No to Being the Suffering Heroine!

The creator of the doppelganger, crushed to death by the calamity he summoned himself.

The owner of this journal was objectively and subjectively a total washout, but it seemed he had some impressive skills as a researcher.

I mean, he managed to create the threatening monster known as a doppelganger all by himself in a place that wasn’t even a proper research facility.

In other words, this journal probably holds significant historical and magical value.

“I wonder how much I could get if I sold this journal to the Magic Tower?”

I carefully wrapped the fragile bundle of papers in cloth and stored it safely inside my backpack.

“Umm… Hilde. About that journal… is it really okay to sell it…?”

However, Friede seemed a bit hesitant about selling this ‘Doppelganger Research Journal’ to the Magic Tower.

“Why, is there some problem?”

“I’m not a magician so I’m not sure, but… it does say how to create a doppelganger in that journal, right?”

“Well, I guess so?”

I can’t be 100% sure I can interpret the magical formulas recorded here.

If only Amy were here! She knew so much about such matters being a magician from the Magic Tower.

I heard she’d been living happily as an adventurer with Kikel ever since they moved their base to Levant… I hope they’re doing well?

I wish I could meet her again someday. We parted ways without even a proper goodbye due to the urgent situation.

“Hmm… wouldn’t that be dangerous?”

As I reminisced about old memories, Friede lightly tapped my shoulder and whispered.

“Dangerous?”

I stopped my hand, turned to look at Friede, who nodded and replied.

“If the magicians at the Magic Tower can reproduce the contents of that journal… then they might be able to create doppelgangers, right?”

“It’s possible, I guess?”

I couldn’t say for certain whether it was possible for the wizards of the Magic Tower to recreate doppelgangers based on this research journal.

What the wizards at the tower could or couldn’t do is really only known to them.

“If it’s possible, isn’t that way too dangerous…? I don’t think the Tower would use doppelgangers for good purposes.”

“Yeah, they definitely wouldn’t.”

Now that I think about it, that really would be dangerous.

The higher-ups at the Tower would probably think of using that to eliminate anyone who stood in their way.

…Hmm, I should hold off on selling this research material.

If I do sell it, I should at least destroy the core materials for creating doppelgangers and sell only the rest.

Even if that means the value drops significantly… well, I guess I’ll just have to live with it.

It’s a whole lot smarter to get a bit less money than to hand over an ultimate assassination weapon to the Tower.

◆◆

After carefully securing the research journal, I searched the lab thoroughly.

Maybe it was because the spatial magic had gone wild, but it was hard to find anything in good condition, lab and all. Still, I managed to find some things.

A bundle of gold coins from demons occasionally found in dungeons, a bunch of rusty keys, and some experimental tools like scalpels, awls, and saws made from rare metals.

Overall, not a bad haul.

I was slightly disappointed that practical items like weapons, armor, or magical tools from demons didn’t show up, but oh well.

“I can sell these at the blacksmith’s… and this key is probably a jail key, right?”

“That would be it. Though with how rusty it is, it’s useless at this point.”

Friede looked at the bundle of rusty keys as if it were trash.

I had to agree, it did look like trash.

The crimson rust clinging to it was so lumped up that I had serious doubts it would even fit in a keyhole.

– Kwaga-gagagak!

Ah, it fits!

As I tentatively shoved the first key into the lock of the iron door leading down, it let out a metallic sound like grinding metal as the rusty key sank deep inside.

Red powder poured out like a homeless person’s dandruff from the keyhole. I twisted the key, pushing it inside to force the lock open.

– Kadeuk, kadeuk…! Kwajik, pjak!

The shattered lock fell away weakly, along with the blunt key that was now all chipped and battered.

“Oh, it opened?”

I turned to Friede, grinning proudly. Friede just let out a dry laugh.

“You can’t really say you opened it; you smashed it, don’t you think?”

“Either way, it’s opened!”

Sure, I obliterated the locking mechanism instead of unlocking it, but hey, it’s still opened, right?

