Isekai Rebuilding Project: Volume 1 Page 2

  “Wise choice of comprehension. Now, it seems we’ve reached our destination while we entertained ourselves with idle chatter.”

  Close to the horizon I could see a pretty intimidating gate to a city. The wall that seemed to enclose the entire city was just as intimidating.

  “That’s Lishua, the royal capital of the Azur Kingdom.”

  “Big city. I wonder if they have some good cuisine.”

  I don’t think I’m the only one who first looks forward to food when traveling. When I visit a place for the first time, I want to start off by getting some good food.

  “May not be a delicacy for you, Eiji. You can eat rice here,” the dragon said, with half a chuckle.

  “They have rice.”

  “They do. Silver rice, at that.”

  “Silver rice...”

  I nearly laughed at Tiamat’s old-fashioned vernacular, when my face stiffened halfway through. In other words, purely white rice. Anyone from modern-day Earth may wonder what the problem is, precisely because they live in the modern day. Even in Japan, commoners mostly ate brown rice until the 1930s. And bam. There’s white rice available in a medieval fantasy world.

  “Eiji. Let me repeat. This is a world turned Waya by the Japanese.”

  3.

  Waya. A regional word from Hokkaido, my home province, that means a state of utter chaos. It was pretty surreal to hear a dragon speak the Hokkaido dialect, but not as surreal as the things taking place in this country. White rice in a medieval fantasy world? Where to start...?

  “You want me to change things back to how they were...?”

  “You can’t,” Tiamat replied with a swift declaration. With a look, I pried her for an explanation.

  “Once lives have been enhanced, no one will accept the inconveniences of their former lives. You’re familiar with that, Eiji.”

  “...You got me there.”

  It’s true. I had lived my whole life with modern technology. I couldn’t go back to live in the caves. I want to drink cold beer; I want to take clean baths; I want to live in a comfortable house. I want to easily gain information through my electronic devices, and I want to be able to get food or snacks whenever I want. The same sentiment must hold true for society as a whole. This becomes apparent during power outages, for example. They illuminate how much modern civilization depends on electricity, and how modern-day humans can’t live without it.

  After the 2011 Tohoku earthquake and tsunami, electricity in Japan was scarce. It was only natural, since the production of nuclear power, which was a major contributor, had been practically halted. More natural ways of producing electricity had been spotlighted in the media, but those weren’t enough to make up for the loss of nuclear. Despite our predicament, how many Japanese people spent their lives consciously preserving energy? I surely was not one of them. Just as Tiamat pointed out, I couldn’t stand to lower my quality of life.

  As my occupation called for it, I’d listened to some concerned citizens from time to time. One such time happened when I was still being called a rookie. I believe they had come in to ask questions about their taxes. Saying their business wasn’t doing well, so they couldn’t pay their taxes, or something like that. After the bubble popped, the Japanese economy had been in a steady decline with no indication of that changing.

  After listening for a while, assuming that this must be a common concern, they said something that stunned me. Apparently, no matter how much they tried, this couple could not live off of anything less than about 400,000 yen a month. The thought crossed my mind to give them a head-butt over the counter. At the time, my first salary out of college was about 160,000 yen a month. After insurance, taxes, etc., I was left 140,000 yen or so each month. How could they need nearly three times the amount of my salary to survive a month? They ate as much as they wanted, played as much as they wanted, and claimed that they were being frugal. To top it all off: “Must be nice to work for the government. You live off of our taxes,” they said. Dammit. Just remembering it makes my blood boil.

  “Come back down, Eiji. Where are you floating off to?”

  “My bad. I just remembered something infuriating.”

  “I thought it was supposed to be something funny. A new use for colloquialism, I see,” Tiamat said, kind of distant from me, as I was unleashing my anger against the innocent ground of the Azur Kingdom.

  “So it’s difficult to downgrade your life. I get the point.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  At the end of the day, you can’t sleep in your baby crib once you’ve grown out of it. It seemed impossible to force the people of this world, who had tasted modern-day technology, back to their old ways.

  “Unless we blow it all up, or something.”

  “Same goes for Earth. If all technology were to return to dust, people would be forced to be cavemen again.”

  “It would be easier here than on Earth. The knowledge of technology is still hoarded by the select few.”

  “That’s a weird comparison. It’s not something I can accomplish, anyway.”

  It would be difficult to rob the world of knowledge that had already been made public. If information was being kept close to the chest of a select few, killing those few would be an option. Except that was impossible. A feeble bureaucrat like myself had no combat skills to do so. Even if I did, I didn’t want to kill anyone.

  “Hm. I know. That’s why I don’t know what your next step is yet, Eiji.”

  “Thought so...”

  Things weren’t so easy. The god on-site apparently wanted it fixed. How could I fix it? I didn’t even know what state the world had to be in to be deemed fixed.

  “First, we need to find out what problems are occurring here,” Tiamat said, with a big yawn.

  It’s only natural, but there was a security check when entering the city.

