Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Bottom Farm (2)

#06

“···Bran. You’re volunteering for the Bottom Farm?”

“Yes.”

Bran nodded.

Perhaps because he worked hard, the Overseer surprisingly remembered his name.

Scanning him up and down, the Overseer waved his hand as if annoyed.

“Get lost. It’s not a place a kid goes. You won’t last a day.”

“I want to volunteer.”

“I said get lost already!”

The Overseer’s face contorted.

A rough hand slapped Bran’s cheek.

Slap!

With a loud sound, his head was thrown back.

“Where the hell did you hear about this that you’re making a fuss about volunteering for the Bottom Farm! And you dare talk back, do you also want your head smashed and die?!”

“Gack!”

The Overseer who stood up abruptly grabbed Bran by the collar.

His feet left the ground. The stretched clothes choked his neck like a gallows.

At the reaction almost as expected, Bran sighed inwardly.

‘I knew I’d get hit.’

The personnel working at the Bottom Farm were limited to robust adults.

The reason he had forcibly volunteered was because there was no chance he would be selected by ordinary methods.

Anyway, getting hit is more manageable than expected.

Just as Bran, having failed the frontal breakthrough, was about to move to the next plan.

“What’s wrong with it? Do as he wishes.”

A soft woman’s voice came from behind.

Goosebumps rose along the nape of his neck.

The calm tone was familiar to the ear.

It was a voice he had heard when playing Return Road before falling into this world.

“C-Captain? What brings you here···!”

“Just passing by. I came because I heard a loud noise.”

The Overseer’s eyes widened.

Crash! When the strength left the hand gripping the collar, Bran sprawled on the ground.

Turning his head, a woman looking down at him came into view.

“Quite an admirable slave. Volunteering to enter hell of his own accord.”

It was a woman with a sharp impression.

The contrast between the black attire and white skin was vivid.

She was wearing flashy accessories on her neck, arms, and both ears, and Bran knew that just selling all of those could buy a decent house in the capital.

‘Yikes, this isn’t the time.’

It was so identical to what he had seen in the game that he lost his composure.

Hurriedly getting up, Bran knelt on one knee.

“This lowly slave greets the Black Feather.”

“Oh my. You even know how to do this? You’ve been trained well.”

The woman covered her mouth and smiled with her eyes.

Even the aspect of valuing etiquette despite being a mere bandit was exactly as in the game.

The Overseer was politely bowing his head with his hands behind his back.

A reasonable reaction.

Because she was the ruler of this Blackstone Fortress.

“It is an honor. Great thief.”

The woman’s name was Spera.

A great thief with the epithet Black Feather, and the boss of the Crow Bandit Group.

“Huhu, you may stand.”

Bran slowly raised his body.

Surprisingly her height was on the smaller side so their eye levels matched.

Even so, he didn’t find it funny.

In the game Spera’s level was a whopping 5!

Compared to his current self who was obviously level 1, she was a powerhouse with the difference between a larva and a wolf.

Scanning Bran up and down, Spera rounded her lips and admired.

“Oh my, your face is cute too? I think you’re the most handsome among the people in this fortress?”

“···Thank you.”

Bran lowered his head.

He had received praise in an unexpected area.

Am I handsome? Looking back, he had no memory of properly checking his face since coming here.

Then, Spera who approached lightly placed a hand on Bran’s shoulder.

“You. Your name is Bran, right?”

“Yes.”

“Looking closely your body is solid too··· want to work in my bedroom instead of the Bottom Farm?”

“Det.”

Bran froze.

It was an unexpected proposal.

He had cleared Blackstone Fortress with over ten characters but had never experienced a situation like this.

At some point the hand that had come down was lewdly stroking his chest.

‘Crazy woman!’

Bran was horrified.

How many years older is she to be making advances.

Of course this was not bad in its own way, but the timing was not appropriate now.

‘This is bad. I need to go to the Bottom Farm.’

It was the greatest crisis since possessing the Nameless Hero.

The moment he was dragged to Spera’s bedroom, all the plans he had set up so far would turn to foam.

A situation where he had to refuse no matter what.

The given choices were roughly two.

