The Reward for the World's Strongest Explorer's Perfect Dungeon Conquest is apparently Marriage to me, who is known as an S-rank Fraud - Chapter 23

“I made the contract with Belgrim. That’s why I’m here.”

I delivered the scripted response as planned.

Araki and Eri nodded so vigorously that it was almost comical.

This felt like a parent-teacher observation day or something. It was embarrassing, really. It’s not like I deliberately seek controversy all the time.

“………”

The reporter seemed like he wanted to say something, but under the Prime Minister’s intense glare, he held his tongue.

He couldn’t say anything.

I grinned slightly. Whoops. I shouldn’t be enjoying this, but seeing the same reporters who normally trash-talk me go completely silent was too good to ignore.

“…Then, what exactly is the nature of this cooperation and contract?”

The next reporter picked up the questioning.

“Belgrim will assist in dungeon conquests. In exchange, I will provide him with the massive amount of mana he needs to operate on the surface.”

A simple, straightforward agreement.

“…And what is Mr. Belgrim’s purpose for operating on the surface?”

“That is—”

Just as I was about to answer, Belgrim raised a hand to stop me.

He wanted to speak for himself.

“Freedom. I seek freedom.

Think about it—if you were a monster, would you willingly sit around in a dungeon, just waiting for explorers to come and hunt you down? Killing adventurers doesn’t benefit us in any way. Sure, there are some monsters who enjoy battle for battle’s sake, but I am not one of them.

There’s no joy in killing humans I hold no grudge against, and frankly, I got sick of spending decades sitting in a dimly lit dungeon with nothing to do.

But look at me now—I’ve already discovered something amazing: cola.

There were no vending machines in the dungeon, you see.”

Belgrim deliberately hid the existence of celestial beings and demons, pretending to be harmless.

Some reporters even chuckled at the cola comment.

They were falling for it.

They were all falling for it.

“…I see. And how exactly did this contract come to be?”

“That was—ah, well…”

Just as I was about to answer, Shia raised her hand and stared directly at me.

She wanted to speak.

You too, huh?

“Hm. I was about to die, and Grigri saved me. He is my lifesaver.”

The reporters immediately began buzzing.

“What is she talking about?”
“Wait, is she saying The War Goddess Valkyrie was on the verge of death?”
“What floor was this?”
“What kind of monster almost killed her?”

Confusion and shock spread among them.

“100th floor. A gigantic rock dragon.

Its body was too tough—I couldn’t damage it.

Its breath attack covered a wide area, and I had to use all my mana just to block it.

I lost my return portal.

I couldn’t run.

I had accepted my death.

And then—”

Shia’s explanation was blunt and minimal, yet that only made it feel more real. The reporters gulped, waiting for her next words.

“Then Kuma appeared with Grigri. He picked me up, carried me to safety, and then—using Grigri’s power—he shattered the dragon in a single blow.

And after that, he came to me, pulled me into a passionate embrace, and kissed me. Over and over. So passionately.”

The room erupted.

Just minutes ago, they were on the verge of panic. Now, the atmosphere had completely shifted, tinged with excitement and something almost romantic.

“Right, Kuma?”

“…………”

Don’t drag me into this.

First of all, that wasn’t a kiss. It was CPR.

But if I corrected her now, it would just cause more controversy.

Why the hell would Shia say something like that—oh.

Wait.

I carefully observed her face.

There—her lips twitched slightly.

“…?”

She was messing with me.

This was a trap.

I wasn’t even interested in other women, but if I ever so much as looked at someone else, this story would lock me in place.

Shia met my gaze with an innocent expression.

Then, she moved her index finger.

She pointed—right at—

“Fweh?!”

Eri.

Oh god.

Her finger was aimed directly at Eri’s thighs.

Did she notice?

Did she know I accidentally got a glimpse of her panties earlier?!

“Wait, what’s happening?”
“Who is she pointing at?”
“That’s Takayama Eri, the ridiculously beautiful deputy director of the Dungeon Bureau!”
“Wait, is this some kind of love triangle with The Undying Nosferatu?!”

A love triangle?

No, no, that’s not what this is at all.

The reporters didn’t care if it derailed the press conference.

They just wanted a juicy story.

“…Anyway,” I cut in, forcing the conversation back on track. “Belgrim was on the 50th floor when he noticed Shia was in trouble.

