Chapter 1

Land and Sea BGM #01 “Auction & Pirate”

1

Server Name: Theta Yellow.

Starting Location: Tokonatsu City, Peninsula District.

Log-in credentials accepted.

Welcome to Money (Game) Master, Kaname Suou.

The spiked peninsula they call the Shark’s Tooth is the heart of Tokonatsu City. Stunning tropical beaches, world-class casinos, and a financial metropolis divide the land into three sectors, and the streets are paved with proverbial gold. The palm trees and hibiscus flowers sway in the breeze, and blue butterflies flit alongside birds with feathers of green and scarlet. In stark contrast to this natural beauty, rows of skyscrapers tower overhead, gleaming like mirrored pillars.

There, in a parking lot reserved for beach-going swimmers, sat the mint-green coupe. Kaname stood outside it, leaning against the driver’s side door, a bottle of soda touching his lips. He could feel the blistering heat of the sun on his skin, the refreshingly cool bottle, and the drops of condensation that formed across its surface. He felt its weight in his hand, the tingle in his throat as he drank, as if it were all real. In fact, when was the last time a cheap soda from the real world tasted as good as this one?

Money (Game) Master technically had food and energy gauges, but because the values were reset upon logging out, food items were unnecessary if you were planning on staying for only a couple of hours. On the other hand, logging in for days at a time could lead to malnutrition in the real world. Unless you were one of those people who got addicted to the point of skipping meals, you usually picked a good spot to log out.

The fact that you could taste food and feel full, however, helped aid focus and kept your emotions in check. In addition, since the food was zero calories, it was a dieting hack of sorts.

Meanwhile, Tselika was sunbathing on the hood of the car as usual. She appeared to be trying to take another selfie with the dashcam, but under the searing heat of the sun, she looked not unlike a lamb chop sizzling in a pan of oil.

“Are you okay there?” Kaname asked.

“Of…of course I am. Do I look like anything other than the most elegantly reclining demon you ever did see?”

The loud, booming stereo blared through the car’s open window. In Money (Game) Master, you could basically either listen to loud Western music or financial news (so there were celebrity guests in the game who commented on these things, like in real life). Sometimes a channel would be flooded with anime songs, so it was easy to guess which sponsors had temporarily bought out the rights to the station.

“White Queen Tourism announced that their owners are moving forward with online meetings to bring together their assets, including their airlines, ships, and hotels. No need to bother with AGMs when you’re a massive financial conglomerate, I suppose. The company is calling this the Surf Riding Project, and its advantages are…”

“A follow-up on the satellite industry. Communications across the peninsula are currently handled by undersea cables, but some reports have suggested that these would be replaced by radio base stations. It is now possible that the information in these reports was fabricated by a group of Dealers. According to the blogs of several AI analysts…”

“Based on official announcements regarding the volume of trading in weapons and ammunition, life insurance companies such as Tokime Life, Mistress Inc., and Tarot Girls 22 are on the rise. Even according to our limited data, the numbers are up massively compared to last week. We could soon be looking at a huge…”

“Boooring.” Tselika pouted as she simmered on the hood of the car. The logos and stock prices of White Queen Tourism and various life insurance companies appeared and disappeared across her pit-babe outfit.

“Boring, boring, boring! If you’re going to put trash on the air, then have a beautiful woman reading smut out loud! In fact, just whisk me away to Prostitute Island or even just a strip club or something! A demon queen needs a little excitement in her life, for crying out loud!”

“Why do you want to look at other nude women? I mean, you’re supposed to be a woman yourself.”

“Why, simply to capture with my own eyes the beautiful sight of a woman at work! (Starry-eyed.)”

“Cut it out. When you take it that far, you sound sarcastic. Are you trying to kill them with kindness?”

“Whoa, is that a trace of classism I hear, My Lord? Dancers and sex workers do perfectly legitimate work, I’ll have you know! Prostitution is the world’s oldest profession! If you feel pity for them, that’s discrimination!”

It’s a waste of time to lecture a demon on morality, thought Kaname with a sigh. Magistelli included an auto-investment program that could handle ten thousand transactions a second, trading everything from wheat, to stocks, to gold, to weapons. But they were also meant to provide many other services such as navigation, assisted driving, and combat support—so many powerful features that it could be overwhelming.

While this was going on, the person they were waiting for appeared. Long black hair cascaded down to her waist, and her bangs were swept completely back, held in place by a band made of thin gold, braided into shape. The pair of glasses sitting on her nose added to the determined look in her eyes. She was tall for a woman, buxom, and the holster beneath her arm doubled as a smartphone case and stood out like the suspenders on a waitress’s outfit. She wore a stark white blouse and tight black skirt, topped off with a dark tie around her neck. Her slender legs were covered with stockings, and on her feet were a pair of mismatched boots. Overall, she looked not unlike a military officer who had taken off her jacket, sweltering under the sun and northern winds. Her belt was loose at the back, probably for holding an extra weapon.

It wasn’t uncommon for players to adopt a more casual look in the game—not to be gratuitously flashy but simply because of the heat. The more conservate Dealers settled for taking off their jackets, while most walked around in swimsuits. Even though the city was nothing more than digital data, in some respects, it could be frustratingly uncompromising. There was even a saying that the best way to sabotage one of the unbeatable PMC armies was to cut off their water and air-conditioning.

“It’s time. You must be Kaname Suou, I take it?”

“And you are…?”

“Lily-Kiska of Ag Wolves. And from now on, your teammate. I suppose that means I outrank you, though not by much. In any case, it’s nice to meet you.”

She extended a hand, and Kaname straightened himself up from the car door and obliged the handshake. However, Lily-Kiska’s eyes seemed to focus not on Kaname but on the car. More precisely, on the fact that as soon as Kaname left the vehicle, lines of text large and small streamed across it like racing stickers vanished.

She tilted her head slightly. “What were you doing just now?”

“Oh, just talking to my sister. She went to buy some sleepwear and was asking me whether she should get pajamas or a nightie. In fact, she dragged me into some sort of dress-up pageant video.”

“I see… You’re an overprotective brother.”

“She gets mad if I don’t do stuff like this. And when she gets upset, she starts cleaning up the place. A ‘change of pace,’ she calls it. But it’s my house, too, and I end up not knowing where anything is.”

Anyway, back to the task at hand. Lily-Kiska ran her finger along the arm of her glasses.

“The preparations are complete. Kaname Suou, you are now an official member of Ag Wolves, and as such, we will be working together to obtain the Legacies of Criminal AO.”

“There’d have been hell to pay if you’d turned me away after I paid my 1.7 billion snow.”

“Ha-ha. Well, it was necessary, both as a test and to carry out our plans. Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but perhaps we could save the rest for somewhere more private. I don’t feel comfortable discussing tactics with those things watching us.”

She was probably talking about the security cameras. Several poles lined the beach, atop which sat speakers for use in natural disasters. A perfect spot for a camera. Even from where they sat, you could easily pick out their crude lenses.

“Works for me. You don’t have to take your shoes off or anything; I’m not a stickler about what you do in my car,” Kaname said as he turned back toward the vehicle.

Lily-Kiska smiled and corrected him. “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant. I was saying we should go in my car.”

“?”

She gestured over her shoulder with her thumb.

There was barely a sound as a luxury car with a black finish glided smoothly over. A hybrid, perhaps? It was totally different from Kaname’s coupe. It was long, extremely long. Way too long, like a dachshund that had been stretched on a rack.

It was enough to leave even Kaname puzzled.

“You drive around in a limousine? With all the gunfights and car chases?”

“Oh, it’s not as bad as you might think. A large vehicle allows for more armor and a bigger engine.” Lily-Kiska gave a sly chuckle and continued. “It’s basically a tank. Speed and maneuverability are one thing, but there’s a special kind of thrill that comes from having the power to steamroll everything in your path. Haven’t you ever wanted to drive around in a huge truck like in an action movie?”

Lily-Kiska was starting to sound very different from the diligent impression she had initially given.

Meanwhile, there was a flash of white skin as what appeared to be another AI-controlled Magistellus slipped her bare legs off the driver’s seat of the limousine and exited the vehicle. She was a blond girl with long ears, presumably an elf. She was wearing a dark waistcoat and tight skirt that resembled a dealer at a casino, but the pair of rabbit ears on her shoes and her miniature hat made her look like she was wearing a costume of sorts. Unlike Tselika’s outfit, the brand logos that covered it looked out of place. She opened a thick door at the rear of the vehicle.

Lily-Kiska beckoned Kaname toward the girl.

“Any additional questions?” she asked.

“Ah, yeah.”

Kaname took a tiny step backward, as though taking in the whole sight again. As his bespectacled partner looked back at him blankly, he asked his question.

“Erm, is that a swimsuit or your underwear?”

“?”

“Well, maybe it’s meant to be shown off either way, but it sure is a bright red, don’t you think?”

A few seconds passed as the gears in Lily-Kiska’s head turned. The bright color of her bra was showing straight through her white blouse.

“Huh? Wh-wh-wh-what?!”

Her whole face turned as red as a beet, and Lily-Kiska panicked, clutching her shoulders with both hands…which produced a strange sound.

A click? A snap? There was the sound of tearing thread, and unable to withstand the sudden strain, the buttons around her chest area popped off in quick succession.

“—???!!!”

With an ultrasonic cry impossible to put into words, Lily-Kiska crouched down where she stood. Even her impenetrable visage had fractured. It reminded Kaname of the time his sister’s bathing suit had gotten washed away by the sea. Tselika cackled softly in the background.

Those suspender-like holsters probably weren’t helping. As if her top wasn’t under enough strain as it was. Crouched on the ground with tears in her eyes, Lily-Kiska, ever prepared, produced a sewing set from her underarm holster.

Kaname asked the question that immediately came to mind.

“Why didn’t you buy a different size?”

“The next one up was too big and felt too loose. I’m trying to go for a sniper build, so I can’t be dealing with the constant distraction.”

That must explain the mismatched boots on each foot as well. Different clothes came with different stats and skills, after all.

There was a brief silence as Lily-Kiska completed her needlework. Then she buttoned her top and slowly stood up straight, stretching as though just waking and curving her back to test the strength of the fix. This of course meant that she was showing off her large breasts right before Kaname’s eyes, a fact of which she remained totally unaware.

Humans tended to neglect small details when dealing with the bigger picture.

…The red garment—somewhere between a bra and a bikini top—remained visible through Lily-Kiska’s shirt, but Kaname thought it prudent to discuss it no further.

“A-anyway,” she said at last. “Let’s talk business. (…Geez, why do my buttons always burst off like they’re trying to introduce themselves every time I meet somebody new?)”

Kaname was concerned by whatever curse she appeared to be muttering under her breath, but he let it go. As he followed her lead, he turned to Tselika, who was relaxing atop the hood.

“Tselika, wait here.”

“Oh, it’s ever so dull when there’s no one to whom I can show off my body. Do you mind if I go for a little drive?”

