I’m a Socially Awkward Loner with No Presence, Yet the World’s Strongest Dungeon Explorer – Apparently, Dungeon Streaming is All the Rage, and While I Don’t Get It, I Might as Well Join In!

Chapter 1



CHAPTER 1

“A Request in the Middle of a Weekday… Ugh, This is Exhausting.”

It’s been about 70 years since dungeons—something straight out of fantasy—began appearing in the world.
I only vaguely remember learning about it in World History A, which focuses on modern history, but honestly, I never paid much attention.
Wouldn’t it be more convenient if they just created a separate subject called “Dungeon History”?
Not that it would matter to me, since I barely pay attention in class anyway.

Anyway, it seems that about 70 years have passed since humanity began conquering dungeons.
Not that it has anything to do with me—I’m just someone who explores them.
I might have learned something about it in a lecture at some point, but I barely remember.
Not that it’s my fault—hardly anyone actually pays attention to those boring lectures.

“Good work out there!”
“Good work… sir.”
“As expected of you!”

When I return to the surface from a dungeon, the staff at the Explorer’s Association greet me with excessive politeness.
They seem a little stiff, but I’m still a high school student—
Wouldn’t it be fine if they were a little more casual with me?
Not that saying anything would change their robotic replies of “Not at all, sir!”

I guess it’s just how it is—after all, employees of the Explorer’s Association are basically government workers.

“Explorer Rank EX—’UNKNOWN’—has returned!”

“…God, that’s embarrassing.”

“Come right this way. The branch chief is expecting you.”

Seriously, I should have picked a different registered name.
Why the hell did I leave it blank when I applied?
My past self from two years ago really screwed me over.

And why do they insist on using my registered explorer name?
Just call me by my real name already.

“Ah, there you are! That was fast, as usual!”

“I prefer to get work out of the way as soon as possible.”

“That’s what I like to hear, Tsukasa Kisaragi.”

“…Thanks.”

As soon as I enter the room, the young man inside plasters on a salesman’s grin and extends his hand for a handshake.
I shake it, but seriously—his fake smile screams shady.

“As expected, you were the perfect choice for this request.
All the other reliable explorers were busy, and I couldn’t afford to send some half-baked amateurs and risk failure.
That would’ve been on me, after all.”

“Fair enough. But calling a student in the middle of a weekday seems a little messed up, don’t you think?”

“Oh, but that’s why you enrolled in a private high school with flexible attendance, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, except I didn’t get my explorer qualification until after I started high school.”

…This guy just says whatever sounds convenient for him, huh?
At first, I was just letting his empty flattery slide, but he’s actually spouting total nonsense.
It’s not like I’m happy to be here either—
I mean, this is basically a bunch of adults dumping their work onto a high schooler.
Even if I’m EX-rank, there are limits to what’s acceptable.
This has to be some kind of human rights violation.
No wonder the Explorer’s Association is constantly understaffed.

Not that me grumbling about it internally will change anything.
And, to be fair, this guy in front of me is probably just another cog in the machine, struggling to keep up with his own workload.
Still, that doesn’t mean I’m going to trust his sketchy smile.

“The payment has been transferred, so no worries there.”

“Appreciate it.”

“With that much money, you can do whatever you want, right?”

“…Maybe. Guess so.”

“Humble as ever, huh?”

“If this seems humble to you, you might want to visit a doctor. Or maybe a labor board.”

The Explorer’s Association clearly thinks throwing money at people solves everything.
They should be questioning why they’re making a high schooler do this kind of work.
Sure, I agreed to a contract when I hit EX-rank, but still.

Man, this is such a pain.
I wish someone else would show up with enough skill to take over my workload.
Then I could actually go to school and sleep soundly at home instead of constantly working.
Would it kill the world to produce another EX-rank explorer already?

Ever since dungeons appeared, human life has completely changed.
Or so I’ve heard.
Personally, I wouldn’t know—
I was born into a world where dungeons were already part of everyday life.

Dungeons provide valuable resources for humanity—
Some contain rare metals, while others produce delicacies no one’s ever tasted before.
But for the most part, dungeons are all about magic stones, which drop from the monsters inside.

That’s right—dungeons spawn monsters.
Creatures that once only existed in fantasy stories became real,
and when they’re defeated, they sometimes drop magic stones—
which, several decades ago, some genius figured out how to use as an energy source.

Since then, countries worldwide have made dungeon exploration a top priority.
At first, people couldn’t do much against monsters that were immune to bullets—
but then, over time, children started being born with a mysterious power: magic.
Nobody knows why it happened,
but once it became clear that magic could take down monsters, every country started hoarding magic users.

Now, decades later, the world is at a standstill.

Why?

Because dungeon exploration has stagnated.

There are around 500 dungeons worldwide,
but only less than 20 have been fully conquered.

That’s less than 4%.

And the reason?
Nobody cares about reaching the deepest floors anymore.

These days, just diving into dungeons is profitable enough.
Governments have enough energy to function,
explorers can make good money without taking unnecessary risks,
so there’s no incentive to push further.

