Mushoku Tensei: Jobless Reincarnation - Volume 3

Chapter 4: The Foundations of Trust

If I had to describe Roxy's former village in one word, it would be destitute.

There were less than twenty households. It was a bit hard to describe the buildings themselves; it looked like they just dug down into the earth then covered up the hole with something that resembled a turtle's shell. It was obvious at a glance that the architectural techniques in use here weren't nearly as advanced as those of the Asura Kingdom. Then again, even if you brought a crew of Asuran builders out here, they probably wouldn't have managed to make anything better—there didn't seem to be any lumber to work with after all.

The little field I'd spotted from outside the gate was lined by neat rows of wilting, leafy plants. In all honesty, it looked like they were all half-dead. Somewhat concerning. The Dictionary of Demonkind hadn't included much detailed information on agriculture unfortunately. All I could remember was a brief mention that their vegetables tended to be "bitter and unpleasant."

Apart from the crops themselves, there were also some alarmingly toothy flowers growing at the very edges of the field. They bore a strong resemblance to the deadly plants known to lurk inside green pipes in a certain video game series; but it seemed plausible that these were actually some sort of animal, given the way they audibly gnashed their ugly, uneven fangs together. Presumably they'd been placed there to protect the crops from hungry animals.

Near the village fence, a group of young girls moved busily around a fire. It looked like a bunch of junior high kids out on a camping trip, but they seemed to be focused on cooking a single enormous meal. Apparently they made their meals in one big pot and then distributed shares to all the villagers.

There were almost no men around. I did notice a few children who were ostensibly boys at play, but other than Rowin and the elder, the adults were all women. The others were presumably off securing tomorrow's dinner. From what I remembered, men did most of the hunting in these villages, while the women looked after their homes.

"What sort of prey is there to hunt around here, Ruijerd?" I asked.

"Monsters," he replied.

That answer was probably perfectly true, but it felt slightly lacking in detail—like a fisherman telling you he caught "fish" for a living.

Oh well. Guess I'll just have to press a little harder. 

"Uhm... Do those shells on top of their houses come from monsters too?"

"Those come from Great Tortoises. Their shells are tough, and their meat's delicious. You can even make bowstrings from their tendons."

"Are those the hunters' main targets then?"

"Yes."

A tasty tortoise, huh? It was a little hard to picture one massive enough to fit these shells. The one covering the village's biggest house had to be at least sixty feet long.

As that thought ran through my head, Ruijerd and Rokkus stepped into that very building. One thing never seemed to change, no matter where I ended up: the guy in charge always had the nicest house.

"Pardon me."

"Th-thank you for having us."

Mumbling some vaguely polite words, Eris and I went in as well.

"Whoa..."

The interior of the dugout was much more spacious than I would've guessed from the outside. Its floor was covered with furs, and the walls were decorated with colorful works of art; a fire blazed in a sunken hearth at the center of the room, lighting the interior quite nicely. There were no separate rooms or dividing walls; at night, you probably just wrapped yourself up in a fur and curled up by the fire. I noticed a number of swords and bows placed carefully near the outer walls. You could certainly tell this was a community of hunters.