1. It is an honor, madam! The strong stud of Blackstone, that is me, Bran!

2. I’m sorry but I don’t think I can meet your expectations. The truth is··· I like men.

Both are shit, fuck.

While Bran, unable to decide, was only sweating cold sweat.

“Ahaha, look at that expression!”

“···?”

Suddenly Spera burst into a coquettish laugh.

The hand that had come down to the navel was removed.

“It’s a joke. I’m not interested in kids. If you were five years older I might, but. Sorry if you expected it.”

“···I see.”

Bran felt the sensation of his liver returning to its place.

Even five years older would be in the realm of crime, but anyway it was fortunate.

Spera said.

“I’m going. Send this one to the Bottom Farm as he wished.”

“Yes. I’ll put him in today.”

“Good. Before that, just a moment···.”

It was then.

Suddenly Spera who lowered her body whispered in Bran’s ear.

“But kid. Your insides are too transparent.”

“I didn’t hear correctly?”

“The reason you volunteered for the Bottom Farm. Did you think I wouldn’t know?”

Unlike before, it was a voice with no laughter at all.

Bran felt the hair on the nape of his neck stand on end. He was so surprised that his military-era speech habit came out.

Could she have seen through my plan? How?

Spera continued.

“You must have heard the rumor that if you work at the Bottom Farm you can die without pain. Rather than working until you become an old man here, you want to close your eyes happily and quickly.”

“Yes···?”

“What a slave like you thinks is obvious. I’ll let it slide looking at the cute face, so die in the way you want.”

Spera raised her body again.

The Overseer who hadn’t heard her words was carefully gauging the atmosphere.

Smiling brightly, she turned her back and left.

“Then I’ll be off. I have a meeting with Baron Philowin.”

“I will escort you!”

The Overseer hurriedly went out to see her off.

In the less-plowed field, only Bran and the corpse with the smashed head remained.

Watching their backs, Bran muttered softly.

“···Idiot.”

Really, not even a single particle was correct.

The most perfect miss.

****

The Crows drink the tears that flow out while laughing.

For them, the act of robbing peddlers is merely a minor side job.

With such classic methods they cannot build their own fortress or collude with a lord.

The true source of money was underground in Blackstone Fortress.

Under the name of the Bottom Farm.

“Calm for your age. Even grown men are trembling.”

The dwarf man said.

Since he was originally a short race, Bran had to lower his head considerably to face him.

The dwarf was scratching his bushy beard while operating a rusty lever.

“Aren’t you scared?”

The dwarf asked again.

The two were standing on a wooden platform.

Each time the gears turned above, the platform was slowly sinking.

It was the elevator leading to the Bottom Farm. A musty smell vibrated from all sides.

Perhaps because it was old wood, there was a creaking sound every time he stepped.

The vertical passage that had been part of an abandoned mine was covered in darkness where not even an inch ahead could be seen.

“I’m calmer than expected. Thank you for the compliment.”

“No need for thanks. I’m the one taking you to the underworld.”

Hearing Bran’s answer, the dwarf chuckled.

He introduced himself as the ferryman of the River Styx.

A guide leading the dead to the underworld.

Except for the point that the speaker was a shorty who couldn’t even row properly, it was a quite appropriate metaphor.

“Once you arrive underground you can’t come out until you fill fifteen days. And the possibility that you won’t last fifteen days is very high. Thinking that the light above is the last light of your life will make your knees weak, right?”

Hearing those words, Bran raised his head.

From an extremely distant upper side, a single speck was sparkling.

It was the entrance to the Bottom Farm that the two had entered.

“The final light··· maybe so.”

“Hehe, still don’t be too scared. There are no slaves who meet a happier end than those who die down there. Being able to die while smiling without a shred of pain, that is truly the best good death.”

Bran’s brow furrowed.

Talking about good death and collapsing.

He wanted to smash his head right now but unfortunately he couldn’t.

Because thick handcuffs were binding both his hands.

It was a process that had to be gone through when going between the Bottom Farm and the surface.

“Anyway, an unpleasant guy. Acting so arrogant despite looking like a girl?”

“Ugh!”

“A kid, I say.”

