Who Decides Value – Part 1
Today I was working at Matsux Bariyu—one of the many small-scale dungeons scattered across Sapporo.
There were others too: Bikku, Kōpu, and so on.
Most were only one or two floors deep, easy enough for low‑rank adventurers to enter.
In Honshu, they had different names: Raifu, Ropia, and countless others.
I collected the trash at the entrance, and the monitor flickered on automatically, showing yellow dots scattered across the map.
I followed them, picking up garbage one by one.
Today’s trash was clearly human-made.
Plastic wrappers.
Bottles.
Cardboard.
Nothing “otherworldly.”
And yet, my mind kept drifting back to yesterday’s conversation.
The one that shattered everything I thought I knew.
Auri had said our world was a dumping ground for other worlds.
We were stunned.
He didn’t stop.
“In their worlds, these items are waste.
But in your world, they become resources.
So from their perspective, everything was functioning as intended.”
He paused.
“But the problem is the Calamity that occurred twenty years ago.”
Everyone in the room had gone pale.
Even if we were too young to remember it clearly,
everyone knew the disaster.
Auri continued:
“The connection between your world and the others has developed a malfunction.
It began small.
But over time, it accumulated.
Twenty years ago, it manifested as the first runaway event.”
He looked at us one by one.
“But even that runaway did not resolve the distortion.
It continues to build.”
He waited a moment.
“And soon, it will erupt again—
as a new disaster.”
The room fell silent.
A woman—the one who explained my and Mossan’s medical results—finally spoke.
“If… if the other worlds are the ones who connected to us,
shouldn’t they be able to fix it?
With their advanced technology?”
Auri nodded slowly.
“From your perspective, yes.
But the truth is simpler:
they did not anticipate this malfunction.”
He folded his arms.
“They can connect to your world unilaterally.
But they cannot observe your world freely,
nor repair physical distortions here.”
I felt anger rise in my chest.
They connected to us without permission.
Dumped their waste here.
Caused the Calamity.
And now they couldn’t fix it?
Auri noticed my expression.
“There is more,” he said.
He continued:
“In short, your world is on the verge of experiencing a disaster far greater than the Calamity.
A Great Calamity.
The probability is effectively one hundred percent.”
He tapped the board.
“And this Great Calamity will not only affect your world.
It will ripple into every world connected to it.”
He looked at me.
“That is why they are desperate for a solution.”
I clenched my fists.
“So you’re here because those other worlds sent you?”
Auri shook his head.
“My presence here is not due to their orders.
If I said ‘interest,’ it might irritate you.”
He paused.
“I am not from those worlds.
They cannot travel between dimensions.
They cannot interfere directly.”
He placed a hand on his chest.
“I am transferred here only partially—
a fragment of my existence.”
Then he looked at me.
“And thanks to the crystal you provided,
I can finally explain this situation to all of you.”
