Epitaph: The Day A World Was Born

Another six months passed after the conversation between XX and the white figure. Akira had created the new world over the course of that year — a world where the Empire ruled over all. Reviewing the numerous files he had completed, the ruthless Game, the Sleepless Castle, the Demon Lord and his advisors, Akira shouted:

“It’s my best work yet...! I’m a freakin’ genius! Ha ha ha ha!”

Pumping his fist into the air, he burst out laughing. Whether he was a genius or not, Akira’s determination was unparalleled. He had created an entire world all by himself. It wasn’t an easy feat.

Akira uploaded the files onto his server one after another and launched the game. On the screen was the Demon Lord of the Empire, wearing a dauntless grin.

“What’s up, Kunai? Nice to meet you, I guess. Well, from today on, you... will be what I am.”

It was another indie game, which were much more prevalent during the internet’s infancy. What set this game apart, however, was that the creator of it was an endlessly determined man who never gave up.

——A particular day in 2001.

A pair of twins noticed the change. As identical twins, even their facial expressions and gestures were exactly that.

“It looks like Ono’s back in the game,” said the older brother, who went by the name Max online.

“Yep. The website’s updated,” said the younger brother, who went by the name X online.

With a synchronized, show-boaty gesture, the two brothers each pushed up their glasses with one finger. The website, which had only displayed a small block of text since the shutdown, had finally changed. In red font, it read ‘A New Age Program — Coming Soon.’

“A new-age program, huh?”

“What kind of game do you think it’ll be?”

“We’ll see. He’s a madman, conservatively speaking.”

“A new game’s fine and all, but no one got to beat Maria...”

There had been many battles over the Far East City, but no player had emerged victorious. X was still bothered by this fact. His brother Max seemed to have thoughts on the matter, too, as he gently added:

“Let’s pay him back double in this so-called new-age program.”

“When’s ‘soon,’ anyway? Today? Tomorrow?”

X began dangling the leg he had crossed over the other. Seeing this, his brother pushed his glasses with the same show-boaty gesture again and said:

“Dear foolish brother. Cease that unsightly mannerism immediately. You embarrass me.”

“Dear moronic brother. You’re the one who’s been tip-tapping your fingers on the desk.”

The brothers stared each other down for a moment. It wasn’t that they didn’t particularly get along, but each considered themself superior to the other. In truth, both of them were extremely intelligent. As they were still students, they always competed with each other on tests, and were close to the top of the national ranking of standardized testing.

“We’ll see who comes out on top soon enough when this comes out.”

“Yeah. It’ll be me, though.”

With the younger brother’s immediate comeback, Max grew visibly upset.

“Foolish brother! You just have to have the last word, don’t you!?”

“Shut up, you frameless-glasses-wearing douchebag!”

They jumped up and began wrestling on the spot. These twins would be two of the top players in the Empire-controlled world, too.

A few days later, Sho noticed the change in the website. However, he was lit up with anger rather than joy. Without so much as an apology, he had really created what he called a new world. The worldview and intro text were tacked onto the page without much thought. By a force of habit, Sho clicked on the intro.

“It’s ridiculous. Who in their right mind would ever register to...?”

He opened the intro to be greeted by an astonishing set of features. The most noteworthy of them was that the game would end in a week. While basic data like player names would be saved, everything else would reset each week. Sho was astounded by the bizarre system.

“What the...? How can you call this a video game?”

Leveling up characters, growing them, and collecting items to make them stronger. That was the backbone, the fun part, and the point of an RPG. Without that structure, how could it stand as one?

“He was all confident before, but this has to be a Hail Mary...”

Sho’s anger gradually left him as something like pity replaced it. There was no way that a game like this would ever become popular. At the end of the day, Sho was still grateful for the fun he had playing the previous game, all for free. As a result, he pitied this video game that absolutely no one would play, and also its creator, Akira Ono.

“All right... I’ll register for it, at least...” He mumbled, as if preparing to send Akira Ono off on his deathbed.

