Chapter 69
The hall was deathly silent.
It was like an audience waiting for a performer's presentation.
If only the silence had lasted forever.
Then perhaps this would have all been a dream, and I'd wake up on the morning of the conference, excited to head to the venue.
But as the audience gradually fell into stunned silence, reality forced itself upon me.
Everyone clenched their teeth and braced for "that moment," like plunging down Splash Mountain. And then it hit. Or maybe it erupted.
The rage of the "Four Emperors of Dungeon Academia" echoed through the hall along with the distorted mic audio.
"Some nobody from nowhere dares mock me?!"
Dr. Shita Chichigasky roared, shaking the civic hall.
The Doctor, who had been retorted to, instantly shrank back.
When a hulking man who looks like Marx from Capital blasts you with full-blown hostility, it's terrifying, no question.
Finally, he slammed the mic to the floor and stormed the stage, shouting in his own voice, throwing the venue into chaos.
Of course, Marx was escorted out.
But the Doctor had crumpled to the ground, legs completely giving out.
After that, Q&A was out of the question.
——Some time later
The Doctor sat slumped in the corner of the multipurpose room the conference had prepared as a waiting area.
He couldn't bring himself to touch the bento and tea provided by the catering.
"Why did I do something like that... It's over... everything's over..."
The Doctor let out a deep sigh.
He knew he had committed a taboo.
After all, he had lashed out with foul language no different from slander at *that* Dr. Shita Chichigasky.
Rebellion against authority must be done with resolve.
It should never be done in the heat of the moment.
(This wasn't how it was supposed to go...)
This time was supposed to be about infinite storage.
Next time would be about the evolution function.
And if there was one after that, the transformation function.
He would give a presentation for each.
If he had done so, he could have become the leading authority in the field of artificial pocket dimensions.
If he could propose the unexpected utility of pocket dimensions and how explorers could use them, then one day he might have joined the ranks of the chosen hundred scientists and participated as a presenter in the prestigious international conference known as the Dungeon Hundred.
The Doctor was catastrophically inefficient, but he had been thinking about his career in his own way.
But once you anger a heavyweight, nothing you do afterward matters.
(Surely, with just one word from Shita Chichigasky, I'll be kicked out of the Foundation. Blown away like dust. Even if not, a steel wall now stands in the way of promotion...)
After all, this was Dr. Shita Chichigasky we're talking about.
He wasn't just an underboob-obsessed geezer. He was a *remarkably* underboob-obsessed geezer.
And it wasn't just his fetishes that were impressive—his achievements as a scientist were equally outstanding. The transport device used to deliver supplies to supply bases inside the dungeon—a standard in modern dungeon conquest—was based on a theory proposed by none other than Dr. Shita Chichigasky.
He was in a completely different league from a low-achieving Doctor like himself.
Depressed, the Doctor left the multipurpose room.
He had lost his career as a scientist. It was definitively, obviously over.
It was as if he had sentenced himself to death; he no longer wanted to be at the conference venue.
(Maybe I should just go back to the dungeon camp...)
As he walked down the hallway of the civic hall, attendees streamed out of the hall.
It seemed he had overlapped with the end of the final presentation.
The Doctor shrank his shoulders and hid his face behind his bag as he passed by the departing attendees.
"That presenter was amazing, huh?"
"Yeah, that person left the biggest impression today."
(Ahh... I wanted to be admired like that too...)
He felt jealous of whoever had left an impression on the attendees' hearts.
(Maybe I should've picked a better research topic... then I wouldn't be feeling so utterly miserable...)
"Oh yeah, the third presenter... what was their name again?"
"Uhh... huh? What was it? It's not even listed in the program... They were the one who presented on infinite storage in pocket dimensions though..."
The Doctor flinched and stared at the backs of the young people who had passed by.
As the Doctor stood still in the hallway, more and more attendees walked past him.
It was as if they didn't even see him—no one paid him any attention as they briskly walked away.
"Today's VIP was the Doctor of pocket dimensions, right?"
"I couldn't have talked back to that arrogant researcher like he did."
"His research has potential, and more than anything, it was bursting with originality."
"Totally. I felt his passion. Just... he picked the wrong enemy."
"I really hope one day he gets to prove that underboob-obsessed geezer wrong. That Marx guy's the worst... There are even dark rumors he steals other people's research behind the scenes."
"Hey, stop it, someone'll hear you."
The Doctor just silently watched the backs of the attendees as they passed.
Eventually, everyone had left the hall, and it became completely quiet.
The Doctor felt a gentle warmth blossom inside his chest.
The corners of his mouth lifted naturally.
He stepped back into the hall where he had presented just a few hours ago.
Everyone had gone home—there was no one here anymore.
Yet it felt like the echo of those shouts still lingered in the venue.
Those words the attendees had let slip might have been just idle chatter to them, but to the one who heard them, they were the greatest reward imaginable.
