Buying a dungeon is simple.
At some point, as dungeons began to appear in this world, an institution called the ‘Dungeon Management Agency’ was established. If you send a letter expressing your intention to purchase a dungeon there, the Dungeon Management Agency will gladly send you a catalog and a list.
‘That's how they make their money -- selling dungeons.’
The list is a reservation list for dungeon purchases, created to facilitate transfers between buyers if they have difficulty purchasing a dungeon due to their circumstances or if they want a specific dungeon.
Usually, the transfer process is carried out after exchanging intentions through letters.
‘Pretty aristocratic, huh?’
Kinemia chuckled and flipped through the catalog. She had already picked out a few jackpot dungeons, so this was enough, but human greed is endless.
‘Ah, this one!’
Kinemia discovered a dungeon, and her eyes lit up. This dungeon doesn't have any magic stones.
‘But it has mithril!’
After the first dungeons were cleared, new dungeons started having better loot.
Like this mithril!
There wouldn't be much, but it would be enough for a sword or two.
In the original story, the first sword the protagonist made was also made of this mithril.
Kinemia looked at the reservation list.
As Kinemia’s eyes quickly scanned down the list from the top, a very familiar name caught her eye.
[Duron Hab]
“……Duron?”
Oh, come on... seriously?
Kinemia jumped up, rubbed her eyes, splashed some water on her face, and then sat back down.
[Duron Hab]
‘…….’
Why him?! Of all people! Kinemia covered her cheeks with both hands and thought about Count Duron Hab.
Duron Hab:
Grudge: ********* (9/10)
Danger: ******* (7/10)
Reason: Kinemia's grandpa (the old regent) offed Duron's great-uncle!
‘Seriously? There are tons of nobles in the Empire! Why Duron Hab of all people?’
However, Count Duron Hab was the only big shot going all-in on these unclaimed dungeons.
“…….”
Let's not poke the sleeping dog. Thinking so, Kinemia touched the dungeon in the catalog with eyes full of regret.
‘Ugh, that sweet, sweet mithril…….’
‘My mithril…….’
In Kinemia’s mind, she already owned the mithril, and Count Duron Hab was a dirty thief who had stolen it.
‘No, wait…….’
This was just Kinemia's guess, really. And she hadn't even heard for sure that Count Duron Hab was the culprit behind the magic stone price increase.
In fact, you wouldn’t know what the person himself thought of Kinemia without actually talking to him.
‘That’s right.’
After talking herself into it, Kinemia immediately took out some stationery and carefully wrote a letter.
One letter was to the Dungeon Management Agency to buy the dungeon.
The other was to Count Duron Hab.
[To the oh-so-reasonable Count Duron Hab,
I'm sorry I haven't checked in on you lately. I bet the persimmon blossoms are looking gorgeous in your lands right about now.
[...]
The reason I am writing to you today is because I found your name while looking through the reservation list to purchase a dungeon. I noticed you only reserved the dungeon... Does that mean you're not really planning on buying it?
If that's the case, I'm just going to come out and ask: Could you let me have it?
I'll make it worth your while.]
Although she wrote at length, the gist was this.
‘Might as well see how he feels about me, while I'm at it.’
Kinemia dripped candle wax on the letter envelope and then stamped the seal down hard.
And the next day arrived.
“A letter has arrived from the Count.”
Nanny Vanessa, beaming, handed over the letter. When she opened it, this reply was written:
[Your grandfather killed my great-uncle. So much for reason and rationality.]
It was even written in blood.
“Waaaaah!”
Kinemia buried her face in her hands.
Yeah, right! Like that was ever going to happen!
But she did not give in. Kinemia was shameless and had an iron will.
Three attempts are a charm, right?
A 9/10 star grudge isn't going away with one measly letter.
Yes, happiness comes after hardship.
Kinemia, muttering ‘three times, three times,’ wrote a long letter again.
The gist was this:
[Regarding that matter, my grandfather is definitely looking down from heaven feeling awful about that. And I'm really sorry about it, too.
As a sign of apology, I am thinking of putting up a memorial and paying my respects, and I am willing to make sure his family is taken care of.]
Kinemia dabbed away tears, gently pressed the seal, and sent the letter again.
‘Three times. Three times.’
Then, the next day, a reply arrived from the Count.
[You can apologize to me in hell. Your grandpa's waiting for you.
Once you arrive, your whole family will meet in hell.]
It was blood writing again.
Sighing...
‘This guy's going to run out of blood at this rate,’ Kinemia thought, grabbing some paper.
[When Grandpa got rid of those nobles, he had a good reason. Wasn't your great-uncle messing with the Imperial family and bleeding the locals dry?
It's not my family in hell; it's your great-uncle. I can practically hear the thwack of the villagers' pickaxes bouncing off your great-uncle's head down in hell.
Thunk! Thunk!
Wait, is that the sound of rocks?
Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!]
Bang!
Kinemia smiled and stamped the seal on the envelope. The Lion’s crest shone eerily on the bright red candle wax.
Who said anything about three tries? The second someone starts dissing my family, all bets are off.
Then, the next day, Count Duron replied like this:
[You (bleep) (bleep---)(bleep-----) like (bleep)]
Kinemia smiled and wrote a reply again.
[Wow, real original.
I'd be happy to plaster your little letter all over the capital, and I think there will be a lot of people pissed off that you sent that kind of trash to a 12-year-old.
Thank you for giving me an excuse. Ah, that was just me talking to myself.]
The next day, Count Duron replied:
[I think I owe you a small apology. I think a cat wrote the last letter.]
‘A cat? Seriously? Was his brain about to reboot and then short-circuited?’
Kinemia wrote again in an adult-like and calm manner.
[What cat? You're 32 years old and acting like a total fool. I'm never going to grow up to be like you.
Look, I'm done with this. Just give me the dungeon.]
Count Duron replied:
[And you're a 12-year-old trying to get into gambling? You're a little brat.]
Kinemia silently folded the letter. Then, on a new piece of stationery, she sketched a picture of a bald head.
[That head of yours is what's brazen. Now quit messing around and give me the dungeon.
I know you've been abusing slaves, pretending it's all part of clearing dungeons. You jerk.
Word is you're shoving slaves into dungeons instead of hiring guilds or mercenaries because you're too cheap?
You do know there's a law against slave abuse, right? There's a whole bunch of slaves who've suffered because of you. I can't wait to see how much of your fortune ends up in the Imperial treasury.
Have you saved up a lot of money for this day?]
When writing the last sentence, she even used red ink. Wasting blood on him is a waste.
Kinemia dripped bright red candle wax and stamped the seal with a bang.
So, what's Count Duron going to pick: a massive fine, or giving up a dungeon that might not even have any magic stones?
‘The answer is obvious.’
The next day, Kinemia received a letter from the Dungeon Management Agency. It said Count Duron had signed the dungeon over to her.
