I was trying to assemble the bone dragon’s bones by referencing a brachiosaurus restoration diagram, but too many pieces were missing, and far too many bones weren’t responding properly.
It was like mixing half airplane parts with car parts and complaining about why it wouldn’t assemble.
“Ah, you really know nothing about salamander paleontology?”
This was definitely a chicken bone.
No matter how much chickens evolved from theropod dinosaurs and are somewhat related, this was straight-up chicken bone.
And bizarrely, the chicken bones patched things up pretty well?
I had three pieces of dragon bone on hand, so I added those in.
It got a bit easier, but the restoration rate was still low.
[Are you planning to make me functional? It’s meaningless, though.]
“No, even so, having your head fall off mid-sentence and interrupt you is frustrating for me.
You keep blinking out every time your head drops.”
The Thread of Connection from the dragon bone fishing rod was especially helpful.
At least it connected things.
“It’s creepy, though? Downstairs, there were guys playing with human skulls like this. You’re doing something similar.”
“Hey, if worse comes to worst, I’ll boil it for broth and drink it. What’s the big deal.”
First off, this bone dragon guy claims he wants to die.
My plan is to boil him vigorously—drink the bone broth, then use the leftovers for weapon crafting.
If I let it hang like a snake, with my manufacturing skills, I could probably make a 1.5-meter bone club.
But since the joints don’t match anyway and it collapses, I’m just testing the fit for now.
Somehow, it feels like I could make a SkullGreymon.
“But you’re not going to attack?”
[In this state? I couldn’t even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to. You’ll understand when you get older.]
I asked because I was still wary, but he really seemed to lack any motivation.
Even for me, if I tried to do something and my arms or head kept falling off—then had to go reattach them—I’d feel drained too.
So I let it slide.
“Anyway, it looks like we need to add more bones.”
[Do as you wish. I don’t care if you use my bones for a fishing rod or boil them.]
If we’re talking about adding more bones…
“Perfect. Tonight’s dinner is chicken.”
[You must eat rice!?]
“Chicken with rice. Chicken nanban, chicken mayo rice bowl. Happy now?”
[Excellent.]
With approval from RiceCookerMan—who’s more of a rice nationalist than my mom—there were no objections.
“Hm, the meals that spirit makes aren’t bad, but…”
“I’m sick of it!”
“Ang, ang!”
All three otherworlders agreed.
Though unmentioned, the otherworlders—various races subdued by RiceCookerMan’s rice—owed him a great debt.
[How pitiful, not knowing the charm of taurine.]
“Hey, chicken has taurine too.”
[That’s what they say to hide good food—pushing easily obtainable stuff on animals while hoarding the best.]
This guy.
“Then starve, you jerk.”
[I’ll catch and eat mice. Do you want to see me come into this room chewing on a rat tail?]
That would be pretty horrific.
“Uh, then no need for cat food or fish? You’ll just eat mice from now on?”
[Cat food is tasty, though.]
He says mouse meat is bad but threatens to eat mice anyway.
So the chicken arrived—I ordered several.
I grabbed one and rang the bell for 202.
“Uh, why?”
“Here, eat some chicken.”
“Huh? Oh.”
She accepted it right away.
Of course, I plan to reduce her rent a bit, but cleaning the studio and sorting trash requires more effort than expected.
It seems okay to leave things messy, but there are shredded delivery boxes, plastic scraps from mice gnawing.
Hair residue, stains from spilled drinks while carrying tray coffee—and apparently some Chinese places still use real dishes, leaving them out carelessly.
The hallway gets dirty every other day.
There’s a cheap takeout coffee place nearby targeting college students—I get why the previous landlord grandpa was so obsessed with coffee.
“Chicken!”
“Don’t spill crumbs.”
The princess is eating well.
This is probably her first time eating chicken since those chicken burger crumbs in the dirt.
“Nyang! Ang.”
The dragon girl is devouring it too.
Her dog instincts are unstoppable—she’s still barking.
[No matter how you look at it, it’s not nutritionally great. Deep-fried in oil, and the batter is fundamentally carbohydrates.]
“Protein, idiot. If it tastes good, it’s all protein.”
If RiceCookerMan had a mouth, it’d be pouting a mile out—he looks that dissatisfied.
He’d love fried rice, though…
So we ate the chicken, deboned it, and connected those bones.
<Chicken-Fried Bone Dragon>
It became that.
“Try walking.”
[Uh, uuum.]
“Walk! You have to walk.”
The creaky bone dragon could now move.
[Is there a reason to walk bipedally? I’ve never done this before.]
“It’s temporary. I ordered something to replace your missing bones. We’ll make more proper ones soon.”
[But why bother keeping me alive when it’s troublesome? Killing me would let you gain skills based on your intelligence.]
“That’s uncertain—what skills you’d get. But if you teach me directly, I can definitely learn one for sure. And…”
[You’re wary of that Black Dragon, right?]
“Ah, yeah, that’s part of it.”
[I don’t particularly want to live, but I can’t forget the favor of helping with my rehabilitation.]
He’s touched just from attaching chicken bones—out of nowhere.
I have no idea how his emotions work.
[Could you soak or boil me in hot water with fire? Use my bones freely.]
“Uh… weren’t you going to help while alive?”
[The bones won’t disappear just from making broth.]
“Well, alright. Let’s boil it thoroughly. Hey, RiceCooker? You good?”
[I can generate ultra-high heat to open the lid.]
RiceCookerMan’s boiling ability is unmatched.
