Kays Translations

Chapter 115: Return to the Auction

The shimmering summer had passed, and now it was the season when bell crickets and field crickets held nightly concerts in the garden.

Sitting on the veranda, I watched as Mokutan busily cracked walnut shells using the sharp spine on the back of the Spider Witch, who sat as still as a garden stone.

Though Mokutan is a gourmet who loves charcoal, she also seems to really like the charred shells of walnuts. She carefully places the cracked shells into a basket, but tosses the actual nutmeat carelessly into another one. Huh… very different food values, I guess.

As I idly fanned myself and watched, Hiyori came over with two cups of strong barley tea and sat down next to me.

“Here.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“I noticed we were running low on barley tea packs, so I bought more.”

“Thanks for that too.”

I replied casually, but then it hit me—lately, more and more of the things in the house had been bought by Hiyori.

Not just the barley tea packs, but also milk, curry powder, and other groceries—Hiyori brings them. She used to drink tea from one of my spare mugs, but now she has her own. There’s even a Hiyori-only shampoo in the bathroom. Her pillow is always left in the bedroom. Her toothbrush, potted plants—her stuff is everywhere.

She visits three to five times a week, so it’s only natural that her belongings would pile up. But every time the Spider Witch notices something new of Hiyori’s in the house, she gives off this vague aura—like she wants to say something.

I don’t get it. As long as she leaves the workshop’s interior untouched, I don’t care if the house fills up with Hiyori’s stuff or the Spider Witch’s stuff. Even Mokutan has turned the gap under the front shoe cabinet into her own treasure trove, stuffing it full of junk. Do what you want, I say.

“Dairi…”

As the two of us sat side by side watching Mokutan diligently cracking walnuts, the Spider Witch—bored with Mokutan riding on her back—spoke up.

“…Don’t you want to catch crickets or anything?”

“Nah, not really. Why?”

“Because you caught a beetle. I thought maybe you liked bugs…”

“Oh, not really. It’s not that I like bugs. Catching beetles and stag beetles is just kind of an instinct for guys. When we see a big one, we just feel compelled to catch it. That’s how men are.”

“Hmmm… I don’t quite get that. That kind of mindset…”

“Guys like big and strong things. Like you—you’re big and strong, and a spider too. You’re basically irresistible to my manly instincts. Honestly, I adore you.”

“H-Hmmm…”

The Spider Witch clicked her jaws in what seemed to be satisfaction, while Hiyori’s half-finished barley tea suddenly froze solid.

“Uh… w-well, the Blue Witch is big too… magically. She’s strong. Maybe she… stirs your manly heart too…?”

“Is there any man who doesn’t love the Blue Witch? World’s greatest magic power, strongest fighter, most beautiful, best girlfriend, cutest in the world…”

I counted off on my fingers, then paused in shock. How many “world’s bests” does she have? That’s gotta violate some kind of monopoly law.

“Mimi. But I’m Mokutan Kawaiina. World Champion of Cuteness. I won’t lose.”

“Ah yes, there’s a theory that cuteness is a joint first place too.”

I nodded at Mokutan, who had paused her walnut cracking to challenge back. She let out a puff of sparks, looking very pleased. Mokutan is so cute!

“…Looking back, I’m glad Dairi is so bad at communication. If he had average social skills, he probably would’ve seduced two or three dozen witches by now.”

“That’s probably true…”

Hiyori and the Spider Witch nodded together, strangely solemn. Stop having these incomprehensible conversations. The only witch I’ve ever loved—or will love—is Hiyori, now and forever.

Later, we ended up talking about the world’s biggest insects. As the conversation flowed, I learned that the Spider Witch, who had once registered her “world’s largest spider molt” with Guinness, had auctioned off that molt for charity—donating the 8 million yen in proceeds to a medical organization in a developing country.

I was speechless. Her heart is just too pure.

Are there really people out there who are afraid of a witch this good-hearted? She’s more saintly than most saints. No, she’s a saint spider.

“Maybe I should auction something too…”

“Oh, if you’re going to donate, talk to me about where it goes. A lot of so-called charities are really just golden parachutes for bureaucrats…”

“Oh no, it’s not about that shadowy side of society. I’ve just always been curious—how much would my magic staff sell for at auction?”

Back when the internet still worked, I was just a fan-made anime merch creator.

After becoming a magic staff artisan, the world was too busy recovering from collapse to have many rich people tossing cash around at auctions.

But now, things have changed.

Compared to the early days of magic, the world is much more peaceful. Income gaps have widened, and the rich are now rolling in money.

If I were to create a brand-new magic staff as the legendary staff maker 0933 and put it up for auction—

How much would the rich elite be willing to pay?

I’m really curious.

“Hm. An auction, huh? Just so you know, online auctions still aren’t back.”

“Yeah, I know. But—what about an in-person auction?”

“Ah. Those are back. And you’ve always said you wanted to auction off one of your staffs. Shall I file your entry for the next big auction?”

“Yes, do it!!”

And so, it was decided.

I’m entering. A brand-new staff crafted by the legendary staff maker 0933, risen like a phoenix in the modern age, is going up for auction.