“…Hah.”

I sigh as I check my bank balance.

It’s not that there’s too little—
if anything, I have more money than I could ever spend.
I’ve got several times the lifetime earnings of a regular salaryman.
But what I actually want isn’t money—
it’s freedom.

I try to spend as much as possible for the sake of the economy.
I live in a luxury home,
own multiple properties in Tokyo,
buy the most expensive gaming setups,
and dine at high-end restaurants every week.

And yet—

Japan’s economic system is stupid.
The more money you have, the more money you make—
and since I’m constantly taking dungeon requests,
I earn more than I can possibly spend.

Even after paying taxes, I could easily live in luxury for the rest of my life.

“Too much money isn’t really a problem, but…
This definitely isn’t a normal high schooler’s dilemma.”

I barely attend school,
I have no friends, no girlfriend, not even a crush.

Even with all this money,
I have no idea if I’m winning or losing at life.

“I Have No Parents or Guardians, So I Could Live Freely If I Wanted… But Lately, I Don’t Even Have the Energy for That.”

I sound like some overworked corporate drone, but I can’t help reminiscing about the early days—
Back when I had zero responsibilities and simply explored dungeons for the fun of it.

If I had made more of an effort to make friends or find a party when I first became an explorer…
Would my life have been more enjoyable?
Probably not.
A socially awkward, introverted high school loner like me was never cut out for that.

Thinking about things I can’t change is just stressing me out…
Maybe I should blow off some steam in a dungeon.

The dungeon I chose for my stress relief was Shibuya Dungeon, the closest one to both my home and school—
which, honestly, is where I do most of my dungeon dives.

Being located in Tokyo, Japan’s capital,
Shibuya Dungeon is one of the most famous dungeons,
both in terms of difficulty and accessibility—
which means tons of explorers attempt it.

And yet, despite the sheer number of challengers, even Shibuya Dungeon remains unconquered.

It’s an underground labyrinth beneath Shibuya Station.
People often joke that Shibuya Station itself is already a maze—
so why the hell did a dungeon appear under it?

Because of its location, the Explorer’s Association branch and the dungeon’s entrance are set up at the deepest level of Shibuya Station.
Still—whoever made this thing, why build a dungeon inside a dungeon?

Well, who or why dungeons exist has always been one of the world’s great mysteries.

“Today, I’m taking on the lower floors of Shibuya Dungeon for the first time!”

As soon as I enter the dungeon,
I hear a loud, excited voice from a distance.

Lately, whenever I go dungeon diving,
I keep running into people talking to themselves like this.

What the hell are they even doing?
Talking to yourself in a dungeon only attracts monsters.
There’s literally no upside to it.

“The lower floors are called the ‘unknown zone,’
but don’t worry—I’ll be fine!
Nobody else has streamed from the lower levels of Shibuya Dungeon, so I bet you’re all curious, right?”

The lower floors…? She must mean the deepest sections of the dungeon.

In dungeons, floors are categorized by depth,
and an explorer’s rank determines how deep they’re allowed to go.

The classification varies by dungeon and country,
but in Shibuya Dungeon, it’s divided like this:

Floors 1–10 → Uppermost Floors
Floors 11–20 → Upper Floors
Floors 21–40 → Middle Floors
Floors 41–60 → Lower Floors
Floors 61+ → Deep Floors

That means I’m currently standing at the boundary
between the Middle and Lower Floors—the 40th floor.

“Alright then, let’s go!
Everyone watching, you’re witnessing history in the making—just kidding!”

As I half-heartedly think about all this,
something yawns beside me.

A large, wolf-like beast with golden fur,
lounging at my feet.

Like me, it looks completely uninterested
despite being on the final floor of the Middle Layer.

Why?
Because any monsters nearby are far too weak to be a challenge.

In fact—
my shikigami looks even more bored than I am.
It was just fighting monsters a few minutes ago,
but now it’s lying around like it has nothing better to do.

“Wanna head back?”

At my question, the wolf closes its eyes and rumbles softly…
Then, suddenly, it springs to its feet—
ears twitching, alert.

And before I can react,
it dashes straight toward the stairs leading to the Lower Floors.

…Seriously?
Leaving your master behind?

I swear, out of all my shikigami,
this one is the most stubborn—
but I can’t exactly leave it alone.

At this point, it’s basically a pet.

“Guess I have no choice…”

I sigh.
I can’t just let my shikigami run off unsupervised,
so I slowly start following after it.

This time of day—a weekday evening—
is when dungeons are at their least crowded.

Even if my golden wolf runs around,
it probably won’t attract much attention.

Besides, dungeons are full of bizarre-looking monsters.
Compared to the abominations lurking in the Lower Floors,
a single wolf isn’t that strange.

It’ll be fine.
Nothing to worry about.

…Or so I thought.

That careless assumption would soon lead to a whole lot of trouble but at the time, as I yawned and walked, I had no idea what was coming.

 


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