“Fine by me—just don’t leave it by the side of the road. There’s a rule protecting cars in a designated parking space. It seems friendly enough at first glance, but it’s basically giving free rein over a car that’s parked illegally. I don’t want it stolen or blown up.”

---

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“Understood.”

“Also, no strip clubs. And no Prostitute Island.”

“Whaaaaaaat?! Then what’s even the point?!”

“You can go on your own time. I just don’t want you drawing attention before we start a job. As a Magistellus, you can’t even interact with items that aren’t mine anyway. Outside my hideout, it’s not like you can so much as buy a drink from a vending machine.”

“Ah, so what you’re saying is I can still pick up sex workers off the street. They’re Dealers, not items, so I’m not breaking any rules!”

“Tselika.”

With that warning, Kaname turned away. Lily-Kiska was stroking the arm of her glasses with her finger.

“You two seem to get along well,” she noted.

“Is that not what all Magistelli are like?”

“It varies. Anyway, she’s got such pale skin. I’m jealous. And this is coming from someone who has to slather on SPF fifty-plus sunscreen every day. This game can be frustratingly unaccommodating at times. Sometimes, the problem is that it’s too real.”

Kaname entered the limousine. The interior was air-conditioned and, of course, quite long and thin. It was probably larger than a single room at a city hotel. A sofa stretched across the walls, with a glass table at the center. There was even a television and mini fridge.

There were about a dozen men and women already inside, presumably other members of Ag Wolves, along with several Magistelli. One, a yuki-onna, a ghost woman who appeared only on snowy nights. Another, a dullahan. Lily-Kiska must have used this limousine as a mobile base when she wasn’t mowing down pedestrians in it.

Lily-Kiska was the last to enter. She pressed the button on an intercom atop the glass table and spoke to the driver’s seat.

“Sophia. Get us onto a main road. And drive safely, okay?”

“As you wish, Miss Kiska,” she replied.

A gentle inertial force washed over Kaname, relaxing him, as the limousine pulled out of the beachside parking lot and merged onto the road. Meanwhile, Lily-Kiska addressed the rest of the room, getting straight to the point.

“This is our new friend, Kaname Suou. With the capital he’s bringing to the table, I believe we are finally ready to put our plan into motion.”

Several windows appeared across the surface of the glass table. Each member was putting in a buy order for something for the price of 1.7 billion snow. All sitting around this table were on Kaname’s level, paying the same amount of money for the same purpose.

“I hardly think I need to reiterate,” she said, “but Ag Wolves exist to prevent the Legacies of Criminal AO from falling into the wrong hands, and by so doing, we protect not only the order of Money (Game) Master but also the entire world economy. Do you remember the Swiss Depression, Kaname?”

“…More or less.” Kaname Suou took a deep breath and explained. “It was a global financial crisis originating in Money (Game) Master before spreading to the real world. Same old story: Some Dealers trigger a ‘moral hazard,’ there’s a shortsighted money grab, and before you know it, there’s violence in the streets.”

“Well, thankfully, it all managed to sort itself out. It could have been much worse. If somebody had the Legacies, they could make that happen again. It would be child’s play. Millions of people would lose their jobs. Entire cities and even countries could fall into economic ruin. It’d be bad enough if a malicious actor got their hands on the Legacies, but the worst-case scenario is if they fall into the lap of some clueless rookie. We can’t even estimate the scale of the damage that would occur if that was to happen.”

“Okay. So?”

“Here’s our current target.”

An image of a shotgun appeared on the glass table. Except that name didn’t quite seem to fit.

The term cannon was used to describe a gun with a caliber above a certain size. Armies across the world had different standards of what made a gun a cannon versus a shotgun, but they would all agree on this point: This was not a shotgun but a shot cannon. Its overall shape resembled a revolver-style grenade launcher, a brutal orange weapon whose design defied all notions of sensibility.

“It’s known as #tempest.err. One pull of the trigger releases two thousand pellets of buckshot in a sixty-degree angle up to a range of five hundred meters.”

“And that’s just by default,” a large, burly man with a silver crew cut, wearing a tank top and a pair of blue camo-print pants, interjected. “The shot’s guided by an under-barrel beam. Anythin’ caught in the light gets turned to mincemeat. Now, I know what you’re thinking: Sounds just like a big laser pointer. But here’s the catch. You can distort light. Reflect it. If you’ve got a lens, you can focus it all down to a single point. See where I’m goin’? All you need is a disco ball, and you can fill the whole damn room. Doesn’t matter if your foe’s behind cover—they’re toast.”

Money (Game) Master was a game that mixed modern-day finance with urban crime, but some aspects of the game defied conventional physics.

For example, the Magistelli.

And the Legacies of Criminal AO, so overpowered they became known as the Overtrick. Weapons so heavily customized, they exceeded even the preset physical limits of the world. Items that, while through legal means, had broken the mechanics of the game so much that using them felt like cheating.

“Just one question,” Kaname ventured. “Wouldn’t the user be in the crosshairs of the light beam, too? I mean, the only reason you can see walls in the first place is because reflected light from them is hitting your eye.”

The man who answered Kaname’s question was a nervous, fidgety, slouching man with a backpack and a hoodie with some kind of anime character on it. Kaname thought he’d remembered the character’s name was Cyber Rain or something like that. The man looked like he had a room full of posters, light sticks, and figurines.

“Actually, it’s the amount of light that determines the effectiveness. The beam gives about three fifty to four hundred lux…about the same as a fluorescent bulb, I suppose. Walls don’t reflect much light, so the blast will break it down. For a mirror, or glass, or even water, on the other hand, well, then the reflected light takes priority. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if you accidentally pulled the trigger in one of those scenarios, especially if it was pointed to a mirror in an indoor fight.”

“Anyway,” said Lily-Kiska, taking over. “Firing the weapon from on high, like in a helicopter, causes a storm of bullets to rain down, just as the name implies. #tempest.err can massacre everything in sight with just a single pull of the trigger. It’s also semiautomatic, giving you free rein to go on the ideal shooting spree… It’s such a nasty weapon, you start to think it must be a hack.”

The large man with the silver crew cut scratched his head as he joined the conversation. What looked like…dog tags were wrapped around his wrist and appeared to act as a smart health scanner that displayed his vitals like blood pressure and perspiration rate.

“Man, it makes regular guns look stupid,” he griped. “It’s like a superweapon out of some cheesy space movie.”

“If this weapon gets out there,” warned Lily-Kiska, “the balance of the game will be in tatters, make no mistake… And yet, despite that, we’ve got some idiot auctioning it off to make a quick cash grab.”

She looked down at the glass table, controlling it with her gaze, and an image appeared of a beautiful woman in a green dress. Her long black hair was held at the back by a pair of ribbons that stuck up like rabbit ears. She looked heavily made up, and the slits in her revealing clothes offered glimpses of her chest and thighs. She gave the impression of being out of her depth, a little insecure, still a rookie.

The man with the crew cut looked displeased and slapped his head a few times. Perhaps he’d chosen that hairstyle because he liked the way it felt more than the way it looked. Kaname got the impression the player might be a woman in the real world.

“The chick’s name is Pavilion,” he explained. “She shouldn’t give us any trouble. It’s the auction site itself that’s the problem.”

“True,” replied Lily-Kiska.

The next image was not of a building but a large ship.

“This is the cruise liner Tropical Lady. Owned by the AI conglomerate White Queen Tourism, it has a two-thousand-person staff and a maximum displacement of one hundred thousand tons. It’s powered by four diesel engines…but I suppose the specs aren’t what’s of interest. The important thing is that while it’s at sea, it’s out of the reach of us land dwellers.”

“A-and that’s not all.” Shrinking himself up even in the large limousine interior, the man with the backpack and hair over his eyes slipped into the conversation. He was covered in anime buttons and pins that rattled as he spoke. “The Tropical Lady is escorted by an army of AI-controlled PMCs. God, even if we had a helicopter or a submarine to get on board, they’d fill us full of holes. Going up against them will only turn out very, very badly for us.”

“We’ll be blown to bits before we even get close, with mines or something,” the crew-cut man concluded. “White Queen Tourism is an AI conglomerate. There’s no chance in hell they’d ever employ an actual human… Seems to me like they must have taken on this Pavilion chick as an external contractor. That would make the Tropical Lady just another toy they’ve given her to play with.”

Conglomerates differed from ordinary companies in that all the top jobs were filled by family members. The concept of an AI conglomerate, then, might sound a bit odd, but basically, they could be thought of as run by a group of NPCs who didn’t follow normal protocol. Obviously, human players should not be able to get a job at an AI company. It would be a boring game if the only way to rise to the top was to get a cushy job and work for some company.

Which is all to say how exceptional this treatment was. Lily-Kiska took a quiet breath and spoke up.

“To the AI management, Pavilion is like a hunting dog. She has a skill they don’t—a flexible mind—and that’s why they need her, which makes her a Dealer backed by the power of an AI conglomerate. She’s in a fragile position, though; one wrong move and they’ll cut her loose. As long as she continues to prove herself worthy, however, she’ll be able to enjoy a position of relative authority.”

One mistake and you got the sack. Talk about high risk. Perhaps there were game-related factors at play. It was more fun to keep the players moving around, like a round of musical chairs.

The backpack man spoke next. “It seems that White Queen Tourism has simply drawn up a list of the biggest transactions and is reaching out to the Dealers involved one by one. They’re at about 1.7 billion per person, s-so if Pavilion loses her seat, they might contact one of us Ag Wolves next.”

A troublesome opponent indeed. She would also be authorized to give orders to the AI PMCs. Of course, their activity would be limited to the territory of the AI conglomerate itself, but it would still be extremely powerful to command a force designed to indiscriminately slaughter any and all intruders.

Kaname tilted his head slightly. “So then those things we bought?”

“Right,” said Lily-Kiska. “We can’t fight them head-on, but we can take the PMCs out of the picture entirely by exploiting their weakness. Work smarter, not harder. Such is the way of the Dealer, is it not?”

“…”

“The 1.7 billion snow we’ve all contributed will not go to waste. It is merely an investment required to take even more valuable steps.” Lily-Kiska flashed a sly grin and once again operated the glass table without touching it. “There’s only one way we can get onto the Tropical Lady. Hard Engage Bridge. It’s the sole place the ship can return to port here on the peninsula from the open sea. There’s no other point along the ring road capable of accommodating a ship that size. They will, of course, be expecting attacks from atop the bridge, which means there’s one more thing we need to do.”

Lily-Kiska continued to explain her tactic, though at this point it was more like filling in the gaps. Afterward, she had one last piece of information to share.

“Now, this is all unconfirmed, but we have identified a Dealer who may be related to Criminal AO.”

“…”

At Kaname’s silence, Lily-Kiska continued. A photo appeared on the glass table and expanded to fill the whole surface. It looked like it was taken with a telephoto lens.

