309 Is the bird in the cage happy or not?

After the teacher was carried away to Kuritani, no one spoke.

Everyone was silent, unsure what to do.

Yet among them, reactions divided into several categories.

One group wandered their gaze aimlessly.

Truly unsure how to proceed, they passively await events.

Another group directed their gaze toward Kudo.

These gazes varied: some carried blame, others expected Kudo, as class president, to lead the next steps.

The difference in tone between the two is obvious.

The final group, the majority, turned their gaze toward me.

Well, yeah.

If we're to move forward in this situation, that's my role.

I'd rather not be handed this responsibility, but...

Ah, uh.

Return to the seat from which you had risen.

Something about doing something unfamiliar, or perhaps speaking too much—exhausted me thoroughly.

Can I just stop now, even if I’ve reached the goal?

Is that not allowed?

...I see.

"...You’re kind, aren’t you."

The silence was broken by an unexpected figure.

Not really unexpected, though.

"Then why... No, never mind..."

The speaker, Yamada-kun, fell into silence, his expression a tangled mix of complicated emotions—unreadable.

From that expression, where so many feelings were entwined, it was impossible to tell what Yamada-kun had wanted to say.

Or perhaps he himself had not yet sorted through his own emotions.

Only that he sank weakly back into his seat, remaining rigid in the posture he had been in when I had pushed him aside.

A dull thud—literally collapsing, letting his weight fall without resistance.

Yamada-kun’s shoulder was gently tapped by Oshima-kun, concern etched in his expression.

In response, Yamada-kun lightly tapped Oshima-kun’s hand back—just as gently—as if to say, “Don’t worry.”

Cut the affection.

“Chairman, why don’t you sit?”

Oni-kun addressed Kudo, who remained standing.

Kudo’s expression flickered—like a lost child—before complying and settling into the seat.

“Anyway, everyone, I imagine you all have things you want to say. We’ve lived outside this elven village, so we only know about life here through hearsay. We can’t claim to understand everyone’s feelings. But I think the attitude shown earlier made one thing clear: the teacher didn’t bring us here out of malice. It wasn’t out of ill intent. It was out of goodwill. That he was doing so desperately—remember that.”

Oni-kun speaks softly.

Reactions varied. Some listened with earnest intent. Others accepted it with an air of discomfort.

"But even so, the fact that you've been confined here all this time doesn't just disappear, does it?"

Yes, it was Shiwa-san who openly opposed Oni-kun.

Upon hearing those words, Kudō's face froze in shock.

The earnest Kudo and the unrestrained Shizuhara had never gotten along—this was true even in their previous lives.

It appears to have remained unchanged even now.

"Besides, if we keep going like this, is it Poly Mass? Wasn't it? We were just being used by that thing, right? From the way you all talk, it doesn't sound like anything good. So the teacher was unknowingly carrying the load for them all along? You can't just excuse that because you didn't know?"

Hah?

What the hell is this idiot saying?

...Kill them?

That’s right.

"A fantasy world like this, and we're just kept like livestock."

"Calling it protection is just another word for imprisonment."

A quiet murmur of agreement rises from Shizuhara.

"But we had food, shelter, and clothing provided. Wasn't so bad."

"Maybe not exactly a slow life, but I wasn't particularly dissatisfied."

"Seeing them like that... can't really blame them."

Meanwhile, voices defending the teacher are heard as well.

The ratio is roughly even.

Both sides, however, seem to be engaging in dialogue where each understands the other's point.

There was no shortage of dissatisfaction with life here.

Yet, one couldn't fully condemn the teacher either.

That was the atmosphere.

If anything, the boys voiced their dissatisfaction more openly.

Maybe boys really do dream of adventure and such things?

She had been sending envious glances toward Tanikawa, who was active as an adventurer outside.

Perhaps it was because Tanikawa existed as a success story—only then could one think this way.

If one could be outside, then so could I, that sort of feeling.

Yes, was it working out well?

"Let me tell you, life outside isn't all sunshine and rainbows."

Oh—Tanikawa himself had spoken.

"Hey, you saying that? Doesn't carry much weight."

One of the boys shot back with a quick retort.

True enough.

Even Tanikawa, a successful one, sounded boastful.

"Then, tell me. Have any of you spent a full day in agony from pain? Even if not that severe, have you ever broken a bone? Sustained a deep wound?"

Tanikawa's words caused the male transmigrators to exchange glances.

"Just once—made a mistake at work, broke a bone."

"Then imagine it. That's the norm."

One of the male transmigrators spoke up. Tanikawa responded with a flat tone.

“Huh?”

“Adventure work—broken bones are routine. Heal it with magic, and you’ll break it again soon enough. If you don’t get used to being perpetually injured, you won’t last. Honestly, I’d have snapped long ago if it weren’t for Asaka.”

Was he serious? Or just teasing?

Hard to tell.

“I took up adventuring because I had to. It’s a dangerous job. I’ve regretted it countless times. I’ve come close to dying more than once. If it weren’t for Asaka, I don’t know how many times I’d have died. If you’re going into adventuring just because it’s glamorous—don’t listen to me, just quit.”

Tanikawa spoke, scanning the group.

Mm-hm.

Is this serious talk, or are you just playing around? Which is it?

“The point I made was about adventurers—a specialized profession. But outside that, the world beyond is undeniably dangerous. As an adventurer, I’ve witnessed countless tragedies across many places. People killed by monsters. People killed by thieves. Not just those who died. Children left orphaned. Children abandoned for financial reasons. The committee chair’s family was poor, wasn’t it? If she hadn’t come here, what would have become of her?”

Tanikawa spoke those harsh words to Kodai.

Kodai lowered his head, unable to respond.

After all, Kodai had been sold by his own parents.

That he was sold to an elf was just one possibility. He could just as easily have been sold elsewhere.

In that case, he was unlikely to have been sold as an infant. The transaction would have occurred after some growth. Where he was sold depended entirely on fortune.

If he had been taken in by a reputable merchant house, drawn in by his reincarnated acumen—ideal.

But if his beauty had been the reason, he might just as easily have ended up in a place of ill repute.

"Yet you're only saying that because Tanikawa has lived outside the estate. We never had that choice."

The reincarnated ones stirred again at Suzuhara's renewed words.

Oni-kun clapped his hands to silence them.

In the end, I don’t see the point in arguing which was better. The past cannot be changed. Our current existence here, now, cannot be altered. And the fact that some people are no longer here—those who have died—cannot be undone either. To claim one path was better than the other, while still living, is a luxury. That is what I believe.

Simply being alive is a luxury.

The reincarnated ones fell silent at his words.

“You—You’re the one who killed Natsume. How can you say that?”

Except for one.

WEB version: treat Kirihara as a different person from the print edition.