  “Young man. From where have you hailed?” a soldier asked, holding a spear. He must have been one of the guards. I would call him a burly man with a shapely mustache, but he was shorter than me. Just about 175cm, I figured. I didn’t know the details, though, as I didn’t have any special abilities that allowed me to accurately assess one’s height, weight, or bust size. In any case... ‘young man?’ After the age of thirty, it’s not often that one is called young. In fact, I was on the cusp of ‘middle age.’ Perhaps in nine years...

  “We are travelers. We came from...”

  “The Dragon Realm. I am Tiamat. This is Eiji.”

  “Ah. A Hermit in the flesh. Forgive me.”

  “Mm.”

  Tiamat returned a light bow. I interpreted the quick look she gave me to mean ‘leave it to me.’

  “Ordinarily, we remain detached from the lower realm, but the Azur’s flourishment has piqued our interest. I humbly request permission to enter,” she declared with eloquence, boasting an impressive attitude. Her dragon body added to the intimidation factor, too.

  “In that case, you are most welcome here. Please fill out these columns here, Master Hermit.”

  The soldier, pleased by the compliment of his nation, showed us to what looked like voting booths. He gave us each a piece of paper and a pen.

  Hold on a minute. What time period on Earth did this world equate to? While the paper was primitive, this kind of paper didn’t become common in Japan until the Meiji period, or after 1868. As for the pen, this type that contains its own ink wasn’t invented until the 1800s. It just seemed like... things were thrown together sloppily just to eliminate some inconveniences in life.

  That was my thought process as I faced the piece of paper. I was tasked with filling them out, as Tiamat’s hands / paws / talons weren’t suited for a pen. I filled them out one by one; it seemed I had no issue reading and writing the language of this world.

  “Oh. How old are you, Tia?”

  “No idea. I never had a custom to keep track of my age, either.”

  “Really... Oops...”

  It’s possible that Tiamat was created at the moment of my inter-wo
rld travel, but I couldn’t put down ‘age: 0.’ Could I turn these in partially blank?

  “No problem, sir. These are formalities.”

  I gave the soldier a pleading look, and he returned a big nod of approval. Although I couldn’t help but think that they should probably maintain a front, especially if these were formalities, I was not about to go poke a wasp’s nest.

  With a fake smile, I handed over the papers with good portions of them left blank.

  “Oh, you are 31, Master Eiji! I would have guessed that Hermits age differently than us!”

  He was surprised, for some reason. Is there a problem with the fact that I’m thirty, huh? Is there?

  “I can’t believe you are a whole ten years older than I am!”

  Oh, okay... “Wait, ten!?”

  I couldn’t help but yelp. This soldier was 21? There’s no way he’s anywhere below his mid-forties. That was when a certain possibility crossed my mind.

  4.

  During the Edo period, the Japanese people appeared much older when compared to people of the same age today. It’s not like there’s accurate data, or photographs, so there is no way to verify this. The life expectancy data doesn’t help either, since the high infant mortality rate lowers the mean. The infant mortality in 1899, when we do have data from, was more than 15%. In other words, only about eight out of ten people lived past the age of five. That was in the 32nd year of the Meiji period. These numbers would not have been better back in the Edo period.

  In 1891 (24th year of Meiji), life expectancy was about 44 years. It’s worth noting that the life expectancy of a particular year is not the mean of the age of people who died that year, but the average lifespan of the people born that year. Which meant that, if they were born in 1891 in Japan, men would live 42.8 years and women would live 44.3 years on average.

  So did no one live past the age of fifty? Of course, some people did. There were always people who lived longer lives than expected. However, it’s also true that they didn’t live as long as modern-day people in Japan. At age fifty, one was considered to be of old age. In the example of Natsume Soseki, who has relatively well-preserved photographs... How old does he look in his famous portrait? The one used on an iteration of the 1000 yen bill. By the way, he passed away at the age of 49.

  Back to the Edo period. First of all, the health of the average person was inferior to today. Foods that build strong muscle and bone were hard to come by. Everyone worked hard labor without any skin care products or makeup. Who knows how true this is, but there is even a theory out there that people in the Edo period looked two decades older, when compared to someone of the same age in modern day. Considering this, maybe it’s not too outlandish that I thought this 21-year-old soldier was in his mid-forties.

  “How wonderful, Master Hermit. You must live much longer than us, I’m sure.”

  “...We’ll see about that.”

  I decided to give a vague response. If the life expectancy of these people was forty years, mine was double that. I didn’t think that’s something I wanted to bring to light during small talk.

  “Then, please enjoy your stay in Lishua.”

  The soldier accepted our papers, and held up his lance for us. What a nice young man.

  “It seems you’ve been wandering deep into your thoughts since earlier,” Tiamat said, as we were walking down the main street.

  “Yeah, like that soldier’s age...”

  “About how he looked older than you?”

  “Something like that...”

  Of course I had a few thoughts about it. I was a resident of the modern-day real world, and he’s in a fantasy world. I guess the only difference between us was how progressed each of our societies were. Still, I couldn’t brush off the fact that the person I had just spoken to expected to die twice as early as I did.

  “Hm. Since he looks that old at twenty or so, you don’t think the women will be lookers, either.”

