Exploring the floor went more smoothly than I expected.
Apparently, the observation skills I'd trained as a salesman worked in a dungeon too. From little oddities like stains on the wall or cracks in the floor, I kept finding traps one after another.
"I see. Three pitfall traps on this floor, two poison arrows, four vines..."
Like building a client list, I recorded the types and locations of traps into the map in my head. These were my pieces to play.
Maybe an hour had passed since I started.
At the far end of the floor, in a dead-end chamber, I found it.
An old wooden [treasure chest].
I'd seen these on TV. A rare object, hard to find even inside dungeons. They usually held valuables or precious items.
But like they say, fortune invites trouble.
In front of the chest were three obvious, deadly traps. [Impaling Trap] spikes from the floor, [Falling Rock Trap] from the ceiling, and most likely an [Explosion Trap] set on the chest itself.
The old me could only have given up.
But now I had [Rearrangement].
"Alright, what's the play..."
I folded my arms and thought.
My skill wouldn't work here anymore. I'd already used it three times fighting goblins.
...Wait.
The description said "three times per floor."
That meant if I left the floor once, then came back, the uses would reset—right?
Just a theory, but worth testing.
I went back to the dungeon entrance, breathed the outside air, then stepped onto the same floor again.
I headed straight for the chamber with the treasure chest.
I focused my awareness on the skill.
And sure enough, blue highlights lit up in my vision again.
Good. Just as I thought. Now I could make a move.
The problem was how to move this treasure chest to safety.
I reorganized my thoughts about my skill.
Back with the goblins, I'd shoved traps under their feet. That was the basic "placement mode."
But this time, I had to actually swap the [treasure chest] with something else.
So, my skill had two modes: one-sided "placement," and two-way "swap."
The swap mode felt like it strained my brain a bit more, probably because it needed precise control of two coordinates at once. This was an ace I should save for big moments.
With the plan decided, I remembered the harmless monster near the start of this floor.
A trembling, jelly-like [slime], weakest of the weak, with no aggression at all.
Perfect. I'd swap the chest with that.
I pictured the [treasure chest] in front of me and the [slime] in the corridor from memory.
Then I willed it.
"Swap!"
In an instant, the chest vanished soundlessly.
In its place appeared the semi-transparent blue slime, quivering without a clue where it had been sent.
The traps didn't activate.
I smirked in satisfaction.
Hurrying back toward the dungeon entrance, I found exactly what I expected: the old wooden treasure chest sitting there.
A perfect relocation, from a trap-laden death zone to a safe corridor.
This was the true potential of [Rearrangement].
Carefully, I opened the chest. Inside were a few dozen dull silver coins, and three [Low-Rank Healing Potions]. Not a fortune, but more than decent for today's haul.
* * *
Leaving the dungeon, I headed straight for the Adventurers' Guild.
At the exchange counter, I dumped today's finds onto the tray—[magic stone]s, fangs, and silver coins.
The receptionist gave me an openly annoyed look, unimpressed by my shabby clothes and the fact I wasn't even a registered F-rank adventurer.
But as the appraisal went on, her expression shifted slightly.
"...That comes to 35,000 yen in total."
I gasped at the number.
Just a few hours, and 35,000 yen.
Far more than my old daily wage as a company man.
With trembling hands, I accepted the cash she handed me. The feel of the bills was almost too real.
"With this..."
Looking at the money clutched in my hand, Misaki's face naturally came to mind.
Yesterday, when she'd smiled apologetically over egg fried rice.
No more of that. I wouldn't make her wear that look again.
Leaving the guild, I headed for the department store basement in the station building.
Behind the glittering glass cases sat thick slabs of roast beef. Colorful cakes from a famous patisserie.
Normally, I'd check the price tags and turn away fast.
But today was different.
I ordered the most expensive roast beef, and without hesitation, a fruit tart—Misaki's favorite.