He told me about it.

And he offered a deal—if I formed a contract with him, I could save her.

He’s quite the generous goblin, isn’t he?

In other words, he saved my fiancée.”

There.

That should settle things.

I refused to let this conference turn into some tabloid circus featuring Eri.

“…I see. So from that state, you continued all the way to the 150th floor and conquered it?”

Another reporter asked.

Before I could answer, Shia did.

“Kuma formed a contract with Grigri.

Then Kuma became the 150th floor boss.

He defeated himself, and we cleared the dungeon.”

I sighed.

Shia’s explanations had a special quality to them.

They drained people of the will to argue.

“So, really, Kuma is the one who completed the conquest.”

“Wait, is that right?”
“The War Goddess Valkyrie was saved by The Undying Nosferatu?”
“Does this mean he has some special power that lets him contract with dungeon bosses?”

All eyes were on me.

Unlike before, they weren’t glaring or trying to tear me down.

But there was still doubt in their eyes.

“…Then, Mr. Hayama, I have a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Previously, you declared that you would conquer a dungeon solo as a condition to marry The War Goddess Valkyrie.

Would you say that you have now achieved that?”

“Well, it was a bit of an irregular process, but… I’d say it counts.”

I guess.

“…Will the public accept that?”

Like I care.

I wanted to say that it wasn’t up to them.

But if I said that, Araki and Eri would scold me later.

So I searched for a neutral response.

“Marriage is a private matter. It doesn’t require public approval—”

BANG!

At that moment, the doors burst open—again.

The person who stepped in was none other than the troublesome journalist Araki had banned from the last press conference.

“Heh heh, pardon the interruption. But I do have an official pass to attend this government press conference.”

The troublesome journalist sauntered in, grinning like a cat that had just cornered a mouse.

“Mr. Hayama,” he continued, stretching out his words, “at the very least, wouldn’t you say that you need the approval and consent of Ms. Kusakabe’s parents? Surely, you’re aware that her father is the current Vice President of France—Pierre Martin. You wouldn’t tell me that you haven’t reached out to him at all… right?”

Araki immediately signaled the security team.

The journalist was grabbed by the guards, but he slipped past them, rushing forward until he was right in front of me, continuing his tirade.

Even with Belgrim standing right beside me, the guy had guts—or maybe he was just reckless.

“Or could it be… that you haven’t reached out to him at all? Because if that’s the case, that would be a huge problem, wouldn’t it?

You’re saying you’re going to marry his daughter—without even notifying the Vice President of France?

This could strain diplomatic relations and cause major international repercussions.

It could even damage Japan’s standing on the global stage!

So, tell us, Mr. Hayama—have you or have you not contacted Vice President Pierre Martin?”

Tch.

Annoying little bastard.

Of course, I had already—

…Wait.

Sh1t.

I forgot.

I completely forgot.

How the hell was I, a guy who had never even had a girlfriend before, supposed to realistically think about marriage?

Meeting the parents?

Yeah, that never even crossed my mind.

“…This is a private matter, so I will refrain from commenting.”

“Oh, but that’s not good enough,” the journalist pressed, his tone dripping with mock concern. “This isn’t just a private issue—”

“Enough.”

The Prime Minister intervened, his voice cold and firm.

Finally.

The press conference could get back on track.

Or so we thought.

“Prime Minister!” the journalist smirked. “Surely, you’re aware of the emergency press conference happening in France right now, aren’t you?”

Silence.

The Prime Minister’s expression stiffened.

He didn’t move.

Within moments, aides and government officials rushed to his side, whispering into his ear. Their expressions were grave.

That bastard.

“Well?” The journalist’s voice was thick with amusement. “The Vice President of France has just publicly stated that he has received zero communication from Mr. Hayama.

And guess what?

He’s pissed.

Really pissed.

Mr. Hayama, depending on how you handle this situation, you might find that simply retiring as an explorer isn’t nearly enough to take responsibility.”

His smug grin made him look worse than any goblin I’d ever seen.

And with that, his job done, he relaxed, flashing a self-satisfied smile as security finally dragged him out of the room.

The press conference hall was left in shambles.

The Prime Minister and Araki were now deep in urgent discussions, while the rest of the government officials scrambled to manage the fallout.

And just like that, once again—

The press conference was ruined.

Completely.

By him.