Tarah, caught red-handed digging through the trash; Niole, startled; and Bennett, perhaps due to his instinctual powers.

 

Bennett gazed beyond the light. His eyes, accustomed to the darkness, were temporarily blinded by the sudden brightness, but… it appeared to be a person. If they were security guards, it wouldn’t be good news, and he would consider making a run for it.

 

Niole quickly wrote on the whiteboard.

 

[180cm, male, white-haired grandfather, fairly athletic but not trained in combat. Poor eyesight due to aging, appears to be an office worker. Not impoverished. Dresses modestly but seems to eat well.]

 

“So, you’re a walking scanning magic…?”

 

In response to the Saint’s praise, Niole chuckled awkwardly. Based on her information, Bennett lowered his guard by three levels.

 

The old man, too, finally opened his mouth after standing in silence for a while, as if his mind had frozen upon witnessing the trio rummaging through the trash in the middle of the night.

 

“Have you been robbed or something?”

 

“⋯⋯Yes?”

 

“The little girl and the young man over there are dressed just fine. The fabric is not cheap, and the designs are sophisticated. On the other hand, the big girl’s attire… seems like a mockery by a wicked robber. Such precision in cutting.”

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

 

Bennett’s lips slightly curled up and then dropped. Tarah, seeing that, choked back her tears and decided to stay quiet, fearing she might become even more upset.

 

The old man glanced at Tarah’s face, which had turned into a ripe apple of embarrassment, and his expression became somewhat nostalgic. He briefly lowered his head and coughed a few times.

 

“Young ones, seems like you’ve had an accident. If you’re okay with it, how about staying at our house for the night? My daughter happens to have clothes that would fit the big girl. I have a daughter, you see.”

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

 

An unexpected act of kindness. Bennett shook his head. Not a difficult target to subdue. According to Niole’s analysis, they couldn’t be certain if they were wealthy, but they weren’t poor either. In this situation…

 

[Thank you for your help!]

 

Niore approached the old man with a cheerful smile, bowing at a perfect 90-degree angle. Beneath his unfamiliar appearance, Bennett wanted to immediately impress upon that stubby head the need to be cautious with unidentified individuals.

 

“Well then, I shall be in your care, sir!”

 

The atmosphere tilted as even the saintly maiden, who had preferred to wear soft, fluffy clothes rather than the ones found in the trash, followed along nervously. Bennett took a deep breath and trailed behind the two.

 

The return seemed promising compared to the risk. Details not discernible in the reports could be uncovered with the help of locals. Moreover, the old man appeared entirely lacking in combat abilities.

 

If things go awry, a knife would suffice, Bennett thought.

 

The path to the old man’s house.

 

Niore wrote various questions on the whiteboard, while Tala read them aloud, interjecting and engaging in quite a conversation. The old man, named Abraham, lived in a mansion atop the hill, was an astronomer, and revealed having a daughter with whom relations were strained.

 

Abraham also happened to be a professor at Miskatonic University.

 

—–

 

“… Is the inside cleaner than expected?”

 

Contrary to Tala’s expectations, Abraham’s mansion was large, spacious, and immaculate. It wouldn’t be easy for an old man to maintain such a grand mansion in cleanliness. In response, Abraham lightly chuckled and said,

 

“I clean the visible areas daily in preparation for guests.”

 

[Impressive!]

 

“Cleanliness is a basic necessity.”

 

“… … …”

 

The interior of the mansion was modestly decorated. Firewood burned in the fireplace, and a hearth with a rocking chair was placed. Mounted deer heads adorned the walls.

 

There was no conspicuous extravagance. The mansion consisted of two floors, and the stairs were designed with short steps for the old man’s convenience.

 

Abraham chuckled beneath his bushy beard.

 

“The quiet house, where an old man lived alone, is now lively with guests. Don’t feel burdened; feel free to stay comfortably. The guest room hasn’t been cleaned, so… feel free to use that one over there.”

 

At the door pointed out by the old man, the name “Isaak” was written.

 

“Is this my daughter’s room?”

 

“Yes. It seems unlikely I’ll get to see her face again this year, so feel free to stay comfortably. A room only gains meaning when someone inhabits it.”

 

Tara nodded silently, opened Isaak’s door, and entered. Neore followed closely behind, and finally, Bennet…

 

“Just a moment, why are you coming in?”

 

“…Do I absolutely have to talk about the possibility of an attack and the importance of concentration?”

 

“Still not the case. Even if Neore is fine because she’s a girl, who knows if you harbor sinister intentions?”

 

“……”

 

Though he did harbor them, not that kind of sinister intentions. Bennet pressed his furrowed brow with his thumb, showing patience. Then, he organized his thoughts.

 

Well, even if something happens, it’ll be an urgent return, so there shouldn’t be an issue with life. Even if we lose the human detector Neore, it’s regrettable, but losing the saint isn’t. Whatever happens, it’s not my concern…

 

“If something happens, at least scream or something.”

 

“Sure, you scream too if you’re in a hurry.”

 

Bennet closed the door with a bang and left.

 

—–

 

“Uh huh huh, huh huh.”

 

While the saint Tara sang a nasal tune and plundered the wardrobe, Neore cautiously observed her surroundings. The room where the person named Isaak, the daughter of Abraham, lived. Traces of someone were scattered everywhere.

 

Observing the size of the bed, the degree of depression in the springs could estimate the approximate body shape and weight. Pressing. Pressing the bed with hands to check the tension of the springs, an estimated weight of around 50kg. A slender physique.

 

Smell. Nothing particularly distinctive.

 

Cleanliness. It seemed like Abraham was maintaining it diligently every day. On the dust-free floor, the devoted heart of an old man waiting for his daughter could be felt.

 

Bookshelf. The bookshelf is crucial as it can provide insight into a person based on the types of books stored.

 

The astronomy-related books accounted for about 70%, and occult-related books dealing with magic and demons accounted for about 30%. Judging by the position and height of the books, Mr. Isarak might be around 170cm tall, Nieore speculated.

 

There was a particularly worn book with fingerprints, so Nieore briefly opened it.

 

Thinking it was a book due to its binding, it turned out to be a diary. As it is impolite to examine someone else’s diary, Nieore promptly closed it.

 

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

 

However, a picture that had fleetingly caught his eye strangely lingered in his mind. A father and daughter looking through a telescope together. And, somewhere pitch-black, a few round soap bubbles drawn. An inexplicable drawing⋯⋯.

 

What was even more unforgettable was the peculiar sensation. Clearly, it was Nieore himself looking into the picture, yet─ a nonsensical story, but it felt like the picture was looking back at him.

 

 

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