“Her name is Midori. We know nothing about how strong she is or even what she wants #tempest.err for. But given that she’s related in some way to Criminal AO, we ought to consider her a dangerous opponent both in terms of strategy and power. In fact, considering this is all the information we have even after our tireless research, we ought to be on maximum alert.”

From the pictures, she just looked like a cute little girl. Long black hair with even bangs, pale skin, and twin tails. She wore a black bikini top that covered her flat chest and a matching miniskirt, both adorned with frills. A pair of short gloves covered her hands to the wrist, and black socks extended up past her knees. On her head, she wore a headdress decorated with blue roses. The white lace everywhere lent the ensemble a very gothic-lolita feel.

However…

“If she’s related to Criminal AO, she may know more about the Legacies than anyone else. Perhaps she’s even familiar with #tempest.err. Worst case, she could be the one controlling Pavilion from behind the scenes.”

The girl, the ultimate wild card, sat astride a large motorcycle painted bright red with a pattern of autumn leaves. The gloomy shadows of that one photo taken in a brick-lined back alley told Kaname all he needed to know about the world she inhabited.

“Should we run into her, deal with her as you would an enemy. That way, she can’t shoot us in the back.”

Their path was clear. Kaname looked around at the faces of everybody in the limousine. He had just one question.

“When do we start?”

“Immediately.”

2

I apologize for making you put up with this. Well, I suppose I shouldn’t treat you like a stranger.

I bought this snowman-themed letter-writing set on a whim, because it looked so cute, but it has more envelopes here than I expected, so all my letters are going to look like this for a while. I know texts and social media are so much faster these days, but I prefer this. Analog, not digital. They say that even the act of putting a stamp on an envelope and placing it in the mailbox will soon be a thing of the past. I just want us to keep trading letters for as long as possible.

Today, I looked up how to grow a melon.

Whenever I eat grapes or watermelon, I always hold on to the seeds instead of throwing them away. It’s an old habit of mine. I know it’s a lot of effort to grow them until they’re edible, but I can’t help it.

Do you have any strange habits?

I eagerly await your response.

3

After disembarking the dachshund-like black limo, Kaname spent some time leaning against a large metal dumpster as he waited for Tselika to return with the mint-green coupe. Now he was back behind the wheel, having booted the demon pit babe from the driver’s seat.

“The merger of the century is approaching. The family behind the AI conglomerate known as White Queen Tourism is proceeding with its online meetings to unify its five partner companies. This merger, known as the Surf Riding Project, could result in White Queen Tourism becoming the second-largest tourism company in the world…”

“Hard Engage Bridge is a famous landmark in the financial district, but concerns have been raised over its condition. Several construction firms such as Satsuki Construction and Alice Manufactories have offered to conduct maintenance efforts on the bridge, but contract negotiations are expected to continue for some time…”

“The radio shows are boring me to death, as usual.” Tselika sounded extremely uninterested. “Conglomerates, construction companies… How am I supposed to get excited if I can’t see any of the dirty details? Ahhh, just lock me in a hotel and let me browse the pay-per-view all day. Or hand me a telephone and let me bring over a few call girls.”

“Is it just me or is your IQ lower than usual today, Tselika?”

Tselika stretched upward, almost able to press her palms against the low roof. “Hng!”

“Tse— You idiot! Get your wings out of the way while I’m trying to drive! I can’t see!”

The car scraped against something as it swerved across the road. Kaname somehow managed to regain control of the vehicle and reached over, grabbing the cowlike horns atop Tselika’s head and shaking them in punishment.

“And I know it takes a whole lot of money to find a way into those places. What’s next, you’re going to ask me to front you the cash? That’s a Money (Game) Master strategy if ever I heard one.”

“Gulp. Aaah! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, My Lord! Please forgive me!”

“Wings. Now.”

“Okay, okay!! I’m retracting them!! I won’t bother you while driving again, I promise!!”

A conglomerate relied on family. That might sound irrelevant when talking about AIs, but it actually affected how the business operated in quite a few ways. They sold shares on the market without giving shareholders a say in how to run the business. That was enough to give a glimpse into the kind of tin-pot dictatorship they had going on. They couldn’t even make red-bean buns unless the water, eggs, yeast, and red bean were all produced in-house. If you didn’t agree with them, then you could go somewhere else.

You could also see their unique style of governance in how they cut their “outsider” contractors loose after a single mistake.

“You know, I haven’t had a red-bean bun in a while.”

“Now that you mention it, I could go for that myself, My Lord. Let us pick up a few along with some milk later.”

As Kaname headed to Hard Engage Bridge, he met up with sports cars and 4WDs of all colors. They clearly belonged to the other members of Ag Wolves, not because they had stickers or any other markings to distinguish them but because it would be hard to attribute the army vehicle with the military camo and the car covered in anime girls to anybody else.

In the confines of the passenger seat, Tselika reached up with both hands and arched her body, stretching her limbs. The names of several construction firms vying for the bridge contract scrolled along the curve of her body as she showed off her breasts. It looked like she was trying to wake herself up and clear her mind.

“I suppose it’s finally time to begin,” said Tselika, as if asking for confirmation.

“Good. I’m tired of waiting.”

“Are you sure about this? I wouldn’t be surprised if the path you chose turned out to be more dangerous than you anticipated, hmm?”

“…”

Several windows appeared on the windshield: a simplified map of the city, a graph of gold prices, a flowchart detailing the newest fads, and a chat window that resembled an instant-messaging service. The chat requests were all labeled “Ag Wolves.” When Kaname accepted, lines of text about one hundred characters long scrolled by in quick succession.

Lily-Kiska: Sorry about the quick start. We’ll have your welcoming party when we go for congratulatory drinks afterward.

Hazard: Which means if we fail, you can kiss it bye-bye. If you want that drink, then eyes on the prize, new guy.

M-Scope: I would think the “prize” here is us not all Falling and going into tons of debt, personally.

Zaurus: Hey, keep trying to jinx us before a job, and I’ll kill you myself!

Titan: If you wanna fight, see who can get the most kills on the job or somethin’. We gotta stay productive.

It was impossible to put all the names to faces, but Kaname could sort of identify some of them from the way they spoke.

Zaurus: So where are we holding the after-party?

Lily-Kiska: The usual spot, I guess. There’s a bunch of Italian places on Third Avenue on the peninsula.

Titan: That’s no fun! I’m tired of hamburgers and rib eye steaks. Let’s go somewhere like Coconut Isle or Diver Isle; the menus are absolutely insane there.

M-Scope: But those places just boil whatever they can find in coconut milk and call it a day. Like bats and crabs and stuff.

Hazard: Let’s stop talking about all this in front of the new guy. Don’t want to scare him off.

As much as they seemed able to keep the conversation flowing by themselves, they might get the wrong idea if Kaname’s only response was silence, and that would be annoying to deal with. Kaname operated the digital keyboard on the windshield with his gaze and tried typing out a few sentences in response.

Kaname: So how did you guys manage to put together the 1.7 billion? I would have thought you’d all be stepping on one another’s toes if you’d been upsetting the market in some way.

Titan: You ain’t gotta start a war to make money in this game. I’ve been tradin’ food futures, myself. It’s pretty easy ’cause typhoons and whatever are announced beforehand as “events,” unlike in the real world.

Zaurus: You mean cyclones, Titan. But yeah, it’s pretty easy to calculate. You can even get a program to do it for you. Not many people know that one.

M-Scope: Just think about the origin of our name, and you’ll see how we made our money. Ag Wolves. Silver Wolves. Get it?

Lily-Kiska: How is he going to get that? It’s basically because wolves have evolved to hunt in packs. We’re the same, only we use money instead of fangs. That’s what it’s supposed to mean.

As the very casual job orientation unfolded, they approached the huge bridge.

Hard Engage Bridge stood around five hundred meters long, with a maximum height above sea level of thirty meters, but the largest cruise liners could barely pass under it. It stretched out over the sea, just one part of the large circular road that connected the peninsula to the surrounding islands. Therefore, although there was a company that owned it, it was considered neutral ground.

Kaname parked his car midway along the bridge and stepped onto the asphalt. Even after rolling up his sleeves, he was sweating. As he gazed out over the green sea, the woman with swept-back hair and glasses, Lily-Kiska, walked up next to him. She held in each hand a freshly cooled glass, perhaps produced from somewhere within the limousine. Each was filled with a translucent blue liquid, giving Kaname absolutely no idea how it might taste.

“It’s amazing,” mused Lily-Kiska as she placed the glasses down on the railing, offering one to Kaname. The hibiscus flowers decorating the rim of the glass swayed in the sea breeze.

“I wonder how many computations are going on in this one glass,” she said, wiping away a drop that clung to the outside with a thin fingertip. “The gravity, the temperature, the humidity, the water droplets formed when the air cools, not to mention the fluid dynamics, the light refraction, the friction between the bottom of the glass and the railing, even the taste, the smell, the feel… This is all over the city, from coast to coast. It’s impossible to understand how this is all free to play.”

Her voice was soft as she stared out over the sea just like the young boy next to her.

“Did you know? This game supposedly has anywhere between fifty million to 0.2 billion Dealers playing in a space the size of a city-state. And that’s only counting active accounts.”

“Well, it would be pretty foolish to go inactive and leave your affairs to your Magistellus in a game this grueling,” Kaname replied. “You might as well post your bank details online for everyone to see.”

“Oh, but there are people who leave everything they own in the hands of shady online banks, aren’t there? Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, open world or not, it’s just one city. How do they fit everyone in here?”

“…”

Both of them sipped their blue drinks. Kaname didn’t taste any alcohol. It was just like a carbonated energy drink. He felt a warmth in the center of his chest.

Lily-Kiska continued. “But this game affects more than just those fifty million to 0.2 billion people. One hundred thirty million people use yen, and 320 million people use the dollar, but just as those currencies directly affect the lives of all seven billion people, so too has snow covered the entire globe. In fact, estimates say there’s over a billion people worldwide who don’t use banks at all and instead rely entirely on snow. The whole world depends on this game, and nobody even knows who developed it, who runs it, or where the servers are based.”

Indeed. Even “just” those who completely relied on it numbered one billion. When services appeared that would convert the local currency to snow solely for the benefit of such people, governments looked the other way. They were “illegal” in name only.

Whether it was in the asset management of investment funds or large corporations, the financial management of the banks themselves, or the tax funding of nationwide public services, the virtual currency affected anything that involved money, large or small.

“The Legacies of Criminal AO could destroy it all,” spoke Lily-Kiska bitterly as she gazed out over the sea. “We’re past the stage where you can say it’s all just a game. Past the stage where it’s all just for fun. I mean, we can play around a bit without thinking of the consequences, and it’s all a bit of fun, but the Legacies don’t have the word restraint in their dictionary. If some clueless rookie gets their hands on them, you’ll see what I mean. We won’t be talking about just another Swiss Depression, that’s for sure. It’ll destabilize the game immediately. One by one, the weak will end up in debt, and we’ll see countries going bankrupt left and right. It’s no joke.”

