My Refrigerator Turned Into A Dungeon Chapter 345

I Have A Problem

The midnight hour when even plants sleep. I was alone in the yard, repeating master’s forms. The only one watching this scene was Tarou, the dungeon-sensing dog, resting his chin on the ground with a bored look.

Swift footwork kicked up dust, illuminated by the moonlight. Only the sound of my steps echoed in the darkness, as my shadow stretched and wavered faintly tonight.

(…A Skill Tournant, huh?)

Basically, it’s the governnt’s PR strategy to create a trend like, “Dungeon Ability users are strong, skilled, and cool!” And through this, they want to mass-produce more of them.

Not a bad move. At least it’s better than squeezing defense budgets by raising taxes.

If they went the tax route, passing the bill and actually getting the money circulating would take way too long. Plus, what we need now isn’t fighter jets or missiles—it’s people. But in the current climate, how many would willingly beco Self-Defense officers when it’s nothing but hardship and hassle?

On top of that, the Stampede’s aftermath has tanked the economy, and cri—theft and whatnot—is getting worse.

If they slapped on more taxes to burden the people, even Japan could see riots like other countries. That’d an riot police getting deployed, further crushing morale and weakening national strength.

So, if lying and hyping up Dungeon Ability users gets people to fight monsters willingly, the governnt has it easy.

Overseas, experts say the next Dungeon Stampede is a looming threat, but if we thin out the dungeon monsters properly, we can soften the impact and achieve a smooth landing.

Well, I only just looked this up. Living in the countryside’s been too fun—I slacked on gathering intel.

Of course, managing Dungeon Ability users would be its own hassle.

But compared to a large-scale reorganization of the Self-Defense Forces after the second Stampede wrecked them, this’d be way cheaper. No matter how many Ability users get wiped out, the aftermath is all on them—personal responsibility.

(Still… that was a bad move.)

I’m talking about the Giant Crocodile Incident.

I stuck out way too much. The police must’ve marked after that, and I owe Edasaki-san from the Dungeon Counterasures Bureau for covering for with them. The Skill Tournant offer probably ca because of that debt.

Nobody said it outright, but they must’ve figured I was using the Bureau as a shield against the police. Back then, Edasaki-san had this knowing smile and roundabout way of talking when we spoke.

So, this timing? Probably ans, “We covered for you, so pay us back with this.”

(Sigh… But standing out never ends well for .)

Past experience says it’s either humiliating or paints a target on my back.

But still, part of thinks… maybe now’s different. Like so story’s protagonist, winning big, grabbing the prize money, celebrating with Rua and the others.

But after indulging in that sweet fantasy, I shake my head hard. No, no—I’m hiding a dungeon. What good does drawing attention do?

(Ward off, roll back, press, push, pluck, split, elbow, lean… Ward off, roll back, press, push, pluck, split, elbow, lean…)

The forms of the martial arts master I’ve been learning. Repeating the Eight thods and Five Steps of Tai Chi to calm my mind, but the Skill Tournant won’t leave my thoughts.

(What kind of skill users will show up…? Ten million yen prize… Ugh, but my registered skills are [ditation], [Art], and [Salt]…)

So, they expect to fight with just salt?!

Ugh, what do I do…? Normally, when I’m this torn, I’d hear the tiny salt god’s voice like, “Believe in the salt!” But this ti, no divine guidance…

I’m stuck in this weird limbo—half wanting to join, half dreading it. But Nina and Seruki said they’d cheer on, so maybe I should et their expectations and compete…

Agh, this is torture! Absolute torture, I tell ya!!