——A particular day, midnight.

Sho had downloaded the new game and jumped to the registration screen. He had no interest in the game itself, but the idea that everything would end in a week made it seem more casual, so this gave him the push to register. He had no idea that his life was about to change forever.

“A week-long battle to the death, huh...?”

A character called the Demon Lord of the Empire appeared on the screen, along with various rules. Surprisingly, the Demon Lord was also named Akira Ono.

“What’s this supposed to mean? ‘Come and get me’? As cocky as always... Woah, hold on!”

Sho couldn’t help but call out the tagline that appeared on screen, which read, ‘Real-time battle royale, 24 hours a day.’ An explanation that the game would be running 24/7 followed this tagline.

“Are you kidding me...!? People have school and work, and, you know, lives!”

The system seemed to completely ignore the normal life cycle of human society. Sho couldn’t believe it. If this was the case, players could barely sleep or go to work.

“Was ‘revolutionary’ the review you were hoping for...? You just went too far.”

Next, Sho’s avatar, along with a customization screen, appeared. There were a significant number of parts. As someone who didn’t half-ass these kinds of things, Sho spent a considerable time customizing his avatar.

“How much did you put into this...?”

The graphics were way too good to be an indie game. Sho could tell that Akira, who never compromised on his worldview, must have forsaken every other aspect of life and dumped every cent he had into the game.

“I’m sure graphics are outsourced, but... Oh, they have lines.”

In addition to the character name, Sho could input lines for his character to say on particular instances. The number of those instances was shocking.

“A line said when killing another player, when activating a skill, when encountering enemies, and even when dying...?”

Sho made sure to input something for each and every one. What he set up so far was apparently basic data, and would be carried on after the week ended. It also seemed that lines could be changed any time in the arena. Now, a map of the arena appeared on screen, with the note that it would be randomized each week.

“Even the area resets, huh...? Down to a tee.”

Sho was reaffirmed that Akira had no intention of letting any player accumulate anything. With this system, everyone always started the game from scratch. There was no distinction between veterans and newbies. Experience wouldn’t necessarily translate to strength.

Sho clicked through to see various bags spinning at high speeds. He clicked them and his starting items appeared. It looked like even those would be randomized. Rip a good item, and even the less skilled could have an advantage. Sho had acquired a fork, a loaf of bread, and two bottles of water. Apparently, the fork was a stabbing weapon with an Attack of 1 and a Durability of 3.

Finally, the Demon Lord of the Empire and his advisors appeared on screen, with a button labeled ‘To the Arena’ at the center of the window. Seeing this, Sho couldn’t help but feel excited... and quickly shook his head to regain himself. He had only registered out of pity, after all. He wasn’t going to play the game for real. Sho clicked the button, and his screen blacked out before displaying, in blood-red font, ‘Dive into the Infinity Game.’

“...!”

A ridiculous thought crossed Sho’s mind: there was about to be a real battle to the death. A bizarre sense of nervousness enveloped him, forcing him to stare at the screen with dead-serious eyes. A beach faded into view. Even the characters’ starting points seemed to be randomized.

“Alright. The layout’s kind of like Dynasty Warriors. WASD to move, click to attack. Mouse moves the POV, jump, spring, slide...”

Sho, already accustomed to these sorts of keyboard controls, got the hang of things quickly. He could also use items or activate skills with the function keys, similar to North American MMOs.

“But how am I supposed to fight with a fork...?”

As Sho mumbled so, his screen flashed red!

“W-What the...!? What’s happening!?”

He noticed that what must have been his HP had decreased, as he was under attack. He moved his cursor to see a little girl swing an ax. The sight was nothing short of a scene from a horror film.

“How did you...!?”

“Won’t you... die for me?”

The eerie text appeared on screen. It must have been one of the lines the other player had registered during character creation.

“You little...!”

Sho had experience with various games, after all. He dodged the sudden axe attack and retaliated with his fork.

