Kays Translations

Chapter 98: Godhand Dairi

The Spider Witch, Minister of Economy for Okutama, was nothing short of extraordinary.

After all, even after my death, not a single yen of my wealth had been lost. And that’s accounting for 80 years of inflation.

In the previous era, 10,000 yen equated to 1,000 new yen. But now, due to inflation, what you could once buy for 1,000 new yen requires 5,000. Prices have quintupled.

Before my death, I had saved 100 million new yen in cash. If that had simply been left untouched for 80 years, its value would now only be a fifth of what it was. Money only has value when it’s used—if it just sits there, its worth erodes on its own.

But the Spider Witch understood this principle thoroughly and had managed my assets so well that their real value had been preserved. In other words, I now had 500 million yen in cash. Prices may have quintupled, but so did my wealth—so its relative value remained unchanged.

How did she manage this? Through two types of local specialty products.

While I was dead, Okutama became known for two major specialties.

The first: brand-name rice.

A straightforwardly named high-grade rice, Okutamaimai, is cultivated by the plant-being Fuyou, who revived abandoned rice paddies in the region. Sweet, chewy, and filling, Okutamaimai is now one of Japan’s most prestigious rice varieties, rivaling Tōhoku’s Inabahime.

Thanks to the Spider Witch’s efforts, external research institutions were brought in to crossbreed and refine older rice strains, tailoring them for Okutama’s climate. Each year, the auction price for the new harvest of Okutamaimai sets new records. If you stay in a luxury inn in Tokyo, chances are this rice will be served.

Its only downside? Low yield. Okutama is mountainous and lacks rice fields, so it can’t compete in volume with other major rice-producing regions. Thus, while it remains a beloved high-end brand, it can’t dominate the market.

The second specialty: spider silk fabric.

Nowadays, when people say “spider silk,” they mean the spider thread fabric from Okutama. It comes in three grades: Grade 1 is produced by the Spider Witch herself. Grade 2 by higher-class spider-type monsters under her command. Grade 3 by the lower-class ones.

Any monsters that show up in Okutama are swiftly wiped out by Fuyou, the Spider Witch, and her minions. The spider silk created by feeding on their corpses is top-notch—light, stain-resistant, durable, and even slightly magic-resistant. Clothing made from this silk is a well-known Tokyo specialty.

With the Spider Witch’s help, a high-end fashion brand was launched in partnership with world-class designers. Coats made from Grade 1 spider silk fetch no less than 800,000 new yen each. It’s like the cashmere of the previous era—expensive, yes, but widely considered worth every yen.

Minister of Foreign Affairs Hiyori found the resurrection magic.

Minister of Death Dairi(me)? Well, I was dead.

Minister of Defense Fuyou guarded my remains.

Minister of Economy the Spider Witch preserved my assets.

All that’s left is the Minister of Cuteness.

Of the three creatures who once filled that role, only Mokutan remained in my home—the other two had moved on.

Unlike the other two, Mokutan had no plans to go searching for new territory. In fact, it seemed like the others left specifically to avoid overlapping with Mokutan. She’s friendly, gets along with both Fuyou and the Spider Witch, helps Fuyou by burning weeds to make fertilizer, and visits the Spider Witch’s old temple for bedtime stories. They all enjoy each other’s company.

Lately, I’ve been joining Mokutan for charcoal-making and playing around with flame color reactions as a break from dissecting Demon King Gremlin.

She’s incredibly affectionate.

And because of that, I was finally ready to remove the Fire Lizard Gremlin embedded in my hand.

Even if I removed it, Mokutan wouldn’t stop liking me.

There were two main reasons for the extraction.

First, to protect myself from magic death. This condition—often caused by one’s maximum mana dropping to zero—means complete erasure from the world. Not even resurrection magic can bring you back from that.

Right now, I have 6.1K mana. But an illness like Shadow fade could still be dangerous. Even guzzling mana potions might not be enough.

As long as the Gremlin remains embedded in my body, I can’t increase my mana max through training. So I need to remove it, train my mana, and avoid magic death.

Second, I want to learn teleportation magic.

Modern staff now reach up to triple-core structures, made possible by teleportation-based fabrication techniques.

Teleportation magic exists now. Even the highest-tier versions are restricted to inanimate objects and can’t go farther than 1 km—but still, it’s teleportation. If I could hollow out the inside of a Gremlin using teleportation, I wouldn’t need my godlike carving skills to create a multi-layered core.

Of course, it’s not like you can freely teleport whatever you want wherever you want.

You can’t precisely teleport a 1mm Gremlin exactly 1.2mm away with only 0.1mm margin of error.

Even teleportation users who try their best to fine-tune their technique can only just barely manage a triple-core structure using top-tier Gremlins. Any more and the error margins ruin it.

I can do better than that with my hands alone. But I’m still fascinated by teleportation methods and want to try them myself.

