“I cannot do it.”
I answered almost reflexively.
The air in the hallway came to a standstill.
Asakura Mio did not look surprised.
She watched me quietly, fully aware of the camera broadcasting the stream, the gazes of the company staff, and the presence of the management section chief, Saegusa.
“May I ask why?”
“I am not an explorer.”
“But you are an Awakened, are you not?”
“I am registered, yes. But my rating is at the bottom. Combat incapable. Permissible only for civilian guidance assistance. That is my evaluation.”
Saegusa interjected at that point.
“That is correct. Minase is a night guide for our company, not a rescue explorer. Any further on-site intervention is not permitted.”
Mio spoke without looking at Saegusa.
“I am asking Minase-san.”
Saegusa’s cheek twitched.
I let out a breath.
Yesterday, I had no time to think.
There was a lost child in front of me, I could see the white line, and the red line was closing in.
So, I ran.
But today is different.
This is a formal request for rescue.
In other words, it means I would be entering the dungeon of my own volition.
A man who cannot fight.
A man with a dud class.
“Asakura-san, you are strong. Your party is excellent as well. The rescue team is already here. You do not need me to go.”
“Do not need you to go?”
There was no accusatory tone in Mio’s voice.
She was simply waiting for me to continue.
I looked at my feet.
The white line crossed the hallway and was sucked into the gap beneath the fire shutter.
It was faint.
Thinner than yesterday.
A white light that looked as if it might vanish at any moment.
Beside it, the red line was slowly thickening.
“Even if I do not go, someone else might save them.”
“That may be true,” Mio nodded. “But only you can see it, Minase-san.”
I felt as though my escape route had been blocked.
She was not just strong.
She could look precisely at a person’s vulnerabilities without crudely trampling over them.
“Two explorers went missing yesterday,” Mio said, displaying data on her device.
She showed me photos of a young man and woman. Their names were Kengo Aizawa and Riko Aizawa.
“They were a novice sibling party. They entered to complete a mapping request for the lower levels. When the collapse occurred, they were on a different route than ours. The rescue team hasn’t been able to pick up any heat signatures, and the Dungeon Agency is expanding the search area.”
“Then, even if I go, I will only be a hindrance.”
“Yesterday, you found an emergency ticket gate that did not show up on any heat signature scans.”
“That was just a coincidence.”
“I want to verify if that coincidence can happen twice.”
The comment section scrolled by rapidly.
Is White-Line-Guy going? Don’t push yourself. But if you can see it, please. It’s wrong to tell someone who can’t fight to go. If it’s in coordination with the rescue team, it’s possible.
It wasn’t entirely a demand to go, which was a bit surprising.
There were actual people behind the screen.
They weren’t just telling me to gamble someone’s life on a whim.
“Minase,” Saegusa said in a low voice. “You are grounded. Do not create more problems before your disciplinary action.”
“Yes.”
The moment I answered, the white line wavered.
At the end of the thin line, red began to bleed through faintly.
A tightness gripped my chest.
Yesterday, I told Renta that a guide guides until the very end.
Was that just a way to deal with the situation?
Was I just posturing because I was in front of a camera?
No.
I wanted to say that, but my feet wouldn’t move.
It was because I was afraid.
Yesterday, things worked out by luck.
There was no guarantee it would go well again.
If I misread the white line, Mio, the rescue team, and the missing explorers would all die.
I would die, too.
The fact that I cannot fight would not change, even if I were praised on a stream.
“Minase-san.”
Mio took a step closer.
“I am not asking you to fight.”
“But if we enter the dungeon, combat will occur.”
“I will handle the combat.”
Her answer was immediate.
There was a surprising lack of hesitation.
“If an enemy appears, I will cut it down. If there is rubble, I will move it. If there are traps, I will check them first. What I need you to do is everything else.”
“Everything else?”
“Choosing the way home.”
The noise of the hallway grew distant.
Choosing the way home.
That was the job I had been doing for a long time.
Finding the shortest route. Guiding people who cannot use stairs to the elevators. Avoiding corridors that close after the last train. Choosing an easy-to-understand path for someone confused about transfers, even if it is slightly longer.
There is no need to fight.
I only need to choose the path that leads home.
Shinjuku Station is a labyrinth even for those accustomed to it.
People want to go to the East Exit but end up at the West Exit. They take a wrong turn in the underground passages and end up taking a long detour on the surface on a rainy day. They pass in front of the same ticket gate three times while clutching their transfer navigation apps.
I have guided such people countless times.
Every time I did, I thought the same thing.
What a lost person needs is not a lecture.
It is a voice that tells them, “This way.”