To think a game could destroy the world. They lived in a time when an imaginary war could decide the fates of not only people but entire nations. It was the elephant in the room that nobody wanted to acknowledge.

“…We have to do something,” Lily-Kiska muttered as she stared out over her glass at the sea. “We have to regain control of Money (Game) Master at all costs.”

“I agree,” said Kaname. “#tempest.err is the first step. We have to get to it before it falls into the wrong hands.”

“That’s right. That’s the first step.” Lily-Kiska turned away from the sea to face Kaname and smiled. “I hope this serves to bring us closer together as well. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to forge some strong friendships on the battlefield. As Titan would say, it’s productive.”

Just then, Tselika leaned out of the passenger-side window of the mint-green coupe and called to him.

“It’s almost time, My Lord. I can see the ship approaching.”

Kaname’s and Lily-Kiska’s expressions changed to ones of urgency.

“It’s almost time for our secret weapon to get here, too. I’ll go get armed. I’ll need some skills as well. Sophia! Bring me my jewelry box! I want to swap out my accessories!”

“I’ll support. Its range is short, but I have a sniper rifle.”

Lily-Kiska opened something that looked like a tackle box and started trying on accessories of various colors. It was like her mismatched boots were for skill or stat reasons. Kaname gave her a sidelong glance and went to fetch Short Spear from Tselika.

Their enemy was a group of lowlifes attempting to auction off #tempest.err, a monster shotgun and one of the Legacies of Criminal AO, also known as the Overtrick.

The site was the Tropical Lady, a cruise liner untouchable from land. Once they managed to get aboard, they would have to deal with a swarm of AI PMCs, enemies against whom a front-on assault was all but useless.

But Ag Wolves did not flinch.

Kaname stood among them, atop Hard Engage Bridge, awaiting the sordid vessel.

4

Ta-daa!

Did you notice the stamp affixed to this letter? It’s a special stamp celebrating the anniversary of commercial space travel! I know you’re supposed to keep them as memorabilia, but I really wanted to show them to you, so I had to use just one.

Hmm, I don’t really think it matches the snowman envelope. Besides, collecting stamps was always more my brother’s thing. With me, I collect all sorts, like seeds. The kids in my class keep calling me a squirrel. Sad face. I’ve kept every letter you’ve ever sent me, of course. I love rereading the old ones.

Writing is so powerful—the warmth of a line of handwriting, the emotions put into every stroke. I hope this letter makes you feel the same way.

I eagerly await your response.

5

The deck of the Tropical Lady contained a large swimming pool, a place for swimsuit-clad partygoers to stand and eat, and most importantly, an auction house where staggering amounts of money changed hands.

In the center of it all stood the girl known as Pavilion, wearing a purple dress, her long black hair tied and secured by a pair of ribbons that stood up like rabbit ears. She looked about sixteen or seventeen years old. The touch of innocence about her voluptuous body only amplified the lasciviousness of her exposed cleavage and thighs.

She was the sole external contractor to the AI conglomerate White Queen Tourism. Just a hound, to be cut loose upon making a single mistake, yet hers was a significant position nonetheless.

Money (Game) Master was a game of financial dealings where nothing was against the law, not even gunfights or car chases. But at sea, there was nothing to fear from the guns and cars back on land. Especially not when you possessed the legendary #tempest.err.

The guests here were true VIPs, hoping to enjoy some high-risk gambling in a low-risk location. Since virtual snow was more or less equivalent to physical yen, a list of the highest-ranking players could just as well serve as a list of the most influential people in the world.

They had no need for the large sums of money they could get from selling #tempest.err. That’s why this auction had charity in the title. It didn’t matter who took home the mountain of cash. That wasn’t important. What was important was making connections with the people who had enough wealth enough to afford it. Spending time with them. Obtaining that list of the most influential people in the world. Upon completing that, it was like you’d already eaten your fill of the main course.

The important thing about money wasn’t how much of it you had lying in your vaults. It was how much of it you were making right that second. Did you have the power necessary to create wealth? Money changed hands all the time, and power wasn’t in stopping it but in allowing it to do so. Anyone who survived in this business realized that eventually.

Money came from connections. And it was who you connected with that determined how much money you could make. An engine didn’t run without burning a little gas. But at the same time, an engine did nothing if it wasn’t connected to anything. In the same way, you got nothing from brownnosing the unwashed masses. There were only so many hours in the day, which is why it was best to get all the most powerful people in one place and network as hard as you could. It was only natural to focus on what would net you the greatest return. That was just good investment practice.

Life was a finite resource. How were you getting the most out of it? Who would net you the greatest return? That was what Pavilion was here to learn.

And then…if she was successful…

Surely, a certain someone will be pleased with me.

One of the PMCs waiting nearby spoke up. “It’s time, ma’am.”

Indeed. Pavilion nodded, her rabbit-ear ribbon bobbing.

The auction would soon begin. Some lucky buyer would win #tempest.err, the shotgun without peer, and Pavilion, the girl who made it happen, would obtain a list of the most powerful people in the world. Whatever happened after that was none of her concern. The Overtrick could break the game balance and send every person and nation into ruin. The world could be plunged into a second Swiss Depression. As long as she went up in the world, Pavilion didn’t care about any of that one bit.

Pavilion tapped her mic and addressed the floor.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience!” She beamed brilliantly. “We’re about to start the main event, the charity auction! I think everyone might already know what we’ll be bidding for tonight, but here it is! One of the famous Legacies of Criminal AO, #tempest.err!”

---

---

Like the sounding of a death knell.

6

The cruise liner approached the bridge.

Kaname, now a member of Ag Wolves, glanced toward the hood of the mint-green coupe. Several windows were spread across its surface. There at the eleventh hour, Lily-Kiska was fiddling with the parts of a bolt-action sniper rifle. When she suddenly looked over at the windows on Kaname’s car, what she saw was not weapon specs or cruise liner blueprints but…

Bro.

Dad’s supposed to be making dinner tonight, but he’s running late. Should we sort out dinner ourselves? I can’t decide whether to order soba or go out for beef bowls, though. Pizza’s a bit expensive, I guess. I’m also a little worried about trusting those delivery boys on their bikes using their phones to navigate. Do you have any other suggestions?

“…What are you doing over there?”

“My sister sent me a text, so I’m just replying to her. I need to write back something, doesn’t matter what, within three minutes or else she gets mad.”

“I’m shocked… You’re an overprotective one.”

“It’s for my own good. Or else she’ll do some ‘renovating’ and drill a bunch of holes in the wall again. Last time, it was the bathroom wall. Can you believe that?”

Perhaps that’s what she did to collect her thoughts, Lily-Kiska mused to herself, tapping a small piercing in one of her ears to check the aim-steadying skill she would need for long-distance sniping.

It was finally time.

7

Of course, it wasn’t as though Pavilion hadn’t assessed the risks. Hard Engage Bridge was the choke point, after all.

Boom! There was an explosion a little way away, and orange sparks scattered across the deck of the ship. As soon as one of the AI attendants realized this was merely to calibrate the range and not a missed shot, a well-placed sniper bullet flew cleanly through its head.

Inside the ship, the auction floor buzzed with commotion, but atop the stage, Pavilion kept her cool. Her heels clicked as she addressed the crowd, microphone in hand in a manner that seemed to say all is well.

“I see twenty from number fifteen. Sitting at twenty, any advance on—Yes! Twenty-three from number fifty-nine! Twenty-five from number forty! Twenty-eight from seventy-two! Any advance on twenty-eight?”

The minimum bid was 100 million snow, which meant that bidding was currently sitting at 2.8 billion, but it was still early days. The shotgun #tempest.err was a nightmarish master key with which you could destroy any individual, business, or nation you chose. It was more useful than a nuclear bomb, and it didn’t produce fallout. It was a devastating economic cyberweapon, capable of ejecting a person from society entirely, while allowing you to seize their assets, rights, and properties intact. And not just once but any number of times… Even 10 billion would be a small price to pay for that kind of power.

But money was not the end goal for Pavilion, who had infiltrated the management ranks of an AI conglomerate as their pet Dealer, even knowing that she would be cut loose if she made one wrong step. She was after connections with people who could pull veritable mountains of cash out of their backsides. That would surely please a certain someone.

“There we are! One hundred! Number seven takes it right to one hundred!! And I see two hundred from number thirteen! Going once, this is your last chance! The perfect opportunity to get your hands on the master key of the world! There, I see three hundred from number ninety-nine! Sitting pretty at three hundred!”

The world’s most powerful people were looking upon the machinery of the global economy and fighting over the power to control it. It was a war in all but name. There was no time to worry about taking a bullet. Besides, anyone who turned tail and fled didn’t deserve to be on Pavilion’s list.

Of course, owing to a comprehensive risk assessment, the VIPs had gathered in a place inaccessible to sniper fire from atop the bridge. The Tropical Lady would soon be passing directly under it.

The bridge stood approximately thirty meters above sea level, but given that there were three floors of cabins above the deck, piled up like a staircase, it was a tight squeeze. Across the entire circular bridge that connected the peninsula to the surrounding islands, this was the only place high enough for the ship to pass through.

“Any more? Remember, there’s only one hundred and twenty seconds on the clock! And it looks like it’s going to number ninety—Yes, number twenty, three hundred and one! Three-oh-one from number twenty! What are we going to do, ladies and gentlemen? Are we going to keep creeping up or is someone going to leap ahead?!”

As her auctioneering performance loosened the buyers’ purse strings, Pavilion chuckled to herself. Now, are they going to leap off the bridge, vehicles and all? There are a thousand PMCs on this boat; we’ll blow them to pieces as soon as they land!

Just as she thought that, something happened on Hard Engage Bridge.

A truck atop the bridge lurched violently toward the barrier and toppled over the edge backward like a seesaw. But instead of falling, it simply hung down vertically, clinging to the side of the bridge by some unseen force, and stopped.

Is there a wire or winch or something?

Then the doors of the truck’s trailer burst open, and what had been hiding inside began to fall.

Is that an anti-ship missile?!

8

Lily-Kiska moved her bespectacled eyes away from her sniper scope and sighed. She seemed to have turned off her smart glasses. Perhaps they weren’t compatible with the scope.

“Two hundred million a pop,” she said. “It’s highway robbery, I tell you.”

“It works, though,” Kaname observed, standing beside her. Although he held his short-range sniper rifle, his role this time was that of spotter. “Now we just need to launch the rest of them.”

It wasn’t only one truck strung up with a wire off the railing of the bridge. To the side, there was a whole line of them. In one fell swoop, a row of SSM68F anti-ship missiles fell from their trailers and rushed toward the sea.

9

Pavilion’s heart sank, if you could say such a thing of a virtual avatar. A dull, tight pain spread throughout her body as the row of anti-ship missiles dropped down from the bridge overhead like the blade of a guillotine.

“…!!!!!!”

Aren’t they after #tempest.err? Don’t they care if it gets destroyed?!

