Raising the Lowest-Ranked Adventurer, the Heroic Girl – Wasn’t I Just a Substitute Old Man?

Volume 3 Chapter 23 - The possibility of 'worst-case scenario'



Raising the Lowest-Ranked Adventurer, the Heroic Girl – Wasn’t I Just a Substitute Old Man?


Volume 3 Chapter 23    The possibility of ‘worst-case scenario’


“That…?”


“…Octopus?”


“No, not really…”


“Jellyfish?”


“I said it might be a mistake…”


Upon arriving, it turned out that Miyano’s initial perception was not mistaken. A monster was floating in the sky.


However, its appearance was more akin to that of a jellyfish rather than an octopus.


It was a jellyfish with a deep reddish-purple body, its numerous tentacles swaying gently. This was the irregular form.


In terms of size, it was around fifty centimeters or so.


Octopuses and jellyfish do share some similarities as general features, and considering the situation of being in the rain and only seeing the silhouette, it wouldn’t be surprising to mistake them.


However, upon hearing the words from the team, Miyano seemed embarrassed.


Regardless of whether it was an octopus or a jellyfish, since there was an enemy present, our actions wouldn’t change. The first step was to observe the enemy.


Either the enemy hadn’t noticed us or it had a non-aggressive nature, as it didn’t make any move to attack.


Therefore, while remaining cautious, we carefully observed the floating jellyfish-like monster.


“This just doesn’t make sense, no matter how you think about it…”


“Doesn’t make sense… Are you referring to the lack of connection we expected?”


“Yeah. I can’t see any connection between the original earthworms in this dungeon and that flying octopus—now jellyfish.”


For the time being, we observed for about three minutes, but the jellyfish simply floated in the sky without taking any action.


In fact, it seemed to be slowly taking damage from the rain of candy, so it might eventually die without us doing anything.


“For now, let’s get a little closer—huh?”


Just as we were considering getting closer to confirm its reaction, the jellyfish started to move.


The jellyfish manipulated its tentacles and grabbed one of the candies falling from the sky, then brought it towards its canopy, presumably its mouth.


And then—


“It split?”


The jellyfish, after consuming several falling candies from the sky, trembled and contorted its body in a distorted manner, then detached the protruding section formed by the distortion.


And from that detached section, tentacles emerged, similar to what could be called the main body.


The newly born part had fewer tentacles than the main body, but they would likely multiply in the future.


I vaguely remember that jellyfish scatter something like seeds around themselves, which then go through several stages of growth. But based on what I just witnessed, it seemed closer to a slime in nature. It was probably replenishing its magical energy by consuming the candies.


Slimes have a semi-substantial body formed by magic, and they absorb magical energy, undergo division and regeneration…


“Wait, hold on. No way, could it be?”


As I pondered that far, an unpleasant expectation crossed my mind.


“Igami-san? What’s wrong?”


Miyano called out softly, but my thoughts were too occupied with what to do next, leaving no room for composure.


What should we do? What is the best course of action?


“Initiate an attack. Be ready to respond immediately if anything happens.”


Thinking that we needed more information to make a decision, I called out to Miyano and the others without waiting for their response and unleashed a water magic attack towards the jellyfish.


It was a truly light attack, with the power equivalent to being hit by a hundred-kilogram baseball. It was quite weak for an offensive magic spell used by a mage.


However, the jellyfish’s body was so fragile that even my attack could chip away at it.


My water magic, upon colliding with the jellyfish, scraped off a portion of its body, causing it to disappear.


Some slimes have the ability to nullify magic by absorbing its magical energy, but it seemed this jellyfish didn’t possess such a skill.


However, the part of its body distorted by the magic attack quickly regenerated and returned to its original state.


…Does regeneration differ from splitting in terms of conditions?


When the jellyfish split earlier, it began consuming the candies, which were clusters of magical energy around it. But this time, during its regeneration, it didn’t exhibit such behavior.


In other words, regeneration seems to be automatic, while splitting might be a voluntary action.


Though it’s helpful to understand this, if it can regenerate automatically, defeating it with ordinary attacks alone would be impossible.