—Weapon destroyed. Your fork broke!

“Yo! Why would you break with one hit!?”

“Won’t you... die for me?”

“Shut the hell up!”

Sho successfully sprinted away from this ordeal, but cold sweat dripped down his face when he saw the gauge labeled ‘Stamina’ rapidly decreasing. Despite this being a real-time battle royale, there was a limit. Sho figured that, whether he wanted to search for something or fight someone, he had to plan out his moves if he didn’t want to end up immobilized from running out of Stamina. If he did, he was a sitting duck. It would be like a sheep left alone in the middle of a wolf pack.

“Dammit... I got to look for a weapon.”

He headed for an area labeled ‘suburb.’ It seemed most likely that he could find something here. He spotted a command called ‘Search’; when he clicked it, various items appeared in exchange for some of his Stamina.

TV — Throw weapon — 12 Attack — 1 Use

Ripton Tea — Heals Stamina — 10

Kitchen Knife — Stab Weapon — 8 Attack — 5 Durability

“These don’t seem too good...”

For having spent Stamina to conjure them, they didn’t seem worthwhile. At this time, Sho realized that, excluding what he had equipped on his character, he could only hold five items at a time.

“I have to think about what I carry, too...”

His inventory could easily fill up with things he didn’t really need.

Suddenly, his screen flashed red!

“Dammit, not again!”

“Eeeeexxxx!”

“What the hell are you!?”

Sho turned around to see a man wearing glasses and holding a club.

“Younger brothers are always the best! Eeeeexxxx!”

“Psycho...!”

Dodging the club, Sho stabbed back with his kitchen knife.

—Weapon destroyed. Your knife broke!

“You... Pansy!”

Sho couldn’t help but scream at his crumbling arsenal. Just when he thought he was done for, loud gunshots echoed in the area and the man’s body convulsed. From the distance, another man with a machine gun came running.

“There you are, foolish brother... Die...! Die!!!”

“Brother!”

The two players went at each other as Sho hobbled away. A few seconds later, text appeared on his screen:

—XX:XX Max shot X to death.

(Last words: I don’t need to input anything, here. It’s pre-determined that I’m going to win. How could the apes defeat a genius like me?)

“Oh, come on! It broadcasts your last words!?”

As he ran away, Sho clicked open what was called the News Report to find countless records of deaths. There were numerous new players and numerous casualties.

“It’s midnight, guys... For real!?”

He opened what was called the Survivor List to see a column of avatars and their respective comments.

“Myu, here! Play nice, please!”

“Kill everyone.”

“Ono! It’s me! I’m gonna kill ya!”

“Not a virgin. Just wanted to make that clear.”

“That girl Ren’s super cute, though.”

“I will be the last one standing. I will be... the Pirate King!”

Sho let out a chuckle at the variety of comments. For some reason, it was starting to become a little fun.

“Everyone’s your enemy though...!”

He punched, barehanded, a player that was about to attack him. It felt amazing.

“Ha ha... This is wack...!”

Sho didn’t know what was whack about it, though. Everywhere he looked, there were enemies. He couldn’t let his guard down for a second, even when doing something else. It felt like being stranded on an island full of zombies or monsters. Like he was the protagonist of a Hollywood blockbuster. As he kept running, he started to approach a player just standing there, one who didn’t seem to grasp the controls, yet. Without hesitating, Sho threw the TV at this new player and pummeled them. The other player seemed surprised, but Sho kept beating until they fell to their knees.

—XX:XX Sho beat Hoshi to death.

(Last words: I wanted to... take it easy...)

“Ha ha! Hah ha ha ha!”

Sho burst out laughing. He just killed another human being on the other side of the screen, and with no mercy. He didn’t understand the overwhelming sense of victory. Sho couldn’t stop laughing just imagining the other player’s expression at that moment. If his enemy was just an AI or monster, he would not have been this excited.

“Alright. You can take one of their belongings when you kill a player.”