Ohhh man, I’m getting hyped!

Now then.

To craft a staff and put it up for auction, the first step was deciding on its specifications.

It had to be far superior to your average staff, but nowhere near the level of Kyanos. That’s the sweet spot—it couldn’t be too powerful, or else it would disrupt the balance of the world. The fact that it would only tip the balance without outright breaking it really shows how much the world has progressed.

First, multi-layer cores are generally capped at three layers.

However, the current cutting-edge technique—in which you teleport the innards of a gremlin in and out using transfer magic to hollow it out or fill it—shows promise. In the near future, a four-layer processing method might be developed.

Therefore, the staff I’m going to make will have a five-layer core. Not too strong, not too weak.

As for the backflow prevention mechanism, there are two main technological branches: prevention and reduction.

The prevention mechanism constantly maintains a high level of backflow cut-off.

The reduction mechanism, while offering less effective cut-off, returns part of the backflowed magic power to the user. It’s like a cashback system for mana consumption.

The reduction type clearly has more long-term potential. But for now, the prevention type still has the upper hand. So I’ll go with prevention.

Magic power sensors are still a form of overtechnology that humanity hasn’t even come close to reproducing. I’ll implement one while shamelessly showing off.

The Kvant-style magic power compression ring has been crudely replicated and, while still expensive, has entered the realm of common tech.

Thanks to advances in processing methods, it’s now possible to carve thick chain rings from large gremlins classified as Grade-2 and above.

This time, I want to show off my skills with a thin, elegant chain ring. Don’t underestimate me—I carve chains better than anyone.

I won’t include an emergency defense attachment due to the shortage of magic power stones. They were rare even in the past, and their value has skyrocketed now. They’re not something you can whip up on a whim.

I’d love to include an anti-theft curse mechanism, but auctions make it impossible to know who the buyer will be. Since curses are essentially tailored to individuals, it’s incompatible. So, no curses either.

The magic spiral is the hottest new mechanism right now.

There’s no reason not to include it. But it would be a problem if simply holding the wand automatically converted magic power into self-enhancements. So I’ll make it so the internal mechanism toggles on and off by twisting the handle.

Finally, the chantless casting mechanism.

This one caused a major argument between me and my advisor, Hiyori.

According to her, chantless magic is extremely powerful. I’ve seen what Iruma did with it, so I understand it’s strong—but apparently, it’s even stronger than I assumed.

If chantless magic spreads, the world will definitely change—not might, but will.

Beyond just the convenience of casting without chants, its greatest strength is the ability to create original spells. In the extreme case, someone might develop an upgraded version of mind-control magic that works just by glaring at someone.

Even the most basic chantless mechanism in my prototype demon lord wand, Reficule, could be reverse-engineered. It could then be rebuilt in even more complex forms. Sure, it would likely be bulkier than my design—but it’s still possible.

It’s easy to imagine a scenario where the chantless mechanism I developed—based on reverse-engineering a Demon Lord Gremlin—is itself further reverse-engineered by technicians all over the world. Downgraded mechanisms, based on my downgrade of the demon lord gremlin, would flood the market.

Even with performance two steps below the original, it would be extremely dangerous—that’s Hiyori’s stance.

I understand her concern, but personally, I don’t think it’s necessary to be quite so alarmist.

Even if I kept it secret, humanity would eventually reach chantless magic on its own.

That magic power calculator by Yamagami-san was a huge accomplishment. If human gremlin geometry has progressed to the point where something like that can be created, then someone will eventually invent chantless casting on their own—even without my help.

Can we guarantee that the person who does it will be a good person? Absolutely not.

In the worst-case scenario, it might be someone like Iruma—a scumbag with a brilliant mind—who invents it and ruins the world. Or, I might be kidnapped for the secrets, just like Iruma tried to do.

The worst thing would be letting bad actors monopolize the technology.

That’s why I believe that putting a chantless wand up for auction—not to indulge my ego or pride, but to let it spread—is actually not the worst outcome. In fact, it might be the second best option, or even better.

You can’t suppress the spread and advancement of technology forever.

In the end, Hiyori backed down with the reasoning: “As long as Master Dairi stays ahead of everyone else technologically, there won’t be a problem.”

And in truth, I do control the Demon Lord Gremlin, the source of the chantless mechanism. So I’m the strongest. As long as everyone else is playing catch-up, they can never surpass me.

I’ll make cutting-edge, high-performance wands. Other artisans will mass-produce inferior ones.

I can’t mass-produce, and they can’t make high-end wands.

That creates balance. That’s how it’s been—and how it will continue to be.

And thus, the specifications for the staff I’ll be auctioning have been finalized.

A five-layer core.
The latest backflow prevention mechanism.
A magic power sensor.
A Kvant-style magic compression ring.
A magic spiral.
The simplest chantless casting mechanism.

That’s all.

Once the specifications were finalized, all that was left was to build it.

To submit it to the world-class auction being held in Tokyo two months from now, I began crafting the magic wand.

How many hundreds of millions of yen will it fetch at auction?

I can’t wait to find out!

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