"If your faith isn’t in the sun, then what is it that saves you?

  What do you live for?"

  Kiyosumi-san asked, not with suspicion,

  but with the wide-eyed curiosity of a child hoping for a hint to some mystery.

  "Our faith is in medicine.

  All medicine derived from plants."

  "Medicine…

  So, one of them is the Oblivion Drug?"

  "Who knows."

  Maybe he thought I was dodging the question,

  because Kiyosumi-san crawled across the soil and leaned in close to my face.

  His movements and eyes were like those of a panther—or some kind of feline predator.

  "Do you really not know?"

  "I’ve never seen it.

  Until recently, I hadn’t even heard of it."

  I glanced at Tsurubami-kun.

  Even though his head was bowed, the moonlight pouring in from the glass ceiling revealed the fear in his expression.

  "Recently, a contagious illness has been spreading underground.

  It causes breathing difficulties.

  Everyone who contracts it… dies.

  Just like the 'headache disappearance' incidents have become a major issue on the surface,

  this ‘incurable infection’ has become a major crisis underground."

  "The incurable infection..."

  Kiyosumi-san finally backed away,

  placing one hand against his cheek, lost in thought.

  "And now, the name that’s suddenly started being passed around

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  as the miracle cure for it... is the Oblivion Drug."

  "If it really solves both the headache disappearances and the underground disease,

  then it’s basically a cure-all.

  Though… that name bugs me.

  Why would you name a medicine after forgetting?

  Don’t tell me this is one of those things that ends with 'it never existed.'"

  I touched the humid trunk of the traveler's tree.

  It calmed me, somehow, from the fingertips inward.

  "I have no idea either.

  But while it’s rare, there are plants with 'oblivion' as their symbolic meaning.

  There’s even a tulip whose language of flowers is 'forget me.'

  Maybe it’s made from something like that."

  "Huh. Interesting."

  The owner, who had been mostly silent, gave a smug grin.

  "I always thought it was a euphemism for some shady drug made from plants or something...

  Hey, don’t make that face."

  It hurt me…

  To have something I held sacred treated as something impure.

  The underground is peaceful.

  We’re people who love plants.

  We pray every day,

  putting our faith in the precious medicines that heal illness and injury.

  We live humbly, looking forward to the few ceremonies held each year.

  —I want to go back.

  "Come on, man.

  He just said they worship medicine made from plants.

  What’s with 'shady drugs'? Don’t mock their beliefs."

  To my surprise, it was Kiyosumi-san who defended me.

  "Sorry, White Robe."

  The owner gave a quick bow.

  "It’s okay.

  I guess I’m still not used to surface-dweller humor..."

  I forced an awkward smile.

  Kiyosumi-san said to me:

  "If someone mocked my faith in darkness, I’d be pissed too.

  So I’ll respect your faith in medicine."

  The surface dwellers worship the darkness.

  When I first learned about that belief, I honestly couldn’t believe it was real.

  But once I came to the surface,

  I started to feel it—

  And honestly, it scared me a little.

  Still, I got used to it pretty quickly.

  The object of their faith is called The Dark.

  I could only imagine what it might look like,

  but I could clearly understand the sincerity in their prayers.

  "So, why did you come to the surface in the first place?

  Did you…

  Did you catch that illness too?"

  Kiyosumi-san’s black eyes glinted with moonlight as he asked.

  "Fortunately, I haven’t been infected.

  I came to retrieve a book—

  One that holds the secrets of the stolen Oblivion Drug."