Not all, but just one. This seemed to require some foresight, too. He may need to take something that he didn’t necessarily benefit from, just to keep other players from obtaining it. He noticed that the weapon the other character had was a plate, which seemed useless. Through the several combat encounters, the Durability on Sho’s suit had decreased to 3. Remembering that fact, Sho decided to take his enemy’s armor.

“His armor’s... A schoolgirl outfit...?”

Sho hesitated for a few moments. Putting it on his male avatar was bad. However, if the Durability of his suit were to reach 0, he would be left naked and with drastically reduced Defense. It was unthinkable to try and survive this cut-throat arena with no armor.

“I-I don’t have a choice... Not if I want to survive. I got to use what I can.”

Ditching the suit he had been wearing, Sho donned the schoolgirl outfit with a slight elation. Instantaneously, his avatar changed to that of a creepy man in teenage girls’ clothing.

“Ha, I look like a pervert. But what’s this... strange sensation I’m feeling...?”

Sensing a presence, Sho turned around to find a man wearing a helmet and carrying a pickaxe.

“Wait, is that you, Sho...? Do you see yourself!? I didn’t know you’d gone full pervert, LOL!”

“...!”

Sho writhed reading the text popping up on screen. He hadn’t expected to be called a pervert from someone in a video game, and this late at night, nonetheless.

“I have not a lick of shame for the way I look!”

“Oh, crap! Here comes the pervert in a schoolgirl uniform!”

The two went into combat, but perhaps taken aback by Sho’s determination, the man wearing a helmet ended up on his back. Seeing this, Sho cried in victory, panting.

“Witness... the power of Sailor Sho!”

Screaming some nonsense, Sho robbed the man of his possessions and sprinted away. The game, now in full motion, caused quite the commotion among players in the middle of the night.

Meanwhile, Akira was rolling in laughter as he watched the various encounters all around the arena. With a can of beer in his hand, he seemed to be enjoying the show of the players’ excitement and confusion.

“This is hilarious! I’m so glad I made it. Totally worth the farm.”

This video game, much too intricate to be created by an individual, had only been completed with the money made from selling off the farm Akira’s parents had left him. Was it an extravagant hobby? Debatable. Akira could have retired right then and there if he had kept the farm, and he shared and ran the game free of charge. Clearly, he wasn’t in it for the money. Some might have called it a complete waste of inheritance, while others might have seen it as Akira donating his money and time for the enjoyment of others. His nature carried on into the distant future, where we would spend money like water. No amount of time required would make Akira change his priorities from putting his own world above money.

“Get a load of this, XXX... This is my new world.”

Lighting the cigarette in his mouth, Akira squinted at the screen. No matter how long he waited, that particular name never appeared on the list of registered players.

It was already past 1AM, but as far as Akira could tell from the News Report, players were still at it hard and strong.

—XX:XX, Floaty was blown to bits by XX.

(Last words: Off to the underworld!)

Akira did a spit take with his beer.

“Stop playing around and get a job.”

Although, as someone who spent the last year lost in his own little world, he had no right to criticize anyone. Eventually, Akira logged in as the Demon Lord of the Empire and entered the Sleepless Castle. While he had outsourced the game’s graphics, this area was, of course, the most expensive. In short, it was a giant, near-futuristic fortress illuminated in white. It had carried on most of the functions of the Far East City. Even the battleship Musashi was afloat in the bay nearby with the sole purpose of demonstrating the Empire’s strength.

“I better finish the battleship fast... So they can see it from the beaches and ports.”

He looked over at the super-gigantic battleship near the ocean’s horizon. Akira wanted to implement it sooner, as it seemed to epitomize the Empire, but he ran out of time.

“Lots of bug reports, though...”

Most of them were about missing graphics, but there were various other reports about missing displays, items disappearing, etc. If he didn’t fix these quickly, the players would lose trust in him.

“Please fix it soon.”

“Part of my character stats is glitching.”

“The punching animation...”

“I can only hold five items!? Come on!”