As the first missile hit the water’s surface, it produced a huge spray that reached as high as the ship’s observation deck.

One direct hit would mean the ship’s utter destruction, and if it landed on the deck, then it was likely that all the VIPs would Fall in the explosion, the girl in the purple dress with them.

It was like Niagara Falls in reverse. The fearsome curtain of water obscured everyone’s vision, and the shock waves from the explosions obstructed their hearing. Everything disappeared as the ship entered a world of silence.

But despite this…

Despite this…

“I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Pavilion was still onstage. The explosions, and the curtain of water, disappeared. The ship was unharmed, with not a single scratch. It had threaded the needle, avoiding every last blast.

The VIPs found themselves still in the land of the living. Although they were frightened, they had no intention of fleeing. Not even to duck down, cradling their heads in terror. They suppressed the primal fear welling up in them with all their might. The look in their eyes said, Now is not the time. We’re dealing with something much more important.

They were in possession of something very special. It wasn’t logic that let them win. They knew that if you pushed your luck far enough, reason would back off. That’s why they wouldn’t die. That’s why they wouldn’t Fall. They had luck, the mark of a winner. They could face a million anti-ship missiles, and the result would be the same. Luck would see them through!

As the PMC guards sprang into action, the girl in the purple dress and bunny-eared ribbon ordered them about with one hand. As presumptuous as it would be to guess at her wishes, at the very least, Pavilion knew the beautiful girl didn’t want this.

Her demeanor on the stage showed that she was seeing the same thing as the VIPs, that this was proof she could not be disposed of so easily. Pavilion smiled. What didn’t kill you made you stronger, after all.

“Let’s get back to the auction! Currently, we’re on three hundred and one from number twenty. We’ll start the countdown again; in one hundred and twenty seconds—that’s one hundred and twenty seconds—number twenty will win #tempest.err! If you don’t like it, then let’s see numbers in the air! Let’s go!!”

Pavilion realized her words could return the world to normal. She took back command of the room, snatched up her fate, and decimated any hope those petty thieves once had.

Winners always won.

She had entered a new world. A world inhabited by VIPs. A place for people who took whatever they wanted whenever they wanted it. She wasn’t scared. No one could stand in her way on the path to success.

Until the auction was over and Pavilion obtained the list of truly powerful people, until she made her young mistress proud, Pavilion’s machinery would never break down. Anyone who got in her way would simply be caught in the gears. She was confident of that. She was an oracle. A true prophet.

The Tropical Lady had now put the bridge behind it. With the missiles all gone, there came the roaring sound from above of a number of engines revving up. The attackers were probably switching to a more desperate tactic, planning to launch their vehicles off the side of the bridge and land atop the roof of the third-floor cabins.

But Pavilion and the VIPs were in the zone. There was no way they could lose now. They could just sit back and let the droves of PMCs do their thing.

Even now, she’s somewhere here, watching me. I will bring her victory.

“Four hundred from number five!” Pavilion shouted. “What a lead, ladies and gentlemen! Four hundred!!”

A mint-green coupe. A sky-blue convertible. Vehicles fell toward the ship. It would be impressive if they could even land without taking serious damage, but they wouldn’t get anything more than a gold star for effort.

Pavilion chuckled to herself as she took her gavel in hand.

“Any advance on four hundred? Going once, going twice…”

She lifted her hand gently. The thousand-strong army of PMCs raised their rifles skyward. The girl with a hint of innocence moved to close the sale.

“Sold, to number five! Everyone give a round of applause!”

She pounded the gavel against the round plate atop her podium. That was the signal for the PMCs to open fire.

10

And so their fate was sealed.

11

“…”

Kaname and the rest of Ag Wolves landed upon the topmost roof of the Tropical Lady. He got out of the car. Countless PMCs, armed to the teeth and packed tightly like soldier ants, swarmed the lower decks, the areas around the cabins, and even the same roof upon which Kaname stood. But none of them—not Lily-Kiska, with her swept-back hair and glasses; not Titan, the huge man with the crew cut; and not even M-Scope, the slouched man with the merch-covered backpack—showed the slightest sign of fear. That was because…

With the rattling sound of metal, the PMCs cleanly turned around and pointed their weapons at Pavilion and the VIPs.

“Wh-what…?”

The short girl in the purple dress that was too large for her was confused. What had happened? Why were the AI PMCs, the most powerful force imaginable, turning their guns on their own external contractor?

“Why are you…? Hurry up and deal with the intruders! What are you doing?!”

The PMCs did not respond. It was Kaname, standing atop the roof, who answered.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. Any sudden movements and they’ll gun you down where you stand. They’re under our control now.”

A chilling unease spread throughout the crowd. It sounded preposterous, but staring down the barrels of a thousand rifles, nobody wanted to test Kaname’s claim. The heavy silence only served to drive the point home. In stark contrast to those quivering motionlessly on the deck of the ship, Ag Wolves leisurely descended from the rooftop. Taking the cabin floors one at a time, they arrived at the auction floor.

“What’s going on…? Have you hacked the PMCs to take control of them or something?”

“If it were that easy, there’s no way snow would be anywhere near as valuable as the yen or the dollar. There’s never been a single successful cyberattack in the entire history of this game. That’s what makes this world so powerful.”

Then how…? Pavilion groaned, and it was Lily-Kiska, her breasts pushed together by her underarm holsters, who answered, giving a derisive snort.

“First, keep in mind who has been protecting you here. The PMCs are controlled by AI, and they’re programmed to distinguish between friend and foe based only on the contract they have with their client.”

Next to speak was the slouching, backpacked M-Scope, clad in a hoodie with an anime character on the front.

“Second, there’s this rather interesting development that White Queen Tourism, the owners of this vessel, has been undertaking: the Surf Riding Project. It seeks to unify all branches of the AI conglomerate—flights, ships, hotels—under a single entity. I-in fact, the online meetings have already reached the final stages.”

Titan fiddled with the dog tag–shaped device wrapped around his wrist.

“Third, well, what if we interrupted those all-important online meetings? The group would be split, and no one would know shit about who’s in charge of what, including this very ship.”

“Ah!!” cried Pavilion at last.

“Fourth, the missiles weren’t aiming for the ship. We set a delayed fuse. We simply needed a guided weapon that could withstand the pressure of the water.” Kaname completed the explanation, his black hair swaying in the sea breeze. “They were aiming for the undersea cables. Vital infrastructure for communicating with the peninsula district and, recently, the subject of a huge debate over whether to replace them with satellite communications. The whole reason we dropped them vertically instead of firing them was to hit those cables. By tearing them up, we were able to put a stop to the online meetings that were instrumental to the advancement of the Surf Riding Project—”

“…Wait,” interrupted Pavilion. “So what if you put a stop to it? It’s just about bringing all the airline, passenger shipping, and hotel companies under the control of the AI conglomerate!”

As the blood drained from Pavilion’s face, Kaname picked up the thing leaning against the podium atop the stage. It was one of the Legacies of Criminal AO, the Overtrick. The shotgun #tempest.err. Giving the orange gun barrel a theatrical kiss, he replied:

“You’re an external contractor, Pavilion. Just a skilled hound in the employ of an AI conglomerate, because you have the flexibility they don’t. What would they think, then, if you were unable to prevent the disruption of their precious online meetings, despite being right there when it happened? Though it may only be to ensure the game runs smoothly, you’re in a position where one mistake earns you the sack, and apparently your AI boss chooses who to recruit next based on a list of Dealers with the most expensive transactions. Incidentally, we’re all worth 1.7 billion each. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of us got the position after you lost the job.”

“Crap…”

The reason Pavilion could control the Tropical Lady and the AI PMCs was because she was an external contractor for White Queen Tourism. What if a mistake happened before her very eyes that took all of that away from her? And what if, after that, the next appointee automatically chosen by HR just so happened to be one of the very Ag Wolves she now faced?

Lily-Kiska smirked. “The background checks your company runs are all automatic, aren’t they? As long as we keep up appearances, they’ll never discover the connections that run deeper. So we’ve kept a member on standby, just waiting for the call.”

A company fully staffed by AI would never employ a human, even as the lowliest intern. The fact that Pavilion had made it onto the payroll of an AI conglomerate at all was an anomaly. One mistake and she’d be out the door. Faced with such a cutthroat contract, it was hard to make an appeal.

Kaname made his declaration. “Now it’s time to turn the tables. That’s what Money (Game) Master is all about. If you want to slowly but surely make a living, then join a company in real life. Here, it’s all about high risk, high reward.”

12

I apologize in advance for ranting in this letter.

Also, I ran out of snowman envelopes, so I’m sorry it looks so sterile.

I know I was the one who kept talking about how handwriting conveys our emotions…but there’s something I have to put into words. Something I can’t discuss with my friends at school.

I don’t like my older brother.

He dumped everything on me. I can’t believe I’m related to him.

But there’s still a part of me that believes in him. And even though I say nasty things about him, I can’t bear to hear those same things come out of other people’s mouths.

I’m so selfish.

I’m such an awful person.

I don’t even know whether I should send this letter. If you’re reading this, then it means I was weakhearted enough to put a stamp on it and drop it in the mailbox.

I’m so sorry.

I don’t know what to do.

13

“Phew…”

The one Ag Wolves member who remained on the bridge was a young girl with her hair in a long braid, Zaurus. She was relaxing in the driver’s seat of her four-wheel drive, wearing a netted tank top and a pair of dangerously short shorts. Her long limbs, covered by an animal-print hoodie, and pair of catlike eyes that you only get in games, contributed to her wild look.

While lightly snacking on a portion of fries resting on the dashboard, the girl with pale-pink hair gazed at several windows scattered across the windshield. Thanks to the interference of Ag Wolves, the Surf Riding Project was spinning its wheels. The AI conglomerate was frantically searching for alternatives to the undersea fiber-optic network to reestablish communications with the outside world, but it wouldn’t be easy. The downtime might last only about four and a half minutes, but that was plenty of time.

After all, the plan wasn’t to drive White Queen into bankruptcy. It was to give HR a wake-up call, have them investigate Pavilion, and give her the sack. One point seven billion. The size of their transactions would put Ag Wolves at the head of the list, and the recruitment e-mail would simply fall into their laps.

And the secret ingredients were those anti-ship missiles. If all you wanted to do was cut some wires at the bottom of the sea, then a simple torpedo would do the job for a fraction of the price. Even a diver equipped with bolt cutters would suffice. So why did Ag Wolves settle on a set of anti-ship missiles for 2 billion apiece? The answer was simple.

“Hee-hee-hee, I wonder what White Queen will think once they find out that the missiles that shut off their communications were produced at one of their very own airplane manufacturing plants. Probably that their external contractor, Pavilion, was lying about the attack on the ship and the cause of the communications failure, that she’d been the one to take weapons from their own warehouses and turn them against their assets.”

