That Time a Shut-in for 300 Years Continued to Make Antiques , but All of It Turned out to Be Cheat-Level Magic Tools - Chapter 0

“Are you kidding me? Buu?”

I couldn’t help but ask the pig-faced man before me. The answer he gave was shocking enough to warrant such a reaction.

Currently, I am in my home’s laboratory. It’s my field of expertise and has become a hobby of mine to create magical tools.

The laboratory is located deep underground in my mansion, specifically on the 15th basement level. One might assume such a deep underground room would be damp, but thanks to my many years of research, the humidity is perfectly controlled, and the ventilation, ingeniously integrated with wind magic, ensures a steady exchange of air, filtering out all unnecessary particles for a constantly clean atmosphere.

I have named this magical tool the Wind Magic Air Purifier, and thanks to it, spending long hours in the lab is no problem at all. The lighting is also well taken care of; during the day, sunlight is collected on the surface and transported down here, and at night, magical lamps light the interior.

Of course, there is no neglect in terms of water supply either. There is a clean lake near the mansion from which water is drawn, further filtered just to be safe, ensuring there are no issues regarding water safety.

Because of all these reasons, despite being creations of my own, the lab had become an extremely comfortable space to immerse myself in inventions.

Before I knew it, I had completed inventions numbering well into the thousands without once stepping outside or even wearing a watch, so I had no idea what time it was. That’s why I asked Buu, a member of the Warmal demi-human tribe, when it was.

The Warmal tribe is a humanoid species that walks on two legs and possesses the capacity for thought, but their appearance is closer to that of beasts. There is another similar species called the Bistia beast-people who are closer to the Huma human species, differing only in their ears and tails.

And Buu belongs to the pig-type within the Warmal tribe. Their intelligence is no different from humans, but their language is quite complex, and they were once mistaken for monsters.

Well, that misunderstanding was cleared up by myself and the companions I once formed a party with, and the young man from the village we helped at that time was him.

Afterwards, he insisted on thanking me somehow, and as a result, he ended up taking care of my daily needs. He was particularly skilled in cooking, especially pork sautés. Impressed by his cooking, I asked him to work at the mansion, and now he takes care of me.

In return, I provided him with living space, and he is free to use the surrounding fields and livestock barns as he wishes. It’s a give-and-take situation.

When I finally snapped out of my intense focus on my research, Buu had just come to collect the dishes after dinner, so I asked him, “What day and time is it now?”

Buu gave me a surprised look. He cooks daily and manages cleaning and laundry perfectly.

But I had been so absorbed in my research that I had not spoken to him in a while; I had almost unconsciously been eating the meals and sipping the prepared tea. He knows exactly when I want my meals and drinks. He might as well be called a butler. Though, to be honest, leaving the entire large mansion to him alone would be too much, so I also have a maid-type autonomous golem, nicknamed “Andmaid Mei,” helping him out.

After showing his surprised expression, he said to me, “It is now April 2nd of the Galileo year 1456.”

Yes, he did say that. Galileo is the name of the person after whom this world is named, something known by everyone.

The problem was the year. I was so shocked that I asked him again because I remembered the year being Galileo year 1156, April 2nd.

That means, while I had been secluding myself in this lab, 300 years had passed.

This was troubling. Sure, I had created over ten thousand magical tools, but 300 years? I had thought it had only been about three years, which was quite a shock.

300 years, 300 years… but wait a moment?

“Hold on, that doesn’t make sense. Your Warmal tribe’s average lifespan is about 100 years. Even the elves, known as the longest-lived species, have an average lifespan of around 300 years, barely. Of course, as a High Elf, I can live well over a thousand years, but still, it’s impossible for you to be alive and well after 300 years!”

I pointed out sharply with perfect reasoning. It seemed he intended this as a playful joke, but honestly, it was a poor joke.

However, he isn’t usually the type to make such jokes, but perhaps he was in that sort of mood.

“…Regarding that matter, I must tell you, I am not Buu.”

“…What?”

I gave a blank response, honestly confused by his statement.

“What are you talking about? Aren’t you Buu? This joke isn’t very funny.”

“It’s no joke. The Buu you are referring to is my great-grandfather.”

“What?”

I continued with an even more bewildered response. Honestly, I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. His grandfather? Did he just say his great-grandfather?

“If what you’re saying is true, then who are you?”

“Well, if you are referring to Great-Grandfather Buu, then I am Butan, his great-grandson.”

This was a shocking revelation. Unbeknownst to me, the butler serving me had been replaced by his great-grandson.

“Is that true?”

“Do I look like I’m lying?”