The forums were being filled at incredible speed with requests and bug reports. The foundation of Akira Ono’s acting chops were built here, along with his guts to act dauntless in a pinch. He responded with confidence to the outcry.

“All problems will be addressed by the next event. Any emergencies will be dealt with immediately. Thank you for your patience.”

While his response exuded confidence, he was panicking on the inside.

(Dammit! I think the save process is glitching!)

As he desperately looked for the culprit file, the sound of a can cracking open could be heard. Even now he was reaching for another drink.

(I can’t find it! Where did I screw up!?)

Chugging his beer, he scrambled to find the issue. On the forums, though, the more stress he was under, the more arrogant he became.

“All of the issues mentioned so far are expected. Don’t worry.”

Thinking that all was expected, the players were relieved.

“Just leave it to Ono, it’ll be fine.”

“Yep. He’ll fix it in no time.”

“Three minutes, tops. Right, Ono?”

(What do you think I am, an instant ramen!?)

Akira wanted to shout back at the forums, but if word were to spread that the game was riddled with bugs at launch, it would hurt its reputation. Akira continuously scrambled to fix bug after bug for the entire week. Still, issues kept arising. As the number of registered players grew, the more it strained the server. Eventually, Akira was notified of the discontinuation of his server contract, and he madly looked for another one he could sign up for. While the players were too busy to sleep, the same could be said about Akira. As he had intended, a world ruled by the Empire provided a harsh environment for all, but not even this world’s creator was an exception. For weeks after, he would rinse and repeat the process of finding a server host only to be kicked out. The game was just too big for any individual service to hold. It was large enough to justify a corporation owning and operating it.

(What am I supposed to do...!? I just keep getting canceled on!)

From the point of view of the server companies, they didn’t want to support any application that strained their servers like Akira’s did. It didn’t help that the internet wasn’t as developed back in the day.

As Akira’s corner grew tighter and tighter, he received a particular email, with a lead for a suitable server overseas.

“A foreign server...? Didn’t think of that one.”

Akira jumped to the website to, of course, be greeted with blocks of English text. Just looking at it gave him a headache. It would take him an immense amount of time to translate and read through it all. Server contracts already came with complicated fine print as is.

“Why don’t these idiots have a Japanese version!?”

While Akira’s outrage was unjustified, a language selection box appeared on the top right of the screen, as if it had heard his call.

“O-Oh... There it is. My B.”

He immediately switched to Japanese. Apparently, it was a test server where they wanted to see how much weight the server could carry.

“This could be the one...”

Akira inputted the necessary information to apply. Surprisingly, he received a same-day response. In Japanese, nonetheless.

“‘Ready for transfer when you are’, huh...? Yes!”

Finally resolving his lingering issue, Akira thrust his fists into the air. For the past few weeks, he had jumped from server to server, which caused a lot of issues for gameplay. Since many players had been complaining about it, Akira wrote in the forums with his usual boisterousness.

“The wait is over, everyone. The Japanese servers were too weak to handle my world, so we’re going overseas. Continue to enjoy smooth gameplay in our new server.”

He really had no right to be so high and mighty about it, but the players responded with applause.

“You did it, Ono!”

“Going to the big leagues... It’s getting real.”

Most players didn’t have a grasp on the workings of a server, and just gave a knee-jerk reaction to the ‘overseas’ descriptor.

(Alright. If the server’s stable, I can keep modifying the game...)

He would continue to put more and more weight onto the server. However, this one in particular didn’t budge no matter how much Akira poured into the game. Moreover, it was extremely cheap. While he was relieved of one major problem, Akira couldn’t shake a remnant of sorrow in his heart. He still hadn’t seen XXX, who had always supported him through trying times.

(Should I just send an email or something...? No, I should wait.)

He might have been stubborn, or perhaps prideful. Days turned into months, and even after years of running the game, XXX’s name would never be registered to it. This was a thorn that stuck into the heart of the Demon Lord, there to stay for many years to come.