I heard that the mana cost of the entry-level teleportation spell used in processing is 50K. That’s heavy for a normal person—but if I extract the Gremlin and train, I could hit that level.

So, I had a reason to remove the Gremlin.

And if Mokutan wouldn’t hate me for it, then there was no reason not to.

Once I’d made up my mind, I called Mokutan into the workshop and had her sit by the small furnace. I used my custom medical scalpel to neatly extract the Gremlin from the back of my left hand.

Then I healed the incision with a healing scroll, waved my hand around to check for lingering effects, and asked Mokutan—who was sitting with her legs splayed out—nervously:

“Well, Mokutan… do I feel like a different person now?”

Mokutan tilted her head, her face still resembling Hiyori’s but with a dumber expression than Hiyori would ever make.

“Hmm? Dairi, you feel weird now. Like when Fuyou’s hair dried up…?”

“What kind of example is that?”

I tilted my head too, unsure if I got it or not. Apparently, she could sense some kind of difference.

I gently reached toward her. She hesitated a bit… but then, just like before, she licked my fingertips with her hot little tongue.

My hand got soaked in drool—and I felt immense relief. She’s the same old Mokutan. The Gremlin may have started our friendship, but everything we built after that didn’t disappear.

“Good girl, Mokutan! You’re so cute!”

“Yup. I’m cute. Mokutan—Kawaii~na.”

She’d learned fire control from Tsugibi, so she was no longer dangerously hot to the touch. I petted her all over—chin, hair, belly—and she flopped over onto her back, completely relaxed.

Even in human form, she behaved just like her younger self. That made me smile even more.

“There, there, there, there…”

“Mmm… Dairi, my back. Do my back too.”

“You got it. Here? Is this the spot?”

“Mmm. Perfect.”

As I lovingly ruffled her all over, a sudden clatter echoed behind me.

I turned to see Hiyori standing at the entrance to the workshop, dustpan in hand, frozen in shock. Apparently, she’d been cleaning—but had dropped the broom.

“Oh, Dairi? What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m petting Mokutan.”

“Dairi, your hand stopped. Pet me more~”

“Ah, sorry, sorry. There, there, good girl, good girl.”

When I gently kneaded around her lower back, Mokutan let out happy mewling sounds. Mokutan is just so cute!

I’m just enjoying some animal therapy time with Mokutan, or so I believe. But Hiyori, watching this, had a complicated expression on her face that was hard to describe.

She started to say something several times, only to stop herself each time. Finally, she spoke cautiously.

“Dairi. You know, Mokutan, she’s… well, physically, she looks like a middle school girl now. She’s not a fire lizard anymore. You get that, right?”

“You’re underestimating me too much. Of course I can see that.”

I protested while still rubbing Mokutan’s belly.

Sure, I may be a bit absent-minded sometimes, but even I can tell that Mokutan has taken on a humanoid form. It’s harder not to notice.

“R-right? I mean, it’s obvious just looking. So, uh… I’m not misunderstanding anything. I’m not. But, Dairi, when you’re petting Mokutan, it kind of… looks indecent, or something…”

“Indecent…? How?”

Her confusing words left me puzzled.

Is petting a pet considered indecent?

She’s never said anything like that before, even when I was petting Mokutan in the past.

Why bring it up now, all of a sudden?

Wait… is she implying all those “animal videos” I’ve watched up until now were actually adult videos!? I mean, they’re both called “AV” in English… No way. That can’t be.

As I stood there confused by Hiyori’s words, Mokutan suddenly spoke up as if she realized something.

“Got it. Blue Witch wants Dairi’s pets too!”

“I see…? Wait no, that’s not it.”

If Hiyori wants a massage, I’m happy to oblige.

But Mokutan’s “realization” doesn’t explain why Hiyori called my actions “indecent.” What exactly did she mean?

“Hey, Hiyori. I’m not smart enough to figure this out on my own. Can you explain what exactly is indecent about me petting Mokutan?”

“Dairi’s petting feels really good. Blue Witch should get some too!”

“Ugh…!”

“Hmm, I don’t get it, but maybe it’s nap time? I’ll help you relax, Hiyori.”

“Aaaah! My head’s gonna explode!”

Hiyori clutched her head, screaming in distress, writhing in anguish. But after a bizarre, inexplicable meltdown, she shouted, “Hold on, my sanity!” with wild determination and laid down on a mat she’d set on the floor.

…You know, massages are supposed to be relaxing. That level of energy is kind of missing the point.

“Ah, you can leave your clothes on, miss. But do take out anything you’ve got inside them.”

“Hah, hah… This is a massage. Dairi has no ulterior motives. This is a massage. Stay calm, me…”

Muttering under her breath, Hiyori began pulling items out from inside her robe one by one.

Out came handkerchiefs, hand cream, a pocket mirror, and sunscreen—very girly stuff. But then, she pulled out a handgun, which was a bit of a shock. Well, I guess in a world with chant-based and sealing magic, it makes sense to have non-magical sidearms. Still, seeing one up close is intense.

