Mountain, I Bought It – Living in Another World Isn’t Bad Either

Chapter 12. Solo Camping in Another World (1)

For a while, I was in a daze, but the chirping of birds brought me back to my senses.

I hurried over to the portable toilet. You know, the kind you see at construction sites. It feels out of place in the middle of the mountains, but not having one would be even worse.

I don’t need to use it right now, but I at least want to check it out.

“…There’s toilet paper.”

The portable toilet itself seems brand new, and there’s no unpleasant smell.

“Also, is that a bath over there?”

I head toward the small hut a little ways from the toilet.

I tried to peek inside through the window, but it’s frosted glass, so I couldn’t see anything. When I opened the door and looked inside, I was greeted by the pleasant scent of cypress. It’s a cypress bath, of all things. There’s also a decent-sized area for washing up, with what looks like stone tiles. Unfortunately, there’s no place to change clothes.

“Wait, but what about hot water?”

I looked around and found two faucets. One with a red stone and one with a blue stone. Maybe hot and cold water come out of each? Just to be sure, I turned both faucets, and sure enough, hot and cold water came out.

“…How does the plumbing work here?”

Wait, this is supposed to be in the middle of the mountains.

What about drainage? Is it okay? Maybe it’s the type that stores the water? But a week’s worth of wastewater would be a huge amount. Wait, could it be…

“Does this world have magic or something like that? Now that I think about it, didn’t they say something about maso? Maso… as in Magic Essence…? No way, right?”

I grimace, trying to convince myself.

I head back to the rental car and look at the luggage inside.

“Okay, before unloading the luggage… I forgot to buy firewood.”

I was so overwhelmed by the fox deity’s energy that I moved here right away. Buying firewood for a week would cost a fortune. Even though the camping fee was halved, the cost of firewood would probably end up being about the same.

“Surely, I can’t just cut down the trees here, right?”

I glance around. Among the thick trees, I can see some thinner saplings here and there. I didn’t bring a hatchet, and the fox deity said, ‘Wild animals won’t enter this open area while you’re camping,’ but what if I’m the one cutting things down? What happens then?

“I really didn’t check enough, did I?”

More importantly, can I really go back?

What if I’m stuck in this other world forever? That anxiety starts to bubble up.

“…Maybe I can go buy firewood and check things out at the same time.”

I glance at the toilet and bath building. The sight of them standing alone in the grassy field still feels off. Even if I can come back, it’s unclear if these will still be here, but more importantly, I need to make sure I can actually return.

“Alright.”

Without unloading the luggage from the car, I get back in.