“You are not a convenient skill just to make me look good,” Mio said. “Yesterday, I was able to open the path with my sword because you did not choose the wrong way.”
Those words might have been exactly what I wanted to hear most.
It wasn’t just about being protected by a strong person.
It was about directing the power of a strong person to the correct place.
Guidance is useful.
I felt like someone had finally told me that.
“I have conditions,” I said.
Saegusa’s eyes widened. “Minase!”
“I haven’t said I’m going yet.”
Mio smiled faintly. “I’m listening.”
“You must coordinate with the rescue team. You must not use my judgment as a highlight for your stream. And if I determine it is too dangerous, we will retreat even if we haven’t found the missing people.”
“I cannot accept the last condition,” Mio said immediately.
I looked at her. Her eyes were straight and unwavering.
“I will not enter with the premise of abandoning the missing people. However, if you determine that ‘everyone will die if we continue like this,’ we will retreat.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“It is different. We will not give up before we even start looking.”
She had the face of a competent explorer.
She didn’t just charge in based on emotion.
But she also refused to draw lines before attempting a rescue.
“Understood,” I nodded. “What about the rescue team?”
“I have already spoken to the Dungeon Agency. This is a temporary accompaniment as a civilian collaborator. Though, I do need your company’s permission.”
Mio’s gaze shifted to Saegusa.
Saegusa made a sour face.
The stream was ongoing.
Yesterday’s logs existed.
The missing explorers were still out there.
If he stopped me now based solely on company convenience, a public outcry would be unavoidable.
“Our company will prioritize the safety of our staff above all else,” Saegusa said carefully. “However, provided there is a formal request from the Dungeon Agency and the individual consents, we will permit this accompaniment for the purpose of providing on-site information.”
The comment section surged all at once.
Essentially permitted. That’s such a corporate way to say it. But it passed! White-Line-Guy, don’t overdo it. Mio-chan, I’m counting on you.
I wasn’t looking at my smartphone; I was looking at my feet.
The white line had grown slightly thicker.
It was as if it were telling me that there was still time.
“How much time for preparation?” Mio asked.
“Five minutes.”
“Isn’t that short?”
“The line is faint. The longer we wait, the more dangerous it becomes.”
Mio’s expression shifted. “What equipment do you need?”
“A lightweight flashlight. A first-aid pouch. Water. And clothes that allow me to run.”
“Any weapons?”
“I wouldn’t be able to use them even if I had them.”
“Honesty is good.”
Mio issued orders to her team. “Two spare lights, a portable beacon, and hemostatic agents. I will lead with Minase-san, and the rescue team will follow thirty meters behind. The stream is to prioritize recording; do not pick up provocative comments.”
She was fast.
There was no hesitation.
The fear that had been swirling inside me until a moment ago began to take a different shape.
I was still afraid.
But I could see the order in which I needed to move.
When one can see the order, one can move.
Aoshima came running up to me.
“Toru.”
“What?”
“Take this.”
He handed me a small mobile battery and an old paper station map.
“I don’t know if it will be useful, but you get calm when you have a paper map, right?”
“You know me well.”
“We’re friends, after all. Besides, I’ll keep an eye on the company internal chat. If any weird information leaks, I’ll stop it.”
“Don’t go leaking it yourself.”
“I won’t. I’ll just protect it.”
Aoshima flashed his usual lighthearted smile.
Because of that smile, the tension in my shoulders eased just a little.
“Minase-san.” Mio held out a helmet toward me. “Can you go?”
I took it and pulled it down deeply.
The white line led underneath the fire shutter.
Beyond the shutter was the restricted zone.
The site of yesterday’s collapse.
And the place where someone who hasn’t returned yet was waiting.
“Let’s go.”
As I answered, Mio turned toward the streaming camera.
“We are now entering for the rescue of the missing explorers. To all viewers, this is not a dungeon-clearing stream. It is not something meant to be shown for entertainment in a dangerous place.”
Her voice was calm.
“We are keeping the broadcast on simply to document what happened.”
The flow of the comment section slowed down slightly.
Beside her, I knelt down at the gap in the fire shutter.
The white line continued deep inside.
But I saw something different from yesterday.
There was a thin branch in the middle of the white line.
One path led to the right. One path led to the left.
The right was a thick white line. It was a wide path that would be easy for the rescue team to enter.
The left was a thin white line. It led to a collapsed maintenance passage, barely wide enough for one person to pass.
And, at the end of the thin white line on the left, there was a faint pulsation.
A light, like the breath of a person.
“Minase-san?” Mio noticed.
I swallowed hard.
“This line… it is still connected to someone.”
At that moment, from beyond the fire shutter, a sound of metal being struck echoed.
Three times.
After a pause, three more times.
It was a signal for help.