In general, forces owned by a company, such as PMCs, could only be used in defense of that company’s own property. However, it was always possible for a stray bullet intended for a VIP to hit an innocent Dealer. In the same way, weapons produced by an AI conglomerate could destroy communications infrastructure if, say, a load of anti-ship missiles was to miss their target and rupture a bundle of undersea cables.

That made her seem maximally suspicious.

Ping. An electric sound rang, indicating a received message. It was the recruitment e-mail transferring all power from Pavilion to Ag Wolves.

“Now I’m White Queen Tourism’s external contractor… So that ship is ours.”

The auction house and #tempest.err had been out of their reach. In that case, why not take the whole ship? What’s more, while Ag Wolves now held the incredibly fragile position of external contractor, they now held command over the thousand PMC guards who were bound by their contract.

A single SSM68F anti-ship missile cost 2 billion snow. The ten participants of Ag Wolves each contributed 1.7 billion, but that money didn’t all go toward missiles. Over 80 percent of it was spent on financial trading, moving vast amounts of wealth through the markets. This was all in order to shoot to the top of White Queen’s list.

Zaurus cracked her neck, and her feet, clad in a pair of monochromatic boots, rested heavily on her steering wheel.

“Once we get our hands on #tempest.err, I’m gonna wash my hands of this boring external contractor post…but I wonder if they’ll at least let us hold the after-party on this ship. We could use the hot tubs and pools… Awwwman, there’s even a bunch of five-star French restaurants on board!!”

14

I wonder. Would you still be my friend if you knew I was an AI Dropout?

[The rest of this letter is tearstained and illegible.]

15

The battle was over. One wrong step, and Pavilion and the other VIPs would Fall as a thousand PMCs gunned them down. They could barely breathe, let alone stage a counterattack. The members of Ag Wolves who now occupied the cruise liner assembled on the poolside stage.

With her sniper rifle clipped to a belt on her back, freeing up her hands, Lily-Kiska gulped. “So this is the Overtrick…#tempest.err. Can I hold it?”

“Me too,” said Titan.

“Me three…,” added M-Scope. “After everyone else has had a go, that is.”

All wanting to be part of the legend, the members passed #tempest.err’s crude frame among themselves, fawning over it and taking photos. When it made it back to Kaname, Lily-Kiska spoke to him as he fiddled with its parts.

“Well, now we have to figure out how to get out of here. It won’t be long before people start to realize what happened. We might even run into other Dealers who’ve heard the news and come to steal #tempest.err for themselves. Let’s see…”

“Oh, that is important. But first, I have something I want to ask you.”

“What is it?”

Having gotten her permission, Kaname continued—just as instructed by that familiar yet strange sensation that tickled the tip of his nose.

“When are you going to kill me so you can have #tempest.err to yourself?”

Grrrrr-gr! The sound of grinding metal filled the air. On one side, Kaname held the revolver-style grenade launcher #tempest.err. On the other, Lily-Kiska had unfastened the sniper rifle from her back and wielded it, surrounded by the other Ag Wolves and the thousand PMCs under their control.

Anyone could see that this standoff was absurd. Facing down over a thousand gun barrels out on the open poolside with no cover to speak of, there was no way that Kaname could win.

However, he held one of the Legacies of Criminal AO. This was no ordinary gun restricted to firing upon a single point but a monster shotgun like something out of a cheesy space movie. One pull of the trigger of this brutal orange-colored weapon would release two thousand pellets into the area dictated by its fan-shaped light, killing anyone and everyone unlucky enough to be caught inside. It was one of the Overtrick, a weapon so monstrously powerful that it couldn’t possibly be legitimate.

With just a couple of shots, everyone standing there would be dead. For Ag Wolves, it all came down to whether or not they gave Kaname the chance to do that.

The giant with the crew cut, Titan, roared ferociously, brandishing in each hand a ridiculous full-auto magnum pistol with a stupidly long magazine. “I told ya, Lily-Kiska! We shoulda gotten rid of him earlier!!”

“Shut up, Titan. This is my jurisdiction!!” She barked back.

“…You planned to shoot me in the back all along once we got #tempest.err.”

“You misunderstand,” Lily-Kiska replied.

“It was never about securing the peace and order of Money (Game) Master. You just wanted the Legacies all to yourselves. And something tells me this isn’t your first time. You’re hiding more of the Legacies somewhere, aren’t you?”

“We are going to restore order! We just need a deterrent, that’s all! If we never have to use it, so much the better!”

Kaname’s black hair swung as he softly shook his head. “This is going nowhere.”

“Negotiations have failed, then.”

The tingly scent of danger prickled Kaname’s nose. Tension was high. If so much as a pin dropped, all hell would break loose.

“Tell me,” offered Lily-Kiska. “What made you choose to do this? Do you really want to Fall so badly?”

“Well, lots of reasons. But the main one is simple.” Kaname spat out his words. “Helping others isn’t about bragging rights or asking for something in return. You made your mission sound noble, but that’s exactly why it seemed so suspicious. You talked as though you were expecting a reward for saving the world.”

But something happened before he could finish.

Bam! There was the faint sound of a gunshot, and a dark-red hole appeared in Kaname’s right arm.

“…???!!!”

The shot came from off to the side. An intense heat and pain spread from the wound across Kaname’s entire body. Of course, since Kaname had never been shot in real life, he had nothing to compare it to, but pain flashed in his mind. Perhaps triggered by his pulse or blood pressure, the smart watch on his wrist let out a warning sound. #tempest.err fell to his feet.

But it wasn’t any of Ag Wolves or the PMCs under their control who had fired the shot. It was someone among the crowd of cowering civilians—a fair-skinned girl with her black hair tied up in twin tails. A pair of black gloves and thigh-high stockings matched her frilly bikini and miniskirt combo, with a headdress adorned with blue roses and white lace that contributed to her gothic-lolita image. The unknown variable. The wild card.

The giant with the crew cut, Titan, bellowed and the dog tag–shaped health scanner wrapped around his wrist emitted a beeping sound, indicating his agitation.

“It’s Midori!! The Dealer related to Criminal AO!! I knew she was the one pullin’ Pavilion’s strings!”

Just then, Kaname did something unthinkable. With his foot, he kicked #tempest.err away. And not because he feared Ag Wolves would pick it up. As the orange-colored Legacy skimmed across the floor of the poolside deck, a slender hand reached out to pick it up. But surrounded by countless PMCs, Pavilion suddenly panicked and pulled her hand back. Somebody had stopped her.

“Don’t do it, ma’am!! Stay out of this!”

The one who feared for the safety of the girl in the purple dress was not Midori. It was a girl clad in what looked like a tennis outfit, with medium-length hair, yet below whose waist a large snake body slithered on the ground: a lamia Magistellus.

That’s Pavilion’s mistress?! Is she so addicted to this game that she is serving her own Magistellus?! The queen wasn’t Midori after all. I thought she was with Criminal AO. If not, why is she on the ship…?!

As Lily-Kiska’s head reeled with possibilities, the situation continued to unfold. #tempest.err skated across the poolside deck. It was headed straight for Midori. Of course, the PMCs wouldn’t let that happen. The lamia Magistellus might have stopped Pavilion before she could do anything, but if she had so much as touched the Legacy, they would have considered her an enemy of Ag Wolves and moved to protect the interests of their “employer.” As those hundreds of barrels turned to face Midori, Kaname raised his free left arm.

He held the short-range sniper rifle Short Spear. Firing it with one hand, he shot one of the AI PMCs to aggro them. “Get inside!! Tselika!!”

As soon as the AI’s priority switched to Kaname, the petite girl named Midori scooped up #tempest.err in both hands and made a break for the watertight bulkhead door of the passenger compartment. At that moment, Kaname’s mint-green coupe came falling down from the sky, crashing through the members of Ag Wolves and sending them sprawling across the floor. The PMCs began their assault in earnest. The car interposed itself as Kaname’s shield, but in the blink of an eye, it was painted with orange sparks.

“Aaaagh! They’ll blow us up!” Tselika shrieked from the driver’s seat. “My temple’s health is plummeting!”

“It’s fine! We need to go after Midori!”

“Argh! Get off my back! You know I’m not comfortable being on other people’s property!”

“Don’t worry—we may be in the midst of a brief falling-out, but it’s still our team that controls this ship.”

There was no time to switch seats. With Kaname clinging to the outside, both arms wrapped around the driver’s seat’s open window, the mint-green coupe set off for the interior of the ship. The bleeding from his right arm only worsened, but it was better than staying here and becoming Swiss cheese.

A vast space extended within the ship. It served as a terminal to reach other locations such as casinos and shopping malls, but it could also probably serve as a dance hall for events.

“What a sorry state, My Lord. We’ll have to take it in for repairs as soon as we get back. As soon as we get back!!”

“We have to get out of here first.”

In just a matter of seconds, the gleaming sports car had become destined for the junkyard. It was a wonder the engine was still running. Tselika backed the car up against the double doors through which the pair had entered. That would stop anyone coming into the space for now, but once their pursuers found another way around, they were doomed.

“Goodness, My Lord, both you and my vehicle are full of holes! Let me see it, you oaf!! You’re lucky the bullet passed straight through!!”

Tselika hurried from the car and reached beneath the miniskirt of her pit-babe outfit, bringing out a small device that looked like a can of hair spray that had been strapped to her outer thigh. It was a powdered blood coagulant. She sprayed it liberally over Kaname’s arm wound. It was more effective than wrapping it in Kaname’s red necktie.

Ker-chik. A loud noise echoed through the room. Midori stepped out from behind a large piano and pointed #tempest.err in their direction.

“Put down your weapons and step away from each other!” she shouted with open hostility. “I’ll never hand over my brother’s Legacy! It needs to be destroyed!!”

“I agree. Let’s talk it over.”

“Shut up!”

As Kaname attempted to open a discussion, his hands raised, standing beside the mint-green coupe, Midori shouted him down. But Kaname didn’t comply.

“How do you destroy the Legacies exactly? Do they just break if you slam them on the ground enough times? We probably have about ten minutes before Ag Wolves and their PMC buddies get here. If we don’t figure out a way by then, #tempest.err will fall right back into their hands.”

“…!!” The twin-tailed girl chewed her lip in a way that suggested she had already tried that. “Then…then run it over with that car! Do it or I’ll shoot!!”

“I guess it’s as good a plan as any.”

Keeping his hands raised, Kaname sat down on the hood of the coupe. “But are you sure you can shoot?” he asked, attempting to hide his pain. “That shotgun you’ve got can’t take precise shots, and as you can see from the state it’s in, my car’s HP is close to 0. If you shoot me now, it’ll go down with me, and so will any chance you have of destroying the Legacy. Besides, the reflective surface of the car could cause the beam of light to reflect back. And given all the sharp bits poking out of its bullet holes now, I’d be extra careful about that.”

“Wh-wh-wh-wha…?”

Still pointing #tempest.err, Midori’s eyes darted about in confusion. She wasn’t paying attention to Tselika screeching, “Whose fault do you think that is?!”