  “Wait. Wait wait wait wait! That’s not right! How did you reach that conclusion!?”

  “Hm?”

  The dragon crooked its neck. It was not cute.

  “I have a fiancée!”

  “You know. A side chick. Or Resort Lovers.”

  “Nasty! And I don’t get the second one!”

  “A hit single from 1989.”

  “How the hell...!?”

  At the time, I was three years old.

  “A song that epitomizes the height of the economic bubble. The phrase ‘Resort Lovers’ became less and less used in Japan after the bubble burst. Now it’s obsolete...”

  “Who asked you for the trivia...?”

  This dragon really does know a lot of crap. I guess this is an example of the useless knowledge implemented in her. So utterly useless.

  “Don’t sweat it. We’re not of this world, anyway. No good will come from being sentimental here.”

  This little... Did she only make the absurd proposal to get my mind off of the aging thing? I wasn’t expecting that.

  “...I owe you one, Tia.”

  “Make sure to include some interest when repaying it.”

  “All righty.”

  Just as in numerous fantasy stories, the city of Lishua hosted an Adventurers’ Guild.

  “Naturally. Titles aside, the formation of unions by those in the same industry are historically inevitable.”

  Tiamat had a good point. Whether you’re an adventurer, or handyman, or Mr. Fix It, or whatever, trying to earn contracts on your own was no easy task. Especially when advertising (in our modern sense of the word) was nonexistent. People could barely advertise their occupation to those in town. Those with their own shop or office space could bring in customers by putting up a sign, but I’m sure that’s unattainable for most. On the other hand, that’s why a sign for a business guaranteed a certain level of trustworthiness.

  “They couldn’t get contracts on their own, so they formed a guild to make that process easier. Yep, seems like a natural course.”

  “If the guild had formed naturally, you’d be right on the mark,” Tiamat said with sarcasm, as she slapped her tail against the ground.

  Our first destination: the Adventurers’ Guild. Of course, we weren’t here to register as guild members, nor to look for any contracts.

  “Guess you’re right.”

  I shrugged. There was no way that an occupation like an adventurer would hold a vital part in society. Exploring dungeons, defeating monsters, gathering herbs, guarding travelers... It’s only in the world of fiction where people can make a living doing these kinds of things. The first is out of the question, and if someone with a certain level of strength is required to handle any of the other tasks, it’s already serious enough that a government agency, local or national, should be doing something about it. Each of them represents the presence of a threat close to civilization. Not something you’d want to trust a band of lawless fighters with.

  “I suppose it all starts with what an adventurer really is,” said Tia. Were they mercenaries? Speculators? Private eyes? Jacks-of-all-trade?

  “In any case, there’s not much demand for them.”

  With a chuckle, I opened the door to the guild. There were a few sets of tables and chairs in the large hall, and there was a bulletin board on the wall, surely for posting quests on. At the far end of the hall was a reception counter. A few groups were hanging out in the hall who must have been parties of adventurers. They were giving us less than friendly glances. I couldn’t deny that we were eye-catching: a man much taller than this world’s average walking in with a human-sized dragon. At this rate of clichés, I expected a thug or two to come up to us ready to start a fight. Sadly, all they did was watch. I had no desire to be the object of voyeurism, so it was just awkward. We approached the reception counter.

  “Excuse me...”

  “Are you here to file a quest? Or to register as a member?”

  A female employee greeted us with a gentle tone and friendly smile. A model receptionist.
She appeared to be in her early forties... so she must have been in her early twenties.

  “Well, neither, actually. We just have a few questions.”

  “What might they be?”

  She crooked her neck. A cute gesture unbecoming of a woman in her forties, but I then remembered that she must be in her twenties. The reality in front of me wasn’t clicking with my preconceptions.

  “We want to know how this guild came to be.”

  “I see...”

  She wore a puzzled expression, and I couldn’t blame her. There must not be too many people that come in and ask such a thing. Not that I would expect the receptionist to be able to tell us the whole story, anyway. Not so much from any lack of authority, but rather from the lack of knowledge. I would love to have her show us to someone higher up who’d know. Now, how to put it...

  “Lass. We are traveling Hermits. We are quite interested in how things are in the lower realm. That includes this guild. Won’t you call the Guild Master for us?”

  Tiamat came to the rescue, having seen that I was struggling.

  Wow. Way to wave the Hermit title in her face. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more reserved... I thought, as I am Japanese, and we Japanese believe humility is a virtue.

  5.

  “Hermits!? Pardon me, sires. Please wait here a moment.”

  The receptionist retreated to the back, apologetically. The magic word did wonders. Not only that, but some whispering started in the hall, too.

  “At times like these, don’t be coy when you don’t need to, Eiji.”

  We entered the gates of Lishua under the title of Hermits. Now that we’ve used the title once already, it didn’t make a difference how many more times we used it. In fact, it’s a selling point for our character; we might as well use it every chance we get. That’s a guide to job interviews too, by the way. Whether or not it was necessary here and now, it’s hard to say. Remaining silent, I shrugged. Even when made aware of it, it takes a long time to get out of an entrenched behavior.