Living in a Dungeon in Modern Japan! An Overpowered Life with a Useless Skill - Episode 13

Episode 13

The topic was about those who currently possess high magic power values.

At present, magic power is useful in two main ways: outside the dungeon, it can be used to recharge magic stones with energy; inside the dungeon, it increases the number of times one can use skills and magic. However, society in general views high magic power as something that can still be substituted or replaced.

Being able to refuel a generator alone is certainly impressive. But even a group of people with low magic power can manage that.

As for the usage of skills within the dungeon, while being able to use them more times is an advantage, it’s not something that can’t be replaced.

That’s the current situation—yet, for her, a certain problem had been brought to her attention.

“I heard that among the scrolls that were discovered, there are some that can only be used by people with high magic power. Because of that, the value of high magic power users is being reevaluated globally.”

I had never heard of that before. But I understood—it must be information not yet released to the general public.

“That’s right, only a limited group knows about it right now. One such scroll was discovered. It could only be used by someone with a magic power level of B or higher. And well, that tells you where this is going, right?”

In the future, scrolls that require even A-rank magic power may be discovered. Depending on the skills they contain, the value of high magic power users could skyrocket.

“By the way, that skill was called Super Recovery. As long as you’re not dead, it can heal any wound or illness by consuming magic power. Just hearing that should give you a sense of how powerful these restricted skills are.”

Just hearing about it made it clear how absurdly powerful the skill was. In other words, restricted skills likely tend to be extremely useful.

“First of all, do you understand that the government is encouraging dungeon exploration?”

“Yes, I understand that from the support they give to explorers.”

The level of support explorers receive from the government is substantial. Becoming an explorer means you can probably live comfortably without lacking anything. Today I also learned that the number of homeless people significantly decreased after dungeons started appearing—and that’s likely the reason why.

The question, then, is: why hasn’t this policy spread among the public?

Although I hadn’t done much research about dungeons, I learned that this kind of information hasn’t reached the general public. Most regular people don’t even know this kind of support exists.

“Even if the government encourages it, people can still die in dungeons. In a sense, they’d be sending citizens into dangerous zones. That’s why, while they do provide support, they can’t openly advertise dungeon exploration as a national campaign.”

That answer made perfect sense. Dungeons are essentially lawless zones where the law doesn’t apply. If someone gets injured or dies, it’s their own responsibility. If the government pushed people into such places, there would surely be public backlash.

So, instead, they allow people who *want* to go to do their own research and find out about the support system themselves—that’s the most the government can do.

“Why does the government encourage dungeon exploration? Well, you should understand that when you consider the usefulness of dungeons, right?”

Both of us nodded in response to that question.

Humanity is already heavily reliant on dungeon resources. And of course, it’s understandable: unlimited clean energy, not tied to anyone’s land, and it can be supplied domestically.

That’s not the only thing dungeons provide. In some areas, there are already reports of monsters dropping food items.

For a country like Japan with a low food self-sufficiency rate, the potential benefits are enormous.

“People with high magic power are being encouraged on-site to become dungeon explorers. Of course, they have the right to refuse—it’s not mandatory. But in her case, it’s a bit different.”

That’s because she’s one of only two people in Japan with A-rank magic power.

“There’s only one other person in Japan with the same magic power value as you. But they’re quite elderly and couldn’t become an explorer. But you’re still young. And to add to that, your unique skill is another reason we want you to become an explorer.”

“Should I leave the room for this part?”

It was a sensitive topic—unique skills are considered private, delicate information—so I offered to step out.

“No, Akatsuki-san, please stay. Honestly, I feel safer with you here.”

Satsuki said that and grabbed my sleeve.

“Since Kobayashi-san is okay with it, I’ll explain. For your peace of mind, only I and Chief Hikawa know about your unique skill. Your unique skill, [Wisdom], is an ultra-rare ability never seen before. Its performance is clearly off the charts. And the fact that it can only be controlled with your level of magic power means its potential is immeasurable. That’s why, from the nation’s perspective, we want you to become an explorer.”

Hearing that, Satsuki became deep in thought.

Asking a high school senior to become an explorer—a job that carries life-threatening risks—is a heavy decision. But there was one thing that had been bothering me.

“Have you talked to your parents about this?”

I was concerned that her parents weren’t present in this situation. When asked, Satsuki answered hesitantly.

“Ah… um, my parents died in the disaster three years ago.”

That was her answer.

I was also a victim of that disaster. In fact, there were probably very few people in Japan who weren’t affected by it in some way. Everyone had suffered, to greater or lesser degrees.

Satsuki had no one to consult.

That’s probably why she wanted even a stranger she had just met today—me—to hear her out.

“I’m sorry… I asked something I shouldn’t have.”

I bowed my head to her.

“No… it’s okay. That disaster three years ago affected everyone around the world…”

Probably very few people on Earth escaped its effects. Even Hiyori, standing nearby, had a pained expression. She clearly remembered something.

A brief silence passed.

Then—

“I’ll become an explorer.”

Satsuki declared, as if to break through the silence.