As the saying goes, a skilled hand never worries about the tool. If you’ve got the strength, the state of the tool doesn’t really matter.

“…Let’s go down and check.”

Friede, who was looking at me with an expression that said she had a lot to say but was holding back, finally sighed and pointed to the other side of the iron door.

This probably leads to the last level of the dungeon, where the certificate said there was a monster known as a spear monster or something imprisoned.

“Yeah, let’s go down. Stay alert for surprises.”

“Yes. I’ll be careful.”

I pushed the now-broken iron door aside, revealing the narrow staircase leading down, and started walking down.

True to form for a path that hadn’t been managed even in the researcher’s lifetime, dust had piled up in the stairs, and all the lights embedded in the ceiling were broken beyond repair.

It felt as though time had passed an extra five hundred years in this place compared to the outside world.

Even after reaching the underground prison, it hadn’t changed.

The underground prison was a container-like space lined with metal from wall to ceiling and floor, completely devoid of light, and all six of the cells were eerily quiet.

“It’s eerily quiet.”

“Right? Is there really no one here…?”

Friede nodded as she shone her holy sword around the cells.

There was not even a trace of any living creature; not even the characteristic rattling of bones that undead make.

Not even the slightest sound of crawling bugs could be heard. It was as if the bugs that had thrived up top hadn’t even dared to step here.

“The journal might be right; they could all be dead from hunger…”

That might be true.

Even a kingdom’s strongest sword would weaken to the point of being beat by a child after being starved for half a year, so why would demons be any different?

While they could endure longer than humans due to their nature, it was evident they had probably been left to starve for centuries now, making it hard to believe they were still alive.

“Well, we’ll find out when we check.”

I walked up to the nearest cell door and kicked the metal door with all my strength.

– Kwaaaaang!

The loud noise echoed as the iron door crumpled. The locking mechanism and hinges shattered and exploded, sending the ruined door crashing down in a cloud of dust.

Inside the narrow space that looked to be about four pyeong, a shriveled corpse was curled up in the corner, devoid of any furniture like a toilet or bed.

Both arms were tied behind the back, fused with rusty metal, and the legs were hollowed out as if they had been chopped off below the knees.

In life, they probably crawled on the floor using only their thighs with their head shoved down… until they eventually starved to death when their meals stopped.

Did they try to break out by ramming their head against the door? The skull was so cracked it looked like it had crumbled, and dried bloodstains covered the area near the doorframe.

If they weren’t a demon, I might have felt a pang of sympathy at the sight.

Well, that researcher did at least one good thing.
Feeding those wicked demons torturously until death could earn them a medal from the Goddess’s Church if they heard about it.

Of course, since he was a demon himself, they’d probably just present him with the full set of special interrogation procedures instead of a medal.

◆◆

The same grim fate awaited the other four cells from the second to the fifth.

In the second cell, there was a metal pillar connecting the ceiling and floor, with chains and piles of skulls scattered around, indicating that a sinner had been bound there.

A brutal punishment indeed. They probably couldn’t sit or lie down till they died; they had to stand chained up.

They wouldn’t have been able to touch food without someone feeding it to them, had to sleep standing, and likely had to handle their bodily functions right there.

In short, that corpse was probably stuck in a pile of its own waste.

Right now it might be turned into some kind of coal dust, but when that demon perished, I’d imagine it was still fresh… Ugh, better not think about that.

Imagining somebody suffocating under piles of waste made me uncomfortably nauseous.

In the third cell, two corpses were crammed inside; perhaps they died fighting each other or while trying to mate, they were stuck together in death.

The fourth cell contained the corpse of a dead slime. I never knew slimes could starve to death.

It seemed it had come through the feeding opening to devour the prisoners… but it couldn’t pull itself back out and thus starved to death, which was quite the slime-brained intelligence.

The fifth cell had collapsed and was blocked.

Whoever was inside had turned to pancake ages ago. There was no need to dig through the rubble to find out.

And at last, the sixth cell.

Was the spear monster or whatever imprisoned here? The thick lock was three times stronger than those in the other cells—

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