“As I said, we’ve got ten minutes. If we can’t come to an agreement in that time, we’ll be left with the worst-case scenario. Ag Wolves will take the Legacy, turn all the other Dealers into mincemeat, and send a bunch of real-world companies into bankruptcy. Now, time is on our side. Do you want to talk or not?”

“…???!!!” Midori looked as though she wanted to stamp her feet in frustration, but there was no other way. The fact she held such an overwhelmingly powerful weapon made it all the more powerless right now. No tool was effective in every single situation.

“Besides, even if you weren’t holding #tempest.err, you wouldn’t shoot me. You couldn’t make someone Fall.”

“Couldn’t I?”

“When I’m in a dangerous spot, my nose tingles. I’m not getting any of that from you. I’m not sure what you meant to gain by catching me off guard and acting so tough.” Kaname relaxed. “As Criminal AO’s sister, you know more than anyone else what a Fall does to a person. That’s why you can’t do it. And that’s why you aimed at my arm the last time.”

Midori choked back her words. Hanging her head, with lips tightly pursed, she spat out only a single line: “…You know nothing about me.”

Her voice took on a dark, heavy tone completely at odds with her appearance. A voice dripping with resentment.

“Money (Game) Master? This stupid game loaded my brother with tons of debt in twenty-four hours, just for making one little mistake! It put a burden on our whole family!! And then he disappeared!! We don’t even know if he’s dead or alive!! He just ran away and left us to deal with his debt!!”

Disappeared. Ran away.

The venom with which she coated those words was born of hate, not concern.

“And on top of that…on top of that, they say there’s still a load of unexploded bombs in this world! They call them Legacies and tell me they’re dangerous things that can send even more people into debt or even destroy countries on the other side of the world! Someone I don’t even know could be made to feel this pain, this confusion, that I feel right now!!”

“…”

“I can’t let that idiot’s Legacies continue to exist. People pick on me at school. I can’t even walk down the street. Every time the phone or the doorbell rings, I nearly jump out of my skin… I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. I have to get rid of everything he left behind. Remove all traces that he ever existed! That’s the only way to bring the world back to normal!!”

It was impossible for Kaname to truly understand what kind of world Midori lived in. Perhaps something had caused her to turn hate upon her own family.

But…

Despite all that…

“You’re wrong.”

“About what…?”

“Takamasa didn’t deserve to be called an idiot.”

“What do you know about…?!” Midori began to yell but stopped herself as she realized. As she pointed her brother’s shotgun, her face took on a puzzled expression.

“How did you know his name…?”

“…”

“Did you know him? Had you met him? Fought here alongside him?”

“He did tell me he had a sister. We used to complain about our lives to each other. This is our first time meeting for real, though. But anyway, it sounds like it was only recently that you decided to do something about the Legacies—is that right?”

Midori didn’t answer the question. Biting her lip, she responded with one of her own. “Then you know, don’t you? People put him on a pedestal, called him a legendary Dealer, but it’s not like he was that skilled. All he could do was customize. His strength was solely in the weapons he made.”

“Yeah, he was definitely more of an ideas guy. I actually got a higher score using his weapons than he did.”

“But he got too big for his boots, ended up in a battle he couldn’t win, and was completely slaughtered!! Then he Fell, saddled us with his debt, and scattered his Legacies across this world!! …Why’d he have to be my brother? It wouldn’t have been so bad if he had been some complete stranger, but he had to go and bring Mom, Dad, and me down to rock bottom with him…!”

Kaname’s eyes narrowed slightly—as though he was trying to endure a pain much, much worse than that in his arm.

“I’m sorry.”

“?”

“It’s me you should be saying that to. Takamasa took the fall for us. He was our hero. Your grievances are with me. Please, I don’t want to hear his own sister talk about him like that.”

“What did he do…?” A drop of blood formed on Midori’s lip as she clenched her teeth. She screamed as though her underdeveloped chest might burst. “What did he do except make other people’s lives miserable?!”

Kaname looked like a ghost, but his reply was immediate.

“He risked his life to save my sister.”

In an instant, Midori lost her train of thought.

“He saved us. It was supposed to be my sister and me who Fell.”

He knew. Kaname Suou always knew.

He knew what Criminal AO was really like. He knew what Midori was feeling, how she was suffering. This may have been their first time meeting in person, but the two had been exchanging letters for a long time.

On pale-blue writing paper. Envelopes decorated with snowmen.

Midori could never forgive her brother for what he did, but somewhere in her heart, she still believed in him. Even as she placed that barely legible tearstained letter into the mailbox. That’s how important she was to him. It wasn’t so black-and-white that she could just throw him away. Even now, after jumping into Money (Game) Master and obtaining one of the monstrous Legacies. Even now, as she screamed her lungs out. Even now, deep down within her small chest, her wounded soul was weeping.

But he had stolen him. Whatever the reason, however it had happened, Kaname had stolen her brother from her. Stolen something so precious for his own benefit. So…

Don’t run away.

Kaname took a deep breath. More than any firefight, more than any car chase, more than any market prediction.

Don’t run away from what you did.

The tension in the air was suffocating, but Kaname kept looking right into Midori’s eyes.

“Perhaps you’ve heard about the Swiss Depression on TV, or perhaps you’ve seen the movie Kotemitsu Gold Rush. It was a huge plot to make seventy million people across the world lose their jobs and concentrate the wealth into just a handful of people’s bank accounts. My sister and I went to the conspirators’ den to try to stop them before they threw the switch, but they were too strong for us.”

That’s the Second Great Depression that never happened, Midori thought. The economists on TV kept saying it was on the way. So it was all planned in secret?

Problems didn’t spring into existence for no reason, and they didn’t disappear without a reason, either.

A secret battle, and the Dealers who fought knowing that they would receive no recognition of their efforts.

“We stopped their plan, and all was going well, except we overextended ourselves and took too long to escape. Those Dealers were powerful and out for blood, and we were hopelessly outnumbered and outmatched. We took refuge in an abandoned building, but it was obvious we were trapped. We were just waiting to Fall. My sister was contacting everyone she knew, begging for help, but I was sure that nobody was going to put their necks on the line for us, no matter how much we could pay. I guess it was like being pinned down, screaming for help, even if we knew nobody was coming to save us.”

“…”

“But he did come to save us.”

Kaname remembered that day. In that abandoned house lit by moonlight, in the deepest pits of despair, the doors flying open and him standing there. He remembered the face of his friend, who did what no one else in the world could, and without hesitation.

“He was carrying every weapon he owned. And although he was useless in a firefight, he was grinning, desperately trying to hide the fact that his knees were knocking against each other. He had come running and broken the siege, told us everything was okay. He didn’t come for the money or to show off. He came only to rescue us because we were in danger.”

It was him who came to mind when Kaname imagined the word hero. Even if he hadn’t been all that strong. Even if he hadn’t been all that smart. That image had burned itself into Kaname’s mind, giving him a brand-new goal in life.

“But even then, it wasn’t enough to save us all. At the very end, an enemy Dealer fired at my little sister, and he took the bullet. He Fell protecting her. It should have been me saving my sister’s life, but I was too in shock to do anything, and so he did it for me.”

The incident left such a mark on Kaname’s sister that she had deleted “Ayame” and given up the game for good. That was certainly one way of dealing with it.

But Criminal AO was never coming back. This world had no levels, no experience points. A Dealer’s strength could be boosted only by cash, which players used to secure items and equipment. Without money, it was nearly impossible to stage a comeback once you racked up a large-enough debt. You couldn’t even delete your old avatar and start afresh. Top-class Dealers earned the ire of everyone around them, so as soon as they found themselves vulnerable, everyone would gang up on them before they could even stand back up and properly equip themselves, and they would Fall once more. They would be unable to make a single move, a condition known as “Dead.”

And so Kaname, the only one left, decided to do something about the Legacies of Criminal AO, so that the sister of the man who had saved his life didn’t need to risk her own.

Fearfully, cautiously, with trembling lips, Midori asked, “So he wasn’t a detestable human being…?”

“No.”

“He Fell saving the world, protecting his friends, things to be proud of?”

“Yeah, he did.”

But there was something else Kaname needed to say to her. Kaname desperately continued to weave together his words, bringing his own crimes to light.

“It’s all because of us that you and your family are living in such poverty, so I’m in no position to act all high and mighty. You can hate me. In fact, I expect you already do.”

He had to say this:

“But Takamasa, your brother, is a hero who did what nobody else could. He saved us. Saved our lives. Our dignity. My family… My only sister in the whole world. Please remember that. It’s not him who’s a detestable human being. He’s not the coward who survived due to his own weakness, who froze in the moment and couldn’t even save his own sister. I am.”

That was all she could take. #tempest.err fell from Midori’s hands and hit the ground with a clatter. No matter how much she bit her lip, the tears streaming down the young girl’s face did not stop. They fell in huge droplets until ultimately she opened her mouth wide and began sobbing loudly like a baby. She was finally released from having to harbor such animosity toward her own family.

“He never told us any of that…”

“I bet.”

“We shouted at him, hurled abuse at him. And he never tried to argue it, not even once! He just went and disappeared!!”

“That’s why he was our hero.”

Perhaps she wanted him to have argued back, to offer a reason why the brother she looked up to had become such a burden on the family. Perhaps she wanted to be told that there was more to it than that.

Nobody knew why Criminal AO, why Takamasa, had run away from his family. Maybe he wasn’t a perfect person and just wanted to get away from the jeers and the situation he had caused. That was certainly a possibility, but it didn’t sit right with Kaname. He couldn’t help but think it all came back to Ayame and himself. They were the cause behind his massive debt. If his family ever discovered that, they would turn their hatred upon the two siblings.

And he couldn’t bear that.

To the very end, Takamasa was covering for them. Even after being locked out of the game world, he was a hero in the real world, too. What if he hadn’t been so brave? What if he hadn’t cared about Kaname and Ayame and responded, even as a reflex, to his sister or his family? Perhaps that would have changed the way this young girl saw her big brother. In fact, it might be more appropriate to say that she would have continued to see him the way she always had, as good an older brother as he had been before his Fall.

In one way, Kaname had said all he had to say. But he couldn’t just let it end here. This wasn’t about money; it was about honor. That was one thing that Kaname would never let go of. His life had been saved. Kaname knew what that meant, and he would repay it, even if it took everything he had.

“…So this time it’s my turn.”

Kaname slowly walked toward the sobbing girl. Right toward the symbol of his own sin.

“It’s time for me to protect his family, just as he protected mine.”

“Ooohhh.”

“I’ll protect you, even if it kills me.”

“Oooohhh!!”

As he made his declaration, Kaname planted both hands on the girl’s small shoulders, crouching down to look her in the eye. Midori sniffled as she listed her demands.

“You’ll help me look for my brother’s Legacies?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t want anyone to lose their life because of the things my brother left behind. Will you help?”

“That’s a small price to pay.”

Kaname had been willing to die—ever since a true hero had saved the life of his family.