Swelling with the heat rising in his chest, he let out a deep breath—*buhahh*.
"Maybe... maybe I'll keep trying a little longer..."
The Doctor murmured softly in the now-empty hall.
"Hmph. 'Keep trying,' you say?"
"Y-You're... Dr. Gregorious Shita Chichigasky...!"
"Thanks for the full name, you scrap of a Japanese scholar."
Dr. Shita Chichigasky was suddenly standing right beside the Doctor.
He was flanked by two intimidating bodyguards dressed in severe black suits.
The bodyguards cracked their knuckles, and with their sunglasses, gave off an intensely dangerous vibe. It was five seconds before getting wrecked in Maji Sibaki.
"You really had the nerve to mock me earlier... I don't believe in leaving debts unpaid. I'll make sure you experience fear like the winters of my homeland, and that you'll never act high and mighty again."
"W-Wait, wait, wait, please, Dr. Shita Chichigasky...! We're scholars, negotiation through such barbaric methods is—"
"Fool. This isn't a negotiation. I'm simply saying I'm going to beat you to death because I don't like you."
"Hiiiii!?"
The Doctor was cornered against the wall.
"You can't possibly comprehend the struggle it took to attain this position. Not someone like you, who's done nothing with all his years."
"I-I... I...!"
"Hm? What's wrong, scrap? Got something to say? Regretting wasting your life and growing old without accomplishing a thing?"
"I... I haven't done... nothing... you're wrong...!"
"Hah. Pathetic. All mediocrities say that. Back in school, you spoke of grand dreams, but as adulthood approached, you began hiding behind self-deprecating words like 'know your limits,' then gave up, did nothing, ate, shat, slept, aged like you did, looked back on your life, and only then realized you'd accomplished nothing. You're a textbook case. No—worse. Because you never gave up. You kept flailing and struggling and still achieved nothing. That's even more disgraceful. And so, you tried to lash out at a successful genius like me, someone who gets recognized. I can understand the urge, but that's truly pathetic, Doctor."
Dr. Shita Chichigasky's eyes gleamed sharply.
His gaze was like a raptor hunting its prey.
This man, Dr. Shita Chichigasky, was whispered to have crushed countless inventors and stolen their results.
No one knew the truth.
No matter how much you investigate, no clues ever appear.
But at that moment, one thing was certain: Dr. Shita Chichigasky had glimpsed immense potential in the future technology of pocket dimensions—and burned with an overwhelming, almost feverish lust toward the Doctor.
"Hmph, he's about to break. Once again, everything goes just as I planned."
Dr. Shita Chichigasky turned the dial on the wristwatch wrapped around his thick, hairy arm. That strangely moving device was the activation switch for a certain anomalous substance (Anomaly).
The name of the anomalous substance (Anomaly) was "Puppet Show."
It possessed mental attack capability, and once the target's mind was broken, it would plunge them into "brainwashing."
"Scrap, no one has any expectations for your research. It has no value whatsoever. No—in fact, your forty years meant absolutely nothing. Admit it."
(Tch... If I'm going to suffer anyway, then I'll... I'll protect my beliefs...!)
"I never gave up on my dream!"
"......What?"
"Is giving up really so admirable?! Is cleverly stacking up achievements really that great?!"
"......Kill him. The nerve of this pathetic insect. To mock me twice."
"I did it! I never gave up, and that's why I touched infinity——"
A fist slammed into his face with tremendous force.
The Doctor sank to the floor.
The men in black exchanged glances.
"Kill him, you lot. I've never felt so disgusted before."
"Are you sure about this, Doctor?"
"I don't care. I've already used the 'Butter of Aversion.'"
"No, I mean, about killing him..."
"Can't you understand when I say kill him?! We can rummage through the research data later!"
The Doctor held his reddened nose and exited the hall.
He stumbled from the door into the corridor.
Cold sweat poured down like a waterfall.
He tried to stand, to run away.
But his legs gave out and he couldn't rise.
"S-Someone, p-please, help me!"
"It's useless, scrap. No one's coming to save you. The surrounding people have all been driven off using psychic anomalous substances."
(Ah, this is bad... I'm really going to be killed...!)
Simply put, it was checkmate.
There was no point in even discussing the power gap.
The most the Doctor could do was throw the ballpoint pen he'd received as a participation gift.
"Ah, Doctor."
But it's precisely in such hopeless situations that miracles occur.
A hero appears.
The Doctor turned toward the voice.
He was standing there.
Sunglasses, a dark brown coat, and a duralumin case.
It was Akagi Hideo.
"I've been looking for you, Doctor. I thought I'd show you something good."
"Chii chii chii."
"Gii."
"Y-You... Finger Man...!"
The Doctor's eyes welled up with tears at the friend who had arrived in the nick of time.