The problem then becomes how much damage we need to inflict to defeat it.


I think if we can eliminate about eighty percent of its body, it should die… but then again, it’s a monster.


Honestly, monsters have such mysterious ecologies that you can’t tell until you try.


“…Abe. Can you kill it in one strike?”


“One strike?”


“Yes. Turn its entire body into charcoal, or even better, leave no trace at all. Ensure a definitive kill without expending all your energy. But only one, and make sure not to disturb the underground moles.”


Abe nodded at my words and promptly acted, using a super-high-temperature flame compressed into a spherical shape to incinerate the jellyfish.


Regeneration… none at all.


“Indeed, it won’t regenerate.”


I’m relieved. If it could come back to life even from ashes, it would be hopeless.


The only thing left to know is how much damage it takes to kill it.


“I have one more request… Can you gradually burn its body?”


“Gradually?”


“Yes. It can regenerate. I want to confirm how much damage it takes to kill it. Can you do that?”


“Hmm… Understood.”


Though it’s an unfamiliar situation, with full manual control instead of our usual contact-based semi-automatic activation, Abe still followed my request and gradually burned away the jellyfish’s body, leaving about seventy percent of it charred—excluding the tentacles.


“If we reach this point, it should die.”


With about seventy percent of its body gone, the jellyfish swayed weakly and fell from the sky, crashing heavily onto the ground. It seems to be dead.


However, when I say it dies at this point, it also implies that it won’t die unless we reach this extent.


A jellyfish that splits and doesn’t die until about seventy percent of its body is destroyed.


It only possesses the ability to regenerate and split, without any attacking power or hostile intentions, perhaps.


I can understand why I didn’t perceive it as a threat.


But it’s an enemy troublesome enough to make me click my tongue involuntarily.


“Stay on high alert, everyone. Asada, Miyano, leave that behind. Let’s move forward a bit.”


I gave instructions for Asada and Miyano to discard the containment units they were carrying, as I couldn’t just leave this creature alone.


However, Asada, perhaps because Abe easily defeated it despite the irregularity, looked at me with a puzzled expression.


But Miyano, although appearing different from her usual self, furrowed her eyebrows and heightened her vigilance, just like me.


“What’s the matter? You seem so tense. To the point of leaving this behind—”


“You saw its split earlier, right?”


In a slightly frustrated tone, I interrupted Asada, who seemed to be struggling to understand the situation, and began speaking.


“I did see it, but…”


“It took us thirty minutes to get here. At the very least, that monster had been here for that amount of time… But if a creature capable of splitting every few minutes was left unattended for thirty minutes, what do you think would happen?”


“What do you mean, could it be…!”


While we observed it for only about three minutes, that jellyfish split during that time.


If it splits once every three minutes, it means it would have split ten times in thirty minutes.


And even if we were to return to the guild to report this and hurry back for the extermination, it would take several hours, considering it took us four hours to get this far. We could return faster if we rushed, but it would still take several hours.


How many times would they split during that time? How much would they multiply?


In the worst-case scenario, there’s a possibility that they could overflow from the gate while we’re away reporting.


Imagine if that were to happen. If even one of them survives outside the gate, they will multiply exponentially from there.


If it comes to that, it would be nearly impossible to eradicate them, and it could be considered a crisis for humanity.


Of course, that’s purely the worst-case possibility, and it’s not to deny the presence of wild imagination.


In reality, I don’t think they would immediately overrun everything once they’re outside the gate. After all, they split by absorbing magical energy, and the raindrops here contain magical energy for replenishment.


However, earlier they consumed raindrops—substances filled with magical energy for recovery. But what if they could replenish their magic not only from inanimate objects but also from living creatures, including humans?


Since they’re not currently attacking us, it’s uncertain if they’re capable of such a thing, but it would be overly optimistic to assume they can’t.


The “worst-case” scenario I imagined earlier is dangerously close to becoming a reality.


“Let’s go. Stay vigilant.”


Why is it that I always end up tangled in these troublesome situations?



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