“One more thing,” he added. “I can’t afford to let you Fall at the hands of Ag Wolves or whoever else we might encounter. So please, Midori… Order me to protect you.”

“…” Midori relentlessly rubbed her eyes, which were bright red, though the tears did not stop flowing. She continued to sob heavily, her breath ragged. Eventually she stopped trying to hold it back. She spoke with a face filled with emotion, the sobs interrupting her speech like hiccups.

“I… I order you…,” she started, in shambles. Then her lips formed these words:

“I order you to p-pwotect me! Swear on your life!”

At last. In that moment, the gears all clicked into place.

Ah.

At last. Kaname could now start on equal footing with him. That much was clear.

Takamasa. Is it okay?

At last. For the first time in a long while, Kaname Suou felt that his mask of ice was beginning to thaw.

Am I allowed to have the chance to get my life back?

Suddenly, like the flame from a single cigarette burning an entire prairie to ash, the scent of danger caressed the tip of Kaname’s nose.

Most likely, they were already surrounded. Unless they did something, Ag Wolves would burst through that door at any moment. There was no point in staying here a second longer.

There was no fortune to be made by helping Midori. And Kaname wouldn’t get to keep any Legacies they managed to scrape together; the whole point was to destroy them. In fact, Kaname would be putting his life and livelihood on the line, investing mountains of his own money, to fend off any Dealers who stood in their way.

---

---

But that was exactly why Kaname didn’t hesitate. He knew there was no profit to be made. And that, he felt, led him to make up his mind.

Because helping others wasn’t about bragging rights or asking for something in return.

16

On the other side of the doors, where the pool and auction house were set up, Lily-Kiska was standing on the deck with the hunched backpack man, M-Scope. For reasons they did not know, the front doors refused to open, and so Lily-Kiska had ordered the PMCs to explore the interior of the ship and find another way into the hall.

“I hope they haven’t already destroyed #tempest.err,” whimpered M-Scope. “Perhaps we should help find another way inside.”

“If they use that shotgun in an enclosed space, it’ll be impossible for us to dodge. The fact they haven’t already thrown it into the sea gives us reason to believe they’re looking for a way to destroy it completely, which means they’ll have to wait until they’re back on land.”

Lily-Kiska gave her reply while going through different accessories to wear in her ears. As her mismatched boots showed, she didn’t choose her clothes based on fashion. She was re-speccing from a long-range sniper build to something better suited to close-quarter combat. She thought as she peered through her rifle scope.

#tempest.err might have been one of the Overtrick, but it wasn’t omnipotent. If you had a mirrored shield or a silver catsuit, you could reflect the guiding light. In the right situation, you could counter it with nothing more than the sheet of foil from a sandwich picked out at a buffet.

…However, it was a different story entirely to have the courage to actually face #tempest.err with such a makeshift weapon. It was impossible to predict where the two thousand pellets would go, especially in a small room with lots of windows and mirrors. And once you factored in that a single error would result in your Fall, it was hard to make such a risky gamble. Money was something you didn’t appreciate until it was gone. Only then did you feel the dread working its way into your bones.

“Isn’t there something else you should be more worried about?” she asked. “Like the number of shots #tempest.err has?”

“Based on when I held it, I’d say it’s about ten shots,” said Titan. According to the numbers displayed on the dog tags wrapped around his wrist, he had calmed down.

Lily-Kiska made that her target.

“Then let’s send our PMCs at them and force them to waste all their ammo. They won’t be able to buy or make any more right now. After the AIs have had the stuffing beaten out of them, we can just waltz in and collect the prize once they’re exhausted.”

Ag Wolves had a thousand PMCs on their side, and they were at sea, with nowhere for their foes to run. Their enemies were desperate, but as long as they didn’t allow the cornered rats to bite back, they could win without taking any losses.

Wary of #tempest.err possibly being able to break through the door, Lily-Kiska pressed herself up against the thick walls and shouted through to the other side.

“You know you’ve got no way out of here, don’t you? Hand over #tempest.err and we’ll spare your lives. We don’t care about Midori! Just give us #tempest.err so we can restore order, and we will end this without you two having to Fall!!”

It didn’t matter if they responded or not. This was their final warning. But sure enough, a voice responded through the sealed door.

“We’re not handing over #tempest.err to you. And we also need to take back all the Legacies you already have. So the negotiations are over, Lily-Kiska.”

“It makes no difference to us. That just means you two will have to Fall for us to restore order to Money (Game) Master and the real world. It’s a pointless waste of your lives, in my opinion, but good-bye.”

“Oh, I wonder about that.”

“You still think there’s a way out? You’re up against the best of Ag Wolves, backed by a thousand PMCs. Besides, we’re at sea. There’s nowhere to run.”

“Oh, it’s a tough situation for sure. I can feel the tingle on the tip of my nose,” the man on the other side of the door acknowledged. “But I have the Lion’s Nose. Any other Dealer would pull out once they knew when to quit. But that’s not how I do things. I know exactly how thick the wall is, and that’s why I’m going to break through it.”

“…?”

“Listen. This isn’t an island or a mega-float; it’s a ship. And I think you were so wrapped up in the ecstasy of stealing it, winning the PMCs’ contract, and becoming more disposable than the merchandise from last year’s World Cup that you forgot one thing. As we speak, the ship has been working its way across the waves.”

W-wait…!

“No… It can’t be!!”

Lily-Kiska’s words came a moment too late.

Kaboom! A dreadful sound, like an explosion, rocked the ship. The cruise liner, continuing along its path, had collided with the wharf ahead.

There was a big difference between those who had predicted it and those who had not. Lily-Kiska, M-Scope, Titan, Pavilion, and the countless PMCs stationed in the area were thrown to the floor as the ship lurched. In the middle of it all, there was the roaring sound of an engine revving up. The double doors burst outward, and the mint-green coupe came rolling out back-first onto the deck. In the driver’s seat of the battered vehicle sat Kaname, while Tselika and Midori sat in the passenger seat, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“…Grrr!”

At short range, it was easier to aim based on the support provided by Lily-Kiska’s smart glasses than to use the scope. She quickly leveled the rifle in Kaname’s direction, but it was too late. Even though she had changed her accessories to be more suited to close-quarter combat, she was still using a sniper rifle. It was impossible to cover all one’s bases.

While she tried in vain to line up a shot, the sports car spun a clean one-eighty by the poolside, as if mocking her. Without losing momentum, the vehicle swept across the deck with a roar before breaking through the railing and off the bow of the ship. The main road of the peninsula district stretched beyond the grounded cruise liner.

“…!!!”

Midori screamed as they entered free fall, and a strange sensation gripped her stomach, as if it were being lifted out of her body. Tselika clamped her hand over the girl’s small mouth, probably less out of consideration for her biting her tongue and more simply to muffle the awful racket.

They were about three stories up in the air, and Kaname obviously wasn’t following the traffic signals.

The bottom of the car scraped the asphalt, tossing out a slew of orange sparks as it touched down with a thud. Kaname pulled on the steering wheel as he landed, narrowly avoiding a large oncoming bus, and lightly tapped the brakes to regain control of the coupe, somehow rejoining the flow of traffic.

“Bwa! Wh-what are we going to do now?” Midori asked.

“Look for Criminal AO’s…I mean, Takamasa’s Legacies. It’s unclear how far they’ve spread, but at the very least, we know where one of them is.”

Kaname, his black hair slick with sweat from his brow, steered the car with only his left hand as he answered.

“Ag Wolves… We find out what they’re hiding and where, and we destroy it all.”

Just then, wrapped in Tselika’s arms in the passenger seat, Midori noticed something strange.

Kaname had taken it upon himself to deal with the Legacies of Criminal AO, as well as his sister, Midori. He had even put himself up against the formidable Ag Wolves. If word got out that they were in search of the Legacies, who knew just how many more people would get involved?

And yet, through his pained expression, Midori could see that Kaname’s lips were turned up in a ferocious smile.

“That’s My Lord for you,” whispered Tselika as she clung to Midori’s side. It was as though they were both gazing upon something blindingly bright. “He’s had to deal with all this Criminal AO business, and he’s been worrying about your well-being, too. But My Lord always loved Money (Game) Master more than anyone else.”

“Huh?”

This filthy, dirty, rotten, unfair game. Here was a man who ate it all up with pleasure.

A true fighter.

“The immediate danger has passed, and he’s done mourning. That means My Lord can have fun again. He’ll have his fill until there’s naught left but bones. You’re lucky, Midori. You’re about to find out firsthand what it means to really play Money (Game) Master.”

With one hand on the wheel, Kaname was thinking about something. When he and Lily-Kiska had been waiting on Hard Engage Bridge, she had said something like, “…That’s the first step. I hope this serves to bring us closer together as well.”

“Sheesh.”

“?”

As Midori gave Kaname a puzzled look, the mint-green coupe sped off into the city.

04/01/20XX 10:20 AM

Event

Strictly speaking, there are no fixed events or quests in the open-world format of Money (Game) Master. The story is not written beforehand by the developers but by the actions of the many Dealers as they play the game. The events described on the car stereo are mostly large actions taken by AI businesses that are easy for many Dealers to get involved with.

The Concept of Food

Food and stamina do exist, but the values are reset upon logging out, so they are irrelevant unless you plan on playing for more than a few hours at a time. However, food continues to taste and fill you up like it does in the real world, so many Dealers insist on having meals to concentrate better and keep their emotions in check. Needless to say, it requires a lot of focus to simultaneously handle shoot-outs, car chases, and market speculation.

The Stability of Snow

The reason that snow possesses a value on par with that of the yen or the dollar is that it is impossible to tamper with Money (Game) Master through hacking or other cyberattacks. This also means that there is no need to run any kind of regular maintenance such as encrypted security checks for users.

Ag Wolves

A group of Dealers seeking to reunite the Legacies of Criminal AO and restore order to Money (Game) Master. Or at least, so they claimed. They turned out to be seeking the Legacies for their own gain. The core of the group consists of about a dozen members, including Lily-Kiska. It is highly likely that they possess one or more of the Legacies already.

AI Conglomerate

A conglomerate is a method of organizing a business that puts management into the hands of a single family. In the case of an AI business, it is a large company with very few points of contact with the outside world. However, they also indulge in some odd practices, such as subcontracting Dealers to serve as their lap dogs. In a world where most AI businesses never employ humans, even as interns, this behavior is very peculiar indeed.

Avatar

A Dealer’s embodiment in the game world. Since there are no level-ups and everyone starts out with the same abilities, it might seem beneficial to choose an extremely large or extremely small body. In practice, however, players tend to gravitate toward a form they find aesthetically pleasing.

Dead

If you are unfortunate enough to attract the attention of other prominent Dealers, then the moment you become vulnerable, such as if you Fall and become overwhelmed with debt or try to create a new avatar, you can get trapped in a vicious cycle of Falling and respawning from which there is no escape. The state of being subjected to such nasty pile-on behavior is known as being Dead.