The Otherworlder, Exploring the Dungeon, Vol. 1 by Hinagi Asami and Kureta

Author:Hinagi Asami and Kureta
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Yen Press

[8TH DAY]

The situation was all too simple. By adventurer standards, I just didn’t have enough physical strength—not even close. I’d be hard put to cut even a chocho down with a longsword. You used completely different muscles to shoot a gun and to slash a sword, and I didn’t have the time to build that kind of strength now. That being the case, I had limited choices in terms of the weapons I could use.

“Hey, shopkeeper.”

“EEYYAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!”

I’d dropped by the main store of the Zavah Night Owl Trade Group to get something new to defend myself.

“Show me a few weapons.”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!” The shopkeeper’s knees buckled, and he scuttled back away from me. The relatively big store had about thirty people inside, staff included. Every single one of them stared at me.

Argh, now even more people are gonna gossip about me.

“I’m just here today to get a—”

“EAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“So you want me to go to the Ellomere Traders.”

“Pardon me, I was a little flustered. What may I help you with today?” He immediately snapped out of it and straightened himself out. I’d started to get the hang of how to deal with him.

“I’d like to see a crossbow. Do you have any in stock?”

“A crossbow, you say? We do indeed. Please, right this way.” He had the crossbows all lined up in a corner of the shop, in what one might call a dead space. “It’s not our most popular product among adventurers, you see. That is not to say, however, that we carry anything but the best quality.” I saw about twenty different varieties, each using slightly varying designs or created with different materials, all of them following the same basic construction.

“May I?” I asked.

“Please, be my guest.”

I picked up one of the crossbows and pulled the string back to allay my biggest concern. “Ngh, nghh, ungh!” I pulled with all my might, but the string wouldn’t budge.

“Master Souya, you’re meant to secure this with your foot and pull back with your legs,” he explained.

“I see.” The crossbow had a metal stirrup at the very front end of the stock. I stuck my foot in it and used my legs to pull—hard! “Grr, grah!” I couldn’t do it. “You sure this isn’t defective?”

“I do believe we’ve kept it properly maintained.”

I handed the crossbow to the shopkeeper. He put his foot in the stirrup and attempted to pull the string back, too, but failed as well. We tried two more the same way with the same result. We even tried pulling the string together, but it didn’t move an inch.

“Oaffet, Oaffet, you back there?” he yelled out to someone. An almost two-meter-tall beastman answered his call. His friendly face, droopy ears, and wagging tail felt out of sync with his enormous body. He was a dog, definitely a Saint Bernard. “Try pulling this back,” the shopkeeper ordered.

“Yah.” He put both hands on the string and drew it back with ease until it latched into the slot connected to the trigger. “You adventurer?” he asked me.

“Who, me? Yeah, sure am.

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