Next, she pulled out a gold ingot labeled “Abyss Gold” and a silver card labeled “Hollow Silver,” and I suddenly remembered—I hadn’t yet asked about magic metals.

I got so caught up in studying the geometric gremlins that I completely forgot to ask. I haven’t even looked into any of the related research papers yet.

“Hey Hiyori. What’s the deal with these magic metals anyway? Are they like alloys used for magic runes or something?”

“This is a massage, this is a massa— Huh? What’d you say?”

“These. The ingot and the card. What exactly are they?”

“Ah, right. I guess I never explained. Okay, so, there are currently three known magic metals…”

According to Hiyori, there are three magic metals: Abyss Gold, Hollow Silver, and Life Iron. All of them are produced by “burning” gremlins.

When gremlins are burned with the magic flame of “succession fire,” they vanish in a scatter of violet sparks. If you expose specific metals to these sparks in sufficient quantity, the metal undergoes transformation.

In the case of gold, the intermediate metal transformed by the violet sparks is compressed under deep-sea pressure to produce Abyss Gold.

Abyss Gold is also known as “Obedient Metal” and can be freely reshaped using magic power. With a single ingot, you can turn it into a sword, a shield, a pot, or even a kitchen knife.

Despite how easily it changes form via magic, it retains extremely high strength and hardness. Even when reshaped into ultra-fine needles, it doesn’t break easily. Tools made from Abyss Gold are favored by skilled craftsmen.

It’s also a required catalyst for the Tobacco Witch spellcasting. The chair Hiyori summoned using Abyss Gold was apparently a highly degraded, chantless imitation of the Tobacco Witch’s Feast Magic (the real version causes gourmet meals to spring forth from golden dishes made of Abyss Gold).

Hollow Silver can be refined by exposing silver to gremlin violet sparks in a vacuum.

Only about ten years have passed since the discovery of Hollow Silver, and its standalone effects are still unknown. The only confirmed property is that, when used in combination with an amulet, it can create a magic attenuation field.

When Hollow Silver is brought into contact with an amulet, the amulet’s magic recovery field transforms into a magic attenuation field. Inside this field, the power of all magic is indiscriminately weakened.

Basic spells like “Shoot aa!”, “Freeze, Valaar!”, and “Flames, Jin-Ga!” are completely nullified, and it even serves as a substitute for magical resistance against powers used by transcendents or demons who control magic directly.

However, the field also weakens self-enhancement magic and healing spells. Return spells (like teleportation) fail due to disrupted magical flow. So, while useful, a magic attenuation field has its pros and cons.

Hiyori’s Hollow Silver card is the highest-grade Transcendent Certification Card.

In recent years, the increase in demons has made it hard to distinguish them from transcendents. That’s why this card was created—to prove identity without needing to show off massive magic power or cast large-scale spells.

The Transcendent Certification Card acts as an ID, a passport, and even a police badge. If a high-class monster appears, showing the card will immediately gain you full cooperation in extermination efforts.

Hiyori’s card is the top-tier version, so it can even be used in a dramatic way, like:
“Do you know who you’re addressing?! This person is none other than the strongest in the world, the Blue Witch! Show some respect!”
It’s powerful.

Life Iron is made by having a living creature absorb a gremlin-spark-treated intermediate metal, and then magically killing and erasing that creature. The manufacturing process is pretty gruesome.

Life Iron was only discovered last year, and nothing about its properties is currently known. It’s still in the early stages of research.

“Hmm… Hollow Silver sounds like the most interesting one. If it can alter gremlin properties, maybe it has wider potential. But Demon King Gremlins are made entirely from gremlins, so… maybe advanced magic civilizations don’t need anything else?”

“Uh, Dairi? A-about that massage…?”

“Sorry, I’m busy right now.”

I don’t know how it works in the Kingdom of Luce’s Cuodenents, but regarding the Demon King Gremlins—they’re made entirely from gremlin materials.

Does that mean Hollow Silver isn’t essential for creating advanced magical constructs? Was the Demon King Gremlin just a special case? In Earth’s civilizations, after all, computers and pharmaceuticals use totally different materials.

Is it arrogant to think that magical civilizations never discovered Hollow Silver, and that Earth civilization did it independently? Abyss Gold is clearly part of structured spellcasting systems, but Hollow Silver… hmmm…

I was so deep in thought about the mystery of magical metals that I didn’t notice everyone had left the workshop.

Outside, it was completely dark, and I realized I’d been lost in thought for quite a long time. Mokutan, who was chewing on charcoal in the dirt-floored room, told me that Hiyori had gone home looking pretty dejected.

I feel bad. She probably wanted that massage after all. I’ll make sure to read a massage manual and learn a proper technique by the next time she visits.

I’m not sure if human massage techniques work on someone with Hiyori’s internal structure, but with my dexterity, I should be able to figure it out.

Good thing I’m dexterous. Three cheers for dexterity!

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