The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 60
Chapter 60: The fat aristocrat steps into a new hierarchy
They descended the stairs leading to the 11th basement floor.
The staircase passage was dimly lit, with some places beyond the reach of lanterns hanging on the walls. The staircase, which zigzagged down, made it impossible to perceive the sense of time or distance clearly.
Although the shape of the staircase was the same on each floor, this one was evidently longer than the ones before. As they descended deeper into the suffocating darkness, Mitrof suddenly realized that the view in front of him had gotten brighter.
Red light.
‘No, that can’t be.’ Mitrof furrowed his eyebrows. This is underground; it’s impossible.
Still, the closer they got, the brighter the light became. Mitrof was not used to such brightness after being accustomed to the labyrinth’s darkness. He shielded his eyes with his palm as he slowly moved forward.
Mitrof heard a clamor. People’s voices and noisy sounds symbolized human life.
They passed through the gate that opened in the wall at the end of the staircase.
Suddenly.
“…What is this place?”
Squinting his eyes in the brightness, Mitrof doubted whether this vision he saw was real or just a dream.
It was a vast…too vast—space. Despite being underground, the ceiling was high, and it was bright. The flames of lanterns didn’t light it. The room was tinted with a deep red light.
The fact that there was light in this underground area perplexed Mitrof. He looked around in all directions, and adventurers passed by in front of him. There were many people there.
It was like a street market on the surface world, with open-air stalls and adventurers casually shopping.
If he looked into the distance, he could see that the walls surrounded them on all sides. However, makeshift houses lined up along the walls. They seemed to include shops such as inns, restaurants, and weapon stores that adventurers needed.
“…so there is a city in the basement of the labyrinth.”
“Why is it so bright…it’s like just before sunset.”
Mitrof and Canule both stared in amazement at the sight. Under the dark and lengthy tunnel, a city of civilization that surpassed their expectations was built. It was like seeing a daytime dream.
“Hey.”
As they turned towards the call, a man in light armor beckoned to them. He was a guild guard, and behind him was a two-story building.
“You guys are featherless, right?—First, you need to complete the procedures here.”
As they were told, the two went straight to the building. Inside, the scene was similar to a guild on the surface. There was a counter, waiting chairs, and a receptionist sitting behind it.
The space and staff were, of course, smaller in scale. But there was an atmosphere that was no different from the surface. There was something like the smell of human life.
Still confused, they approached the counter. The receptionist, wearing the same uniform as the one on the surface, smiled at Mitrof and his company.
“How may I help you?”
“Ah, um…we want to receive the ‘feather’.”
“It’s your first visit, congratulations—welcome to the third level—can you please provide us with your guild card?”
Mitrof searched his pocket and handed over the silver guild card.
“I will take care of it—here, we will stamp the date and ‘wing emblem’ on your card as proof of your arrival.”
The receptionist inserted the card into a machine that looked like an industrial lathe next to the counter. She pulled down the handle, and a thick metal plate snapped into place.
The guild card, which Mitrof had been handed back with the words “here you go,” did have a date on it, as well as an additional design element resembling a feather-like design standing vertically.
Feeling bewildered by its unremarkable nature, Mitrof asked the receptionist.
“Sorry to bother you—you’ve probably been asked this a hundred times, but why is it so bright in here?”
The receptionist answered with an unwavering smile, reciting the same answer she must have given hundreds of times before.
“‘Labyrinth Moss’ grows abundantly in this floor. It emits a constant red glow, allowing us to move around without carrying lanterns.”
“I see.”
And Mitrof remained silent.
“Well——it’s very convenient.”
“Yes, it’s extremely convenient.”
Even with such a dull response, the receptionist’s smile did not waver.
Mitrof’s thoughts were still in disarray. He seemed to understand that he had not caught up with the shock of the city that appeared in the labyrinth and the sunset’s light.
For the time being, Mitrof thanked the receptionist and left the building with Canule.
They stood in front of the guild, gazing at the straight and stretching cityscape of dusk. It was a scene that seemed to have been brought directly from a section of the marketplace on the ground.
“I wonder how they built a city in the labyrinth?”
“We brought it here, with the great elevator.”
Unexpectedly, a response came to Mitrof’s murmurs. It was from the guild guard who had spoken to him earlier. He leaned against the wall, smoking a rolled-up cigarette.
As Mitrof and Canule’s gaze turned towards him, the man exhaled white smoke, looking bored. Mitrof could tell that the pungent smell coming from his nose was from cheaply rolled leaves.
“Don’t we need a base to advance?—The guild is investing money, effort, and personnel to establish a foothold in the labyrinth.”
Foothold. That word made Mitrof feel uneasy. A foothold?
“If you’ve managed to come down here, you must know about the vertical hole and the great elevator—thanks to those, you see.”
The guard took the end of the cigarette with his fingers and circled it around the city that lay ahead.
“Even in the middle of the underground tunnel, we can resupply—be grateful.”
“…But are you going to charge us?”
The guard laughed lightly.
“Of course. It’s about 30% more than the surface. Isn’t that fair?—Well, the deeper you go, the higher the price gets—but here you can eat, wash, sleep in a bed, and equip yourself—that’s why adventurers don’t complain and pay the money.”
The guard deeply inhaled his cigarette. The smoke he exhaled with his chin lifted dissipated into the ceiling, tinted with a crimson mottled pattern, even without any wind.
“Welcome, newcomers. I welcome you. From here on, it’s the third level, ‘Apelo.’ Stay alive as long as possible and spend your money.”