“Hmm…”

He looked at me with his round eyes, but his pig face made it hard to read his expression. Even if he really was a descendant, to me, they all had the same pig face. How could I have noticed the change from grandfather to grandson?

“Aaaaahhhh!”

“Oh, it seems you’ve finally understood.”

“Your hair!”

“Yes, I have hair.”

This was a shocking fact indeed. Depending on their base form, Warmal species vary in hair growth, but for pig-types, they typically lack hair, certainly not having any as long as head hair. Yet, here he was with hair.

If this was really Buu, it would be impossible. Whether it looked good on him or not was another question, but indeed, there was neatly styled black hair.

“Do you believe me now?”

“Mmm, it seems I must. But why the hair?”

“My father, his name was Buhin—”

“Is there a reason all your names start with ‘Bu’?”

“Not particularly, it’s just a habit. But does that matter right now?”

“No, continue your story.”

It was a pointless detail after all.

“My father Buhin actually got married.”

“What! And here I thought Buu was single!”

“Great-Grandfather Buu had long since taken a wife.”

“What!”

The fact was shocking. I had always thought of him as a bachelor, yet he had a wife all this time, and here I was without even a partner!

“Well, without a wife, neither my grandfather nor my father would have been born, nor would I.”

…Well, that makes sense.

“Continuing with the story, both my great-grandfather and grandfather married female Warmals of the pig type.”

“I think you should reconsider how you refer to your great-grandmother and grandmother.”

Well, they do look like pigs, after all.

“However, my father married a Huma human.”

“I see, so a human, what!?”

The shock nearly dislocated my jaw! A marriage between a Warmal and a human was unexpected.

It’s not strange considering they have the same number of chromosomes. I mean, if they do what’s needed, children will result—wait! Ah!

“Have you realized it now?”

“That hair is a result of that?”

Holding my jaw, I gave a sly grin.

“Well, with all that said, the one taking care of you now is me, Butan.”

“So, it was like that. I’m sorry I didn’t notice until now.”

“No worries, you haven’t noticed since my father’s time, and after his death, I was told to continue in his footsteps, for which I was trained.”

So that was the case… I suddenly felt guilty. And, he casually dropped that his father had passed… Three hundred years might make that inevitable.

“It seems I’ve stolen your freedom to choose your own future, I feel rather bad.”

“No worries, I’ve had quite a bit of freedom here, and the life in the mansion is comfortable. And I even got married, which makes me unbelievably lucky.”

“Really? If you say so, then, wait! Married? Married!?”

“Yes, I got married. Five years ago, to a daughter of the Bistia tribe, of the feline kind.”

He said it with a bashful smile. By the way, when I say ‘bombshell’, I mean it literally as a magical artifact filled with explosive magic, formally known as a magic bomb.

That aside, my feelings of guilt vanished! And a Bistia cat-girl? They’re famously adorable within the Bistia tribe! And here I am, who hasn’t even held a girl’s hand, let alone experienced romance!

Oh, well, spending 300 years secluding myself here probably led to that… I should have seized the moment back then, not being shy to hold hands with a comrade. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say.

But still—

“It seems that indeed 300 years have passed…”

I muttered thoughtfully. I was just a little too absorbed in my research. A normal elf might have noticed due to physical changes.

Elves stop aging visibly after reaching 18 for a while, but after 200 years, even they begin to age.

But I’m a High Elf. High Elves don’t age at all; our bodies remain in their prime, and I have an additional troubling trait.

Well, with that aside—

“What should I do now…?”

“Are you done with your research then?”

Butan reacted to my mutter. Research… that’s good, but hearing it’s been 300 years, I feel somewhat deflated.

“Maybe I need a break.”

“Then perhaps as a break, you could try working in the fields or taking care of the livestock?”

Hmm… Indeed, there are vast farming lands around the mansion, and livestock like cows, pigs, and chickens are well-kept.

My proud irrigation facilities allow rice, acquired from an eastern island nation, to grow well in paddies, and magical setups enable mass production of rice.

The chickens are raised on fresh, safe feed under perfect management, allowing us to consume their eggs raw.

From barley to wheat, everything is grown meticulously, making his homemade bread delicious. We also have a brewery, producing everything from beer to wine and whiskey.

Thinking about it, even without research, I wouldn’t lack things to do.

But still, a thought struck me.

—How has the life of the people changed after 300 years?

“Ah, I’ve made up my mind!”

“Oh? What will you do now?”

“Yes, I shall descend the mountain!”

“…If it’s for shopping, someone from the house can go.”

“Not that! I want to descend the mountain to see how the people are living!”

“Are you serious?”

Indeed, I was—