Living in a Dungeon in Modern Japan! An Overpowered Life with a Useless Skill - Episode 3

Episode 3

Explorer Registration Centers exist all across Japan. These facilities conduct the necessary orientation and practical training for obtaining explorer certification. They’re often located next to city halls.

Since this was my third time, I was already used to the process and headed straight to the reception desk.

“Here for a retake. Nice to meet you,”

I said, handing over the documents.

“Understood. We’ll call you by your number. So please hold onto this and wait.”

The number I received was 2. It seemed someone else was ahead of me. Looking around, I noticed a young girl sitting nervously.

(She looks like a first-timer… Well, it’s only natural, since this could decide the course of your life. I get it.)

Normally I wouldn’t talk to strangers. But maybe because I was now jobless and more free, I felt like striking up a conversation.

“First time taking the test?”

“Ah, yes… it is.”

Surprised by my voice, she replied a bit flustered. I sat beside her in sync with her answer.

“First time’s always nerve-wracking, huh? Oh, just so you know, I’m not hitting on you or anything. You looked nervous. So I figured I’d speak up as someone with experience.”

“Ah, I see. I was supposed to take it with some friends, but they got sick. So I ended up coming alone… Wait, ‘experienced’?”

It seemed she just realized what I said and reacted to the word “experienced.”

“Yeah, I’m one of the unlucky ones with no magic. This is my third time. It’s rough. But hey, I’m still alive even without magic. So try to take it easy. I mean, it’s not like that 1-in-100 thing hits everyone.”

“Ah, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m used to it. Besides, look — the 1-in-100 is sitting right here. That means *you’re* probably gonna be fine. Go in there relaxed.”

Just then, number 1 was called.

The girl stood up in surprise.

“Go on,”

I said, giving her a gentle pat on the back.

As she walked toward the reception desk, she turned back.

“Thank you! I feel a little calmer now.”

She bowed and walked in.

She didn’t return, even after a bit of waiting.

“…Looks like she passed.”

That’s right — if you have magic, you don’t come back to this room. Only those without magic return.

Having encouraged her, I would’ve felt awkward if she turned out to be magicless too — so in a way, I was relieved.

Soon after, number 2 was called. It felt like it had taken longer than expected.

There was a small part of me that dared to hope… but setting your expectations too high only made failure more painful. A moderate mindset was best.

Magic power was measured using a special type of magic stone called a detection stone — it glows in response to the user’s magical energy. If you have no magic, it doesn’t light up.

Also, people who *do* have magic but haven’t taken the test yet will show the same result as magicless when they touch it. Apparently, the stone first needs to be “synchronized” with you to recognize your magical energy. If you don’t have magic, even if the stone is filled with power, it just flows through you and has no effect.

Inside the room, three examiners waited. One of them said:

“Please, place your hand on the stone.”

The stone looked like a crystal ball used by fortune-tellers. It was tightly secured to prevent tampering or theft.

I had been through this before. But the examiner was giving the same standard instructions. Still, it was unusual to have three of them present. Normally there was only one.

I reached out and touched the detection stone for the third time.

It wouldn’t glow — or so I thought…

But the stone lit up.

That was something that never happened to someone without magic.

“Eh!? This is…?”

“Oh wow. It’s rare for someone to light up during a retake. Magic level is E. Please proceed to the room in the back.”

E was the lowest possible rank for magical power — but it was a world apart from having none at all. Because as long as you had magic, you could enter dungeons and work with magic stones. That alone set you apart entirely from the magicless.

There were fewer than 100 known cases in the world where someone passed the retake after previously having no magic. In Japan, only three.

I had just become the fourth.

Having never been shown to the back room before, my earlier calm completely vanished. I walked through the door feeling like a starry-eyed tourist.

Inside, I found the same girl from before. Noticing me, she approached.

“Ah! You passed too! That’s great!”

She looked genuinely happy. The worried expression from before was replaced by a beaming smile.

“Yeah… I really didn’t think I would. Now I’m freaking out. My nerves are killing me…”

My confident “big brother” act from earlier was gone. I regretted trying to act like a veteran.

“You’ll be fine. From here on, it’s just the skill assessment. Nothing to be too nervous about.”

That’s right — once you made it here, the license was practically yours.

All that remained was the unique skill check.

Unique skills were special abilities given to those with magical power.

They ranged widely — from combat-related to production-based, even magic-type abilities. Each person’s skill was different.

Normal skills could be learned later. But unique skills often had special effects. Many people chose their future paths based on them.

That’s why most people applied for the exam as soon as they turned 18. From January to March, examinees flood the centers. But after April, the numbers drop sharply.

If you got a production skill, you could take a job in that field. Combat skills? Into the dungeon you go.

But even among those with combat skills, not everyone becomes an explorer. That’s because dungeons aren’t just filled with valuable items like magic stones — they’re full of monsters.

Monsters always attack people who enter dungeons. They come in all shapes and sizes — from wolves to slime-like creatures from games. Some say there are even dragons deep inside.

It’s not easy for ordinary people to fight them. And many who get combat skills still avoid dungeon diving.

On the other hand, those who do choose to dive can earn big — these are the ones truly known as professional explorers.

Back to the point — your unique skill can influence your life path. But it doesn’t bind you to anything.

It just shows your potential — how you use it is up to you.

In that sense, the skill appraisal here wasn’t something to stress too much about.

…Of course, for those dreaming of dungeon riches, the skill they received here could make or break their future earnings.

But me…

Having spent my life as someone with no magic, I never thought it would ever apply to me.