Then, the dwarf who had been examining Bran suddenly kicked his shin.

Something seemed to have bothered him. The face or the attitude, or both.

Anger welled up but as the current Bran, all he could do was endure and bear it.

Had about ten minutes passed like that?

Screeeech···!

With an annoying metallic sound, the elevator stopped.

“We’ve arrived.”

“Ugh.”

At the same time, a terrible stench stabbed his nose.

It was a kind he had never smelled even once in reality.

It felt like rotten soil had been stuffed into his nostrils.

The air had also become much hotter. A sticky gas was scraping his bronchi.

Just as he instinctively covered his mouth, the dwarf kicked Bran from behind.

“What are you doing not getting off quickly?”

“Ugh.”

His body was pushed. Barely catching his balance, Bran stood in place.

The panorama of the Bottom Farm unfolded before his eyes.

“······!”

“How is it. Scared a bit now?”

The dwarf laughed.

The guy was already wearing a gas mask covering his entire face.

Bran neither affirmed nor denied.

It was because he was speechless at the majesty incomparable to when he had seen it beyond the monitor.

‘Finally here. Bottom Farm.’

It was a scale incomparable to the surface farms that grew food ingredients.

Systematically divided farms stretched to places where the vision couldn’t reach.

A high ceiling and tangled pipes.

Faint steam was floating over the moistly wet soil.

“Even without torches there’s no problem working. Most of the plants growing here know how to emit light themselves.”

Indeed there were no lights.

Instead, spots of various colors were glowing on each crop stem.

The slowly blinking light clusters of the plants were reminiscent of the group dance of deep-sea fish.

All of them were forbidden crops that caused hallucinations or stimulant effects.

“Ehi, uhehe, hi!”

“Today too, I, today too, tomorrow···.”

“Yes mother. The wind leaf is a cat. In the barn where the bushes chirp we will strike the harp.”

In the darkness, the voices of the slaves were echoing.

They were performing indefinite labor while going back and forth in the farm with blankly loose eyes.

Someone laughs and someone sobs. There were plenty of people getting angry or muttering contextless sentences.

“Follow me. I’ll hand you over to the manager here.”

The dwarf who had been enjoying Bran’s reaction took the lead and walked.

Following behind, Bran paused.

It was brief, but the scenery before his eyes distorted and returned as if under hypnosis.

“Huh.”

Something was strange.

Bran noticed that the stench he had felt at first had already turned into a sweet fragrance.

It was the initial symptom of a person addicted to hallucinogenic crops.

Bran’s eyes widened.

‘Already?’

The speed at which the poison permeated was faster than expected.

It must be because he was young and his skin was soft.

However Bran did not panic.

Because he had a secret weapon.

Rummaging through his pocket, a small greenish lump was grasped.

Taking advantage of the gap when the dwarf wasn’t looking, Bran poured it into his mouth and frowned.

“Ugh.”

A tearfully bitter taste spread throughout his mouth.

Still he must not swallow or spit it out.

Bran endured the disgust and pushed the lump under his tongue.

There was a reason it was removed first when cooking.

A cook who put something like this into cooking wouldn’t be able to preserve their life.

The identity of the grass scrap was compressed Crown Turnip leaves.

The item he had asked Kale for some time ago.

‘This grass scrap has the effect of neutralizing toxicity.’

Information learned while playing multiple times.

The Crown Turnip leaves contained components that antagonized most of the poisonous herbs grown in the Bottom Farm.

It had been treated as a useless consumable item, but in fact it was an extremely useful herb.

Just like me.

“Haaa···.”

The effect manifested soon.

As the fragrance subsided, his head cleared.

The stench stabbed his nose again but this was much better.

Suddenly, translucent windows rose one after another before his eyes.

『You did not lose consciousness despite being exposed to a dangerous environment. Weed’s Tenacity activates!』

『The growth speed of Mental Power increases slightly.』

『If you continue to be exposed to or resist a dangerous environment, a new trait may be created.』

It was a faster timing than expected, just like the speed at which the poison permeated.

Taking his hand out of his pocket, Bran muttered in a voice filled with resolve.

“...It has begun.”