“You really want me to kill you?”
[If I wanted to live, wouldn’t I have attacked more?]
Obviously, even now it’s creaking so much it couldn’t.
As the bone dragon wished, I removed and separated the chicken bones.
Easy to distinguish—fried batter crumbs remained.
Then I put the bones in and boiled them.
[Ahh, refreshing…]
<Dragon Broth>
Boiling the bone dragon vigorously produced an extraordinary-labeled bone broth.
The maritime clan had gained rights to conquer the gate, yet brought back no spoils.
‘Go to the otherworld, hunt humans, level up fully, and return.’
‘Terraform the otherworld into a forward base for continuous human hunting and leveling.’
Who knows what the superiors or gods thought, but most volunteers for the gate expedition shared those ideas.
In a world where level was status, upward mobility was blocked.
Those ground into the lower class under the level system were ignored as bottom-tier and forced to live that way.
The maritime clan consisted solely of such beings.
Then the neighboring Blue Dragon defected to demons, converted its mana to black magic, turned black, and seized the clan.
The fish of the maritime clan rejoiced when the over-200,000-level Black Dragon descended—their king had become a crane, not a stick.
But the crane had wings yet showed no will to escape this well—and didn’t even eat them.
“Quiet!”
“But besides monitoring and harassing those succubus bitches, what can we actually do?!”
Complaints erupted even from the former clan leader Shark King and the anemone king handling the branch family.
Especially recently, when irresistible-smelling bait on hook and line appeared—mid-level cadres of the maritime clan were forcibly fished away to the otherworld, vanishing.
They’d been united in invasion zeal, but instead suffered counterattacks, threatening survival.
Yet their leader, the Black Dragon, still advocated caution—sending only crafted magic tools for attacks, and recently shifting to appeasement by threatening succubus girls then wooing the Nightmare Queen.
“Dragons don’t understand our feelings!”
“That thing’s level is high, so…”
The dragonkin’s close aide—the anglerfish merman who’d lost eyes but retained whisker senses from recent otherworld holy water injury—calmly persuaded the furious mid-levels.
“The opponent has the Nightmare Queen. A woman who might—or might not—handle even you all with tens of thousands of levels. The great king’s plan to isolate her via pardon is the best strategy.”
“No, then we have a way too.”
Anemone King suggested.
Shocking, but the maritime clan’s monsters—secretly treated as fodder by other demons due to low status, still ignored—found it extreme yet reasonable.
Then they solemnly proposed to the dragonkin.
“Great king.”
“Didn’t I say not to disturb?”
Even recovering from backlash after sending the bone dragon, the dragonkin continued magic research.
Since his takeover, the maritime clan lost all prior barbarism and belligerence.
As the weakest clan, the fish had honed aggression themselves—but the Black Dragon deemed it unhelpful.
“Why obsess over magic like that?”
“I plan to open another gate.”
“What?”
The dragonkin could attack directly but held back.
The Nightmare Queen could render him helpless via seduction, and that world had dragon-effective attacks.
Lately, he’d considered negotiating breakthrough like her.
But the cadres—harboring built-up resentment from the bottom—couldn’t stay silent amid his caution.
“Send me instead.”
Level 15,000, former maritime clan leader.
Shark King’s support.
No fish denied the Black Dragon’s rule due to overwhelming strength.
But the straightforward fish couldn’t all accept his multifaceted scheming.
“Difficult. Don’t say such things.”
The dragonkin dismissed Shark King and the lined-up fish, merfolk, sea creatures.
The wisest among them, Octopus King II, began logically persuading.
“The giant has likely reached level 2,000 or 3,000 by now.”
“Probably.”
“Then, with a few mid-levels prepared to sacrifice, we could overwhelm him. Send us. Your proclaimed invasion for leveling no longer aligns with us.”
Even if mid-levels fell to the giant now, he’d gain only skills—not levels.
Skills—at most twenty or so, considering slots.
They believed that.
“No, even with your sacrifices, victory isn’t guaranteed. Sure, the giant’s around 2-3,000 level. You’d stand a chance ganging up. But beside him is the Nightmare Queen.”
Shark King knelt his fin.
“What are you doing?”
“Then, great king.”
“What.”
“We—those resolved to conquer the otherworld—will forgo spawning.”
“What?”
“We will forgo spawning!”
“We won’t return alive!”
Behind Shark King, the gathered fish warriors were resolute.
Those with fin-arms or hands held swords and harpoons.
Those without brought sharp-toothed fish like largemouth bass or piranha.
Others were enveloped by the moray king.
“What nonsense is this?”
“If we forgo spawning, we can sufficiently handle the Nightmare Queen in a joint attack!”
The dragonkin asked in disbelief.
Can life forgo that so easily?
“Is that something you can do easily?”
“It’s possible! Show resolve!”
“Iyaaaa! We forgo spawning!”
“Kraaaaa. We will not spawn.”
The fish warriors unanimously demonstrated resolve—removing spawning organs with harpoons and toothed fish right before the dragonkin.
Not one hesitated.
This granted them all at least immunity to the Nightmare Queen’s charm.
Watching the maritime clan’s males serenely forgo spawning, the dragonkin nodded.
“I’ve seen your resolve well. Fine. I permit full invasion.”
He said that, but he was disgusted.
In other words, he couldn’t stand the sight.
‘Crazy bastards.’
The maritime clan—lowest tier, their fish citizens secretly fed to other demons for lacking levels, resentment piled…
And fish-headed idiots to boot.